Clara Vaughan, Volume 2 (of 3)
Page 21
CHAPTER I.
Before that week was over, my uncle could sit up in bed for a short timeevery day, being duly propped in a downy nest of pillows. One arm,however, remained quite impotent, and part of one side rigid and numb.His recovery was slow and tedious, as might well be expected with onewho had been dragged not from the jaws but the very throat of death.For a long time also his mind was feeble and dim, a mirror overcast bythe vapours of the body.
To me, who am fond of observing, in my own little childish way, it wasinteresting as well as delightful to note how, day by day, the mind andbody, hand in hand, rose stronger. More than all was I taught, andhumbled in my own conceit, by taking heed how tardily came back thepower to guide and control the imagination. That object-glass of themind--not achromatic even in first-rate intellects--had long been out ofthe focal distance from the lens of reason's eye. Upon it had beenglancing loose distorted images, rendered home imperfectly, if at all,to the retina of the brain. Herein its state was the very opposite tothat of my own phrenoscope. I have no large imagination; but the imagesit presents are vivid, and I see well round them. Every one of them isnot cast, but cut, on my sensorium. Whether I can strike them off inwords--whether my telegraph can print its message--is quite anotherquestion, and beside its purpose. Having rendered home to me the idols(oftentimes inverted, though distinct) it leaves expression and judgmentto do their best with the copyright.
Now, both in fabric and in mould, my uncle's mind was different.Naturally his powers were far superior, but he seemed to take no pridein them. No dark and settled purpose had ever thrown its shadow, andeven its weight, upon them; nor had they felt, so far as I knew, therough grasp of adversity. Therefore they were longer in recovering fromthe blow, than I think my own would have been.
There were few things, among the many desired by Mrs. Daldy, which shefailed to reconcile with her strong sense of religion. "There is notone"--I have heard her say--"not one of the things we believe to be forour good, which we should scruple to lay before the Throne of Grace.Even the throbbings of that little unregenerate heart"--Clara Vaughan'sto wit, who had kicked her that morning, quite by accident ofcourse--"even they are known and sifted there"--slight confusion ofmetaphor caused by strong conviction of sin--"Infinite mercy knows thethings that be for our edification, and confirmation in the faith. Yes,backsliding sinner, the want of real heart-felt spiritual life can besupplied by prayer alone. Is it not so in your experience, Elder?""Prayer, my dear Madam, and searching of the heart. Oh the depth of thewickedness of the unconverted heart!" And he took another glass ofsherry. That night I remember she worked very hard, for her; and thenext day she presented me with markers the size of a gallows, proggedwith many holes; on one was done in cross-stitch, "Pray withoutceasing," and upon the other "Wrestle thou in prayer. Gen. xxxii. 24."Both of these I threw into the fire there before her eyes.
From this it will be clear, that in her devotions she still rememberedme, and doubtless prayed in good Scriptural phraseology for my releasefrom this wicked world. Dr. Churchyard's last report had raised herterror to the highest pitch, and instead of wrestling in prayer, she hadrun away in high panic, upon hearing that the fever-nurse was seen atlarge the night before. "We must use the means of grace," she said toMrs. Fletcher, before she locked her in, "and accept the merciesvouchsafed to us. And it would be sinful, dear Mrs. Fletcher, in me toneglect such a warning as this."
It was wise, as well as righteous, in her to keep aloof for a time,while her devices worked their consummation. For the present it appearedto me that they were failing signally. My uncle was regaining strengthof mind and body; while native air, a sense of triumph, and dailyexercise, kept me in blooming health. My patient, who otherwise couldhardly bear me to leave him for an hour, insisted upon my taking a longride every day. Lilla was charmed, and so was I, with the sweet springair, and the rich familiar scenery. And how it did make me eat!Thankful indeed I ought to be, and am, that it pleased God to spare methat awful and deadly pestilence. But the worst injury done by cantinghypocrites is, that the repulsion they create drives away others fromgood. Truly I may say, that for days after being in contact with thatslimy sanctity, I could not say my own prayers, as a little child shoulddo.
