The Pillars of the House; Or, Under Wode, Under Rode, Vol. 2 (of 2)

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XXX.

  THE SCULPTOR.

  'Her heart, her life, her future, Her genius, only meant Another thing to give him, And be therewith content.' _A. A. Proctor._

  By the time Felix could obey Marilda's missive, and entered Cherry'ssitting-room, she had come to such a state of mind, that not even hispale, fixed, mournful face was needed to make her lie back in herchair, gazing piteously up at him, murmuring, 'O Felix, what can it be?What has become of him?'

  'Marilda has heard from him,' said Felix, kneeling down by her, andholding her hands.

  'Heard! Oh, why did she not tell me?'

  'She feared to pain you. My poor Cherry, nothing has happened tohim; but his debts have come to a crisis, and he is gone off to theContinent. That good fellow, Fernan, is gone after him, to see what canbe done for him.'

  'And he wrote to _Marilda?_' asked Cherry, greatly bewildered.

  'Yes; from Ostend.'

  'He wrote to her! Did you see the letter?'

  'No, she had made away with it. She was so shy and short about it,that, Cherry, I suspect that distress had brought poor Edgar, as a lastresource, to try whether she would accept him.'

  'Oh!' cried Cherry, starting forward with conviction, 'that wouldaccount for it all!' And she told of all that had passed aboutBrynhild, now ten days ago--Edgar's despair, Marilda's readyassistance, and the manner of acknowledging it; and both agreedthat there was strong presumption that he had taken her kindness asencouragement to venture on a proposal. This would fully account forher silence and ill humour; and the delusion, perfectly unsuspectedby her, was the best possible auxiliary in guarding her secret, bypreventing the brother and sister from pushing her hard with inquiries,and sufficiently explaining whatever was mysterious. Indeed, if Edgarhad had the face to make the proposal, there was some grace in theshame that had caused his disappearance; and luckily for Marilda,Cherry was far too modest and shame-faced to allude to her ownsuspicions. She only longed exceedingly for home, and yet could notbear to leave the readiest place for receiving intelligence.

  Felix could not of course rest without doing his part towardsinquiring, and went off to Edgar's lodgings, and also in quest of theNational Minstrelsy people, whom Lance had assured him to be the mostlikely to give him information. He came back depressed and jaded, andwent straight to his sister's room. She could see in a moment that hehad found out nothing.

  'Nothing! The National Minstrelsy shut up a month ago. Allen and hisfamily had left their lodgings, and given no address. I tried thepost-office, but they grinned at me, and said many gentlemen cameinquiring. I went to two or three music-shops, and asked after him andafter the Hungarians, but with no better success; no one knew anythingabout them. Then I found my way to his lodgings.'

  'Ah! I wanted so much to have called there, but Marilda would not letme.'

  'As well you did not. Did you know that he had his rooms inpartnership?'

  'No--never!'

  'Nor heard him speak of a man--an artist, named Malone?'

  'Yes. I have heard of him. He has got two pictures in the BritishInstitution. Poor Edgar wanted me to admire them, but I couldn't;they are Scripture subjects--Ruth and Rachel--made coarse and vulgarby being treated with vile reality--looking like Jewish women out offruit-shops. He always said Tony Malone was the best fellow in theworld, but he never told me he lived with him.'

  'I was quite taken by surprise. The poor little miserable looking maidsaid Mr. Underwood had not been there for ten days; and when I saidI was his brother and wanted to ask some questions, she fetched hermistress, who said he had paid up just before he went away, but thathe had given no notice, so there was this ten days. Of course this wasreasonable; besides, I wanted to bring home his things; so she tookme up to his rooms while she went to make out his bill, and I thoughtentirely that I had come wrong, for I found myself in such a den asyou can hardly conceive--light enough of course, but with the mostwonderful medley of things imaginable, and in the midst a table withbreakfast, and a brandy bottle; a great brawny sailor, half stripped,lying on the floor, a model for Samson, or Hercules, or somebody; andthis man with a palette on his thumb, a tremendous red beard, and blackelf locks sticking out all manner of ways. And that was the place hewanted to take Lance to!'

  'He wouldn't have let it get bad if Lance had been with him. Besides,you old bachelor, don't you know that an artist must live in a mess andhave models?'

