"Let me introduce Mr. Ayliffe to you, Emily," said Mrs. Hazleton; "but
you seem to know each other already. Is it so?"
"I have seen this gentleman before," replied her young companion, "but
did not know his name. I hope you have quite recovered from your
wound?"
"Quite, I thank you, Miss Hastings," replied John Ayliffe, in a quiet
and respectful tone; but then he added, "the interest you kindly
showed on the occasion, I believe did much to cure me."
"Too much, and too soon!" thought Mrs. Hazleton, as she remarked a
slight flush pass over Emily's cheek, to which her reply gave
interpretation.
"Every one, I suppose, would feel the same interest," answered the
beautiful girl, "in suffering such as you seemed to endure when I
accidentally met you in the park. Shall we go on into the Castle?"
The last words were addressed to Mrs. Hazleton, who immediately
assented, but asked Mr. Ayliffe to act as their guide, and, at the
very first opportunity, whispered to him, "not too quick."
He seemed to comprehend in a moment what she meant; and during the
rest of the ramble round the ruins behaved himself with a good deal of
discretion. His conversation could not be said to be agreeable to
Emily; for there was little in it either to amuse or interest. His
stores of information were very limited--at least upon subjects which
she herself was conversant; and although he endeavored to give it,
every now and then, a poetical turn, the attempt was not very
successful. On the whole, however, he did tolerably well till after
the luncheon at the inn, to which Mrs. Hazleton invited him, when he
began to entertain his two fair companions with an account of a rat
hunt, which surprised Emily not a little, and drew, almost instantly,
from Mrs. Hazleton a monitory gesture.
The young man looked confused, and broke off, suddenly, with an
embarrassed laugh, saying, "Oh! I forgot, such exploits are not very
fit for ladies' ears; and, to say the truth, I do not much like them
myself when there is any thing better to do."
"I should think that something better might always be found," replied
Mrs. Hazleton, gravely, taking to her own lips the reproof which she
knew was in Emily's heart; "but, I dare say, you were a boy when this
happened?"
"Oh, quite a boy," he said, "quite a boy. I have other things to think
of now."
But the impression was made, and it was not favorable. With keen
acuteness Mrs. Hazleton watched every look, and every turn of the
conversation; and seeing that the course of things had begun ill for
her purposes, she very soon proposed to order the carriage and return;
resolving to take, as it were, a fresh start on the following day. She
did not then ask young Ayliffe to dine at her house, as she had, at
first, intended; but was well pleased, notwithstanding, to see him
mount his horse in order to accompany them on the way back; for she
had remarked that his horsemanship was excellent, and well knew that
skill in manly exercises is always a strong recommendation in a
woman's eyes. Nor was this all: decidedly handsome in person, John
Ayliffe had, nevertheless, a certain common--not exactly vulgar--air,
when on his feet, which was lost as soon as he was in the saddle.
There, with a perfect seat, and upright, dashing carriage, managing a
fierce, wild horse with complete mastery, he appeared to the greatest
advantage. All his horsemanship was thrown away upon Emily. If she had
been asked by any one, she would have admitted, at once, that he was a
very handsome man, and a good and graceful rider; but she never asked
herself whether he was or not; and, indeed, did not think about it at
all.
One thing, however, she did think, and that was not what Mrs. Hazleton
desired. She thought him a coarse and vulgar-minded young man; and she
wondered how a woman of such refinement as Mrs. Hazleton could be
pleased with his society. There was at the end of that day only one
impression in his favor, which was produced by an undefinable
resemblance to her father, evanescent, but ever returning. There was
no one feature like: the coloring was different: the hair, eyes,
beard, all dissimilar. He was much handsomer than Sir Philip Hastings
ever had been; but ever and anon there came a glance of the eye, or a
curl of the lip; a family expression which was familiar and pleasant
to her. John Ayliffe accompanied the carriage to the gate of Mrs.
Hazleton's park; and there the lady beckoned him up, and in a kind,
half jesting tone, bade him keep himself disengaged the next day, as
she might want him.
He promised to obey, and rode away; but Mrs. Hazleton never mentioned
his name again during the evening, which passed over in quiet
conversation, with little reference to the events of the morning.
Before she went to bed, however, Mrs. Hazleton wrote a somewhat long
epistle to John Ayliffe, full of very important hints for his conduct
the next day, and ending with an injunction to burn the letter as soon
as he had read it. This done, she retired to rest; and that night,
what with free mountain air and exercise, she and Emily both slept
soundly. The next morning, however, she felt, or affected to feel,
fatigue; and put off another expedition which had been proposed.
