Heartsease or Brother's Wife

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  'Indeed he did you more justice,' said Violet, 'he told me the box was your setting to rights, and the drawer his. It was very honest of him, for I must say the box did you most credit.'

  'As to the drawer,' said Arthur, 'I wish I had put it into the fire at once! Those accounts are a monomania! She has been worse from the day she got hold of that book of hers again, and the absurd part of it is that these are all bills that she pays!'

  'Oh! they are all comfortable now,' said Violet.

  'And what did you say to Arthur's bold stroke!' said John.

  'Oh! I never laughed more in my life.'

  'Ah ha'' said Arthur, 'it was all my admirable sagacity! Why, John, the woman was an incubus saddled upon us by Miss Standaloft, that this poor silly child did not know how to get rid of, though she was cheating us out of house and home. Never were such rejoicings as when she found the Old Man of the Sea was gone!'

  'It is quite a different thing now,' said Violet. 'Nurse found me such a nice niece of her own, who does not consume as much in a fortnight as that dreadful woman did in a week. Indeed, my great book has some satisfaction in it now.'

  'And yet he accuses it of having thrown you back.'

  'Everything does that!' said Arthur. 'She will extract means of tiring herself out of anything--pretends to be well, and then is good for nothing!'

  'Arthur! Arthur! do you know what you are doing with the tea?' cried Violet, starting up. He has put in six shellfuls for three people, and a lump of sugar, and now was shutting up the unfortunate teapot without one drop of water!' And gaily driving him away, she held up the sugar-tongs with the lump of sugar in his face, while he laughed and yielded the field, saying, disdainfully, 'Woman's work.'

  'Under the circumstances,' said John, 'putting in no water was the best thing he could do.'

  'Ay,' said Arthur, 'a pretty fellow you for a West Indian proprietor, to consume neither sugar nor cigars.'

  'At this rate,' said John, 'they are the people to consume nothing. There was such an account of the Barbuda property the other day, that my father is thinking of going to see what is to be done with it.'

  'No bad plan for your next winter,' said Arthur. 'Now, Violet, to your sofa! You have brewed your female potion in your female fashion, and may surely leave your betters to pour it out.'

  'No, indeed! How do I know what you may serve us up?' said she, quite revived with laughing. 'I won't give up my place.'

  'Quite right, Violet,' said John, 'don't leave me to his mercy. Last time he made tea for me, it consisted only of the other ingredient, hot water, after which I took the law into my own hands for our mutual benefit. Pray what became of him after I was gone?'

  'I was obliged to have him up into my room, and give him his tea properly there, or I believe he would have existed on nothing but cigars.'

  'Well, I shall have some opinion of you when you make him leave off cigars.'

  'Catch her!' quietly responded Arthur.

  'There can't be a worse thing for a man that gets bad coughs.'

  'That's all smoke, Violet,' said Arthur. 'Don't tell her so, or I shall never have any peace.'

  'At least, I advise you to open the windows of his den before you show my mother and Theodora the house.'

  'As to Theodora! what is the matter with her!' said Arthur.

  'I don't know,' said John.

  'In one of her moods? Well, we shall have her here in ten days' time, and I shall know what to be at with her.'

  'I know she likes babies,' said Violet, with confidence. She had quite revived, and was lively and amused; but as soon as tea was over, Arthur insisted on her going to bed.

  The loss of her gentle mirth seemed to be felt, for a long silence ensued; Arthur leaning against the mantel-shelf, solacing himself with a low whistle, John sitting in meditation. At last he looked up, saying, 'I wish you would all come and stay with me at Ventnor.'

  'Thank you; but you see there's no such thing as my going. Fitzhugh is in Norway, and till he comes back, I can't get away for more than a day or two.'

  'Suppose,' said John, rather doubtingly; 'what should you think of putting Violet under my charge, and coming backwards and forwards yourself?'