  'Of course, I know that, Cherry. I did not expect things to be whatyour friend Renville makes them for his young ladies; but the odour ofspirits, the whole air and aspect of the place, had something that gaveme a sense of hopelessness and dissipation, when I found that thosereally were Edgar's quarters, and that he had concealed his sharingthem with this Malone ever since he left Renville. The man behavedvery well to me, I will say that for him, as soon as we had made eachother out, and seemed very fond and rather proud of Tom, as he chose tocall Edgar; but he is a prodigious talker, and a rough coarse kind offellow, exactly what I couldn't have fancied Edgar putting up with.'

  'I dare say it was out of good nature.'

  'Half of it, no doubt; indeed, he gave me to understand as much. Edgarcan't but be kind wherever he goes; even that wretched little slaveycried when I gave her a shilling for helping his things into a cab, andshe found he was never coming back! I should think he had spoken theonly kind words she had ever heard in her life.'

  'But this man must have told you something! Had he no notion where heis gone?'

  'None at all! He knew thus much, that Edgar came into his room aboutten o'clock in the morning--he couldn't tell what day, but we made itout it must have been on Thursday the 3rd--'

  'The day after we went to Sydenham. Well!'

  '--Looking pale and scared, and saying, "I'm done for, old fellow--I'moff!" That is all he is clear of, for he was just waked and fast asleepagain directly.'

  'At ten o'clock in the morning!'

  'Well, Cherry, I'm afraid there had been a carouse the night before.Edgar had sold his picture, you see, and had cleared off old scores--afew of them, at least. He was restless--Malone said in and out--all theday before; he could not make him out. I fancy he had sent his letterto Marilda, and was awaiting a reply, which she must have sent, or hehave called for, early the next morning; and after holding off allday from the jollification in honour of the sale of his picture, anddeputing Malone and his other friends to hold it without him, he joinedthem at the theatre towards ten o'clock, and went to a cider cellarwith them afterwards, where I should gather that he was in a state ofreckless merriment, but quite sober--yes, Malone eagerly assured me ofthat, as if that were a merit to be proud of in my father's son! Well,poor fellow!' added Felix, his bitter tone changing to sorrow, 'heseems only to have thrown himself down on his bed without undressing;but Malone, who made no secret of having been "screwed" himself, onlyknew of his looking in in the morning. He had driven up, it seems, ina cab, which he kept waiting--not ten minutes, the landlady says--andhe carried off his violin case and about as many clothes, I shouldimagine, as he could stuff into his portmanteau in the time--not by anymeans all; but one thing at least you will be glad to hear of, Cherry,the photograph of my father! Yes, I am quite certain of it; for whenMalone was helping me to collect the other little matters out of hislittle hole of a bed-room, he said, when we came to the mantel-piece,"Yes, that's the only thing he has taken--the photo that stood there;a parson far gone in decline, the very moral of himself--your father,wasn't it?"'

  'At least that is a comfort! Poor Edgar, I am sure he will soon write,even if Ferdinand misses him. You have brought his things?'

  'Only his clothes, his sketches, and a book or two. His jewellery--heused to have a good deal, I think.'

  'Never so much as Fernan, but in better taste.'

  'That was gone. I thought it right to take an inventory of what I tookaway, and get it attested by the landlady and Malone; and I left itwith them, in case the credit
ors should think I had taken anything ofvalue.'

  'The creditors, ah!'

  'Yes. I have brought a carpet-bag stuffed choke full of bills, as heavyas I could carry, though of course many are the same over again. Timeenough to look them over at home.'

  'And paying?'

  'No. I am not liable for them.'

  'But, Felix, you cannot let his name be dishonoured!'

  'My dear Cherry, that is talk out of books. I have no right to giveaway what barely suffices for maintaining and educating the youngerones, for the luxury of satisfying these claims and clearing Edgar'sname. It would be robbing the innocent for the sake of the guilty.'

  'O Felix, how can you?'

  'Guilty at least of extravagance and recklessness, Cherry, though ina generous way. He had paid up, as I told you, for the lodging--allfor Malone as well as himself; and when the landlady brought up anexorbitant bill, charging my country innocence three months in advance,Malone fought her with such vehemence, that I never came in for such abattle royal, and was ready to cut and run, only to be quit of the pairof them; and after all she subsided, and was content and civil withonly a fortnight in advance!'

