by George Eliot
CHAPTER XXII.
Her gentle looks shot arrows, piercing him As gods are pierced, with poison of sweet pity.
The evening of the market-day had passed, and Felix had not looked in atMalthouse Yard to talk over the public events with Mr. Lyon. When Estherwas dressing the next morning, she had reached a point of irritatedanxiety to see Felix, at which she found herself devising little schemesfor attaining that end in some way that would be so elaborate as to seemperfectly natural. Her watch had a long-standing ailment of losing;possibly it wanted cleaning; Felix would tell her if it merely wantedregulating, whereas Mr. Prowd might detain it unnecessarily, and causeher useless inconvenience. Or could she not get a valuable hint fromMrs. Holt about the home-made bread, which was something as "sad" asLyddy herself? Or, if she came home that way at twelve o'clock, Felixmight be going out, she might meet him, and not be obliged to call.Or--but it would be very much beneath her to take any steps of thissort. Her watch had been losing for the last two months--why should itnot go on losing a little longer? She could think of no devices thatwere not so transparent as to be undignified. All the more undignifiedbecause Felix chose to live in a way that would prevent any one fromclassing him according to his education and mental refinement--"whichcertainly are very high," said Esther, inwardly, coloring, as if inanswer to some contrary allegation, "else I should not think his opinionof any consequence." But she came to the conclusion that she could notpossibly call at Mrs. Holt's.
It followed that, up to a few minutes past twelve, when she reached theturning toward Mrs. Holt's, she believed that she should go home theother way; but at the last moment there is always a reason not existingbefore--namely, the impossibility of further vacillation. Esther turnedthe corner without any visible pause, and in another minute was knockingat Mrs. Holt's door, not without an inward flutter, which she was benton disguising.
"It's never you, Miss Lyon! who'd have thought of seeing you at thistime? Is the minister ill? I thought he looked creechy. If you wanthelp, I'll put my bonnet on."
"Don't keep Miss Lyon at the door, mother; ask her to come in," said theringing voice of Felix, surmounting various small shufflings andbabbling voices within.
"It's my wish for her to come in, I'm sure," said Mrs. Holt, making way;"but what is there for her to come in to? a floor worse than any public.But step in, pray, if you're so inclined. When I've been forced to takemy bit of carpet up, and have benches, I don't see why I need mindnothing no more."
"I only came to ask Mr. Holt if he would look at my watch for me," saidEsther, entering, and blushing a general rose-color.
"He'll do that fast enough," said Mrs. Holt, with emphasis; "that's oneof the things he _will_ do."
"Excuse my rising, Miss Lyon," said Felix; "I'm binding up Job'sfinger."
Job was a small fellow about five, with a germinal nose, large roundblue eyes, and red hair that curled close to his head like the wool onthe back of an infantine lamb. He had evidently been crying, and thecorners of his mouth were still dolorous. Felix held him on his knee ashe bound and tied up very cleverly a tiny forefinger. There was a tablein front of Felix and against the window, covered with his watchmakingimplements and some open books. Two benches stood at right angles on thesanded floor, and six or seven boys of various ages up to twelve weregetting their caps and preparing to go home. They huddled themselvestogether and stood still when Esther entered. Felix could not look uptill he had finished his surgery, but he went on speaking.
"This is a hero, Miss Lyon. This is Job Tudge, a bold Briton whosefinger hurts him, but who doesn't mean to cry. Good-morning, boys. Don'tlose your time. Get out into the air."
Esther seated herself on the end of the bench near Felix, much relievedthat Job was the immediate object of attention and the other boysrushed out behind her with a brief chant of "Good-morning!"
"Did you ever see," said Mrs. Holt, standing to look on, "how wonderfulFelix is at that small work with his large fingers? And that's becausehe learned doctoring. It isn't for want of cleverness he looks like apoor man, Miss Lyon. I've left off speaking, else I should say it's asin and a shame."
FELIX HOLT AND JOB TUDGE.]