  'Why, Harding did talk of sea air, but she did not take to the notion; and I was not sorry; for, of all things I detest, the chief is sticking up in a sea place, with nothing to do. But it is wretched work going on as we do, though they say there is nothing the matter but weakness. I verily believe it is all that child's eternal noise that regularly wears her out. She is upset in a moment; and whenever she is left alone, she sets to work on some fidget or other about the house, that makes her worse than before.'

  'Going from home would be the best cure for that.'

  'I suppose it would. I meant her to have gone out with my mother, but that can't be anyway now! The sea would give her a chance; I could run down pretty often; and you would see that she did not tire herself.'

  'I would do my best to take care of her, if you would trust her to me.'

  'I know you would; and it is very kind in you to think of it.'

  'I will find a house, and write as soon as it is ready. Do you think the end of the week would be too soon for her? I am sure London is doing her harm.'

  'Whenever you please; and yet I am sorry. I wanted my father to have seen the boy; but perhaps he had better look a little more respectable, and learn to hold his tongue first. Besides, how will it be taken, her going out of town just as they come up?'

  'I rather think it would be better for her not to meet them till she is stronger. Her continual anxiety and effort to please would be too much strain.'

  'Very likely; and I am sure I won't keep her here to expose her to Miss Martindale's airs. She shall come as soon as you like.'

  Arthur was strengthened in his determination by the first sound that met him on going up-stairs--the poor babe's lamentable voice; and by finding Violet, instead of taking the rest she so much needed, vainly trying to still the feeble moaning. He was positively angry; and almost as if the poor little thing had been wilfully persecuting her, declared it would be the death of her, and peremptorily ordered it up-stairs; the nurse only too glad to carry it off, and agreeing with him that it was doing more harm to its mother than she did good to it. Violet, in submissive misery, gave it up, and hid her face. One of her chief subjects for self-torment was an imagination that Arthur did not like the baby, and was displeased with its crying; and she felt utterly wretched, hardly able to bear the cheerful tone in which he spoke! 'Well, Violet, we shall soon set you up. It is all settled. You are to go, at the end of the week, to stay with John in the Isle of Wight.'

  'Go away?' said Violet, in an extinguished voice.

  'Yes; it is the very thing for you. I shall stay here, and go backwards and forwards. Well, what is it now?'

  She was starting up, as the opening of the door let out another scream. 'There he is still! Let me go to him for one minute.'

  'Folly!' said Arthur, impatiently. 'There's no peace day or night. I won't stand it any longer. You are half dead already. I will not have it go on. Lie down; go to sleep directly, and don't trouble your head about anything more till morning.'

  Like a good child, though choking with tears, she obeyed the first mandate; and presently was rather comforted by his listening at the foot of the stairs, and reporting that the boy seemed to be quiet at last. The rest of the order it was not in her power to obey; she was too much fatigued to sleep soundly, or to understand clearly. Most of the night was spent in broken dreams of being separated from her child and her husband, and wakening to the knowledge that something was going to happen.

  At last came sounder slumbers; and she awoke with an aching head, but to clearer perceptions. And when Arthur, before going down to breakfast, asked what she wished him to say to John, she answered: 'It is very kind of him--but you never meant me to go without you?'

  'I shall take you there, and run down pretty often; and John has been used to coddling himsel
f all his life, so of course he will know how to take care of you.'

  'How kind he is, but I don't'--she broke off, and looked at the little pinched face and shrivelled arms of the tiny creature, which she pressed more closely to her; then, with a hesitating voice, 'Only, if it would do baby good!'

  'Of course it would. He can't be well while things go on at this rate. Only ask Harding.'

  'I wonder whether Mr. Martindale knew it was what Mr. Harding recommended! But you would be by yourself.'

  'As if I had not taken care of myself for three-and-twenty years without your help!'

  'And all your party will be in town, so that you will not miss me.'

  'I shall be with you very often. Shall I tell John you accept?'

  'Tell him it is very kind, and I am so much obliged to him,' said Violet, unable to speak otherwise than disconsolately.

