"Gallop apace, you fiery footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' mansion."
ROMEO AND JULIET, _Act_ 3.
Great was the astonishment at Brompton when Kate Ferguson made her
appearance, galloping up to the station, and drew up before the house.
At the same time she gathered up the folds of her habit; and, leaving
her panting steed to the care of some of the assembled attendants,
disdaining any assistance, she leaped to the ground and ran into the
house.
At the door of the parlour she was met by Mrs. Smithers who exclaimed,
with apprehension depicted in her countenance: "For mercy's sake! tell
me, dear Kate, what has happened to cause your return alone?"
"Eleanor has met with an accident," she hurriedly replied, "and I want
the doctor; is he here?"
"Unfortunately he went only about a quarter of an hour since," said Mrs.
Smithers. "I will send after him though; but tell me what was the nature
of poor Eleanor's accident."
"She was thrown from her horse, and has broken her leg," exclaimed Kate;
"but do let me urge you to send after the doctor at once; or if you
direct me to the road he took, I will follow him myself."
"I could not hear of such a thing," replied the lady of the place, "as
to permit you, my dear, to go. Sit down for a moment, or go to my room
and put off your habit, while I despatch a messenger."
Mrs. Smithers left the room on her mission, and shortly returned and
informed her impatient visitor, that a man had been sent after the
doctor, with injunctions to lose no time in bringing him back. "Doctor
Graham has ceased to practise," she said, "but under such circumstances
he can have no objection to lend us his professional skill; and as
Robert is with him, and will consequently urge him to speed, we may
confidently expect him here in a very short time. Come now, my dear, put
off your things, and tell me how the unfortunate occurrence took place."
The whole circumstances of the accident were then related, after which
an animated discussion was carried on between the ladies; the married
one contending that it was impossible for the younger one to return home
before the following morning, while Kate stoutly declared her intention
to proceed at once, when the doctor arrived.
"Such a course, my dear Kate," urged her friend, "would be unnecessarily
exposing yourself to a fatigue which I am convinced you could not
endure. You had far better remain with me until the morning, and then
Mr. Smithers will either drive you over in his gig, or accompany you on
horseback. The doctor and Robert shall be sent off immediately they
arrive, but as to you travelling the road by night is a thing quite out
of the question."
Still all arguments were unavailing; Kate persisted in returning at once
to be in attendance on her friend; affirming that she did not fear the
journey, nor anticipate any fatigue. So, Mrs. Smithers finding it
useless to attempt persuading the determined girl, proposed that, so as
to ease her journey as much as possible, Mr. Smithers should still drive
her over, and lead her own horse behind the vehicle. Mr. Smithers was
then sought for, and the melancholy intelligence was communicated to him
by his spouse; who desired him to place himself and his vehicle at the
disposal of Miss Ferguson.
He regretted the sad event most feelingly; at the same time he expressed
himself only too happy to be of service to Kate, and would hear of no
objection from her; saying, "Why! if you could stand the journey
yourself, Miss Ferguson, your horse could not carry you." So that the
little messenger was perforce obliged to relinquish her opposition to
the proffered assistance.
It was late in the afternoon before the sound of approaching horsemen
heralded the arrival of Bob Smithers and his friend, the brusque and
generally not over-courteous son of AEsculapius. They were not long
permitted to remain inactive, for the impatient anxiety of Kate for the
safety of her friend stimulated them to use despatch; and very soon
after their arrival they were tearing away again in the direction of
Strawberry Hill, in concert with Mr. Alfred Smithers and his charge. The
horsemen took the lead, and were followed closely by the vehicle; which,
by the speed that they maintained, required a skillful hand to guide
through the mazy difficulties of the bush track. The night, however, was
beautiful, and the moon bright and clear distinctly illumined their
path; so that the occasional diminution of the speed was not owing so
much to impediments and difficulties of a vehicular nature, as to a
desire on the part of the horsemen to take it easier. But these little
delays, insignificant as they were, did not accord with Kate's ideas of
the urgency of the case; and the flagging equestrians were constantly
prompted by her to an acceleration of their pace.
Towards the latter part of the journey the bush was more dense, and the
travelling of the gig consequently became more difficult. The frequent,
though only momentary detentions, so harassed Kate that she exchanged
her seat in the gig for the back of her own jaded horse; and she led the
way at a rate that gave her less fatigued followers something to do to
keep even within sight of her. All their remonstrances against the
velocity of her pace had no further effect than a raillery from Kate at
their complaining of a speed that she was enabled to keep up; and she
told them that if they were tired out she would go on and report their
approach. However much they disliked the toil of such riding they were,
for their own credit, obliged to keep pace with her, as neither of them
relished the idea of being outstripped by a girl; and that girl one who
had ridden a far greater distance in the previous twelve hours than
they.
