Clara Vaughan, Volume 2 (of 3)

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER V.

  When Isola came on the Thursday, and I obtained some little glimpse ofher, she expressed her joy in a thousand natural ways, well worthfeeling and seeing, not at all worth telling. I loved her for them moreand more. I never met a girl so warm of heart. Many women can sulk fordays; most women can sulk for an hour; I believe that no provocationcould have made Isola sulky for two minutes. She tried sometimes (atleast she said so), but it was no good.

  And yet she felt as keenly as any of the very sulkiest women can do; butshe had too much warmth of heart and imagination to live in the folds ofthat cold-blooded snake. Neither had she the strong selfishness, onwhich that serpent feeds.

  In the afternoon, as we still sat together, in rushed Mrs. Shelfer withher bonnet on, quite out of breath, and without her usual ceremony ofknocking at the door. I could not think where she had been all the day;and she had made the greatest mystery of it in the morning, and wantedto have it noticed. Up she ran to me now, and pushed Isola out of theway.

  "Got 'em at last, Miss. Got 'em at last, and no mistake. No more Dr.Franks, nor bandages, nor curtains down, nor nothing. Save a deal oftrouble and do it in no time. But what a job I had to get them to besure; if the cook's mate hadn't knowed Charley, they would not have letme had 'em, after going all the way to Wapping." She holds up somethingin triumph.

  "What is it, Mrs. Shelfer? I am sorry to say I cannot see."

  "And right down glad of it, I am, my good friend. Yes, yes. Or I shouldhave had all my journey for nothing. But Miss Idols knows, I'll bebound she does, or it's no good going to College."

  "Let me look at it first," says Isola, "we learn almost everything atcollege, Mrs. Shelfer; but even we senior sophists don't know everything without seeing it yet."

  "Then put your pretty eyes on them, Miss Idols; I'll be bound it willmake them caper. I never see such fine ones, nor the cook's mateeither. Why they're as big as young whelks."

  "Mollusca, or Crustacea, or something!" exclaims Isola, with more pridethan accuracy, "what queer little things. I must take them to my papa."

  "Now, young ladies," cried Mrs. Shelfer in her grandest style, "I see Imust explain them to you after all. Them's the blessed shells the poorsailors put in their eyes to scour them out, and keep them bright, andmake them see in the dark against the wind. Only see how they crawls.There now, Miss Valence, I'll pick you out two big lively fellows, andpop one for you in the corner of each eye; the cook's mate showed me howto lift your eyelids."

  "How kind of him, to be sure!'

  "And it will crawl about under the lid, you must not mind its hurting abit; and it won't come out till to-morrow when the clock strikes twelve,and then it will have eaten up every bit, and your eyes will be brighterthan diamonds. Charley has seen them do it ever so many times, and hesays it's bootiful, and they don't mind giving five shillings a piecefor them, when they are scarce."

  "Did Mr. Shelfer ever try them? His eyes are so sharp: perhaps that isthe reason."

  "No. I never heard that he did, Miss. But bless you he never tells mehalf he does; no, nor a quarter of half." At this recollection, shefetches a little short sigh, her nearest approach to melancholy, for sheis not sentimental. "Care killed the cat," is her favourite aphorism.

  "Then when he comes home, Mrs. Shelfer, pop one of these shells, a goodbig one, into each of his eyes; and let us know the effect to-morrowmorning, and I'll give you a kiss, if you do it well."

  This is the bribe Isola finds most potent with everybody.

  "Lor, Miss Idols, bless your innocent heart, do you suppose he would letme? Why he thinks it a great thing to let me tie his shoe, and he won'tonly when he has had a good dinner."

  "Well," cries Isola, "I am astonished! Catch me tying my husband'sshoes! I shall expect him to tie mine, I know; and he shall only dothat when he is very good."

  With a regal air, she puts out the prettiest foot ever seen. Mrs.Shelfer laughs.

  "Lor, Miss, it's all very well for girls to talk; and they all does it,till they knows better. Though for the likes of you, any one would doanything a most. Pray, Miss Idols, if I may make so bold, how manyoffers of marriage have you received?"