Noon had hardly arrived, when Mr. Ayliffe presented himself, to
receive her commands he said, and there he remained, invited to stay
to dinner, not much to Emily's satisfaction; but, at length, she
remembered that she had letters to write, and, seated at a table in
the window, went on covering sheets of paper, with a rapid hand, for
more than an hour; while John Ayliffe seated himself by Emily's
embroidery frame, and labored to efface the bad impression of the day
before, by a very different strain of conversation. He spoke of many
things more suited to her tastes and habits than those which he had
previously noticed, and spoke not altogether amiss. But yet, there was
something forced in it all. It was as if he were reading sentences out
of a book, and, in truth, it is probable he was repeating a lesson.
Emily did not know what to do. She would have given the world to be
freed from his society; to have gone out and enjoyed her own thoughts
amongst woods and flowers; or even to have sat quietly in her own room
alone, feeling the summer air, and looking at the glorious sky. To
seek that refuge, however, she thought would be rude; and to go out to
walk in the park would, she doubted not, induce him to follow. She sat
still, therefore, with marvellous patience, answering briefly when an
answer was required; but never speaking in reply with any of that free
pouring forth of heart and mind which can only take place where
sympathy is strong.
She was rewarded for her endurance, for when it had lasted well nigh
as long as she could bear it, the drawing-room door opened, and Mr.
Marlow appeared. His eyes instantly fixed upon Emily with that young
man sitting by her side; and a feeling, strange and painful, came
upon him. But the next instant the bright, glad, natural, unchecked
look, of satisfaction, with which she rose to greet him, swept every
doubt-making jealousy away.
Very different was the look of Mrs. Hazleton. For an instant--a single
instant--the same black shadow, which I have mentioned once before,
came across her brow, the same lightning flashed from her eye. But
both passed away in a moment; and the feelings which produced them
were again hidden in her heart. They were bitter enough; for she
had read, with the clear eyesight of jealousy, all that Marlow's
look of surprise and annoyance--all that Emily's look of joy and
relief--betrayed.
They might not yet call themselves lovers--they might not even be
conscious that they were so; but that they were and would be, from
that moment, Mrs. Hazleton had no doubt. The conviction had come upon
her, not exactly gradually, but by fits, as it were--first a doubt,
and then a fear, and then a certainty that one, and then that both
loved.
If it were so, she knew that her present plans must fail; but yet she
pursued them with an eagerness very different than before--a wild,
rash, almost frantic eagerness. There was a chance, she thought, of
driving Emily into the arms of John Ayliffe, with no love for him, and
love for another; and there was a bitter sort of satisfaction in the
very idea. Fears for her father she always hoped might operate, where
no other inducement could have power, and such means she resolved to
bring into play at once, without waiting for the dull, long process of
drilling Ayliffe into gentlemanly carriage, or winning for him some
way in Emily's regard. To force her to marry him, hating rather than
loving him, would be a mighty gratification, and for it Mrs. Hazleton
resolved at once to strike; but she knew that hypocrisy was needed
more than ever; and therefore it was that the brow was smoothed, the
eye calmed in a moment.
To Marlow, during his visit, she was courteous and civil enough, but
still so far cold as to give him no encouragement to stay long. She
kept watch too upon all that passed, not only between him and Emily,
but between him and John Ayliffe; for a quarrel between them, which
she thought likely, was not what she desired. But there was no danger
of such a result. Marlow treated the young man with a cold and distant
politeness--a proud civility, which left him no pretence for offence,
and yet silenced and abashed him completely. During the whole visit,
till towards its close, the contrast between the two men was so marked
and strong, so disadvantageous to him whom Mrs. Hazleton sought to
favor, that she would have given much to have had Ayliffe away from
such a damaging companion. At length she could endure it no longer,
and contrived to send him to seek for some flowers which she pretended
to want, and which she knew he would not readily find in her gardens.
Before he returned, Marlow was gone; and Emily, soon after, retired to
her own room, leaving the youth and Mrs. Hazleton together.
The three met again at dinner, and, for once, a subject was brought
up, by accident, or design--which, I know not--that gave John Ayliffe
an opportunity of setting himself in a somewhat better light. Every
one has some amenity--some sweeter, gentler spot in the character. He
had a great love for flowers--a passion for them; and it brought forth
the small, very small portion of the poetry of the heart which had
been assigned to him by nature. It was flowers then that Mrs. Hazleton
talked of, and he soon joined in discussing their beauties, with a
thorough knowledge of, and feeling for his subject. Emily was somewhat
surprised, and, with natural kindness, felt glad to find some topic
where she could converse with him at ease. The change of her manner
encouraged him, and he went on, for once, wisely keeping to a subject
on which he was at home, and which seemed so well to please. Mrs.
