Tommy and Grizel

by J. M. Barrie

  CHAPTER XXVI

  GRIZEL ALL ALONE

  It was Tommy who was the favoured of the gods, you remember, notGrizel.

  Elspeth wondered to see her, after the publication of that book,looking much as usual. "You know how he loved you now," she said,perhaps a little reproachfully.

  "Yes," Grizel answered, "I know; I knew before the book came out."

  "You must be sorry for him?"

  Grizel nodded.

  "But proud of him also," Elspeth said. "You have a right to be proud."

  "I am as proud," Grizel replied, "as I have a right to be."

  Something in her voice touched Elspeth, who was so happy that shewanted everyone to be happy. "I want you to know, Grizel," she saidwarmly, "that I don't blame you for not being able to love him; wecan't help those things. Nor need you blame yourself too much, for Ihave often heard him say that artists must suffer in order to producebeautiful things."

  "But I cannot remember," Elspeth had to admit, with a sigh, to David,"that she made any answer to that, except 'Thank you.'"

  Grizel was nearly as reticent to David himself. Once only did shebreak down for a moment in his presence. It was when he was tellingher that the issue of the book had been stopped.

  "But I see you know already," he said. "Perhaps you even knowwhy--though he has not given any sufficient reason to Elspeth."

  David had given his promise, she reminded him, not to ask her anyquestions about Tommy.

  "But I don't see why I should keep it," he said bluntly.

  "Because you dislike him," she replied.

  "Grizel," he declared, "I have tried hard to like him. I have thoughtand thought about it, and I can't see that he has given me any justcause to dislike him."

  "And that," said Grizel, "makes you dislike him more than ever."

  "I know that you cared for him once," David persisted, "and I knowthat he wanted to marry you--"

  But she would not let him go on. "David," she said, "I want to give upmy house, and I want you to take it. It is the real doctor's house ofThrums, and people in need of you still keep ringing me up of nights.The only door to your surgery is through my passage; it is I whoshould be in lodgings now."

  "Do you really think I would, Grizel!" he cried indignantly.

  "Rather than see the dear house go into another's hands," she answeredsteadily; "for I am determined to leave it. Dr. McQueen won't feelstrange when he looks down, David, if it is only you he sees movingabout the old rooms, instead of me."

  "You are doing this for me, Grizel, and I won't have it."

  "I give you my word," she told him, "that I am doing it for myselfalone. I am tired of keeping a house, and of all its worries. Mendon't know what they are."

  She was smiling, but his brows wrinkled in pain. "Oh, Grizel!" hesaid, and stopped. And then he cried, "Since when has Grizel ceased tocare for housekeeping?"

  She did not say since when. I don't know whether she knew; but it wassince she and Tommy had ceased to correspond. David's words showed hertoo suddenly how she had changed, and it was then that she broke downbefore him--because she had ceased to care for housekeeping.

  But she had her way, and early in the new year David and his wife wereestablished in their new home, with all Grizel's furniture, exceptsuch as was needed for the two rooms rented by her from Gavinia. Shewould have liked to take away the old doctor's chair, because it wasthe bit of him left behind when he died, and then for that very reasonshe did not. She no longer wanted him to see her always. "I am not sonice as I used to be, and I want to keep it from you," she said to thechair when she kissed it good-bye.

  Was Grizel not as nice as she used to be? How can I answer, who loveher the more only? There is one at least, Grizel, who will neverdesert you.

  Ah, but was she?

  I seem again to hear the warning voice of Grizel, and this time she iscrying: "You know I was not."

  She knew it so well that she could say it to herself quite calmly. Sheknew that, with whatever repugnance she drove those passions away,they would come back--yes, and for a space be welcomed back. Why doesshe leave Gavinia's blue hearth this evening, and seek the solitaryDen? She has gone to summon them, and she knows it. They come thick inthe Den, for they know the place. It was there that her mother waswont to walk with them. Have they been waiting for you in the Den,Grizel, all this time? Have you found your mother's legacy at last?