"Mother," said Felix, who often amused himself and kept good-humored bygiving his mother answers that were unintelligible to her, "you have anastonishing readiness in the Ciceronian antiphrasis, considering youhave never studied oratory. There, Job--thou patient man--sit still ifthou wilt; and now we can look at Miss Lyon."
Esther had taken off her watch and was holding it in her hand. But helooked at her face, or rather at her eyes, as he said, "You want me todoctor your watch?"
Esther's expression was appealing and timid, as it had never been beforein Felix's presence; but when she saw the perfect calmness, which to herseemed coldness, of his clear gray eyes, as if he saw no reason forattaching any emphasis to this first meeting, a pang swift as anelectric shock darted through her. She had been very foolish to think somuch of it. It seemed to her as if her inferiority to Felix made a gulfbetween them. She could not at once rally her pride and self-command,but let her glance fall on her watch, and said, rather tremulously, "Itloses. It is very troublesome. It has been losing a long while."
Felix took the watch from her hand; then, looking round and seeing thathis mother was gone out of the room, he said, very gently--
"You look distressed, Miss Lyon. I hope there is no trouble at home"(Felix was thinking of the minister's agitation on the previous Sunday)."But I ought perhaps to beg your pardon for saying so much."
Poor Esther was quite helpless. The mortification which had come like abruise to all the sensibilities that had been in keen activity, insistedon some relief. Her eyes filled instantly, and a great tear rolled downwhile she said in a loud sort of whisper, as involuntary as her tears--
"I wanted to tell you that I was not offended--that I am notungenerous--I thought you might think--but you have not thought of it."
Was there ever more awkward speaking?--or any behavior less like that ofthe graceful, self-possessed Miss Lyon, whose phrases were usually sowell turned, and whose repartees were so ready?
For a moment there was silence. Esther had her two littledelicately-gloved hands clasped on the table. The next moment she feltone hand of Felix covering them both and pressing them firmly; but hedid not speak. The tears were both on her cheeks now, and she could lookup at him. His eyes had an expression of sadness in them, quite new toher. Suddenly little Job, who had his mental exercises on the occasion,called out, impatiently--
"She's tut her finger!"
Felix and Esther laughed, and drew their hands away; and as Esther tookher handkerchief to wipe the tears from her cheeks she said--
"You see, Job, I am a naughty coward. I can't help crying when I've hurtmyself."
"Zoo soodn't kuy," said Job energetically, being much impressed with amoral doctrine which had come to him after a sufficient transgression ofit.
"Job is like me," said Felix, "fonder of preaching than of practice. Butlet us look at this same watch," he went on, opening and examining it."These little Geneva toys are cleverly constructed to go always a littlewrong. But if you wind them up and set them regularly every night, youmay know at least that it's not noon when the hand points there."
Felix chatted, that Esther might recover herself; but now Mrs. Holt cameback and apologized.
"You'll excuse my going away, I know, Miss Lyon. But there were thedumplings to see to, and what little I've got left on my hands now Ilike to do well. Not but what I've more cleaning to do than ever I hadin my life before, as you may tell soon enough if you look at thisfloor. But when you've been used to doing things, and they've been takenaway from you, it's as if your hands had been cut off, and you felt thefingers as are of no use to you."
"That's a great image, mother," said Felix, as he snapped the watchtogether and handed it to Esther; "I never heard you use such an imagebefore."
"Yes, I know you've always some fault to find with what your
mothersays. But if ever there was a woman could talk with the open Biblebefore her, and not be afraid, it's me. I never did tell stories, and Inever will--though I know it's done, Miss Lyon, and by church memberstoo, when they have candles to sell, as I could bring you to the proof.But I never was one of 'em, let Felix say what he will about theprinting on the tickets. His father believed it was gospel truth, andit's presumptuous to say it wasn't. For as for curing, how can anybodyknow? There's no physic'll cure without a blessing, and _with_ ablessing I know I've seen a mustard plaister work when there was no moresmell nor strength in the mustard than so much flour. And reasongood--for the mustard had lain in paper nobody knows how long--so I'llleave you to guess."
Mrs. Holt looked hard out of the window and gave a slight, inarticulatesound of scorn.