In the meantime Mrs. Rainsfield had acted upon Kate's suggestion, and
had ridden home with all speed. She prepared a couch, and had it placed
in a light cart; which was then despatched to meet the invalid, with
strict injunctions to the driver to go as fast as he could, until he met
the party. Neither had Tom and William been idle, for they had placed
poor Eleanor on her saddle, where Tom held her while William led the
horse. But the pain, which the motion caused to her wounded limb, was
such that she could not with all her fortitude endure it. The young men,
therefore, constructed a sort of impromptu sedan, in which they carried
her for some distance; in fact, until they were met by the conveyance
despatched from Strawberry Hill. They then transferred their burden to
the vehicle, and continued the journey more easily for the poor girl;
though their rate of travelling was necessarily very slow. It was
midnight ere they delivered their charge into the hands of Mrs.
Rainsfield, and barely an hour afterwards Kate and her companions
galloped up to the house.
The doctor was instantly shown into the invalid's room, when the broken
leg was soon set, and the patient placed in as easy a position as
possible; when, after giving directions to her cousin for her further
treatment, he left the room to partake of some refreshment with his
friends before they parted for the night. Tom and William waited for the
report of Kate, who was assiduously attending on Eleanor, and would not
hear of rest for herself until she had first satisfied her mind of the
safety of her friend.
The following day the invalid was considered by her medical attendant to
be sufficiently out of danger, and progressing so favourably as to
warrant his departure. He therefore left, accompanied by his boon
companion, Bob Smithers, who preferred his society to that of the
residents of Strawberry Hill, and was followed by Mr. Alfred Smithers in
the gig.
We have so frequently, and we think so fully, dwelt upon the character
of Eleanor Rainsfield that we are convinced she is by this time
perfectly understood by our readers. We need therefore only say that it
was quite possible for her to suffer the deepest mental agony without
the slightest semblance of its being discernible in any display in her
facial muscles. We say that it was quite possible that the existence of
sorrow could have been working deleteriously at the heart's core of the
invalid, and not be visible by any outward signs; and it was more than
probable, after the events that had lately occurred, that some such
sorrow did exist. We have already said that Eleanor was habitually of a
taciturn and uncomplaining nature; and, whatever were her griefs, she
rarely allowed their utterance to pass her lips; so it was not to be
deemed strange that her friends were unacquainted with her state of
mind. What that was we dare not violate our trust by divulging, beyond
the fact that there _was_ something that preyed upon her mind which
caused her to remain feverish and restless on her sick couch, and which
retarded her return to convalescence. She progressed but slowly; and it
was nearly two months before she was enabled to leave her room, and
expose her emaciated frame to the summer breeze in a seat in a shady
part of the verandah.
During all this lengthened illness, her friends at Fern Vale had been
constant in their attentions, and hardly a day passed without some
enquiries being made or some intelligence being conveyed. Visits of
William and Kate were interchanged with Tom, who had delayed his journey
to town until Eleanor was what he considered sufficiently recovered to
spare him. When that time had arrived, and he saw his cousin at last
enabled to move about, he took his departure; not, however, without
making a special purpose of visiting Fern Vale to bid adieu to his
friends there.
Why such particular consideration as this was required prior to his
departure on a journey that would not occupy more than a month, or why
it was necessary to take such a formal leave of friends he was in the
habit of seeing so frequently, and whom he could and did inform of his
intended departure upon the last occasion on which they met, we are at a
loss to conjecture. We do not, however, consider ourselves justified in
making any surmises, but intend simply to content ourselves by
chronicling the event; deeming in so doing we perform our duty, and
avoid the probability of misleading our readers, by indulging in
speculations that might lead to erroneous assumptions respecting the
motives of our friend. Therefore it is only known to Tom himself, or
rather was best known to him, what took him to Fern Vale, and what kept
him for hours in company with Kate Ferguson. But there he remained
looking over her sketches, and turning over her music, as he listened
rapturously; while her pliable fingers fluttered over the keys of her
piano, and exorcised the very spirit of the muse in the exquisite
diapason that she produced to enchant him. If it was simply to bid adieu
to the young lady he might have done that, we should have thought, in a
much shorter time, and taken his departure. It could not have been to
visit her brother, for as yet he had not seen him, and neither made any
effort nor expressed any desire to do so. He had, in fact, arrived at
Fern Vale early in the forenoon, and finding Kate alone in the
sitting-room, his gallantry (or rather his inclination) suggested that
he should endeavour to relieve the _ennui_ of the young lady. Thus he
had occupied, for nearly the whole of the morning, her and his own time,
in which occupation he seemed perfectly contented; so much so that we
strongly suspect that he--But we were about doing what we repudiated our
intention of, viz., speculating on Tom's motives. So, dear reader! with
your kind permission, so far as we are concerned, we will leave him to
enjoy uninterruptedly the pleasure of Kate's society.