  "Let me think! Oh I know! it's one more than I am years old. Eighteenaltogether, Mrs. Shelfer; if you count the apothecary's boy, and thenephew of the library; but then they were all of them boys, papa'spupils and that, a deal too young for me. They were all going to die,when I refused them; but they are all alive so far, at any rate. Isn'tit too bad of them?"

  "Well, Miss Idols, if you get as good a husband as you deserve, and thatis saying a deal, he'll tie your shoe may be for a month, and then he'lllook for you to tie his."

  "And long he may look, even if he has shellfish in his eyes. Why look,Mrs. Shelfer, they're all crawling about!"

  "Bootiful, isn't it? Bootiful! I wish Miss Valence could see them.And look at the horns they goes routing about with! How they musttickle your eyelids. And what coorious eyes they has! Ah, I oftenthink, Miss Idols, I likes this sort of thing so much, what a pity it isas I wasn't born in the country. I should never be tired of watchingthe snails, and the earywigs, and the tadpoles. Why, I likes nothingbetter than to see them stump-legged things come to table in thecabbage. I have not seen one now for ever so long. Oh that Charley,what dreadful lies he do tell!"

  "What about, Mrs. Shelfer?"

  "Why, my good friend, he says them green things with stripes on, andever so many legs, turns to live butterflies, after they be dead. But Iwas too many for him there. Yes, yes. The last one as I boiled, I didnot say a word about it to him, but I put it by in a chiney-teacup, withthe saucer over, in case it should fly away. Bless your heart, youngladies, there it is now, as quiet as anything, and no signs of abutterfly. And when he tells me any lies, about where he was last night,I just goes to the cupboard, and shows him that; and never another wordcan he say. And so, Miss Valence, you won't try these little snails,after my journey and all!"

  "Of course I won't, Mrs. Shelfer. But I am sincerely obliged to you foryour trouble, as well as for all your kind nursing, which I can neverforget. Now let me buy those shellfish from you, and Miss Isola willtake them as a present to her papa."

  "No, no, unless he will put them in his eyes, Miss. I won't have themwasted. Charley will sell them again in no time. He knows lots ofsailors. Most likely he'll get up a raffle for them, and win themhimself."

  Away she hurries to take off the bonnet she has been so proud of, forthe last two and twenty years. Though I declined the services of theophthalmist snails, my sight returned very rapidly. How delicious itwas to see more and more every day! Plenty of cold water was thepresent regimen. Vision is less a vision, every time I use it. In aweek more, I can see quite well, though obliged to wear a shade.

  One morning, dear Isola runs upstairs, out of breath as usual; but, whatis most unusual, actually frowning. Has Cora tyrannised, or what?Through the very shade of her frown, comes her sunny smile, as shekisses me.

  "Oh, I am so vexed. I have brought him to the door; and now he won'tcome in!"

  "Who, my darling?"

  "Why, Conny, to be sure. My brother Conrad. I had set my heart onshowing him to you, directly you could see."

  "Why won't he come in?"

  "Because he thinks that you ought not to see strangers, until you arequite well. He has not got to the corner yet. I can run like a deer.Send word by me, that you are dying to see him."

  "Not quite that. But say how glad I shall be."

  "I'll say that you won't get well till you do."

  "Say what you like. He will know it's only your nonsense."

  Off she darts; she is quick as light in her movements, and soon returnswith her brother.

  I lift my weak eyes to his bright ones, and recognise at once thepreserver of my mother and myself. But I see, in a moment, that he hasnot the faintest remembrance of me. My whole face is altered by myaccident,
and even my voice affected by the long confinement. When hemet me in the wood, he seemed very anxious not to look at me; when hesaved my life from the rushing mountain, he had little opportunity.Very likely he would not have known me, under another name; even withoutthis illness. So let it be. I will not reveal myself. I thanked himonce, and he repulsed me; no doubt he had a reason, for I see that he isa gentleman. Let that reason hold good: I will not trespass on it.

