Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER XLVIII

  MOTHER SCUDAMORE

  If we want to know how a tree or flower has borne the gale that floggedlast night, or the frost that stung the morning, the only sure plan isto go and see. And the only way to understand how a friend has takenaffliction is to go--if it may be done without intrusion--and let himtell you, if he likes.

  Admiral Darling was so much vexed when he heard of Blyth Scudamore'scapture by the French, and duty compelled him to inform the mother, thathe would rather have ridden a thousand miles upon barley-bread thanface her. He knew how the whole of her life was now bound up with thefortunes of her son, and he longed to send Faith with the bad news, ashe had sent her with the good before; but he feared that it might seemunkind. So he went himself, with the hope of putting the best complexionupon it, yet fully expecting sad distress, and perhaps a burst ofweeping. But the lady received his tidings in a manner that surprisedhim. At first she indulged in a tear or two, but they only introduced asmile.

  "In some ways it is a sad thing," she said, "and will be a terrible blowto him, just when he was rising so fast in the service. But we must notrebel more than we can help, against the will of the Lord, Sir Charles."

  "How philosophical, and how commonplace!" thought the Admiral; but heonly bowed, and paid her some compliment upon her common-sense.

  "Perhaps you scarcely understand my views, and perhaps I am wrong inhaving them," Lady Scudamore continued, quietly. "My son's advancementis very dear to me, and this will of course retard it. But I care mostof all for his life, and now that will be safe for a long while. Theynever kill their prisoners, do they?"

  "No, ma'am, no. They behave very well to them; better, I'm afraid, thanwe do to ours. They treat them quite as guests, when they fall into goodhands. Though Napoleon himself is not too mild in that way."

  "My son has fallen into very good hands, as you yourself assure me--thatCaptain Desportes, a gallant officer and kind gentleman, as I know fromyour daughter's description. Blyth is quite equal to Lord Nelson inpersonal daring, and possibly not behind him in abilities. Consider howshockingly poor Nelson has been injured, and he feels convinced himselfthat they will have his life at last. No officer can be a hero withoutgetting very sad wounds, and perhaps losing his life. Every one who doeshis duty must at least be wounded."

  The Admiral, who had never received a scratch, was not at all charmedwith this view of naval duty; but he was too polite to enter protest,and only made one of his old-fashioned scrapes.

  "I am sure every time I have heard a gun coming from the sea, andespecially after dark," the lady resumed, without thinking of him, "ithas made me miserable to know that probably Blyth was rushing into somedeadly conflict. But now I shall feel that he cannot do that; and I hopethey will keep him until the fighting grows milder. He used to send meall his money, poor dear boy! And now I shall try to send him some ofmine, if it can be arranged about bank-notes. And now I can do it veryeasily, thanks to your kindness, Sir Charles, his father's best friend,and his own, and mine."

  Lady Scudamore shed another tear or two, not of sorrow, but of pride,while she put her hand into her pocket, as if to begin the remittance atonce. "You owe me no thanks, ma'am," said the Admiral, smiling; "if anythanks are due, they are due to the King, for remembering at last whathe should have done before."

  "Would he ever have thought of me, but for you? It is useless to talkin that way, Sir Charles; it only increases the obligation, which I mustentreat you not to do. How I wish I could help you in anything!"

  "Every day you are helping me," he replied, with truth; "although I amaway too often to know all about it, or even to thank you. I hope mydear Faith has persuaded you not to leave us for the winter, as youthreatened."

  "Faith can persuade me to anything she pleases. She possesses the powerof her name," replied the lady; "but the power is not called for, whenthe persuasion is so pleasant. For a month, I must be away to visit mydear mother, as I always have done at this time of year; and then, butfor one thing, I would return most gladly. For I am very selfish, youmust know, Sir Charles--I have a better chance of hearing of my dearson at these head-quarters of the defence of England, than I should haveeven in London."

  "Certainly," cried the Admiral, who magnified his office; "such a numberof despatches pass through my hands; and if I can't make them out, why,my daughter Dolly can. I don't suppose, Lady Scudamore, that even whenyou lived in the midst of the world you ever saw any girl half soclever as my Dolly. I don't let her know it--that would never do, ofcourse--but she always gets the best of me, upon almost any question."

