Not many days after this, on
a mild sunny morning - rather
soft under foot; for the last
fall of snow was only just wasted
away, leaving yet a thin ridge,
here and there, lingering on
the fresh green grass beneath
the hedges; but beside them already,
the young primroses were peeping
from among their moist, dark
foliage, and the lark above was
singing of summer, and hope,
and love, and every heavenly
thing - I was out on the hill-side,
enjoying these delights, and
looking after the well-being
of my young lambs and their mothers,
when, on glancing round me, I
beheld three persons ascending
from the vale below. They were
Eliza Millward, Fergus, and Rose;
so I crossed the field to meet
them; and, being told they were
going to Wildfell Hall, I declared
myself willing to go with them,
and offering my arm to Eliza,
who readily accepted it in lieu
of my brother's, told the latter
he might go back, for I would
accompany the ladies.
'I beg your pardon!' exclaimed
he. 'It's the ladies that are
accompanying me, not I them.
You had all had a peep at this
wonderful stranger but me, and
I could endure my wretched ignorance
no longer - come what would,
I must be satisfied; so I begged
Rose to go with me to the Hall,
and introduce me to her at once.
She swore she would not, unless
Miss Eliza would go too; so I
ran to the vicarage and fetched
her; and we've come hooked all
the way, as fond as a pair of
lovers - and now you've taken
her from me; and you want to
deprive me of my walk and my
visit besides. Go back to your
fields and your cattle, you lubberly
fellow; you're not fit to associate
with ladies and gentlemen like
us, that have nothing to do but
to run snooking about to our
neighbours' houses, peeping into
their private corners, and scenting
out their secrets, and picking
holes in their coats, when we
don't find them ready made to
our hands - you don't understand
such refined sources of enjoyment.'
'Can't you both go?' suggested
Eliza, disregarding the latter
half of the speech.
'Yes, both, to be sure!' cried
Rose; 'the more the merrier -
and I'm sure we shall want all
the cheerfulness we can carry
with us to that great, dark,
gloomy room, with its narrow
latticed windows, and its dismal
old furniture - unless she shows
us into her studio again.'
So we went all in a body; and
the meagre old maid-servant,
that opened the door, ushered
us into an apartment such as
Rose had described to me as the
scene of her first introduction
to Mrs. Graham, a tolerably spacious
and lofty room, but obscurely
lighted by the old-fashioned
windows, the ceiling, panels,
and chimney- piece of grim black
oak - the latter elaborately
but not very tastefully carved,
- with tables and chairs to match,
an old bookcase on one side of
the fire-place, stocked with
a motley assemblage of books,
and an elderly cabinet piano
on the other.
The lady was seated in a stiff,
high-backed arm-chair, with a
small round table, containing
a desk and a work-basket on one
side of her, and her little boy
on the other, who stood leaning
his elbow on her knee, and reading
to her, with wonderful fluency,
from a small volume that lay
in her lap; while she rested
her hand on his shoulder, and
abstractedly played with the
long, wavy curls that fell on
his ivory neck. They struck me
as forming a pleasing contrast
to all the surrounding objects;
but of course their position
was immediately changed on our
entrance. I could only observe
the picture during the few brief
seconds that Rachel held the
door for our admittance.
I do not think Mrs. Graham
was particularly delighted to
see us: there was something indescribably
chilly in her quiet, calm civility;
but I did not talk much to her.
Seating myself near the window,
a little back from the circle,
I called Arthur to me, and he
and I and Sancho amused ourselves
very pleasantly together, while
the two young ladies baited his
mother with small talk, and Fergus
sat opposite with his legs crossed
and his hands in his breeches-pockets,
leaning back in his chair, and
staring now up at the ceiling,
now straight forward at his hostess
(in a manner that made me strongly
inclined to kick him out of the
room), now whistling sotto voce
to himself a snatch of a favourite
air, now interrupting the conversation,
or filling up a pause (as the
case might be) with some most
impertinent question or remark.
At one time it was, - 'It, amazes
me, Mrs. Graham, how you could
choose such a dilapidated, rickety
old place as this to live in.
If you couldn't afford to occupy
the whole house, and have it
mended up, why couldn't you take
a neat little cottage?'
'Perhaps I was too proud, Mr.