We must now beg the courteous reader to follow us over a period of about
a fortnight, during which time Eleanor had improved very little in her
health; when Kate and William one morning left Fern Vale to ride over to
see her. The weather had continued very dry for months past, and a large
portion of the bush had been slightly fired, so as just to burn off the
long dry withered grass, and leave on the ground a thick coating of
soot. Through this our friends were riding at a pretty sharp canter (as,
being like most of their birth and character, no less speed satisfying
them), when Kate's horse tripped and came down, precipitating his rider
over his head, and sending her sprawling amongst the ashes.
Her brother alighted to assist her to rise; but she was in no way hurt,
and regained her feet with little difficulty or hesitation. But she had
no sooner faced William than he lost all control over his gravity, and
burst into an immoderate fit of laughter; while to his sister's enquiry
as to the cause of his merriment, he replied only by laughing the
louder; and she became annoyed at what she called his silly behaviour.
"Tell me," said she, "what are you laughing at; is my face dirty?"
"Oh, dear no!" replied he, "it is not dirty."
Now in this reply of William's we would endeavour to exonerate him from
any duplicity or pseudology. If he meant to use the words ironically, or
to imply that his sister's face was not dirty, on the principle we have
sophistically heard enunciated that soot is clean dirt, not dirtying
where it comes in contact, but merely soiling; then it must be admitted
he spoke the truth. But we suspect rather that he meant to say her face
was not only dirty, but a shade worse; for it was absolutely black. And
much as we respect etiquette, and would be loath to commit such an
impropriety as to laugh at a lady, we question very much our ability,
had we looked on Kate's face on this occasion, to have preserved a
stoical equanimity of countenance.
"No but, Will, dear," persisted Kate, "do tell me; is my face really
dirty? I am sure it must be or you wouldn't laugh so. It is unkind of
you to tease me;" and the little orbs in the darkened firmament, and the
little mouth that had escaped disfigurement in the sudden metamorphosis,
exhibited symptoms of a lachrymose tendency.
Nothing so soon softens the obdurate heart of a man as seeing a woman in
tears; especially when she is a handsome young girl, and is beloved by
her masculine tormentor. Therefore we may safely surmise, that
William's laughing soon ceased; for he instantly changed his manner to
his sister, and said:
"Yes, Kitty, darling; your face is as black as a crow; and would enable
you to make a splendid personation of an Ethiopian vocalist, if that
sable people ever exhibit their ladies. But forgive me, poppet, for
laughing at you; I would defy the goddess of grief herself to refrain
from smiling if she had perchance cast her eyes upon you as you rose
from the ground."
"Oh, dear me! what shall I do?" said Kate, in a most piteous way. "What
shall I do? You know, Will, I can't go on in this figure, we must go
back."
"Nonsense, my dear," said William, "you can go on very well. A slight
application of water at Strawberry Hill will very soon remove all traces
of your cloudiness."
"But, Will," replied his sister, "all the people will be laughing at me
if I go on as I am, presenting such an odd appearance."
"Not in the least, my pet," said William; "besides if you turned back
home our people would laugh at you quite as much, not for the soot on
your face, but for your foolishness in returning. At Strawberry Hill,
however, no one will laugh at you, for they will have too much good
breeding; and if you put your veil down over your face it will be
invisible; while at the same time you can present yourself to Eleanor,
and test her affection by seeing if she will kiss you in that plight.
I'll engage she'll laugh, for she'll think it is a little stratagem of
yours to take her by surprise and excite her merriment. She will
therefore think herself called upon to reward you with a smile."
"I don't like to go in this figure, Will," said Kate; "do you think we
shall be able to find any water-hole on the road where I could wash my
face?"
"Not one, Kitty," said William, "nor a drop of water nearer than
Strawberry Hill, unless you like to go to the river; and it would be
quite unnecessary, for if you went there you wouldn't be able to
thoroughly remove the black. The washing would only make you appear
worse, inasmuch as, instead of being black, you would be dirty. But
come, my little queen of Artimesia! let me put you on your horse, and
we'll go ahead. I have often heard of a sable beauty, and declare you
are one in perfection; if you were not my sister I would do the romantic
and fall in love with you. There now! up you get, and let us be off; for
the sooner you get to 'the Hill' the sooner you'll have your visage
restored to its natural colour. But before you touch your face, Kitty,
just have a look at yourself in the glass; though I need not have told
you to do that, for I know it is the first thing you are sure to do."