  Accordingly the brothers agreed that Arthur should bring her to Ventnor on Saturday, if, as John expected, he could be prepared to receive her; placing much confidence in Brown's savoir faire, though Brown was beyond measure amazed at such a disarrangement of his master's methodical habits; and Arthur himself gave a commiserating shake of the head as he observed that there was no accounting for tastes, but if John chose to shut himself up in a lodging with the most squallingest babby in creation, he was not the man to gainsay him; and further reflected, that if a man must be a younger son, John was a model elder brother.

  Poor Violet! Her half-recovered state must be an excuse for her dire consternation on hearing it was definitively settled that she was to be carried off to Ventnor in four days' time! How arrange for Arthur? Where find a nursemaid? What would become of the baby so far from Mr. Harding? The Isle of Wight seemed the ends of the earth--out of England! Helpless and overpowered, she was in despair; it came to Arthur's asking, in displeasure, what she wanted--whether she meant to go or not. She thought of her drooping infant, and said at once she would go.

  'Well, then, what's all this about?'

  Then came tears, and Arthur went away, declaring she did not know herself what she would be at. He had really borne patiently with much plaintiveness, and she knew it. She accused herself of ingratitude and unreasonableness, and went into a fresh agony on that score; but soon a tap at the door warned her to strive for composure. It was Sarah, and Violet felt sure that the dreaded moment was come of her giving warning; but it was only a message. 'If you please, ma'am, there's a young person wants to see you.'

  'Come as a nursery maid?' said Violet, springing up in her nervous agitated way. 'Do you think she will do?'

  'I don't think nothing of her,' said Sarah, emphatically. 'Don't you go and be in a way, ma'am; there's no hurry.'

  'Yes, but there is, Sarah. Baby and I are to go next Saturday to the Isle of Wight, and I can't take old nurse. I must have some one.'

  'You won't get nobody by hurrying,' said Sarah.

  'But what's to be done, Sarah? I can't bear giving the dear baby to a stranger, but I can't help it.'

  'As for that, said Sarah, gloomily, 'I don't see but I could look after Master John as well as any that is like to offer for the present.'

  'You! Oh, that would be nice! But I thought you did not like children?'

  'I don't, but I don't mind while he is too little to make a racket, and worrit one out of one's life. It is only for the present, till you can suit yourself, ma'am--just that you may not be lost going into foreign parts with a stranger.'

  Sarah had been nursing the baby every leisure moment, and had, during the worst part of Violet's illness, had more to do with him than the regular nurse. This was happily settled, and all at which Violet still demurred was how the house and its master should be provided for in their absence; to which Sarah replied, 'Mary would do well enough for he;' and before Violet knew to which she must suppose the pronoun referred, there was a new-comer, Lady Elizabeth, telling her that Arthur had just been to beg her to come to her, saying he feared he had hurried her and taken her by surprise.

  Under such kind soothing Violet's rational mind returned. She ceased to attempt to put herself into a vehement state of preparation, and began to take so cheerful a view of affairs that she met Arthur again in excellent spirits.

  Emma Brandon pitied her for being left alone with Mr. Martindale, but this was no subject of dread to her, and she confessed that she was relieved to escape the meeting with the rest of the family. The chief regret was, that the two friends would miss the constant intercourse with which they had flattered themselves--the only thing that made London endurable to poor Emma. She amused Violet with her lamentations over her gaieties, and her piteous accounts of the tedium of parties and balls; whereas Violet declared that she liked them very much.

  'It was pleasant to walk about with Arthur and hear his droll remarks, and she liked seeing people look nice and well dressed.'

  'Ah! you are better off. You are not obliged to dance, and you are safe, too. Now, whenever any one asks to be introduced to me I am sure he wants the Priory, and feel bound to guard it.'

  'And so you don't like any one, and find it stupid?'

  'So I do, of course, and I hope I always shall. But oh! Violet, I have not told you that I saw that lady again this morning at the early service. She had still her white dress on, I am sure it is for Whitsuntide; and her face is so striking--so full of thought and earnestness, just like what one would suppose a novice. I shall take her for my romance, and try to guess at her history.'

  'To console you for your godson going away?'

