Neither Land Nor Water
A light that never was on sea or land.--WORDSWORTH
Nothing could be prettier than Rosamond's happiness in welcoming her
school-boy brothers, and her gratitude to Mrs. Poynsett for inviting
them, declaring that she liked boys. Her sons, however, dreaded the
inroad of two wild Irish lads, and held council what covers and what
horses could most safely be victimized to them, disregarding all
testimony in their favour from interested parties. When, therefore,
Terence and Thomas de Lancey made their appearance, and were walked
in for exhibition by their proud and happy sister, there was some
surprise at the sight of two peculiarly refined, quiet boys, with
colourless complexions, soft, sleepy, long-lashed, liquid brown
eyes, the lowest of full voices, and the gentlest of manners, as if
nothing short of an explosion could rouse them.
And it was presently manifest that their sister had said rather too
little than too much of Terry's abilities. Not only had he brought
home a huge pile of prizes, but no sooner was the seance after
dinner broken up, than he detained Julius, saying, in a very meek
and modest tone, "Rose says you know all the books in the library."
"Rose undertakes a great deal for me. What is this the prelude to?"
"I wanted to ask if I might just look at any book about the physical
geography of Italy, or the History of Venice, or the Phoenicians."
"Why, Terry?"
"It is for the Prize Essay," explained the boy; "the subject is the
effect of the physical configuration of a country upon the character
of a nation."
Julius drew a long breath, astounded at the march of intellect since
his time. "They don't expect such things of fellows like you!" he
said.
"Only of the sixth, but the fifth may go in for it, and I want to
get up to the Doctor himself; I thought, as I was coming to such a
jolly library, I might try; and if I do pretty well, I shall be put
up, if any more fellows leave. Do you think I may use the books?
I'm librarian, so I know how to take care of them."
"You can be trusted for that, you book-worm," said Julius; "here's
the library, but I fear I don't know much about those modern
histories. My mother is a great reader, and will direct us. Let us
come to her."
Quiet as Terry was, he was neither awkward nor shy; and when Julius
had explained his wishes, and Mrs. Poynsett had asked a few good-
natured questions, she was charmed as well as surprised at the
gentle yet eager modesty with which the low-pitched tones detailed
the ideas already garnered up, and inquired for authorities, in
which to trace them out, without the least notion of the remarkable
powers he was evincing. She was delighted with the boy; Julius
guided his researches; and he went off to bed as happy as a king,
with his hands full of little dark tarnished French duodecimos, and
with a ravenous appetite for the pasture ground he saw before him.
Lower Canada had taught him French, and the stores he found were
revelry to him.
Cecil's feelings may be better guessed than described when the
return of Mudie's box was hastened that he might have Motley's Dutch
Republic. She thought this studiousness mere affectation; but it
was indisputable that Terry's soul was in books, and that he never
was so happy as when turned loose into the library, dipping here and
there, or with an elbow planted on either side of a folio.
Offers of gun or horse merely tormented him, and only his sister
could drag him out by specious pleas of need, to help in those
Christmas works, where she had much better assistance in Anne and
the curates--the one for clubs and coals, the other for decorations.
Mrs. Poynsett was Terry's best friend. He used to come to her in
the evening and discuss what he had been reading till she was almost
as keen about his success as Frank's. He talked over his ambition,
of getting a scholarship, becoming a fellow, and living for ever
among the books, for which the scanty supply in his wandering
boyhood had but whetted his fervour. He even confided to her what
no one else knew but his sister Aileen, his epic in twenty-four
books on Brian Boromhe and the Battle of Clontarf; and she was
mother enough not to predict its inevitable fate, nor audibly to
detect the unconscious plagiarisms, but to be a better listener than
even Aileen, who never could be withheld from unfeeling laughter at
the touching fate of the wounded warriors who were tied to stakes
that they might die fighting.
Tom was a more ordinary youth, even more lazy and quiet in the
house, though out of it he amazed Frank and Charlie by his dash,
fire, and daring, and witched all the stable-world with noble
horsemanship. Hunting was prevented, however, by a frost, which
filled every one with excitement as to the practicability of
skating.