Fergus,' replied she, smiling;
'perhaps I took a particular
fancy for this romantic, old-fashioned
place - but, indeed, it has many
advantages over a cottage - in
the first place, you see, the
rooms are larger and more airy;
in the second place, the unoccupied
apartments, which I don't pay
for, may serve as lumber-rooms,
if I have anything to put in
them; and they are very useful
for my little boy to run about
in on rainy days when he can't
go out; and then there is the
garden for him to play in, and
for me to work in. You see I
have effected some little improvement
already,' continued she, turning
to the window. 'There is a bed
of young vegetables in that corner,
and here are some snowdrops and
primroses already in bloom -
and there, too, is a yellow crocus
just opening in the sunshine.'
'But then how can you bear
such a situation - your nearest
neighbours two miles distant,
and nobody looking in or passing
by? Rose would go stark mad in
such a place. She can't put on
life unless she sees half a dozen
fresh gowns and bonnets a day
- not to speak of the faces within;
but you might sit watching at
these windows all day long, and
never see so much as an old woman
carrying her eggs to market.'
'I am not sure the loneliness
of the place was not one of its
chief recommendations. I take
no pleasure in watching people
pass the windows; and I like
to be quiet.'
'Oh! as good as to say you
wish we would all of us mind
our own business, and let you
alone.'
'No, I dislike an extensive
acquaintance; but if I have a
few friends, of course I am glad
to see them occasionally. No
one can be happy in eternal solitude.
Therefore, Mr. Fergus, if you
choose to enter my house as a
friend, I will make you welcome;
if not, I must confess, I would
rather you kept away.' She then
turned and addressed some observation
to Rose or Eliza.
'And, Mrs. Graham,' said he
again, five minutes after, 'we
were disputing, as we came along,
a question that you can readily
decide for us, as it mainly regarded
yourself - and, indeed, we often
hold discussions about you; for
some of us have nothing better
to do than to talk about our
neighbours' concerns, and we,
the indigenous plants of the
soil, have known each other so
long, and talked each other over
so often, that we are quite sick
of that game; so that a stranger
coming amongst us makes an invaluable
addition to our exhausted sources
of amusement. Well, the question,
or questions, you are requested
to solve - '
'Hold your tongue, Fergus!'
cried Rose, in a fever of apprehension
and wrath.
'I won't, I tell you. The questions
you are requested to solve are
these:- First, concerning your
birth, extraction, and previous
residence. Some will have it
that you are a foreigner, and
some an Englishwoman; some a
native of the north country,
and some of the south; some say
- '
'Well, Mr. Fergus, I'll tell
you. I'm an Englishwoman - and
I don't see why any one should
doubt it - and I was born in
the country, neither in the extreme
north nor south of our happy
isle; and in the country I have
chiefly passed my life, and now
I hope you are satisfied; for
I am not disposed to answer any
more questions at present.'
'Except this - '
'No, not one more!' laughed
she, and, instantly quitting
her seat, she sought refuge at
the window by which I was seated,
and, in very desperation, to
escape my brother's persecutions,
endeavoured to draw me into conversation.
'Mr. Markham,' said she, her
rapid utterance and heightened
colour too plainly evincing her
disquietude, 'have you forgotten
the fine sea-view we were speaking
of some time ago? I think I must
trouble you, now, to tell me
the nearest way to it; for if
this beautiful weather continue,
I shall, perhaps, be able to
walk there, and take my sketch;
I have exhausted every other
subject for painting; and I long
to see it.'
I was about to comply with
her request, but Rose would not
suffer me to proceed.
'Oh, don't tell her, Gilbert!'
cried she; 'she shall go with
us. It's - Bay you are thinking
about, I suppose, Mrs. Graham?
It is a very long walk, too far
for you, and out of the question
for Arthur. But we were thinking
about making a picnic to see
it some fine day; and, if you
will wait till the settled fine
weather comes, I'm sure we shall
all be delighted to have you
amongst us.'
Poor Mrs. Graham looked dismayed,
and attempted to make excuses,
but Rose, either compassionating
her lonely life, or anxious to
cultivate her acquaintance, was
determined to have her; and every
objection was overruled. She
was told it would only be a small
party, and all friends, and that
the best view of all was from
- Cliffs, full five miles distant.
'Just a nice walk for the gentlemen,'
continued Rose; 'but the ladies
will drive and walk by turns;
for we shall have our pony- carriage,
which will be plenty large enough
to contain little Arthur and
three ladies, together with your
sketching apparatus, and our
provisions.'