  Don't think that she sought them often. It was never when she seemedto have anything to live for. Tommy would not write to her, and so didnot want her to write to him; but if that bowed her head, it nevermade her rebel. She still had her many duties. Whatever she suffered,so long as she could say, "I am helping him," she was in heart andsoul the Grizel of old. In his fits of remorse, which were many, hetried to produce work that would please her. Thus, in a heroic attemptto be practical, he wrote a political article in one of the reviews,quite in the ordinary style, but so much worse than the average ofsuch things that they would never have printed it without his name. Healso contributed to a magazine a short tale,--he who could never writetales,--and he struck all the beautiful reflections out of it, andnever referred to himself once, and the result was so imbecile thatkindly people said there must be another writer of the same name."Show them to Grizel," Tommy wrote to Elspeth, inclosing also some ofthe animadversions of the press, and he meant Grizel to see that hecould write in his own way only. But she read those two efforts withdelight, and said to Elspeth, "Tell him I am so proud of them."

  Elspeth thought it very nice of Grizel to defend the despised in thisway (even Elspeth had fallen asleep over the political paper). She didnot understand that Grizel loved them because they showed Tommy tryingto do without his wings.

  Then another trifle by him appeared, shorter even than the others; butno man in England could have written it except T. Sandys. It has notbeen reprinted, and I forget everything about it except that itssubject was love. "Will not the friends of the man who can producesuch a little masterpiece as this," the journals said, "save him fromwasting his time on lumber for the reviews, and drivelling tales?" AndTommy suggested to Elspeth that she might show Grizel this exhortationalso.

  Grizel saw she was not helping him at all. If he would not fight, whyshould she? Oh, let her fall and fall, it would not take her fartherfrom him! These were the thoughts that sent her into solitude, to meetwith worse ones. She could not face the morrow. "What shall I doto-morrow?" She never shrank from to-day--it had its duties; it couldbe got through: but to-morrow was a never-ending road. Oh, how couldshe get through to-morrow?

  Her great friend at this time was Corp; because he still retained hisfaith in Tommy. She could always talk of Tommy to Corp.

  How loyal Corp was! He still referred to Tommy as "him." Gavinia, muchdistressed, read aloud to Corp a newspaper attack on the politicalarticle, and all he said was, "He'll find a wy."

  "He's found it," he went upstairs to announce to Grizel, when thepraises of the "little masterpiece" arrived.

  "Yes, I know, Corp," she answered quietly. She was sitting by thewindow where the plant was. Tommy had asked her to take care of it,without telling her why.

  Something in her appearance troubled the hulking, blundering man. Hecould not have told what it was. I think it was simply this--thatGrizel no longer sat erect in her chair.

  "I'm nain easy in my mind about Grizel," he said that evening toGavinia. "There's something queery about her, though I canna bottom't."

  "Yea?" said Gavinia, with mild contempt.

  He continued pulling at his pipe, grunting as if in pleasant pain,which was the way Corp smoked.

  "I could see she's no pleased, though he has found a wy," he said.

  "What pleasure should she be able to sook out o' his keepingding-ding-danging on about that woman?" retorted Gavinia.

  "What woman?"

  "The London besom that gae him the go-by."

  "Was there sic a woman!" Corp cried.

  "Of course there was, and it's her t
hat he's aye writing about."

  "Havers, Gavinia! It's Grizel he's aye writing about, and it wasGrizel that gae him the go-by. It's town talk."

  But whatever the town might say, Gavinia stuck to her opinion."Grizel's no near so neat in her dressing as she was," she informedCorp, "and her hair is no aye tidy, and that bonnet she was inyesterday didna set her."

  "I've noticed it," cried Corp. "I've noticed it this while back,though I didna ken I had noticed it, Gavinia. I wonder what can be thereason?"

  "It's because nobody cares," Gavinia replied sadly. Trust one woman toknow another!

  "We a' care," said Corp, stoutly.

  "We're a' as nothing, Corp, when he doesna care. She's fond o' him,man."

  "Of course she is, in a wy. Whaur's the woman that could help it?"