  He took my hand with a smile, the counterpart of Isola's. He had heardof me so constantly, that I must excuse the liberty. A dear friend ofhis sister's could be no stranger to him. A thrill shot through me atthe touch of his hand, and my eyes were weak. He saw it, and placed achair for me further from the light. On his own face, not the sun, forthe "drawing-room" windows look north, but the strong reflection of thenoon-day light was falling.

  How like he is to Isola, and yet how different! So much stronger, andbolder, and more decided, so tall and firm of step. His countenanceopen as the noon, incapable of concealment; yet if he be the same (and,how can I doubt it?), then at least there seemed to be some mysteryabout him.

  Isola, with the quickness of a girl, saw how intently I observed him,and could not hide her delight.

  "There now, Clara dear, I knew you would like him. But you must not lookat him so much, or your poor eyes will be sore."

  Little stupid! As I felt my pale cheeks colouring, I could almost havebeen angry, even with my Isola. But she meant no harm. In spite oflectures and "college," she was gentle nature personified; and noProfessors could make anything else of her. All these things run in thegrain. If there is anything I hate, I am sure I hate affectation. Butthere is a difference between us.

  Probably it is this: I am of pure English blood, and she is not. That Iknow by instinct. What blood she is of, I am sure I cannot tell.Gentle blood at any rate, or I could not have loved her so. Howhorribly narrow-minded, after all my objectivity! Well, what I mean is,that I can like and love many people who are not of gentle, but (Isuppose) of ferocious blood; still, as a general rule, culture andelegance are better matches for nature, after some generations oftraining. My father used to say so about his pointers and setters. Themarvel is that I, who belong to this old streak, seem to have got sometwist in it. My grandmother would have swooned at the names of somepeople I love more than I could have loved her. My mother would not.But then she was a Christian. Probably that is the secret of my twist.

  All this has passed through my mind, before I can frown at Isola. Andnow I cannot frown at all. Dear little thing, she is not eighteen, andshe knows no better. I have attained that Englishwoman's majority threeweeks ago; and I am sorry for Isola.

  To break the awkwardness, her brother starts off into subjects of art.He has heard of my drawings, may he see them some day? I ask him aboutthe magnificent stag. Yes, that is his, and I have no idea how long ittook him to do. He speaks of it with no conceit whatever; neither withany depreciation, for the purpose of tempting praise. As he speaks, Iobserve some peculiarity in his accent. Isola's accent is as pure asmine, or purer. Her brother speaks very good English, and neverhesitates for a word; but the form of his sentences often is notEnglish; especially when he warms to his subject; and (what struck mefirst, for I am no purist as to collocation of words) his accent, hisemphasis is not native. The difference is very slight, and quiteindescribable; but a difference there is. Perhaps it is rather adifference of the order of thought than of language, as regards the castof the sentence; but that will not account for the accent; and if itwould, it still shows another nationality.

  There is a loud knock at the door. I am just preparing (with Isola'shelp) my little hospitalities. If London visits mean much talk and nofood, I hold by Gloucestershire and Devon. I have a famous North Devonham, and am proud of its fame. Surely no more visitors for me.

  No; but one for Mrs. Shelfer. The Professor has heard of the eyeshells;and what politeness, humanity, love of his daughter failed to do,science has effected. He is come to see and secure them. His childrenhear his voice. Of course, we must ask him to come up. Mr. Conradrises. Isola runs to fetch her father. Isola loves everybody. I dobelieve she loves old Cora. Conrad is of sterner stuff: but surely heloves his father. As for me--we were just getting on so well--I wantedno Professor. Isola's brother will not tell a lie. He does notremember, all at once, any pressing engagement. He holds out his hand,saying simply,

  "Miss Valence, I heartily beg your pardon for leaving so suddenly; andjust when we were giving you so much trouble. It would be impertinencefor me to tell you the reason. It is a domestic matter. I trust youwill believe me, that no light reason would make me rude. May I comeagain with Isola, to see your drawings soon?"

  He meets the Professor on the stairs. The latter enters the room, underevil auspices for my good opinion.