  Sir Charles, for the moment, forgot his best manners, and spread hiscoat so that one might see between his legs. "I stand like this," hesaid, "and she stands there; and I take her to task for not paying herbills--for some of those fellows have had to come to me, which is notas it should be in a country place, where people don't understand thefashionable system. She stands there, ma'am, and I feel as sure as if Iwere an English twenty-four bearing down upon a Frenchman of fiftyguns, that she can only haul her colours down and rig out gangwayladders--when, bless me and keep me! I am carried by surprise, anddriven under hatchways, and if there is a guinea in my hold, it fliesinto the enemy's locker! If it happened only once, I should thinknothing of it. But when I know exactly what is coming, and havedouble-shotted every gun, and set up hammock-nettings, and takenuncommon care to have the weather-gage, 'tis the Devil, LadyScudamore--excuse me, madam--'tis the Devil to a ditty-bag that I haveher at my mercy. And yet it always comes to money out of pocket, madam!"

  "She certainly has a great power over gentlemen"--Blyth's mother smileddemurely, as if she were sorry to confess it; "but she is exceedinglyyoung, Sir Charles, and every allowance must be made for her."

  "And by the Lord Harry, she gets it, madam. She takes uncommonly goodcare of that. But what is the one thing you mentioned that would preventyou from coming back to us with pleasure?"

  "I scarcely like to speak of it. But it is about that self-same Dolly.She is not fond of advice, and she knows how quick she is, and thatmakes her resent a word from slower people. She has taken it into herhead, I fear, that I am here as a restraint upon her; a sort of ladyspy, a duenna, a dictatress, all combined in one, and all unpleasant.This often makes me fancy that I have no right to be here. And then yoursweet Faith comes, and all is smooth again."

  "Dolly has the least little possible touch of the vixen about her. Ihave found it out lately," said the Admiral, as if he were half doubtfulstill; "Nelson told me so, and I was angry with him. But I believe hewas right, as he generally is. His one eye sees more than a score ofmine would. But, my dear madam, if that is your only objection to comingback to us, or rather to my daughters, I beg you not to let it weigh afeather's weight with you. Or, at any rate, enhance the obligation tous, by putting it entirely on one side. Dolly has the very finest heartin all the world; not so steady perhaps as Faith's, nor quite so fair toother people, but wonderfully warm, ma'am, and as sound as--as a roach."

  Lady Scudamore could not help laughing a little, and she hoped for herson's sake that this account was true. Her gratitude and good-will tothe Admiral, as well as her duty to her son, made her give the promisesought for; and she began to prepare for her journey at once, that shemight be back in good time for the winter. But she felt very doubtful,at leaving the Hall, whether she had done quite right in keeping hersuspicions of Dolly from Dolly's father. For with eyes which weresharpened by jealousy for the interests, or at least the affections,of her son, she had long perceived that his lady-love was playing adangerous game with Caryl Carne. Sometimes she believed that she oughtto speak of this, for the good of the family; because she felt thedeepest mistrust and dislike of Carne, who strictly avoided her wheneverhe could; but on the other hand she found the subject most delicate anddifficult to handle. For she had taken good care at the outset not to behere upon any false pretences. At the very first interview with her hostshe had spoken of Blyth's attachment to his younger daug
hter, of whichthe Admiral had heard already from that youthful sailor. And the Admiralhad simply said, as in Captain Twemlow's case: "Let us leave them tothemselves. I admire the young man. If she likes him, I shall make noobjection, when they are old enough, and things are favourable." And nowif she told him of the other love-affair, it would look like jealousyof a rival. Perhaps a hundred times a day, as her love for gentle Faithgrew faster than her liking for the sprightly Dolly, she would sighthat her son did not see things like herself; but bitter affliction hadtaught her that the course of this life follows our own wishes aboutas much as another man's dog heeds our whistle. But, for all that, thisgood lady hoped some day to see things come round as she would like tobring them.

  "No wonder that we like her son so much," said Faith when they had donewaving handkerchiefs at the great yellow coach going slowly up the hill,with its vast wicker basket behind, and the guard perched over it withhis blunderbus; "he takes after his mother in so many ways. They areboth so simple and unsuspicious, and they make the best of every one."