  "There's many a woman that could help it," said Gavinia, tartly, forthe honour of her sex, "but she's no are o' them." To be candid,Gavinia was not one of them herself. "I'm thinking she's terrible fondo' him," she said, "and I'm nain sure that he has treated her weel."

  "Woman, take care; say a word agin him and I'll mittle you!" Corpthundered, and she desisted in fear.

  But he made her re-read the little essay to him in instalments, and atthe end he said victoriously, "You blethering crittur, there's no sicwoman. It's just another o' his ploys!"

  He marched upstairs to Grizel with the news, and she listened kindly."I am sure you are right," she said; "you understand him better thanany of them, Corp," and it was true.

  He thought he had settled the whole matter. He was burning to bedownstairs to tell Gavinia that these things needed only a man. "Andso you'll be yoursel' again, Grizel," he said, with great relief.

  She had not seen that he was aiming at her until now, and it touchedher. "Am I so different, Corp?"

  Not at all, he assured her delicately, but she was maybe no quite soneatly dressed as she used to be, and her hair wasna braided back sosmooth, and he didna think that bonnet quite set her.

  "Gavinia has been saying that to you!"

  "I noticed it mysel', Grizel; I'm a terrible noticher."

  "Perhaps you are right," she said, reflecting, after looking atherself for the first time for some days. "But to think of yourcaring, Corp!"

  "I care most michty," he replied, with terrific earnestness.

  "I must try to satisfy you, then," she said, smiling. "But, Corp,please don't discuss me with Gavinia."

  This request embarrassed him, for soon again he did not know how toact. There was Grizel's strange behaviour with the child, forinstance. "No, I won't come down to see him to-day, Corp," she hadsaid; "somehow children weary me."

  Such words from Grizel! His mouth would not shut and he could saynothing. "Forgive me, Corp!" she cried remorsefully, and randownstairs, and with many a passionate caress asked forgiveness of thechild.

  Corp followed her, and for the moment he thought he must have beendreaming upstairs. "I wish I saw you wi' bairns o' your ain, Grizel,"he said, looking on entranced; but she gave him such a pitiful smilethat he could not get it out of his head. Deprived of Gavinia'scounsel, and afraid to hurt Elspeth, he sought out the doctor and saidbluntly to him, "How is it he never writes to Grizel? She misses himterrible."

  "So," David thought, "Grizel's dejection is becoming common talk.""Damn him!" he said, in a gust of fury.

  But this was too much for loyal Corp. "Damn you!" he roared.

  But in his heart he knew that the doctor was a just man, andhenceforth, when he was meaning to comfort Grizel, he was oftenseeking comfort for himself.

  He did it all with elaborate cunning, to prevent her guessing that hewas disturbed about her: asked permission to sit with her, forinstance, because he was dull downstairs; mentioned as a ludicrousthing that there were people who believed Tommy could treat a womanbadly, and waited anxiously for the reply. Oh, he was transparent, wasCorp, but you may be sure Grizel never let him know that she sawthrough him. Tommy could not be blamed, she pointed out, though he didnot care for some woman who perhaps cared for him.

  "Exac'ly," said Corp.

  And if he seemed, Grizel went on, with momentary bitterness, to treather badly, it could be only because she had made herself cheap.

  "That's it," said Corp, cheerfully. Then he added hurriedly, "No,that's no it ava. She's the last to mak' hersel' cheap." Then he sawthat this might put Grizel on the scent. "Of course there's no sicwoman," he said artfully, "but if there was, he would mak' it a'right. She mightna see how it was to be done, but kennin' what acrittur he is, she maun be sure he would find a wy. She would neverlose hope, Grizel."

  And then, if Grizel did not appease him instantly, he would sayappealingly, "I canna think less o' him, Grizel; no, it would mak' mejust terrible low. Grizel," he would cry sternly, "dinna tell me tothink less o' that laddie."