  'Ah! it won't do that! But it will be something to think of, and I will report to you if I make out any more about her. And mind you give me a full account of the godson.'

  Arthur wished the journey well over; he had often felt a sort of superior pity for travellers with a baby in company, and did not relish the prospect; but things turned out well; he found an acquaintance, and travelled with him in a different carriage, and little Johnnie, lulled by the country air, slept so much that Violet had leisure to enjoy the burst into country scenery, and be refreshed by the glowing beauty of the green meadows, the budding woods, and the brilliant feathery broom blossoms that gilded the embankments. At Winchester Arthur came to her window, and asked if she remembered last year.

  'It is the longest year of my life,' said she. 'Oh, don't laugh as if I had made a bad compliment, but so much has happened!' There was no time for more; and as she looked out at the cathedral as they moved on, she recollected her resolutions, and blamed herself for her failures, but still in a soothed and happier frame of hope.

  The crossing was her delight, her first taste of sea. There was a fresh wind, cold enough to make Arthur put on his great-coat, but to her it brought a delicious sense of renewed health and vigour, as she sat inhaling it, charmed to catch a drop of spray on her face, her eyes and cheeks brightening and her spirits rising.

  The sparkling Solent, the ships at Spithead, the hills and wooded banks, growing more defined before her; the town of Ryde and its long pier, were each a new wonder and delight, and she exclaimed with such ecstasy, and laughed so like the joyous girl she used to be, that Arthur felt old times come back; and when he handed her out of the steamer he entirely forgot the baby.

  At last she was tired with pleasure, and lay back in the carriage in languid enjoyment; fields, cottages, hawthorns, lilacs, and glimpses of sea flitting past her like pictures in a dream, a sort of waking trance that would have been broken by speaking or positive thinking.

  They stopped at a gate: she looked up and gave a cry of delight. Such a cottage as she and Annette had figured in dreams of rural bliss, gable-ends, thatch, verandah overrun with myrtle, rose, and honeysuckle, a little terrace, a steep green slope of lawn shut in with laburnum and lilac, in the flush of the lovely close of May, a view of the sea, a green wicket, bowered over with clematis, and within it John Martindale, his look of welcome overpowering his usual gravity, so as to give him an air of gladness such as she had never seen in him before.


  CHAPTER 4

  The inmost heart of man if glad Partakes a livelier cheer, And eyes that cannot but be sad Let fall a brightened tear. Since thy return, through days and weeks Of hope that grew by stealth, How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health.--WORDSWORTH'S Ode to May

  'I say,' called Arthur, standing half in and half out of the French window, as Sarah paced round the little garden, holding a parasol over her charge, 'if that boy kicks up a row at night, don't mind Mrs. Martindale. Carry him off, and lock the door. D'ye hear?'

  'Yes, sir,' said the unmoved Sarah.

  'Stern, rugged nurse!' said Arthur, drawing in his head. 'Your boy ought to be virtue itself, Violet. Now for you, John, if you see her at those figures, take them away. Don't let her think what two and two make.'

  'You are like one of my little sisters giving her doll to the other to keep,' said Violet.

  'Some folks say it is a doll, don't they, John?'

  'Well, I will try to take as much care of your doll as she does of hers,' said John, smiling.

  'Good-bye, then! I wish I could stay!'

  Violet went to the gate with him, while John stood at the window watching the slender girlish figure under the canopy of clematis, as she stood gazing after her husband, then turned and slowly paced back again, her eyes on the ground, and her face rather sad and downcast.

  That pretty creature was a strange new charge for him, and he dreaded her pining almost as he would have feared the crying of a child left alone with him.

  'Well, Violet,' said he, cheerfully, 'we must do our best. What time would you like to take a drive?'

  'Any time, thank you,' said she, gratefully, but somewhat plaintively; 'but do not let me be a trouble to you. Sarah is going to hire a chair for me to go down to the beach. I only want not to be in your way.'

  'I have nothing to do. You know I am no great walker, and I am glad of an excuse for setting up my carriage. Shall we dine early, and go out when the sun is not so high?'