  'I think a great deal must have been the fault of those musical people.I know Edgar risked some of Mr. Underwood's money with them.'

  'All, I believe, that he did not owe, or was not forced to payimmediately, and that was a regular smash; but I do not think he wasliable for any of their debts. These looked to me more like personalluxuries.'

  'Well, Felix, if you will not pay them, I will, as I can, and when Ican.'

  'Do not say I _will_ not, Cherry, but ask yourself whether I oughteither to incur a debt myself, to trench on the capital of thebusiness, or take home the children from school. You know, for we havetried, that stinting more than we do already becomes privation; suchas, though we elder ones might willingly endure it for our feelings'sake, exacerbates the younger ones, and really would be unjust towardsthem.'

  Cherry hung her head, with tears in her eyes. 'And is that just to thecreditors?' she said.

  'Well, Cherry, I cannot say I have much pity for the tradesmen whotrust such a young gentleman as Edgar. If it be their system, dependupon it, they have means of compensation. Cherie, sweet, indeed I amnot hard-hearted, I would cut off my right hand to bring that dearboy back a free man. When we hear from him--and I have looked overthose miserable bills--I may find some means of compounding withthe creditors; but I cannot despoil Angel and Bernard and Stella ofeducation or comfort for what he has done.'

  'But I can--I will--I may,' cried Cherry, with excitement; 'I shall beable to do it all; Mr. Renville said I might make L300 a year, and thatwould soon do it! You will not hinder me, Felix?'

  'No,' he said, kissing her; 'it's not the way in which your earningsought to go, my Cherry; but you are quite free, and it will make youhappier, I know.'

  'And you will not let Marilda help?'

  'No, not if it can be helped without wounding her too much. You see sheis taking her own measures through Travis.'

  'I could not endure her doing it,' said Cherry, glowing with a sort ofpride. 'And I am the one who ought. My drawing would have been worthjust nothing at all but for him; and all this success is through him,and it is so cruel he can't have it, when it signifies so much more.'

  'So Sir Bors always thinks,' said Felix, fondling her; but true to hisown faith, he continued, 'But Edgar is not past the age for successyet. Only three-and-twenty, remember, and this grievous lesson maybe just the making of him. We know he has a warm heart and plenty ofpower; and though we must make up our minds not to see him for a goodwhile, he will come home from Italy some day a made man.'

  'Oh yes, his sketch of Brynhild showed that he could do anything. Doyou know, I think that having such a companion as that Mr. Malonealmost accounts for his having gone wrong. If he can only fall in withsome real nice companions! If he would board at Munich with some familylike the dear Frau Renville's. What a letter we will write to cheer thepoor dear fellow up!'

  Felix and Geraldine never failed one another in that cardinal articleof theirs, trust in Edgar's genius, and in the love that hoped allthings, believed all things, and endured all things from him--allthings personal, namely, for Felix never entirely overlooked the havingtried to tempt away Lance into the life of which one passing glimpsewas enough for his fastidious home-bred spirit, unable to appreciatethe fascination of freedom and unconventionality. Altogether they hadtalked themselves into hope and consolation that surprised Marilda,when, after waiting till her patience could endure no longer, sheknocked at the door, to ask whether Felix had discovered any clue bywhich Edgar could be traced.

  It was one of those requitals of generosity that are felt inadequatebecause the generosity is really unsuspected. Felix and Cherry _could_not be as unreserved with her as if they had felt her a sister and oneof themselves, and not as one whose bounty Edgar had abused. They didnot--nor was it in the nature of things that they could--understandthat Marilda's feelings towards him were as fraternal as their own,nay, had the force of exclusiveness, and the tenderness of protection;and so, though Felix replied to her inquiries, it was not with thedetail and confidence he had shown towards his sister; and the more shequestioned and remarked, the more they both felt inclined to shrinkinto themselves. In fact, they knew so little worse of him than before,that after the ten days' agony there was a sort of reaction, withoutmuch visible weight on their spirits. Felix had business which made itneedful to stay another day; and as he was going out Cherry begged himto take charge of a small box containing a cast which Mr. Grinstead hadlent her to copy, and she did not like to entrust to any chance hand.

  'If you would send in your name,' she said, 'I think he would letyou see his studio, and I do so want you to see his figure of Mercyknocking at the wicket-gate.'