  Then, when she had reassured him, he would recall the many instancesin which Tommy as a boy had found a way. "Did we ever ken he wasfinding it, Grizel, till he did find it? Many a time I says to mysel',says I, 'All is over,' and syne next minute that holy look comes owerhis face, and he stretches out his legs like as if he was riding on ahorse, and all that kens him says, 'He has found a wy.' If I was thewoman (no that there is sic a woman) I would say to mysel', 'He wasnever beat,' I would say, 'when he was a laddie, and it's no likelyhe'll be beat when he's a man'; and I wouldna sit looking at the firewi' my hands fauded, nor would I forget to keep my hair neat, and Iwould wear the frock that set me best, and I would play in my auldbonny wy wi' bairns, for says I to mysel', 'I'm sure to hae bairns o'my ain some day, and--"'

  But Grizel cried, "Don't, Corp, don't!"

  "I winna," he answered miserably, "no, I winna. Forgive me, Grizel; Ithink I'll be stepping"; and then when he got as far as the door hewould say, "I canna do 't, Grizel; I'm just terrible wae for the woman(if sic a woman there be), but I canna think ill o' him; you maunaspeir it o' me."

  He was much brightened by a reflection that came to him one day inchurch. "Here have I been near blaming him for no finding a wy, andvery like he doesna ken we want him to find a wy!"

  How to inform Tommy without letting Grizel know? She had tried twicelong ago to teach him to write, but he found it harder on the wriststhan the heaviest luggage. It was not safe for him even to think ofthe extra twirl that turned an _n_ into an _m_, without first removingany knick-knacks that might be about. Nevertheless, he now proposed athird set-to, and Grizel acquiesced, though she thought it but anotherof his inventions to keep her from brooding.

  The number of words in the English tongue excited him, and he oftenlost all by not confining the chase to one, like a dog after rabbits.Fortunately, he knew which words he wanted to bag.

  "Change at Tilliedrum!" "Tickets! show your tickets!" and the like, hemuch enjoyed meeting in the flesh, so to speak.

  "Let's see 'Find a wy,' Grizel," he would say. "Ay, ay, and is thatthe crittur!" and soon the sly fellow could write it, or at least drawit.

  He affected an ambition to write a letter to his son on thatgentleman's first birthday, and so "Let's see what 'I send you thesefew scrapes' is like, Grizel." She assured him that this is notessential in correspondence, but all the letters he had ever heardread aloud began thus, and he got his way.

  Anon Master Shiach was surprised and gratified to receive thefollowing epistle: "My dear sir, I send you these few scrapes to tellyou as you have found a way to be a year of age the morn. All ticketsready in which Gavinia joins so no more at present I am, sir, yourobed't father Corp Shiach."

  The fame of this letter went abroad, but not a soul knew of the next.It said: "My dear Sir, I send you these few scrapes to tell you asGrizel needs cheering up. Kindly oblidge by finding a way so no moreat present. I am sir your obed't Serv't Corp Shiach."

  To his bewilderment, this produced no effect, though only becauseTommy never got it, and he wrote again, more sternly, requesting hishero to find a way immediately. He was waiting restlessly for theanswer at a time when Elspeth called on Grizel
to tell her ofsomething beautiful that Tommy had done. He had been very ill fornearly a fortnight, it appeared, but had kept it from her to save heranxiety. "Just think, Grizel; all the time he was in bed withbronchitis he was writing me cheerful letters every other daypretending there was nothing the matter with him. He is better now. Ihave heard about it from a Mrs. Jerry, a lady whom I knew in London,and who has nursed him in the kindest way." (But this same Mrs. Jerryhad opened Corp's letters and destroyed them as of no importance.) "Hewould never have mentioned it himself. How like him, Grizel! Youremember, I made him promise before he went back to London that if hewas ill he would let me know at once so that I could go to him, but heis so considerate he would not give me pain. He wrote those letters,Grizel, when he was gasping for breath."

  "But she seemed quite unmoved," Elspeth said sadly to her husbandafterwards.

  Unmoved! Yes; Grizel remained apparently unmoved until Elspeth hadgone, but then--the torture she endured! "Oh, cruel, cruel!" shecried, and she could neither stand nor sit; she flung herself downbefore the fire and rocked this way and that, in a paroxysm of woe."Oh, cruel, cruel!"