  "Including themselves, I suppose," answered Dolly. "Well I like peoplewho have something on their minds, and make the worst of everybody. Theyhave so much more to talk about."

  "You should never try to be sarcastic, dear. And you know that you don'tmean it. I am sure you don't like to have the worst made of yourself."

  "Oh, I have long been used to that. And I never care about it, when Iknow it is not true. I am sure that Mother Scudamore runs me down, whenI am out of hearing. I never did like those perfect people."

  "Mother Scudamore, indeed! You are getting into a low way of talking,which is not at all pretty in a girl. And I never heard her say anunkind word about you. Though she may not have found you quite soperfect as she hoped."

  "I tell you, Miss Darling," cried Dolly, with her bright colourdeepened, and her grey eyes flashing, "that I don't care a--somethingthat papa often says--what she thinks about me, or you either. I knowthat she has come here to spy out all my ways."

  "You should not have any to be spied out, Dolly," Faith answered, withsome sternness, and a keen look at her sister, whose eyes fell beneathher gaze. "You will be sorry, when you think of what you said to me, whohave done nothing whatever to offend you. But that is a trifle comparedwith acting unfairly to our father. Father is the kindest man that everlived; but he can be stern in great matters, I warn you. If he everbelieves that you have deceived him, you will never be again to him whatyou have always been."

  They had sent the carriage home that they might walk across the fields,and this little scene between the sisters took place upon a foot-pathwhich led back to their grounds. Dolly knew that she was in the wrong,and that increased her anger.

  "So you are another spy upon me, I suppose. 'Tis a pretty thing to haveone's sister for an old duenna. Pray who gave you authority to lord itover me?"

  "You know as well as I do"--Faith spoke with a smile of superiorcalmness, as Dolly tossed her head--"that I am about the last person inthe world to be a spy. Neither do I ever lord it over you. If anything,that matter is very much the other way. But being so much older, andyour principal companion, it would be very odd of me, and as I thinkmost unkind, if I did not take an interest in all your goings on."

  "My goings on! What a lady-like expression! Who has got into a low wayof talking now? Well, if you please, madam, what have you found out?"

  "I have found out nothing, and made no attempt to do so. But I see thatyou are altered very much from what you used to be; and I am sure thatthere is something on your mind. Why not tell me all about it? I wouldpromise to let it go no further, and I would not pretend to advise,unless you wished. I am your only sister, and we have always beentogether. It would make you so much more comfortable, I am certain ofthat, in your own mind, darling. And you know when we were little girls,dear mother on her death-bed put her hands upon our heads and said, 'Beloving sisters always, and never let anything come between you.' Andfor father's sake, too, you should try to do it. Put aside all nonsenseabout spies and domineering, and trust me as your sister, that's my owndarling Dolly."

  "How can I resist you? I will make a clean breast of it;" Dolly sigheddeeply, but a wicked smile lay ambushed in her bright eyes and upon herrosy lips. "The sad truth is that my heart has been quite sore since Iheard the shocking tidings about poor old Daddy Stokes. He went to bedthe other night with his best hat on, both his arms in an old muff hefound in the ditch, and his leathern breeches turned inside out."

  "Then the poor old man had a cleaner breast than yours," cried Faith,who had prepared her heart and eyes for tears of sympathy; "he goes uponhis knees every night, stiff as they are, and his granddaughter hasto help him up. But as for you, you are the most unfeeling, mocking,godless, unnatural creature that ever never cared what became ofanybody. Here we are at the corner where the path divides. You go homethat way, and I'll go home by this."

  "Well, I'm so glad! I really did believe that it was quite impossible toput you in a rage. Now don't be in a hurry, dear, to beg my pardon."

  "Of that you may be quite sure," cried Faith across the corner of themeadow where the paths diverged; "I never was less in a passion in mylife; and it will be your place to apologise."

  Dolly sent a merry laugh across the widening interval; and Faith, whowas just beginning to fear that she had been in a passion, wasconvinced by that laugh that she had not. But the weight lifted from herconscience fell more heavily upon her heart.