  'I thought he never did admit strangers.'

  'Oh! Geraldine is favoured,' said Mrs. Underwood, with a laugh. 'Dependupon it, anyone belonging to her will have the _entray_. But go, go byall means. They say his house is a perfect little bijou.--Isn't it,Geraldine? She went to a party there, you know, chaperoned by Mrs.Renville, and met Lord de Vigny.'

  Felix knew all about it, much better than did Mrs. Underwood--thatlittle select dinner of the _elite_ of the world of art and genius,to which Mr. Grinstead had asked Cherry about a fortnight ago, andwhich she had described with such delight. He had not much heart forstrangers and works of art at that moment, but he could not refuseCherry's commission, nor vex her by omitting to ask to see the studio;so there, in the course of the morning, he found himself, alone atfirst among the statues and casts--grave and graceful creations--morefrom the world of Christian than of classic poetry, and if lessaesthetically beautiful, more solemn and more real.

  He had gone in meaning only to fulfil his duty to Cherry, but he foundhimself attracted and enchained, and was standing before Cherry'sfavourite figure of Mercy, drinking in, as it were, the beseechingwistful spirit of faint hope that breathed from the whole figure, whena crimson curtain was lifted, and a gentleman of about five-and-fortyor fifty, but grey-haired and looking older, came with a soft treadtowards him.

  'Mr. Underwood, I believe.'

  Felix bowed.

  'I am very glad to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance.'

  'I am very much obliged for my admission. I should not have ventured,but that my sister was so anxious that I should see what she enjoys somuch.'

  Mr. Grinstead smiled, and quietly did the honours, while Felix--though,of course, untrained--modestly showed himself full enough of taste andintelligence to be worthy of an artist sister; Mr. Grinstead treatinghim all along like an honoured guest, and taking him farther into hisprivate rooms, to see some favourite old German paintings, and to offerluncheon.

  The house did indeed deserve Mrs. Underwood's term, fitted up withall that carved wood and well-chosen simple colour could do; and withwondrous gems of art--all the refinement and beauty that a bachelor,when he _does_ choose, can
bring together even better than a lady can.

  'How long shall you be in town?' had been an early question, answeredby, 'I take my sister home to-morrow;' and then, when it had struckFelix that his host was becoming increasingly thoughtful and absent,and he was trying to take leave, but was always prevented, Mr.Grinstead asked, 'Should I be likely to find your sister at home if Icalled this afternoon?'

  'Not early,' said Felix; 'I think she has some commissions to finish. Iam to meet her at five. I am afraid I must wish you good morning.'

  'A few minutes longer. Mr. Underwood, I must begin by making you aconfession, and asking you a question. Do you think there is any chancefor me with that sweet little sister of yours?'

  'With Geraldine!' Felix laid hold of the back of a chair, feeling as ifhis senses almost reeled, though whether consternation or exultationcame uppermost, he could not have told.

  'Yes,' was the reply. 'I am speaking abruptly, but I am taken bysurprise at finding that you intend so soon to take her away. Indeed, Ibelieve these are matters on which long consideration often ends in asudden plunge,' he added, smiling a little, as if he wondered a littleto find himself in a situation that seemed to reverse their ages;indeed, Felix was by far the most embarrassed.

  'I do not think she is at all prepared,' was all that occurred to himto throw into the gulf of silence.

  'Perhaps not,' said Mr. Grinstead, rather wistfully. 'I see youthink the notion a preposterous one,' he continued, with somethingunconsciously of the elder's tone towards inexperienced youth, thoughthere was pleading in it too; and he put a chair in his visitor's way,and speaking quietly though eagerly, as Felix tried to utter somepolite disclaimer: 'I see the disparity myself, though perhaps lessstrongly than you do. Forty-six does not feel itself so vast an ageas five-and-twenty may think it. The truth is this. I was made a foolof, as befalls most of us' (Felix looked more assenting than he knew,poor fellow!), 'and was hit harder than some, I believe. At any rate,the distaste it gave me was invincible, till I met with that wonderfulcompound of brightness and tenderness--spirit and sensitiveness--Icannot help it. She has haunted me ever since I first met her lastyear; and if there be nothing in the way on her side, I believe I couldmake her happy.'