  It was Tommy who was cruel. To be ill, near to dying, apparently, andnot to send her word! She could never, never have let him go had henot made that promise to Elspeth; and he kept it thus. Oh, wicked,wicked!

  "You would have gone to him at once, Elspeth! You! Who are you, thattalks of going to him as your right? He is not yours, I tell you; heis mine! He is mine alone; it is I who would go to him. Who is thiswoman that dares take my place by his side when he is ill!"

  She rose to go to him, to drive away all others. I am sure that waswhat gave her strength to rise; but she sank to the floor again, andher passion lasted for hours. And through the night she was crying toGod that she would be brave no more. In her despair she hoped he heardher.

  Her mood had not changed when David came to see her next morning, toadmit, too, that Tommy seemed to have done an unselfish thing inconcealing his illness from them. Grizel nodded, but he thought shewas looking strangely reckless. He had a message from Elspeth. Tommyhad asked her to let him know whether the plant was flourishing.

  "So you and he don't correspond now?" David said, with his old,puzzled look.

  "No," was all her answer to that. The plant, she thought, was dead;she had not, indeed, paid much attention to it of late; but she showedit to David, and he said it would revive if more carefully tended. Healso told her its rather pathetic history, which was new to Grizel,and of the talk at the wedding which had led to Tommy's taking pity onit. "Fellow-feeling, I suppose," he said lightly; "you see, they bothblossomed prematurely."

  The words were forgotten by him as soon as spoken; but Grizel sat onwith them, for they were like a friend--or was it an enemy?--who hadcome to tell her strange things. Yes, the doctor was right. Now sheknew why Tommy had loved this plant. Of the way in which he would sitlooking wistfully at it, almost nursing it, she had been told byAaron; he had himself begged her to tend it lovingly. Fellow-feeling!The doctor was shrewder than he thought.

  Well, what did it matter to her? All that day she would do nothing forthe plant, but in the middle of the night she rose and ran to it andhugged it, and for a time she was afraid to look at it by lamplight,lest Tommy was dead. Whether she had never been asleep that night, orhad awakened from a dream, she never knew, but she ran to the plant,thinking it and Tommy were as one, and that they must die together. Nosuch thought had ever crossed his mind, but it seemed to her that shehad been told it by him, and she lit her fire to give the plantwarmth, and often desisted, to press it to her bosom, the heat seemedto come so reluctantly from the fire. This idea that his fate wasbound up with that of the plant took strange possession of the oncepractical Grizel; it was as if some of Tommy's nature had passed intoher to help her break the terrible monotony of the days.

  And from that time there was no ailing child more passionately tendedthan the plant, and as spring advanced it began once more to put forthnew leaves.

  And Grizel also seemed glorified again. She was her old self. Darkshapes still lingered for her in the Den, but she avoided them, and ifthey tried to enter into her, she struggled with them and cast themout. As she saw herself able to fight and win once more, her pridereturned to her, and one day she could ask David, joyously, to giveher a present of the old doctor's chair. And she could kneel by itsside and say to it, "You can watch me always; I am just as I used tobe."

  Seeing her once more the incarnation of vigor and content, singinggaily to his child, and as eager to be at her duties betimes as amorning in May, Corp grunted with delight, and was a hero for nottelling her that it was he who had passed Tommy the word. For, ofcourse, Tommy had done it all.

  "Somebody has found a wy, Grizel!" he would say, chuckling, and shesmiled an agreement.

  "And yet," says he, puzzled, "I've watched, and you hinna haen aletter frae him. It defies the face o' clay to find out how he hasmanaged it. Oh, the crittur! Ay, I suppose you dinna want to tell mewhat it is that has lichted you up again?"

  She could not tell him, for it was a compact she had made with one whodid not sign it. "I shall cease to be bitter and despairing andwicked, and try every moment of my life to be good and do good, solong as my plant flourishes; but if it withers, then I shall go tohim--I don't care what happens; I shall go to him."

  It was the middle of June when she first noticed that the plant wasbeginning to droop.