The most available water was a lake between Sirenwood and Compton;
and here, like eagles to the slaughter, gathered, by a sort of
instinct, the entire skating population of the neighbourhood on the
first day that the ice was hard enough. Rosamond was there, of
course, with both her brothers, whom she averred, by a bold figure
of speech, to have skated in Canada before they could walk. Anne
was there, studying the new phenomena of ice and snow under good-
natured Charlie's protection, learning the art with unexpected
courage and dexterity. Cecil was there but not shining so much, for
her father had been always so nervous about his darling venturing on
the ice, that she had no skill in the art; and as Raymond had been
summoned to some political meeting, she had no special squire, as
her young brother-in-law eluded the being enlisted in her service;
and she began to decide that skating was irrational and unwomanly;
although Lady Tyrrell had just arrived, and was having her skates
put on; and Eleonora was only holding back because she was taking
care of the two purple-legged, purple-faced, and purple-haired
little Duncombes, whom she kept sliding in a corner, where they
could hardly damage themselves or the ice.
Cecil had just thanked Colonel Ross for pushing her in a chair, and
on his leaving her was deliberating whether to walk home with her
dignity, or watch for some other cavalier, when the drag drew up on
the road close by, and from it came Captain and Mrs. Duncombe, with
two strangers, who were introduced to her as 'Mrs. Tallboys and the
Professor, just fetched from the station.'
The former was exquisitely dressed in blue velvet and sealskin, and
had the transparent complexion and delicate features of an American,
with brilliant eyes, and a look of much cleverness; her husband,
small, sallow, and dark, and apparently out of health. "Are you
leaving off skating, Cecil?" asked Mrs. Duncombe; "goodness me, I
could go on into next year! But if you are wasting your privileges,
bestow them on Mrs. Tallboys, for pity's sake. We came in hopes
some good creature had a spare pair of skates. Gussie Moy offered,
but hers were yards too long."
"I hope mine are not too small," said Cecil, not quite crediting
that an American foot could be as small as that of a Charnock; but
she found herself mistaken, they were a perfect fit; and as they
were tried, there came a loud laugh, and she saw a tall girl
standing by her, whom, in her round felt hat and thick rough coat
with metal buttons, she had really taken for one of the Captain's
male friends.
"I wouldn't have such small feet," she said; "I shouldn't feel
secure of my understanding."
"Mrs. Tallboys would not change with you, Gussie," said Captain
Duncombe. "I'd back her any day--"
"What odds will you take, Captain--"
But Mrs. Duncombe broke in. "Bless me, if there aren't those little
dogs of mine! Lena Vivian does spoil them. Send them home, for
pity's sake, Bob."
"Poor little kids, they are doing no harm."
"We shall have them tumbling in, and no end of a row! I can't stand
a swarm of children after me, and they are making a perfect victim
of Lena. Send them home, Bob, or I shall have to do it."
The Captain obeyed somewhat ruefully. "Come, my lads, Bessie says
you must go home, and leave Miss Vivian in peace."
"O, Bob, please let us stay; Lena is taking care of us--"
"Indeed I like nothing so well," protested Lenore; but the Captain
murmured something about higher powers, and cheerfully saying he
would give the boys a run, took each by an unwilling hand, and raced
them into a state of frightened jollity by a short cut, by which he
was able to dispose of them in the drag.
The Professor, meanwhile, devoted himself to Mrs. Charnock Poynsett,
took her chair for a whirl on the ice; described American sleighing
parties; talked of his tour in Europe. He was really a clever,
observant man, and Cecil had not had any one to talk Italy to her
for a long time past, and responded with all her full precision.
The Professor might speak a little through his nose, but she had
seldom met any one more polite and accomplished.
Meantime, a quadrille was being got up. Such a performance and such
partners had never been seen in light that shone on water or on
land, being coupled by their dexterity in the art. They were led
off by Mrs. Duncombe and the Reverend James Bindon. Mrs. Tallboys
paired with Terry De Lancey, Lady Tyrrell with Herbert Bowater, Lady
Rosamond with one of the officers. Tom was pounced on by the great
'Gussy Moy,' who declared, to his bitter wrath, that she preferred
little boys, turning her back on Mr. Strangeways and two or three
more officers, as she saw them first solicitous to engage Eleonora
Vivian--who, however, was to skate with Charlie.
A few wistful glances were cast towards the Wil'sbro' road, for
Frank had been obliged by the cruel exigencies of the office to
devote this magnificent frosty day to the last agonies of cram.
This, however, had gone on better for the last fortnight--owing,
perhaps, to some relaxation of Eleonora's stern guard over her
countenance in their few meetings since Jenny's departure.
"And after all," as Charlie said, with the cheeriness of one who has
passed his own ordeal, "a man who had taken such a degree as Frank
could not depend on a few weeks of mere cramming."