So the proposal was finally
acceded to; and, after some further
discussion respecting the time
and manner of the projected excursion,
we rose, and took our leave.
But this was only March: a
cold, wet April, and two weeks
of May passed over before we
could venture forth on our expedition
with the reasonable hope of obtaining
that pleasure we sought in pleasant
prospects, cheerful society,
fresh air, good cheer and exercise,
without the alloy of bad roads,
cold winds, or threatening clouds.
Then, on a glorious morning,
we gathered our forces and set
forth. The company consisted
of Mrs. and Master Graham, Mary
and Eliza Millward, Jane and
Richard Wilson, and Rose, Fergus,
and Gilbert Markham.
Mr. Lawrence had been invited
to join us, but, for some reason
best known to himself, had refused
to give us his company. I had
solicited the favour myself.
When I did so, he hesitated,
and asked who were going. Upon
my naming Miss Wilson among the
rest, he seemed half inclined
to go, but when I mentioned Mrs.
Graham, thinking it might be
a further inducement, it appeared
to have a contrary effect, and
he declined it altogether, and,
to confess the truth, the decision
was not displeasing to me, though
I could scarcely tell you why.
It was about midday when we
reached the place of our destination.
Mrs. Graham walked all the way
to the cliffs; and little Arthur
walked the greater part of it
too; for he was now much more
hardy and active than when he
first entered the neighbourhood,
and he did not like being in
the carriage with strangers,
while all his four friends, mamma,
and Sancho, and Mr. Markham,
and Miss Millward, were on foot,
journeying far behind, or passing
through distant fields and lanes.
I have a very pleasant recollection
of that walk, along the hard,
white, sunny road, shaded here
and there with bright green trees,
and adorned with flowery banks
and blossoming hedges of delicious
fragrance; or through pleasant
fields and lanes, all glorious
in the sweet flowers and brilliant
verdure of delightful May. It
was true, Eliza was not beside
me; but she was with her friends
in the pony-carriage, as happy,
I trusted, as I was; and even
when we pedestrians, having forsaken
the highway for a short cut across
the fields, beheld the little
carriage far away, disappearing
amid the green, embowering trees,
I did not hate those trees for
snatching the dear little bonnet
and shawl from my sight, nor
did I feel that all those intervening
objects lay between my happiness
and me; for, to confess the truth,
I was too happy in the company
of Mrs. Graham to regret the
absence of Eliza, Millward.
The former, it is true, was
most provokingly unsociable at
first - seemingly bent upon talking
to no one but Mary Millward and
Arthur. She and Mary journeyed
along together, generally with
the child between them; - but
where the road permitted, I always
walked on the other side of her,
Richard Wilson taking the other
side of Miss Millward, and Fergus
roving here and there according
to his fancy; and, after a while,
she became more friendly, and
at length I succeeded in securing
her attention almost entirely
to myself - and then I was happy
indeed; for whenever she did
condescend to converse, I liked
to listen. Where her opinions
and sentiments tallied with mine,
it was her extreme good sense,
her exquisite taste and feeling,
that delighted me; where they
differed, it was still her uncompromising
boldness in the avowal or defence
of that difference, her earnestness
and keenness, that piqued my
fancy: and even when she angered
me by her unkind words or looks,
and her uncharitable conclusions
respecting me, it only made me
the more dissatisfied with myself
for having so unfavourably impressed
her, and the more desirous to
vindicate my character and disposition
in her eyes, and, if possible,
to win her esteem.
At length our walk was ended.
The increasing height and boldness
of the hills had for some time
intercepted the prospect; but,
on gaining the summit of a steep
acclivity, and looking downward,
an opening lay before us - and
the blue sea burst upon our sight!
- deep violet blue - not deadly
calm, but covered with glinting
breakers - diminutive white specks
twinkling on its bosom, and scarcely
to be distinguished, by the keenest
vision, from the little seamews
that sported above, their white
wings glittering in the sunshine:
only one or two vessels were
visible, and those were far away.
I looked at my companion to
see what she thought of this
glorious scene. She said nothing:
but she stood still, and fixed
her eyes upon it with a gaze
that assured me she was not disappointed.