"Don't be cruel, Will! and tease me so," said Kate, "or I'll go back
home."
"Very well, my dear," said William, "I'll grant a truce, and spare
you."
The brother and sister then turned their conversation into some other
channel, and rode on until they came within sight of Strawberry Hill;
when Kate pulled down her veil to conceal her darkened countenance from
the gaze of the curious. As they approached the station, and got
sufficiently near to distinguish the people about the place, Kate was
startled to see some gentleman on the verandah, whom she knew (by his
appearance) was not Mr. Rainsfield, and she remarked to her brother:
"Oh, William! I can't go up to the house in this figure. See, who is
that on the verandah? he is a stranger I know and I shall never be able
to meet his gaze. Can't you take me somewhere, where I can get my face
clean before I show myself?"
"Don't be frightened Kitty," said William, "no one will be able to
distinguish the colour of your face through your veil; and, if I mistake
not, the individual you see, and whose appearance seems to cause you
such uneasiness, is none other than Bob Smithers, who will make himself
scarce when he sees me. Put on a bold face under your blackness, and try
a _coup de main_, though it is not likely under your present eclipse to
be a _coup de soleil_. If Eleanor is on the verandah when you alight run
into the house and carry her off at once; and if any of the family
should see you in your flight I will make some explanation for you."
This seemed partially to satisfy Kate, and they rode together up to the
house. As William had conjectured the party they saw was Bob Smithers;
who, as soon as he had been able to distinguish who were the approaching
visitors, had left the spot where he had been seen by them, while
Eleanor, who had been sitting just inside one of the French lights, came
out to greet her friends as they made their appearance. William assisted
Kate off her saddle, when she ran up to the girl who stood with open
arms to embrace her. But instead of falling into that loving lock,
which was intended to unite the beatings of their young hearts, and
which she was generally so ready, with her usual ardour, to reciprocate,
she partially lifted her veil and discovered to her astonished friend
her beaming countenance. Instead of being radiant with glowing smiles it
was of course more gloomy than thunder; but her merry laugh rang as a
silvery note from the shades of Hades, while her bright eyes and pearly
teeth, in such deep contrast, shone with a more marked resplendence.
Eleanor for some moments gazed at Kate with silent wonder, and then
asked in the faint voice of a valetudinarian: "Why, dearest Kate, what
have you been doing with yourself?"
"I will answer for her," replied William. "You see our little Hebe has
gone into mourning; and, considering that the mere outward habilimentary
display was an empty conventionality, she chose to mark her grief in her
countenance; so that she might indulge uninterruptedly to any extent of
sorrow. As to her motive I am inclined to think she has done it to court
notice, and notoriety; for I am convinced she never looked so handsome
before."
"That is a poor compliment William pays you, Kate," said Eleanor; "but I
appeal to you for a correct version of the phenomenon, for I am afraid
to question your brother, as I see he is in a facetious mood. Come to my
room, my dear, and we can have a talk to ourselves."
"That is the very thing I desire, Eleanor dear," said Kate, "for I am
quite anxious to see what a fright I am, and wash off all the dreadful
smut. I saw Mr. Smithers here as I came up, and I would not for the
world that he should have seen me thus."
"He was here a few minutes ago," said Eleanor, "but has disappeared
somewhere."
"Well, Will," said Kate, "why are you still standing staring at us? why
don't you take the horses away?"
"Oh, I am really very sorry for keeping him," said Eleanor, "it quite
escaped my memory; you go to my room, Kate dear, and I'll send some one
to see to the horses."
"Not for worlds, Miss Eleanor, would I permit you to do such a thing,"
exclaimed William. "I can myself take the horses to the stable; but I
was waiting to take a last fond look of Kate. I am, in fact, enchained
to the spot; if ever she was a beauty she is one now, and a shining one
that would be a fortune to a London advertising blacking manufacturer."
"Be off, you impudent fellow!" replied his sister, "and don't show
_your_ face here until you can cease to be offensive;" saying which, she
turned into the house with Eleanor, while William took the horses to the
stable to remain for such time as he stopped at Strawberry Hill. This
business he accomplished; and, knowing that the girls would be sometime
engaged together with their own little secrets, and having no desire to
come into contact with Bob Smithers, he thought he would fill up half an
hour by paying a visit to Mr. Billing, and enjoying the refreshment of
that little individual's conversation.