Felix had leaned back in his chair with a resigned smile, and waspinching Job's ears.
Esther said, "I think I had better go now," not knowing what else tosay, yet not wishing to go immediately, lest she should seem to berunning away from Mrs. Holt. She felt keenly how much endurance theremust be for Felix. And she had often been discontented with her father,and called him tiresome!
"Where does Job Tudge live?" she said, still sitting and looking at thedroll little figure, set off by a ragged jacket with a tail about twoinches deep sticking out above the funniest of corduroys.
"Job has two mansions," said Felix. "He lives here chiefly; but he hasanother home, where his grandfather, Mr. Tudge, the stone-breaker,lives. My mother is very good to Job, Miss Lyon. She has made him alittle bed in a cupboard, and she gives him sweetened porridge."
The exquisite goodness implied in these words of Felix impressed Estherthe more, because in her hearing his talk had usually been pungent anddenunciatory. Looking at Mrs. Holt, she saw that her eyes had lost theirbleak north-easterly expression, and were shining with some mildness onlittle Job, who had turned round toward her, propping his head againstFelix.
"Well, why shouldn't I be motherly to the child, Miss Lyon?" said Mrs.Holt, whose strong powers of argument required the file of an imaginedcontradiction, if there were no real one at hand. "I never washard-hearted, and I never will be. It was Felix picked the child up andtook to him, you may be sure, for there's nobody else master where heis; but I wasn't going to beat the orphan child and abuse him because ofthat, and him as straight as an arrow when he's stripped, and me so fondof children, and only had one of my own to live. I'd three babies, MissLyon, but the blessed Lord only spared Felix, and him the masterfulestand brownest of 'em all. But I did my duty by him, and I said, he'llhave more schooling than his father, and he'll grow up a doctor, andmarry a woman with money to furnish--as I was myself, spoons andeverything--and I shall have the grandchildren to look up to me, and bedrove out in the gig sometimes, like old Mrs. Lukyn. And you see whatit's all come to, Miss Lyon: here's Felix made a common man of himself,and says he'll never be married--which is the most unreasonable thing,and him never easy but when he's got the child on his lap, or when----"
"Stop, stop, mother," Felix burst in; "pray don't use that limpingargument again--that a man should marry because he's fond of children.That's a reason for not marrying. A bachelor's children are alwaysyoung: they're immortal children--always lisping, waddling, helpless,and with a chance of turning out good."
"The Lord above may know what you mean! And haven't other folks'schildren a chance of turning out good?"
"Oh, they grow out of it very fast. Here's Job Tudge now," said Felix,turning the little one round on his knee, and holding his head by theback--"Job's limbs will get lanky; this little fist that looks like apuff-ball and can hide nothing bigger than a gooseberry, will get largeand bony, and perhaps want to clutch more than its share; these wideblue eyes that tell me more truth than Job knows, will narrow and narrowand try to hide truth that Job would be better without knowing; thislittle negative nose will become long and self-asserting; and thislittle tongue--put out thy tongue, Job"--Job, awe-struck under thisceremony, put out a little red tongue very timidly--"this tongue, hardlybigger than a rose-leaf, will get large and thick, wag out of season, domischief, brag and cant for gain or vanity, and cut as cruelly, for allits clumsiness, as if it were a sharp-edged blade. Big Job will perhapsbe naughty--" As Felix, speaking with the loud emphatic distinctnesshabitual to him, brought out this terribly familiar word, Job's sense ofmystification became too painful: he hung his lip and began to cry.
"See here," said Mrs. Holt, "you're frightening the innocent child withsuch talk--and it's enough to frighten them that think themselves thesafest."
"Look here, Job, my man," said Felix, setting the boy down and turninghim toward Esther; "go to Miss Lyon, ask her to smile at you, and thatwill dry up your tears like the sunshine."
Job put his two brown fists on Esther's lap, and she stooped to kisshim. Then holding his face between her hands she said, "Tell Mr. Holt wedon't mean to be naughty, Job. He should believe in us more. But now Imust really go home."