  'There is nothing in the way,' repeated Felix, as an honest man, butwith a sense of a jewel being dragged from him, and relieved to havesomething to say that was not all consent. 'It is a very great honourfor our little Geraldine to be so thought of, but I think you should beaware that she has nothing of her own, and--poor child--is sadly frailand feeble in health.'

  'For that,' said Mr. Grinstead, 'I think you may trust her to my care;'and he spoke eagerly, as if longing to be taking care of her. 'Andthough I am a self-made man, I have had prosperity enough to be able tosecure a comfortable provision for her.'

  'Thank you--yes,' hastily said Felix. 'It was not that I was thinkingof.'

  'I see you are against me,' said the sculptor, perhaps anticipating theanswer that actually came--'Selfishly, sir; only selfishly. Geraldineis so much our life and light at home, that your--your proposal was ashock to me; but I see the very great advantage it would be to her, andI could not desire anything better for her.' There were tears in hiseyes, and the last words came with a choking utterance.

  'I see,' said Mr. Grinstead, 'that I am doing a hard thing by you, andthat to hold out the idea of her becoming even more to you sounds likemockery. Besides, I am too far from secure to begin to spare any pityfor you. Now tell me, can I see her this evening? Where are you to meether?'

  'I am afraid I cannot propose your joining us then,' said Felix, morecordially, 'for it is to be at the Baker Street Bazaar, about some verydomestic shopping; but I believe we shall come home between six andseven o'clock.'

  'Very well; you will find me there. You will use your own judgment asto preparing her.'

  Very domestic shopping indeed it was. The ancient coal-scuttle, aFroggatt legacy, had three decided holes in it, and Wilmet had a visionof one glimpsed in Baker Street. She would not trust either Felix orCherry to choose it separately, but conjointly she thought they mightcounterbalance one another, and combine taste, discretion, and economy;and they were both afraid of failing her.

  The very contrast of that commission, and the importance ascribed toit, with the ease and luxuriousness in Mr. Grinstead's house, servedto bring before Felix the sense of the promotion for Geraldine that hewas so ungratefully accepting. Little tender being, the first to witherunder the blight of penury, how could he grudge her the sunshine ofease and wealth, cherishing care, prosperity, beauty, society--all thatwas congenial to her? No, indeed--he rejoiced. Yet how rejoice--whenevery time he came in from his work, he felt it a fresh blank when hedid not meet her responsive look of welcome, or hear the half-quaint,half-pathetic tones that made much of the tiniest adventure of the day.His heart was sore enough at Edgar's evasion, and to lose Cherry fromhis hearth would quench its most cherished spark. He had been so secureof her, too. She had seemed so set apart from marriage, so peculiarlydependent on him, that it had been to her that he had turned with asort of certainty as his companion in the life of self-sacrifice thathe knew to lie before him. It was no small part of that sacrifice,that as he went to and fro on foot and by omnibus in the busy streets,he was schooling his spirit to look on the change not as desertion ofhimself, but as a brilliant and happy prospect for the little sister,who had powers and tastes such as ought not to be buried in the roomover the shop at Bexley. He must keep the regret well out of mind, orhe could never persuade her naturally, or avoid poisoning her happiness.

  Should he prepare her? That must be left to chance. And chance wasnot favourable, for when he had found his way into the pit at theBaker Street Bazaar, appropriated to ornamental ironmongery, hesaw her accompanied by Robina and Angela, whom Mrs. Underwood hadgood-naturedly sent for to spend her last afternoon with her. Therewas a sort of pang when Cherry's face greeted him, and her handnestled into its accustomed hold on his arm just where it had leantby preference these sixteen years; and as she said in her low playfultones, 'Is it not a curious study to see invention expended on makingan intrinsically hideous thing beautiful by force of japan, gilding,and painting? You see the only original design nature provided for acoal-scuttle is the nautilus shell, and unluckily that is grotesquelyinappropriate! Just look at the row of ungainly things craning outtheir chins like overdressed dwarfs. I am decidedly for the simplestand least disguised, though Robin is for the snail, and Angel, Ibelieve, for that highly suitable Watteau scene. Which do you vote for?'

  'The most likely to satisfy Wilmet,' said Felix absently, knowing heshould hate whichever it might be, and wondering who would ever againput so much interest into common things.