Hazleton helped him greatly with a skill and rapidity which few could
have displayed, always guiding the conversation back to the well
chosen theme, whenever it was lost for an instant.
At length, when the impression was most favorable, John Ayliffe rose
to go--I know not whether he did so at a sign from Mrs. Hazleton; but
I think he did. Few men quit a room gracefully--it is a difficult
evolution--and he, certainly, did not. But Emily's eyes were in a
different direction, and to say the truth, although he had seemed to
her more agreeable that evening than he had been before, she thought
too little of him at all to remark how he quitted the room, even if
her eyes had been upon him.
From time to time, indeed, some of the strange vague words which he
had used when she had seen him in the park, had recurred to her mind
with an unpleasant impression, and she had puzzled herself with the
question of what could be their meaning; but she soon dismissed the
subject, resolving to seek some information from Mrs. Hazleton, who
seemed to know the young man so well.
On the preceding night, that lady had avoided all mention of him; but
that was not the case now. She spoke of him, almost as soon as he was
gone, in a tone of some compassion, alluding vaguely and mysteriously
to misfortunes and disadvantages under which he had labored, and
saying, that it was marvellous to see how much strength of mind, and
natural high qualities, could effect against adverse circumstances.
This called forth from Emily the inquiry which she had meditated, and
although she could not recollect exactly the words John Ayliffe had
used, she detailed, with sufficient accuracy, all that had taken place
between herself and him; and the strange allusion he had made to Sir
Philip Hastings.
Mrs. Hazleton gazed at her for a moment or two after she had done
speaking, with a look expressive of anxious concern.
"I trust, my dear Emily," she said, at length, "that you did not repel
him at all harshly. I have had much sad experience of the world, and I
know that in youth we are too apt to touch hardly and rashly, things
that for our own best interests, as well as for good feeling's sake,
we ought to deal with tenderly."
"I do not think that I spoke harshly," replied Emily, thoughtfully; "I
told him that any thing he had to say must be said to my father; but I
do not believe I spoke even that unkindly."
"I am glad to hear it--very glad;" replied Mrs. Hazleton, with much
emphasis; and then, after a short pause, she added, "Yet I do not know
that your father--excellent, noble-minded, just and generous as he
is--was the person best fitted to judge and act in the matter which
John Ayliffe might have to speak of."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Emily, becoming more and more surprised, and in
some degree alarmed, "this is very strange, dear Mrs. Hazleton. You
seem to know more of this matter; pray explain it all to me. I may
well hear from you, what would be improper for me to listen to from
him."
"He has a kindly heart," said Mrs. Hazleton, thoughtfully, "and more
forbearance than I ever knew in one so young; but it cannot last for
ever; and when he is of age, which will be in a few days, he must act;
and I trust will act kindly and gently--I am sure he will, if nothing
occurs to irritate a bold and decided character."
"But act how?" inquired Emily, eagerly; "you forget, dear Mrs.
Hazleton, that I am quite in the dark in this matter. I dare say that
he is all that you say; but I will own that neither his manners
generally, nor his demeanor on that occasion, led me to think very
well of him, or to believe that he was of a forbearing or gentle
nature."
"He has faults," said Mrs. Hazleton, dryly; "oh yes, he has faults,
but they are those of manner, more than heart or character--faults
produced by circumstances may be changed by circumstances--which would
never have existed, had he had, earlier, one judicious, kind, and
experienced friend to counsel and direct him. They are disappearing
rapidly, and, if ever he should fall under the influences of a
generous and noble spirit, will vanish altogether."
She was preparing the way, skilfully exciting, as she saw, some
interest in Emily, and yet producing some alarm.
"But still you do not explain," said the beautiful girl, anxiously;
"do not, dear Mrs. Hazleton, keep me longer in suspense."
"I cannot--I ought not, Emily, to explain all to you," replied the
lady, "it would be a long and painful story; but this I may tell you,
and after that, ask me no more. That young man has your father's
fortunes and his fate entirely in his hands. He has forborne long.
Heaven grant that his forbearance may still endure."
She ceased, and after one glance at Emily's face, she cast down her
eyes, and seemed to fall into thought.
Emily gazed up towards the sky, as if seeking counsel there, and then,
bursting into tears, hurriedly quitted the room.