She had very fine eyes, by-the-by
- I don't know whether I have
told you before, but they were
full of soul, large, clear, and
nearly black - not brown, but
very dark grey. A cool, reviving
breeze blew from the sea - soft,
pure, salubrious: it waved her
drooping ringlets, and imparted
a livelier colour to her usually
too pallid lip and cheek. She
felt its exhilarating influence,
and so did I - I felt it tingling
through my frame, but dared not
give way to it while she remained
so quiet. There was an aspect
of subdued exhilaration in her
face, that kindled into almost
a smile of exalted, glad intelligence
as her eye met mine. Never had
she looked so lovely: never had
my heart so warmly cleaved to
her as now. Had we been left
two minutes longer standing there
alone, I cannot answer for the
consequences. Happily for my
discretion, perhaps for my enjoyment
during the remainder of the day,
we were speedily summoned to
the repast - a very respectable
collation, which Rose, assisted
by Miss Wilson and Eliza, who,
having shared her seat in the
carriage, had arrived with her
a little before the rest, had
set out upon an elevated platform
overlooking the sea, and sheltered
from the hot sun by a shelving
rock and overhanging trees.
Mrs. Graham seated herself
at a distance from me. Eliza
was my nearest neighbour. She
exerted herself to be agreeable,
in her gentle, unobtrusive way,
and was, no doubt, as fascinating
and charming as ever, if I could
only have felt it. But soon my
heart began to warm towards her
once again; and we were all very
merry and happy together - as
far as I could see - throughout
the protracted social meal.
When
that was over,
Rose summoned
Fergus to help her to gather
up the fragments, and the knives,
dishes, &c., and restore them
to the baskets; and Mrs. Graham
took her camp-stool and drawing
materials; and having begged
Miss Millward to take charge
of her precious son, and strictly
enjoined him not to wander from
his new guardian's side, she
left us and proceeded along the
steep, stony hill, to a loftier,
more precipitous eminence at
some distance, whence a still
finer prospect was to be had,
where she preferred taking her
sketch, though some of the ladies
told her it was a frightful place,
and advised her not to attempt
it.
When she was gone, I felt as
if there was to be no more fun
- though it is difficult to say
what she had contributed to the
hilarity of the party. No jests,
and little laughter, had escaped
her lips; but her smile had animated
my mirth; a keen observation
or a cheerful word from her had
insensibly sharpened my wits,
and thrown an interest over all
that was done and said by the
rest. Even my conversation with
Eliza had been enlivened by her
presence, though I knew it not;
and now that she was gone, Eliza's
playful nonsense ceased to amuse
me - nay, grew wearisome to my
soul, and I grew weary of amusing
her: I felt myself drawn by an
irresistible attraction to that
distant point where the fair
artist sat and plied her solitary
task - and not long did I attempt
to resist it: while my little
neighbour was exchanging a few
words with Miss Wilson, I rose
and cannily slipped away. A few
rapid strides, and a little active
clambering, soon brought me to
the place where she was seated
- a narrow ledge of rock at the
very verge of the cliff, which
descended with a steep, precipitous
slant, quite down to the rocky
shore.
She did not hear me coming:
the falling of my shadow across
her paper gave her an electric
start; and she looked hastily
round - any other lady of my
acquaintance would have screamed
under such a sudden alarm.
'Oh! I didn't know it was you.
- Why did you startle me so?'
said she, somewhat testily. 'I
hate anybody to come upon me
so unexpectedly.'
'Why, what did you take me
for?' said I: 'if I had known
you were so nervous, I would
have been more cautious; but
- '
'Well, never mind. What did
you come for? are they all coming?'
'No; this little ledge could
scarcely contain them all.'
'I'm glad, for I'm tired of
talking.'
'Well, then, I won't talk.
I'll only sit and watch your
drawing.'
'Oh, but you know I don't like
that.'
'Then I'll content myself with
admiring this magnificent prospect.'
She made no objection to this;
and, for some time, sketched
away in silence. But I could
not help stealing a glance, now
and then, from the splendid view
at our feet to the elegant white
hand that held the pencil, and
the graceful neck and glossy
raven curls that drooped over
the paper.
'Now,' thought I, 'if I had
but a pencil and a morsel of
paper, I could make a lovelier
sketch than hers, admitting I
had the power to delineate faithfully
what is before me.'
But, though this satisfaction
was denied me, I was very well
content to sit beside her there,
and say nothing.
'Are you there still, Mr. Markham?'
said she at length, looking round
upon me - for I was seated a
little behind on a mossy projection
of the cliff. - 'Why don't you
go and amuse yourself with your
friends?'