  'The scuttle of Mettie's dreams appears to be no more,' said Cherry;'but as Robin always seems to me guided by her spirit, I am inclined tothink it safest to go by her judgment.'

  'Robin represent Wilmet?' repeated Felix, scanning the plump, honest,sensible face, as that of his destined housewife; and not a badprospect either practically, though without the charms that speciallyendeared Cherry.

  She thought him absent, feared he had heard some fresh ill tidings ofEdgar, and though reassured on that head, lost the zest she had caughtup, and the selection was pretty well left to Robina.

  There was no opportunity of confidential talk; the children were withthem all the rest of the drive, and were to return with them to dinner;and that Angela was much shocked and subdued by the tidings of Edgar'sflight did not conduce to privacy, since it silenced the tongue thatgenerally sheltered any conversation! Nor could Felix succeed inhurrying his three ladies: they had a great deal still to do, and aweof Wilmet made them very particular in the doing of it, so that itwas not till perilously near dinner-time that he brought them home,and there, on a hurried excursion to the drawing-room to notify thearrival, was Mr. Grinstead discovered. He had called, avowedly to wishMiss Underwood good-bye; and the mistress of the house, with perhaps aninkling of the state of affairs,
had asked him to stay and dine. Shecould not help it, as she said, in excuse to her daughter, who alwayshated clever men, especially associated the sculptor with all themisery of the day of Alda's rupture with Ferdinand, and also wanted tohave had Felix to herself this evening.

  So she favoured the party with as little of her civility orconversation as possible; not that it was much missed, for Cherrywas perfectly unsuspecting, and expanded into wit and animation asusual; and Mr. Grinstead, to Felix's surprise, was not rendered eithersilent or _distrait_ by his suspense; and Felix himself had learntconversation as a mechanical art in his trade, and could do his part,with cares and anxieties packed away.

  After the ladies were gone, there only passed the words--

  'Can I speak to her?'

  'I will fetch her.'

  'You have not prepared her?'

  'I had not a moment.'

  'Better so, perhaps.'

  Felix led the way to her painting-room, having luckily delayed justlong enough not to encounter the two children fetching the purchasesfor a great display. From this discussion, so dear to the female heart,he snatched the unsuspicious Cherry, with the few brief words that Mr.Grinstead wished to speak to her in her sitting room.

  'An order! oh, it must be an order!' echoed among the sisters; andas Angela skipped up after them to fetch some further article to beshown off, there was no opportunity of even a hint except from Felix'sagitated face, and the unconsciously convulsive squeeze of the littlefingers between his arm and his side. He put her in a chair, andhurried off, disregarding the 'O Felix, are you going?' but shuttingthe door, and returning to the dining-room to keep a restless watch.

  It lasted--what must have been a shorter time than he expected,terribly long as it seemed. Mr. Grinstead came downstairs, and Felix'sheart bounded at the first footfall.

  The kind, far-seeing, thoughtful face did not betray much. He heldout his hand. 'Thank you, Mr. Underwood,' he said; 'I hope I did notdistress her much. I have only one entreaty to make to you. If youshould find that there is any allowance to be made for the surprise andshock, and newness of the idea, you will be a true friend, and not letpride or delicacy prevent you from letting me know.'

  'I will not,' said Felix, ready to promise anything to comfort a manwho had lost the Cherry he retained.

  'It is nonsense, though,' added the sculptor; 'she is much too sincereand transparent a creature to trifle with feelings. Those innocentthings are not to be won so late in life. Go up to her. She will wantyou. What a rival you are! I will make my excuses to the ladies.'

  Felix held out his hand, too sorry for him now to know what to say; andafter a strong grasp, they went their different ways.

  Felix found Geraldine cowering down in her chair, with her handsclasped together over her forehead. She looked up at him, as ifstartled by his entrance. 'O Felix, how could you?' broke from her.

  'My dear, I could not help it. Has it been so very distressing?'

  'Oh!' with a great gasp, 'I'm sure to refuse a man is the most horriblething in the world--except to accept him! And such a man too--so greatand good and kind. You shouldn't have let him do it, Felix.'

  'Don't scold me, Cherry; how was I to know you would not like it?'

  'Felix! an old man like that!'

  'Well, that's decisive,' said Felix, laughing at the tone; 'but,indeed, I did think you admired him very much.'