Frank did come speedily up the road just as the quadrille was in
full force; and perhaps the hindrance had stood him in good stead;
for when the performance ceased in the twilight, and voices were
eagerly talking of renewing it as a fackel-tanz in the later
evening, and only yielding at the recollection of dinner
engagements, it was not Charlie who was taking off Eleonora's
skates; and when, after fixing grand plans for the morrow, Lady
Tyrrell mounted her pony-carriage and looked for her sister, she
heard that Miss Vivian was walking home.
Yes, Miss Vivian was walking home; and there was a companion by her
side feeling as if that dark, hard gravelled road were the pebbly
beach of Rockpier.
"When do you go to London?" she asked.
"To-morrow afternoon. Wish me well through, Lenore."
"Indeed I do."
"Say it again, Lenore! Give me the elixir that will give me power
to conquer everything."
"Don't say such exaggerated things."
"Do you think it is possible to me to exaggerate what a word from
you is to me?" said Frank, in a low voice of intense feeling.
"O Frank! it is wiser not to say such things."
"Wise! what is that to me? It is true, and you have known it--and
why will you not allow that you do, as in those happy old days--"
"That's what makes me fear. It would be so much better for you if
all this had never begun."
"It has begun, then!" murmured Frank, with joy and triumph in the
sound. "As long as you allow that, it is enough for me."
"I must! It is true; and truth must be somewhere!" was whispered in
a strange, low, resolute whisper.
"True! true that you can feel one particle of the intensity--Oh!
what words can I find to make you understand the glow and tenderness
the very thought of you has been!"
"Hush, hush!--pray, Frank. Now, if I do own it--"
"It--what? Let me hear! I'm very stupid, you know!" said Frank, in
a voice of exulting comprehension, belying his alleged stupidity.
"What you have been to me--"
"Have been--eh?" said this cruel cross-examiner.
"Do not let us waste time," said Eleonora, in a trembling voice;
"you know very well."
"Do I?"
"Now, Frank!"
"If you only knew what it would be worth to me to hear you say it!"
"I'm afraid it would be only worth pain and grief to you, and anger
from every one," said she, in a low dejected voice, "far more than I
am worth."
"You? Trust me to judge of that, Lenore. Would not you be worth
all, and more than all, that flesh or spirit could feel! I could
face it all for one look from you!" said Frank, with fervour from
his heart of hearts.
"You make me more and more afraid. It is all too wretched to lead
any one into. Since I knew the whole truth, I have tried to spare
you from it."
"That is why you have been so cold, and held so cruelly aloof all
this time, so that if I had not caught one ray now and then, you
would have broken my heart, Lenore; as it is, I've been wretched
beyond description, hardly able to sleep by night or speak
rationally by day. How had you the heart to serve me so, like a
stony Greek statue?"
"I thought it must be right. It seemed to break my own heart too."
"That's the woman's way of showing a thing is right; but why I can't
see. If you did hate me, it might be all very well to throw me
over; but if not, why torture two as well as one? Are you afraid of
my people? I'll manage them."
"You little know--"
"Know what?"
"All that made it cruel in Camilla to throw us together."
"Cruel! when it was the crowning joy of my past life, and is to be
the crowning joy of the future?"
"How can it? Frank, you must know the causes your mother has for
abhorring any connection with our unhappy family."
"My mother has too much sense to think a little extravagance among
the men of a family can affect the daughters. I know the outer
world is afraid of her, but she is the tenderest and most indulgent
of mothers to us. No fear of her!"
"Ah! but that's not all."
"You mean that she has not taken much to your sister. I know; and
I'm very sorry; but bring them together, and it would soon be got
over. Besides, it is not your sister, but you. What do you mean?"
rather disconcerted.
"Then you really did not know of the old engagement between Camilla
and your eldest brother?"
"Oh, oh! So she consented once! Then she will do so again."
"Listen! Camilla broke it off because your mother could not resign
her position to her."
He gave a whistle of dismay, then recovering himself with a laugh,
said, "Fourth sons don't have such expectations founded on them.
Don't fear, dearest; that can't be all the story, though no doubt it
was part of it. My mother would rather go into a hermitage than
stand in the way of Raymond's happiness. Some one must have made
mischief."
"It was not all," said the girl; "it was Lord Tyrrell's coming in
the way. Yes, my father told me so; he held it up to me as an
example of what one ought to do for one's family."
"Then she was coerced?"
