IN THE GARDEN AT DUSK
When Atlee quitted Walpole’s room, he was far too full of doubt and
speculation to wish to join the company in the drawing-room. He had need
of time to collect his thoughts, too, and arrange his plans. This sudden
departure of his would, he well knew, displease Kearney. It would savour
of a degree of impertinence, in treating their hospitality so cavalierly,
that Dick was certain to resent, and not less certain to attribute to a
tuft-hunting weakness on Atlee’s part of which he had frequently declared
he detected signs in Joe’s character.
‘Be it so. I’ll only say, you’ll not see me cultivate “swells” for the
pleasure of their society, or even the charms of their cookery. If I turn
them to no better uses than display, Master Dick, you may sneer freely at
me. I have long wanted to make acquaintance with one of these fellows, and
luck has now given me the chance. Let us see if I know how to profit by
it.’
And, thus muttering to himself, he took his way to the farmyard, to find a
messenger to despatch to the village for post-horses.
The fact that he was not the owner of a half-crown in the world very
painfully impressed itself on a negotiation, which, to be prompt, should be
prepaid, and which he was endeavouring to explain to two or three very idle
but very incredulous listeners--not one of whom could be induced to accept
a ten miles’ tramp on a drizzling night without the prompting of a tip in
advance.
‘It’s every step of eight miles,’ cried one.
‘No, but it’s ten,’ asseverated another with energy, ‘by rayson that you
must go by the road. There’s nobody would venture across the bog in the
dark.’
‘Wid five shillings in my hand--’
‘And five more when ye come back,’ continued another, who was terrified at
the low estimate so rashly adventured.
‘If one had even a shilling or two to pay for a drink when he got in to
Kilbeggan wet through and shivering--’
The speaker was not permitted to finish his ignominiously low proposal, and
a low growl of disapprobation smothered his words.
‘Do you mean to tell me,’ said Joe angrily, ‘that there’s not a man here
will step over to the town to order a chaise and post-horses?’
‘And if yer honour will put his hand in his pocket and tempt us with a
couple of crown-pieces, there’s no saying what we wouldn’t do,’ said a
little bandy old fellow, who was washing his face at the pump.
‘And are crown-pieces so plentiful with you down here that you can earn
them so easily?’ said Atlee, with a sneer.
‘Be me sowl, yer honour, it’s thinking that they’re not so aisy to come at,
makes us a bit lazy this evening!’ said a ragged fellow, with a grin, which
was quickly followed by a hearty laugh from those around him.
Something that sounded like a titter above his head made Atlee look up, and
there, exactly over where he stood, was Nina, leaning over a little stone
balcony in front of a window, an amused witness of the scene beneath.
‘I have two words for yourself,’ cried he to her in Italian. ‘Will you come
down to the garden for one moment?’
‘Cannot the two words be said in the drawing-room?’ asked she, half
saucily, in the same language.
‘No, they cannot be said in the drawing-room,’ continued he sternly.
‘It’s dropping rain. I should get wet.’
‘Take an umbrella, then, but come. Mind me, Signora Nina, I am the bearer
of a message for you.’
There was something almost disdainful in the toss of her head as she heard
these words, and she hastily retired from the balcony and entered the room.
Atlee watched her, by no means certain what her gesture might portend.
Was she indignant with him for the liberty he had taken? or was she about
to comply with his request, and meet him? He knew too little of her to
determine which was the more likely; and he could not help feeling that,
had he only known her longer, his doubt might have been just as great. Her
mind, thought he, is perhaps like my own: it has many turnings, and she’s
never very certain which one of them she will follow. Somehow, this imputed
wilfulness gave her, to his eyes, a charm scarcely second to that of her
exceeding beauty. And what beauty it was! The very perfection of symmetry
in every feature when at rest, while the varied expressions of her face as
she spoke, or smiled, or listened, imparted a fascination which only needed
the charm of her low liquid voice to be irresistible.