  'So I do--but not in that way--not so as to bear to see him lowerhimself--and--and have to grieve him--' and the tears started from hereyes. 'But you know, he only could have done it because he saw a poorlittle lame thing and wanted to take care of her.'

  'I think it goes a good deal deeper than that, Cherry.'

  'I'm very sorry,' said Cherry. 'How very disagreeable it is that suchthings will happen; I thought, at any rate, that I was safe from them;and he was such an old man, and such a kind friend, that I was so proudof; and now I have vexed him so--and it is all over.'

  'Do you really regret it? are you sure you did not speak only in thefirst surprise?'

  'Felix! you! you to be against me!'

  'Not against you, Cherie.'

  She interrupted with a cry of pain. 'Oh! don't let anybody call me thattill Edgar comes home again!'

  'My poor Cherry!'

  Then there was a silence; her head was on his shoulder, and she wascrying silently, but so profusely that he could not tell whether hertears were all for Edgar or for new feelings stirred in her heart.

  'Cherry dear, don't you think we ought to look at it reasonably? If youdo not feel as if you cared for him--like a novel--yet still--'

  'Hush, Felix! he is much too good to be accepted any other way.'

  'I am not sure that he thinks so.'

  'I do, then!' said Cherry, raising her head up indignantly. 'I shouldbe ashamed to marry any man without! A lame, sickly, fretful thing likeme ought to bring real love at least, to make up to a man for beingbothered with her. Come, Felix, have done talking sensible nonsense! Iknow you don't wish it, so don't pretend.'

  'I am making no pretence. It would be a dreadful business for me; butall the more I think I ought to make you consider.'

  'Consider! Oh! I'll consider fast enough; that beautiful drawing-room,with the statues, and the conservatory--and a carriage--and going toItaly! Do you think I am going to be bribed by things like that?'

  'No; but to have one so fatherly, kind, and tender--'

  'As if one wanted one's husband to be fatherly!'

  '--And the safe position--'

  'I declare you are talking just like Alda!'

  'But if you don't like him, there's an end of it.'

  'I like him, I tell you; but not so much as the tip of your littlefinger!'

  'Perhaps not, now; but--'

  'Felix! You don't want to get rid of me? I know you were right to arguewith Wilmet, and persuade her, because she had let her heart go, andonly was afraid to acknowledge it; but mine isn't gone, and couldn'tgo. If I had not learnt to work, and had not a work to do, I might tryto think of freeing you from a burthen; but now that I have, why shouldI upset it all, and wrench myself away from you? When I lean againstyou, I have got my home, and my rest, and all I want here. I never goaway from you but I feel that I _do_ want you so; and when one feelsthat, what's the use of looking out for somebody else?'

  'Dear little Sweetheart! Yes!' as she lay contentedly against him, withhis arm round her; 'it only makes me tremble, that you should give up ahome like that, and risk so much upon my one life. The other boys loveyou dearly, but they are more likely to make ties for themselves! andif--'

  'I should love you better dead than any other man alive!' criedCherry impetuously. 'I won't do it, Felix! so spare your dutifulremonstrances! I do hate them so, and I know you don't mean them.'

  'Mean is not the word, Cherry. The more I hated making them, the more Ifelt bound to do so.'

  'There, then! You've done.'

  'Yes, I've done. My Cherry, my Cherry! you don't know how much lighterthe world seems to me than it did half an hour ago!'

  'O you foolish old Giant! And there come those irrepressible children!Oh! I hope and trust they have not found it out!' cried Cherry,bounding up from her sentimental attitude, as Angela was heardgalloping up the stairs.

  But there was this benefit in dealing with a veteran, that he knew howto keep his own counsel and other people's. Angela came dashing in.'Oh! here you both are! Mr. Grinstead said he had forgotten, afterall, to give you this letter. He said you had better write to the ladyherself. It is a capital order, he said--you've been settling about it,haven't you? What _are_ you going to do?'

  'I don't quite know, Angel,' said Cherry, seeing the letter wasaddressed in a strange hand to the sculptor; and thereupon venturingto open it, and finding it contained a request to obtain from MissUnderwood an engagement for a set of studies similar to those in theexhibition, if it were true that these were not for sale. It was from alady of wealth and taste, whose name was well known as a patroness inthe artist
world; and Cherry could quite understand that Mr. Grinsteadhad kept it back, with the feeling that were she his, no toil should behers for the future.