Of that fever there had been three fatal cases in the village, before itentered our house; and I found that it was spreading rapidly. With myuncle's authority, I had the drainage surveyed and amended at once; andso the pest was stayed. Of course we did not neglect our own weakpoint; and the crawling noisome smell was no longer perceived in theroom, nor the white vapour on the grass.
And so three weeks went by; no news from London or Devonshire, noexplanation between my uncle and myself, no arrangements as to myexpectations in life. As yet my uncle was too weak to bear any sort ofexcitement, and seemed desirous only to be passive in my hands. Hiseyes always followed me to every part of the room, and he would even bepropped on the sofa to see me ride down the avenue; and there I alwaysfound him watching for my return. Meanwhile I yearned to be once morein a certain little room with a north aspect, opposite a cheesemonger'sshop in an obscure street of London. Nightly I dreamed of Giudice, anddaily I dreamed of dear Isola and Conrad. The dog in the stableyard,who had hitherto owned no especial attractions for me, suddenly foundhimself petted, and coaxed, and fed (which he thought much more of) tothe scandal of Mrs. Fletcher, and the great alarm of the grooms, whowould rather not have me there. Moreover, the dog himself, though Istrove to invest him with every chivalrous attribute, was of a low andungenial order, adorned with no graces of mind, and little taste, exceptfor bones and gravy. But perhaps my standard was too high: peradventureI even commenced with more prejudice than a bulldog's. Be that as itmay--and if I can see round things, I ought to see round myself--everyday fell heavier and heavier from the fair balance of time; and everynight the stars--for there was now no moon--looked wearier in theheavens, and less inclined for business. How long, how long shall yougo round the pole in your steady pacing way, as if the sky were forauction, and you were pacing the lots; while I, with more fire in methan you can strike or steal, am ditched like a glow-worm kicked under adock-leaf, and see no polestar at all?
Here is May, the height of May: I am full of life and spirit: the garbof death, like an April cloud, blows over. Let me see. Last birthday Iwas eighteen: I have known more troubles than years, and enjoyed noyouth as yet. Last year I spent in growing, and pining, and starving.Now the Power, that balances earth and heaven, has filled me with joyand light.
Neither am I renegade to my life, in opening wide my heart to this floodof love and happiness. Still am I set upon one strong purpose. Stillam I sworn, and will not repent, that if filial duty demand it, I willtrample love under my feet, and cut the throat of happiness.
During most of this time, I had no idea where the queen of hypocriteswas; though doubtless she knew all that was happening to us. As soon ashe heard of my uncle's surprising rally, Dr. Churchyard came over, andclaimed all the merit for his own last prescription. Brought face toface with the awkward fact that the medicine had not been procured, hewas not in the least disconcerted, but found that we had misunderstoodhim, the prescription to which he referred was the one before the last.At any rate, he enhanced his own fame immensely, and became"instrumental under Providence" in killing more people than ever. Inreply to Mrs. Fletcher, for I would not deign to ask him, he stated thatthe excellent and devoted Mrs. Daldy had not been seen lately inCheltenham. Her son, however, was there, and foremost in the ranks ofPump-room Lady-killers. Just what he was fit for.
The doctor entertained a belief, and spread the report in Cheltenham,that Dorcas was lodged in a humble cot among the haunts of pestilence,imperilling her life and lavishing her substance to relieve thefever-stricken. This being more than I could stand, I asked the worthydoctor--who, after all, was a man of the world--what three wealthypersons Dorcas had carried with her. At first he feigned not tounderstand me, the
n looked sly, and changed the subject cleverly. Ofcourse I referred to the well-known fact, that she supported hergrandeur and her son's extravagance by playing an admirable rubber. Shewas playing a better one now.
Dr. Churchyard finished by writing another prescription, which, afterhis departure, I handed to the husband of Venus, legitimate disposer ofmineral medicines.