'My dear Gilbert, I wish you
would try to be a little more
amiable,' said my mother one
morning after some display of
unjustifiable ill-humour on my
part. 'You say there is nothing
the matter with you, and nothing
has happened to grieve you, and
yet I never saw anyone so altered
as you within these last few
days. You haven't a good word
for anybody - friends and strangers,
equals and inferiors - it's all
the same. I do wish you'd try
to check it.'
'Check what?'
'Why, your strange temper.
You don't know how it spoils
you. I'm sure a finer disposition
than yours by nature could not
be, if you'd let it have fair
play: so you've no excuse that
way.'
While she thus remonstrated,
I took up a book, and laying
it open on the table before me,
pretended to be deeply absorbed
in its perusal, for I was equally
unable to justify myself and
unwilling to acknowledge my errors;
and I wished to have nothing
to say on the matter. But my
excellent parent went on lecturing,
and then came to coaxing, and
began to stroke my hair; and
I was getting to feel quite a
good boy, but my mischievous
brother, who was idling about
the room, revived my corruption
by suddenly calling out, - 'Don't
touch him, mother! he'll bite!
He's a very tiger in human form.
I've given him up for my part
- fairly disowned him - cast
him off, root and branch. It's
as much as my life is worth to
come within six yards of him.
The other day he nearly fractured
my skull for singing a pretty,
inoffensive love-song, on purpose
to amuse him.'
'Oh, Gilbert! how could you?'
exclaimed my mother.
'I told you to hold your noise
first, you know, Fergus,' said
I.
'Yes, but when I assured you
it was no trouble and went on
with the next verse, thinking
you might like it better, you
clutched me by the shoulder and
dashed me away, right against
the wall there, with such force
that I thought I had bitten my
tongue in two, and expected to
see the place plastered with
my brains; and when I put my
hand to my head, and found my
skull not broken, I thought it
was a miracle, and no mistake.
But, poor fellow!' added he,
with a sentimental sigh - 'his
heart's broken - that's the truth
of it - and his head's - '
'Will
you be silent
NOW?' cried
I, starting up, and eyeing the
fellow so fiercely that my mother,
thinking I meant to inflict some
grievous bodily injury, laid
her hand on my arm, and besought
me to let him alone, and he walked
leisurely out, with his hands
in his pockets, singing provokingly
- 'Shall I, because a woman's
fair,' &c.
'I'm not going to defile my
fingers with him,' said I, in
answer to the maternal intercession.
'I wouldn't touch him with the
tongs.'
I now recollected that I had
business with Robert Wilson,
concerning the purchase of a
certain field adjoining my farm
- a business I had been putting
off from day to day; for I had
no interest in anything now;
and besides, I was misanthropically
inclined, and, moreover, had
a particular objection to meeting
Jane Wilson or her mother; for
though I had too good reason,
now, to credit their reports
concerning Mrs. Graham, I did
not like them a bit the better
for it - or Eliza Millward either
- and the thought of meeting
them was the more repugnant to
me that I could not, now, defy
their seeming calumnies and triumph
in my own convictions as before.
But to-day I determined to make
an effort to return to my duty.
Though I found no pleasure in
it, it would be less irksome
than idleness - at all events
it would be more profitable.
If life promised no enjoyment
within my vocation, at least
it offered no allurements out
of it; and henceforth I would
put my shoulder to the wheel
and toil away, like any poor
drudge of a cart-horse that was
fairly broken in to its labour,
and plod through life, not wholly
useless if not agreeable, and
uncomplaining if not contented
with my lot.
Thus resolving, with a kind
of sullen resignation, if such
a term may be allowed, I wended
my way to Ryecote Farm, scarcely
expecting to find its owner within
at this time of day, but hoping
to learn in what part of the
premises he was most likely to
be found.
Absent he was, but expected
home in a few minutes; and I
was desired to step into the
parlour and wait. Mrs. Wilson
was busy in the kitchen, but
the room was not empty; and I
scarcely checked an involuntary
recoil as I entered it; for there
sat Miss Wilson chattering with
Eliza Millward. However, I determined
to be cool and civil. Eliza seemed
to have made the same resolution
on her part. We had not met since
the evening of the tea-party;
but there was no visible emotion
either of pleasure or pain, no
attempt at pathos, no display
of injured pride: she was cool
in temper, civil in demeanour.