Esther rose and held out her hand to Mrs. Holt, who kept it while shesaid, a little to Esther's confusion--
"I'm very glad it's took your fancy to come here sometimes, Miss Lyon. Iknow you're thought to hold your head high, but I speak of people as Ifind 'em. And I'm sure anybody had need be humble that comes wherethere's a floor like this--for I've put by my best tea-trays, they're soout of all character--I must look Above for comfort now; but I don't sayI'm not worthy to be called on for all that."
Felix had risen and moved toward the door that he might open it andshield Esther from more last words on his mother's part.
"Good-bye, Mr. Holt."
"Will Mr. Lyon like for me to sit with him an hour this evening, do youthink?"
"Why not? He always likes to see you."
"Then I will come. Good-bye."
"She's a very straight figure," said Mrs. Holt. "How she carriesherself! But I doubt there's some truth in what our people say. If shewon't look at young Muscat, it's the better for _him_. He'd need have abig fortune that marries her."
"That's true, mother," said Felix, sitting down, snatching up littleJob, and finding a vent for some unspeakable feeling in the pretence ofworrying him.
Esther was rather melancholy as she went home, yet happier withal thanshe had been for many days before. She thought, "I need not mind havingshown so much anxiety about his opinion. He is too clear-sighted tomistake our mutual position he is quite above putting a falseinterpretation on what I have done. Besides, he had not thought of me atall--I saw that plainly enough. Yet he was very kind. There is somethinggreater and better in him than I had imagined. His behavior to-day--tohis mother and me too--I should call it the highest gentlemanliness,only it seems in him to be something deeper. But he has chosen anintolerable life; though I suppose, if I had a mind equal to his, and ifhe loved me very dearly, I should choose the same life."
Esther felt that she had prefixed an impossible "if" to that result. Butnow she had known Felix her conception of what a happy love must be hadbecome like a dissolving view, in which the once-dear images weregradually melting into new forms and new colors. The favorite Byronicheroes were beginning to look like last night's decorations seen in thesober dawn. So fast does a little leaven spread within us--soincalculable is one personality on another. Behind all Esther'sthoughts, like an unacknowledged yet constraining presence, there wasthe sense, that if Felix Holt were to love her, her life would beexalted into something quite new--into a sort of difficult blessedness,such as one may imagine in beings who are conscious of painfully growinginto possession of higher powers.
It was quite true that Felix had not thought the more of Esther becauseof that Sunday afternoon's interview which had shaken her mind to thevery roots. He had avoided intruding on Mr. Lyon without special reason,because he believed the minister to be preoccupied with some privatecare. He had thought a great deal of Esther with a mixture of strongdisapproval and strong liking, which both together made a feeling thereverse of indifference; but he was not g
oing to let her have anyinfluence on his life. Even if his determination had not been fixed, hewould have believed that she would utterly scorn him in any other lightthan that of an acquaintance, and the emotion she had shown to-day didnot change that belief. But he was deeply touched by this manifestationof her better qualities, and felt that there was a new tie of friendshipbetween them. That was the brief history Felix would have given of hisrelation to Esther. And he was accustomed to observe himself. But veryclose and diligent looking at living creatures, even through the bestmicroscope, will leave room for new and contradictory discoveries.
Felix found Mr. Lyon particularly glad to talk to him. The minister hadnever yet disburdened himself about his letter to Mr. Philip Debarryconcerning the public conference; and as by this time he had all theheads of his discussion thoroughly in his mind, it was agreeable torecite them, as well as to express his regret that time had been lost byMr. Debarry's absence from the Manor, which had prevented the immediatefulfillment of his pledge.
"I don't see how he can fulfill it if the rector refuses," said Felix,thinking it well to moderate the little man's confidence.
"The rector is of a spirit that will not incur earthly impeachment, andhe cannot refuse what is necessary to his nephew's honorable dischargeof an obligation," said Mr. Lyon. "My young friend, it is a case whereinthe prearranged conditions tend by such a beautiful fitness to the issueI have sought, that I should have forever held myself a traitor to mycharge had I neglected the indication."