'Because I am tired of them,
like you; and I shall have enough
of them to-morrow - or at any
time hence; but you I may not
have the pleasure of seeing again
for I know not how long.'
'What was Arthur doing when
you came away?'
'He was with Miss Millward,
where you left him - all right,
but hoping mamma would not be
long away. You didn't intrust
him to me, by-the-by,' I grumbled,
'though I had the honour of a
much longer acquaintance; but
Miss Millward has the art of
conciliating and amusing children,'
I carelessly added, 'if she is
good for nothing else.'
'Miss Millward has many estimable
qualities, which such as you
cannot be expected to perceive
or appreciate. Will you tell
Arthur that I shall come in a
few minutes?'
'If that be the case, I will
wait, with your permission, till
those few minutes are past; and
then I can assist you to descend
this difficult path.'
'Thank you - I always manage
best, on such occasions, without
assistance.'
'But, at least, I can carry
your stool and sketch-book.'
She did not deny me this favour;
but I was rather offended at
her evident desire to be rid
of me, and was beginning to repent
of my pertinacity, when she somewhat
appeased me by consulting my
taste and judgment about some
doubtful matter in her drawing.
My opinion, happily, met her
approbation, and the improvement
I suggested was adopted without
hesitation.
'I have often wished in vain,'
said she, 'for another's judgment
to appeal to when I could scarcely
trust the direction of my own
eye and head, they having been
so long occupied with the contemplation
of a single object as to become
almost incapable of forming a
proper idea respecting it.'
'That,' replied I, 'is only
one of many evils to which a
solitary life exposes us.'
'True,' said she; and again
we relapsed into silence.
About two minutes after, however,
she declared her sketch completed,
and closed the book.
On returning to the scene of
our repast we found all the company
had deserted it, with the exception
of three - Mary Millward, Richard
Wilson, and Arthur Graham. The
younger gentleman lay fast asleep
with his head pillowed on the
lady's lap; the other was seated
beside her with a pocket edition
of some classic author in his
hand. He never went anywhere
without such a companion wherewith
to improve his leisure moments:
all time seemed lost that was
not devoted to study, or exacted,
by his physical nature, for the
bare support of life. Even now
he could not abandon himself
to the enjoyment of that pure
air and balmy sunshine - that
splendid prospect, and those
soothing sounds, the music of
the waves and of the soft wind
in the sheltering trees above
him - not even with a lady by
his side (though not a very charming
one, I will allow) - he must
pull out his book, and make the
most of his time while digesting
his temperate meal, and reposing
his weary limbs, unused to so
much exercise.
Perhaps, however, he spared
a moment to exchange a word or
a glance with his companion now
and then - at any rate, she did
not appear at all resentful of
his conduct; for her homely features
wore an expression of unusual
cheerfulness and serenity, and
she was studying his pale, thoughtful
face with great complacency when
we arrived.
The journey homeward was by
no means so agreeable to me as
the former part of the day: for
now Mrs. Graham was in the carriage,
and Eliza Millward was the companion
of my walk. She had observed
my preference for the young widow,
and evidently felt herself neglected.
She did not manifest her chagrin
by keen reproaches, bitter sarcasms,
or pouting sullen silence - any
or all of these I could easily
have endured, or lightly laughed
away; but she showed it by a
kind of gentle melancholy, a
mild, reproachful sadness that
cut me to the heart. I tried
to cheer her up, and apparently
succeeded in some degree, before
the walk was over; but in the
very act my conscience reproved
me, knowing, as I did, that,
sooner or later, the tie must
be broken, and this was only
nourishing false hopes and putting
off the evil day.
When the pony-carriage had
approached as near Wildfell Hall
as the road would permit - unless,
indeed, it proceeded up the long
rough lane, which Mrs. Graham
would not allow - the young widow
and her son alighted, relinquishing
the driver's seat to Rose; and
I persuaded Eliza to take the
latter's place. Having put her
comfortably in, bid her take
care of the evening air, and
wished her a kind good-night,
I felt considerably relieved,
and hastened to offer my services
to Mrs. Graham to carry her apparatus
up the fields, but she had already
hung her camp-stool on her arm
and taken her sketch-book in
her hand, and insisted upon bidding
me adieu then and there, with
the rest of the company. But
this time she declined my proffered
aid in so kind and friendly a
manner that I almost forgave
her.
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