There was even an ease and cheerfulness
about her air and manner that
I made no pretension to; but
there was a depth of malice in
her too expressive eye that plainly
told me I was not forgiven; for,
though she no longer hoped to
win me to herself, she still
hated her rival, and evidently
delighted to wreak her spite
on me. On the other hand, Miss
Wilson was as affable and courteous
as heart could wish, and though
I was in no very conversable
humour myself, the two ladies
between them managed to keep
up a pretty continuous fire of
small talk. But Eliza took advantage
of the first convenient pause
to ask if I had lately seen Mrs.
Graham, in a tone of merely casual
inquiry, but with a sidelong
glance - intended to be playfully
mischievous - really, brimful
and running over with malice.
'Not lately,' I replied, in
a careless tone, but sternly
repelling her odious glances
with my eyes; for I was vexed
to feel the colour mounting to
my forehead, despite my strenuous
efforts to appear unmoved.
'What! are you beginning to
tire already? I thought so noble
a creature would have power to
attach you for a year at least!'
'I would rather not speak of
her now.'
'Ah! then you are convinced,
at last, of your mistake - you
have at length discovered that
your divinity is not quite the
immaculate - '
'I desired you not to speak
of her, Miss Eliza.'
'Oh, I beg your pardon! I perceive
Cupid's arrows have been too
sharp for you: the wounds, being
more than skin-deep, are not
yet healed, and bleed afresh
at every mention of the loved
one's name.'
'Say, rather,' interposed Miss
Wilson, 'that Mr. Markham feels
that name is unworthy to be mentioned
in the presence of right-minded
females. I wonder, Eliza, you
should think of referring to
that unfortunate person - you
might know the mention of her
would be anything but agreeable
to any one here present.'
How could this be borne? I
rose and was about to clap my
hat upon my head and burst away,
in wrathful indignation from
the house; but recollecting -
just in time to save my dignity
- the folly of such a proceeding,
and how it would only give my
fair tormentors a merry laugh
at my expense, for the sake of
one I acknowledged in my own
heart to be unworthy of the slightest
sacrifice - though the ghost
of my former reverence and love
so hung about me still, that
I could not bear to hear her
name aspersed by others - I merely
walked to the window, and having
spent a few seconds in vengibly
biting my lips and sternly repressing
the passionate heavings of my
chest, I observed to Miss Wilson,
that I could see nothing of her
brother, and added that, as my
time was precious, it would perhaps
be better to call again to-morrow,
at some time when I should be
sure to find him at home.
'Oh, no!' said she; 'if you
wait a minute, he will be sure
to come; for he has business
at L-' (that was our market-town),
'and will require a little refreshment
before he goes.'
I submitted accordingly, with
the best grace I could; and,
happily, I had not long to wait.
Mr. Wilson soon arrived, and,
indisposed for business as I
was at that moment, and little
as I cared for the field or its
owner, I forced my attention
to the matter in hand, with very
creditable determination, and
quickly concluded the bargain
- perhaps more to the thrifty
farmer's satisfaction than he
cared to acknowledge. Then, leaving
him to the discussion of his
substantial 'refreshment,' I
gladly quitted the house, and
went to look after my reapers.
Leaving them busy at work on
the side of the valley, I ascended
the hill, intending to visit
a corn-field in the more elevated
regions, and see when it would
be ripe for the sickle. But I
did not visit it that day; for,
as I approached, I beheld, at
no great distance, Mrs. Graham
and her son coming down in the
opposite direction. They saw
me; and Arthur already was running
to meet me; but I immediately
turned back and walked steadily
homeward; for I had fully determined
never to encounter his mother
again; and regardless of the
shrill voice in my ear, calling
upon me to 'wait a moment,' I
pursued the even tenor of my
way; and he soon relinquished
the pursuit as hopeless, or was
called away by his mother. At
all events, when I looked back,
five minutes after, not a trace
of either was to be seen.
This incident agitated and
disturbed me most unaccountably
- unless you would account for
it by saying that Cupid's arrows
not only had been too sharp for
me, but they were barbed and
deeply rooted, and I had not
yet been able to wrench them
from my heart. However that be,
I was rendered doubly miserable
for the remainder of the day.
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