How she vulgarises that pretty girl, her cousin, by mere contrast! What
subtle essence is it, apart from hair and eyes and skin, that spreads an
atmosphere of conquest over these natures, and how is it that men have no
ascendencies of this sort--nothing that imparts to their superiority the
sense that worship of them is in itself an ecstasy?
‘Take my message into town,’ said he to a fellow near, ‘and you shall have
a sovereign when you come back with the horses’; and with this he strolled
away across a little paddock and entered the garden. It was a large,
ill-cultivated space, more orchard than garden, with patches of smooth
turf, through which daffodils and lilies were scattered, and little
clusters of carnations occasionally showed where flower-beds had once
existed. ‘What would I not give,’ thought Joe, as he strolled along the
velvety sward, over which a clear moonlight had painted the forms of many
a straggling branch--‘What would I not give to be the son of a house like
this, with an old and honoured name, with an ancestry strong enough to
build upon for future pretensions, and then with an old home, peaceful,
tranquil, and unmolested, where, as in such a spot as this, one might dream
of great things, perhaps more, might achieve them! What books would I not
write! What novels, in which, fashioning the hero out of my own heart, I
could tell scores of impressions the world had made upon me in its aspect
of religion, or of politics, or of society! What essays could I not compose
here--the mind elevated by that buoyancy which comes of the consciousness
of being free for a great effort! Free from the vulgar interruptions that
cling to poverty like a garment, free from the paltry cares of daily
subsistence, free from the damaging incidents of a doubtful position and a
station that must be continually asserted. That one disparagement, perhaps,
worst of all,’ cried he aloud: ‘how is a man to enjoy his estate if he is
“put upon his title” every day of the week? One might as well be a French
Emperor, and go every spring to the country for a character.’
‘What shocking indignity is this you are dreaming of?’ said a very soft
voice near him, and turning he saw Nina, who was moving across the grass,
with her dress so draped as to show the most perfect instep and ankle with
a very unguarded indifference.
‘This is very damp for you; shall we not come out into the walk?’ said he.
‘It is very damp,’ said she quickly; ‘but I came because you said you had a
message for me: is this true?’
‘Do you think I could deceive you?’ said he, with a sort of tender
reproachfulness.
‘It might not be so very easy, if you were to try,’ replied she, laughing.
‘That is not the most gracious way to answer me.’
‘Well, I don’t believe we came here to pay compliments; certainly I did
not, and my feet are very wet already--look there, and see the ruin of a
_chaussure_ I shall never replace in this dear land of coarse leather and
hobnails.’
As she spoke she showed her feet, around which her bronzed shoes hung limp
and misshapen.
‘Would that I could be permitted to dry them with my kisses,’ said he, as,
stooping, he wiped them with his handkerchief, but so deferentially and so
respectfully, as though the homage had been tendered to a princess. Nor did
she for a moment hesitate to accept the service.
‘There, that will do,’ said she haughtily. ‘Now for your message.’
‘We are going away, mademoiselle,’ said Atlee, with a melancholy tone.
‘And who are “we,” sir?’
‘By “we,” mademoiselle, I meant to convey Walpole and myself.’ And now he
spoke with the irritation of one who had felt a pull-up.
‘Ah, indeed!’ said she, smiling, and showing her pearly teeth. ‘“We” meant
Mr. Walpole and Mr. Atlee.’
‘You should never have guessed it?’ cried he in question.
‘Never--certainly,’ was her cool rejoinder.
‘Well! _He_ was less defiant, or mistrustful, or whatever be the name
for it. We were only friends of half-an-hour’s growth when he proposed
the journey. He asked me to accompany him as a favour; and he did more,
mademoiselle: he confided to me a mission--a very delicate and confidential
mission--such an office as one does not usually depute to him of whose
fidelity or good faith he has a doubt, not to speak of certain smaller
qualities, such as tact and good taste.’
‘Of whose possession Mr. Atlee is now asserting himself?’ said she quietly.
He grew crimson at a sarcasm whose impassiveness made it all the more
cutting.
‘My mission was in this wise, mademoiselle,’ said he, with a forced calm
in his manner. ‘I was to learn from Mademoiselle Kostalergi if she should
desire to communicate with Mr. Walpole touching certain family interests in
which his counsels might be of use; and in this event, I was to place at
her disposal an address by which her letters should reach him.’