  That was little recommendation. Her first rise out of uselessness gaveher more exultation in its novelty than did even the exercise of herart or the evidence of its success. There was something exquisite inthe sense of power. She had made up her mind to give Wilmet quarterlythe same amount as was charged for Lance, to set aside just enoughbesides to clothe herself, and that the remainder of her earningsshould liquidate Edgar's debts; so that some day she should write tohim to come home a free and unburthened man. Viewed in this aspect,that huge carpet-bag, stuffed to bursting with bills, had not sofrightful an aspect, but rather seemed to her a dragon to be conqueredfor Edgar's sake; and Felix laughed at her for tendering him the chequefor her Acolyte, and asking him just to pay off a few of them beforeleaving town. He had to explain to her that equity and custom requiredthat no one should have the preference, and that she must wait till shecould either pay off the whole, or else make payments of so much in thepound.

  'Like a bankruptcy! That can't be worth while. Those are your businessways!'

  'I fear you little know what you have undertaken. Remember, there is nocall to pay any of it.'

  'Indeed! Oh! why does not that tiresome Ferdinand write?'

  'There has not been time.'

  'He could have telegraphed!'

  Marilda was likewise much disappointed at hearing nothing; butdiscussion was trying to her, and she dreaded her cousins' sharpeyes so much, that it was a relief to her to escape them. Nor couldthey linger, for Wilmet was anxious about Lance, who was exceedinglymiserable; and in his anxiety hardly knew what he was about, scarcelywhat he said.

  If Wilmet wished him to feel what a narrow escape his had been, hebroke into despair that he had not been with Edgar. The room andthe room-mate that had seemed so disgusting to home-bred Felix, hadfascinated him by their charming disregard of wearisome propriety, andtheir congenial eccentric liberty; and the picture of Edgar cominghome in his distress to his sleepy, half-conscious comrade madehim wretched. He treated regret like censure, and alarmed as muchas scandalised Wilmet by longings to have been there to share thewanderings, which, even if they amounted to starvation, could not, heaverred, be 'half so hateful as standing behind a counter.'

  Perhaps he had never before been so near showing temper as inhis arguments with Wilmet, and his determination to defend Edgarthrough thick and thin; and she was almost relieved when after thedisappointment of finding that there was no news from Ferdinand, hecollapsed into one of his attacks of headache. Nay, for weeks, thoughabout again and at work, the lad was not well nor thoroughly himself;he seemed, like Cherry, to be always watching for tidings that nevercame, and unlike her, he made light of whatever could be construed intocensure of any taste of Edgar's.

  Felix, though unwilling to pain him, thought it might be wholesome tolet him see for himself the facts of Edgar's life, and accepted hisassistance in sorting the bagful of revelations of self-indulgence anddissipation, which he knew Lance's lips might defend, but never hisconscience.

  Judging as well as they could by the dates and charges, there hadnot been much amiss except carelessness of expenditure before AliceKnevett's defection, eighteen months back; but this had been succeededby a launch into every sort of excitement, so increasingly painfuland disgraceful, that Felix declared at times that it was profanationto let the proceeds of Geraldine's pure and high-minded art be spentin discharging such obligations. There were traces of an endeavour topull up after Tom Underwood's legacy, which would have far more thancleared Edgar, if he had been satisfied to do more than merely pay'on account,' and stave off difficulties, until the main body of thebequest had vanished between gambling and the crash of the NationalMinstrelsy.

  Meantime the weeks of Edgar's silence and absence were running on tomonths, and nothing was known. Ferdinand Travis's quest had been anutter failure. Baden, Homburg, Spa, Munich, Paris, Florence, Rome,Monaco, had been searched in vain; ingenious advertisements in thesecond column of the 'Times' were unnoticed; and though there was nooutward difference in the manner of the two who loved him best, eachbore about a heavy yearning heartache and foreboding--the one, thatthere must be something, worse than was known, to lead so affectionatea person thus utterly to efface himself; the other, that some terribleunknown accident, lake-storm or glacier-crevasse, could alone accountfor such pitiless disregard of home suspense. His relics had beenhidden away like those of the dead, with sad reverence; and hisname was never mentioned except now and then in low sad tones in a_tete-a-tete._