"I don't know; but such a marriage for me, with some one who would
redeem the property, is their scheme for me. Even if your mother
and brother could tolerate the thought of one of us, my poor dear
father will never dare to consent as long as she is with him."
"Nay, Lenore; have I not often heard her say she prefers happiness
to ambition? Whatever she may have done, she has come to think
differently. She has well-nigh told me so."
"Yes, at Rockpier," sighed Eleonora. "Hark!" The sound of the
ponies' bells and hoofs was heard; Lenore put her hand on his arm,
and drew him aside on the grass, behind a clump of trees, hushing
him by a silent pressure as he tried to remonstrate. He clasped her
hand, and felt her trembling till the tinkling and tramp were gone
by.
"You frightened darling!" were his first words, when she let him
speak. "Who would have thought you would be so shy? But we'll have
it out, and--"
"It is not that," interrupted Lenore, "not maidenly shyness. That's
for girls who are happy and secure. No; but I don't want to have it
all overthrown at once--the first sweetness--"
"It can't be overthrown!" he said, holding arm and hand in the
intense grasp.
"Not really, never; but there is no use in attempting anything till
I am of age--next autumn, the 7th of November."
"Say nothing till then!" exclaimed Frank, in some consternation.
"We are only where we were before! We are sure of each other now.
It will be only vexation and harass," said she, with the instinct of
a persecuted creature.
"I couldn't," said Frank. "I could not keep it in with mother! It
would not be right if I could, nor should I feel as if I were acting
fairly by your father."
"You are right, Frank. Forgive me! You don't know what it is to
have to be always saving one's truth only by silence. Speak when
you think right."
"And I believe we shall find it far easier than you think. I'm not
quite a beggar--except for you, my Lena. I should like to go home
this minute, and tell mother and Charlie and Rose, that I'm--I'm
treading on air; but I should only be fallen upon for thinking of
anything but my task-work. So I'll take a leaf out of your book,
you cautious Lenore, and wait till I come down victorious, happy and
glorious--and I shall now. I feel as if you had given me power to
scale Olympus, now I know I may carry your heart with me. Do you
remember this, Lena?" He guided her hand to the smooth pebble on
his chain. She responded by putting her own into his.
"My talisman!" he said. "It has been my talisman of success many a
time. I have laid my hand on it, and thought I was working for you.
Mine! mine! mine! Waters cannot quench love--never fear."
"Hush!" as the light of the opening hall door was seen, and Lady
Tyrrell's voice was heard, saying, "I thought we passed her; I am
sure she was near."
Eleonora withdrew her arm, patted Frank back, waved him into
silence, and went forward, saying, "Here I am, Camilla; I walked
home."
Her voice was calm and self-contained as ever--the unassailable
dignity just as usual. The hall was full of officers, standing
about the fire and drinking tea, and Eleonora's well-worn armour was
instantly on, as her sister asked where she had been, since others
had walked home and had not overtaken her.
"I came by the lower road," said she.
"Indeed! I never saw you."
"I saw you pass--or rather heard you."
"And did not let me pick you up! Did you hide yourself?"
"It was much warmer to walk."
"So you seem to have found it, to judge by your cheeks," said Lady
Tyrrell.
And Mr. Strangeways and one or two others could not restrain a
murmured exclamation on the exceeding loveliness of that deepened
colour and brightened eye; but Lenore only knew that an equally
bright and keen eye was watching her heedfully, and knew that she
was suspected, if not read through and through.
She mingled in the discussion of the skating, with those outward
society-senses that she learnt to put on, and escaped as soon as
possible to her own room.
Again she almost fell on the ground in her own little oratory
chamber, in a tumult of gladness that was almost agony, and fear
that was almost joy.
She wanted to give thanks that Frank had become so wholly and
avowedly hers, and for that deep intense affection that had gone on,
unfed, uncherished, for years; but the overflow of delight was
checked with foreboding--there was the instinctive terror of a
basilisk eye gazing into her paradise of joy--the thanksgiving ran
into a half-despairing deprecation.
And she knew that Frank was under Camilla's spell, and admired and
trusted her still; nor had she been able to utter a word of caution
to undeceive him. Should she have the power on the morrow? Camilla
really loved skating, and surrounded as she was sure to be, there
was hope of escaping her vigilant eye once more. To-morrow there
would be another meeting with Frank! perhaps another walk with him!
That anticipation was soothing enough to bring back the power of
joyful gratitude, and therewith of hopeful prayer.