‘No, sir,’ said she quietly, ‘you have totally mistaken any instructions
that were given you. Mr. Walpole never pretended that I had written or was
likely to write to him; he never said that he was in any way concerned
in family questions that pertained to me; least of all did he presume to
suppose that if I had occasion to address him by letter, I should do so
under cover to another.’
‘You discredit my character of envoy, then?’ said he, smiling easily.
‘Totally and completely, Mr. Atlee; and I only wait for you yourself
to admit that I am right, to hold out my hand to you and say let us be
friends.’
‘I’d perjure myself twice at such a price. Now for the hand.’
‘Not so fast--first the confession,’ said she, with a faint smile.
‘Well, on my honour,’ cried he seriously, ‘he told me he hoped you might
write to him. I did not clearly understand about what, but it pointed to
some matter in which a family interest was mixed up, and that you might
like your communication to have the reserve of secrecy.’
‘All this is but a modified version of what you were to disavow.’
‘Well, I am only repeating it now to show you how far I am going to perjure
myself.’
‘That is, you see, in fact, that Mr. Walpole could never have presumed to
give you such instructions--that gentlemen do not send such messages to
young ladies--do not presume to say that they dare do so; and last of all,
if they ever should chance upon one whose nice tact and cleverness would
have fitted him to be the bearer of such a commission, those same qualities
of tact and cleverness would have saved him from undertaking it. That is
what you see, Mr. Atlee, is it not?’
‘You are right. I see it all.’ And now he seized her hand and kissed it as
though he had won the right to that rapturous enjoyment.
She drew her hand away, but so slowly and so gently as to convey nothing of
rebuke or displeasure. ‘And so you are going away?’ said she softly.
‘Yes; Walpole has some pressing reason to be at once in Dublin. He is
afraid to make the journey without a doctor; but rather than risk delay in
sending for one, he is willing to take _me_ as his body-surgeon, and I have
accepted the charge.’
The frankness with which he said this seemed to influence her in his
favour, and she said, with a tone of like candour, ‘You were right.
His family are people of influence, and will not readily forget such a
service.’
Though he winced under the words, and showed that it was not exactly the
mode in which he wanted his courtesy to be regarded, she took no account of
the passing irritation, but went on--
If you fancy you know something about me, Mr. Atlee, _I_ know far more
about _you_. Your chum, Dick Kearney, has been so outspoken as to his
friend, that my cousin Kate and I have been accustomed to discuss you like
a near acquaintance--what am I saying?--I mean like an old friend.’
‘I am very grateful for this interest; but will you kindly say what is
the version my friend Dick has given of me? what are the lights that have
fallen upon my humble character?’
[Illustration: ‘You are right, I see it all,’ and now he seized her hand
and kissed it]
‘Do you fancy that either of us have time at this moment to open so large
a question? Would not the estimate of Mr. Joseph Atlee be another mode of
discussing the times we live in, and the young gentlemen, more or less
ambitious, who want to influence them? would not the question embrace
everything, from the difficulties of Ireland to the puzzling embarrassments
of a clever young man who has everything in his favour in life, except the
only thing that makes life worth living for?’
‘You mean fortune--money?’
‘Of course I mean money. What is so powerless as poverty? do I not know
it--not of yesterday, or the day before, but for many a long year? What so
helpless, what so jarring to temper, so dangerous to all principle, and so
subversive of all dignity? I can afford to say these things, and you can
afford to hear them, for there is a sort of brotherhood between us. We
claim the same land for our origin. Whatever our birthplace, we are both
Bohemians!’
She held out her hand as she spoke, and with such an air of cordiality and
frankness that Joe caught the spirit of the action at once, and, bending
over, pressed his lips to it, as he said, ‘I seal the bargain.’
‘And swear to it?’
‘I swear to it,’ cried he.
‘There, that is enough. Let us go back, or rather, let me go back alone. I
will tell them I have seen you, and heard of your approaching departure.’