Not many days after this, on a mild sunny morning - rather soft
under foot; for the last fall of snow was only just wasted away,
leaving yet a thin ridge, here and there, lingering on the fresh
green grass beneath the hedges; but beside them already, the young
primroses were peeping from among their moist, dark foliage, and
the lark above was singing of summer, and hope, and love, and every
heavenly thing - I was out on the hill-side, enjoying these
delights, and looking after the well-being of my young lambs and
their mothers, when, on glancing round me, I beheld three persons
ascending from the vale below. They were Eliza Millward, Fergus,
and Rose; so I crossed the field to meet them; and, being told they
were going to Wildfell Hall, I declared myself willing to go with
them, and offering my arm to Eliza, who readily accepted it in lieu
of my brother's, told the latter he might go back, for I would
accompany the ladies.
'I beg your pardon!' exclaimed he. 'It's the ladies that are
accompanying me, not I them. You had all had a peep at this
wonderful stranger but me, and I could endure my wretched ignorance
no longer - come what would, I must be satisfied; so I begged Rose
to go with me to the Hall, and introduce me to her at once. She
swore she would not, unless Miss Eliza would go too; so I ran to
the vicarage and fetched her; and we've come hooked all the way, as
fond as a pair of lovers - and now you've taken her from me; and
you want to deprive me of my walk and my visit besides. Go back to
your fields and your cattle, you lubberly fellow; you're not fit to
associate with ladies and gentlemen like us, that have nothing to
do but to run snooking about to our neighbours' houses, peeping
into their private corners, and scenting out their secrets, and
picking holes in their coats, when we don't find them ready made to
our hands - you don't understand such refined sources of
enjoyment.'
'Can't you both go?' suggested Eliza, disregarding the latter half
of the speech.
'Yes, both, to be sure!' cried Rose; 'the more the merrier - and
I'm sure we shall want all the cheerfulness we can carry with us to
that great, dark, gloomy room, with its narrow latticed windows,
and its dismal old furniture - unless she shows us into her studio
again.'
So we went all in a body; and the meagre old maid-servant, that
opened the door, ushered us into an apartment such as Rose had
described to me as the scene of her first introduction to Mrs.
Graham, a tolerably spacious and lofty room, but obscurely lighted
by the old-fashioned windows, the ceiling, panels, and chimney-
piece of grim black oak - the latter elaborately but not very
tastefully carved, - with tables and chairs to match, an old
bookcase on one side of the fire-place, stocked with a motley
assemblage of books, and an elderly cabinet piano on the other.
The lady was seated in a stiff, high-backed arm-chair, with a small
round table, containing a desk and a work-basket on one side of
her, and her little boy on the other, who stood leaning his elbow
on her knee, and reading to her, with wonderful fluency, from a
small volume that lay in her lap; while she rested her hand on his
shoulder, and abstractedly played with the long, wavy curls that
fell on his ivory neck. They struck me as forming a pleasing
contrast to all the surrounding objects; but of course their
position was immediately changed on our entrance. I could only
observe the picture during the few brief seconds that Rachel held
the door for our admittance.
I do not think Mrs. Graham was particularly delighted to see us:
there was something indescribably chilly in her quiet, calm
civility; but I did not talk much to her. Seating myself near the
window, a little back from the circle, I called Arthur to me, and
he and I and Sancho amused ourselves very pleasantly together,
while the two young ladies baited his mother with small talk, and
Fergus sat opposite with his legs crossed and his hands in his
breeches-pockets, leaning back in his chair, and staring now up at
the ceiling, now straight forward at his hostess (in a manner that
made me strongly inclined to kick him out of the room), now
whistling sotto voce to himself a snatch of a favourite air, now
interrupting the conversation, or filling up a pause (as the case
might be) with some most impertinent question or remark. At one
time it was, - 'It, amazes me, Mrs. Graham, how you could choose
such a dilapidated, rickety old place as this to live in. If you
couldn't afford to occupy the whole house, and have it mended up,
why couldn't you take a neat little cottage?'
'Perhaps I was too proud, Mr. Fergus,' replied she, smiling;
'perhaps I took a particular fancy for this romantic, old-fashioned
place - but, indeed, it has many advantages over a cottage - in the
first place, you see, the rooms are larger and more airy; in the
second place, the unoccupied apartments, which I don't pay for, may
serve as lumber-rooms, if I have anything to put in them; and they
are very useful for my little boy to run about in on rainy days
when he can't go out; and then there is the garden for him to play
in, and for me to work in. You see I have effected some little
improvement already,' continued she, turning to the window. 'There
is a bed of young vegetables in that corner, and here are some
snowdrops and primroses already in bloom - and there, too, is a
yellow crocus just opening in the sunshine.'
'But then how can you bear such a situation - your nearest
neighbours two miles distant, and nobody looking in or passing by?
Rose would go stark mad in such a place. She can't put on life
unless she sees half a dozen fresh gowns and bonnets a day - not to
speak of the faces within; but you might sit watching at these
windows all day long, and never see so much as an old woman
carrying her eggs to market.'
'I am not sure the loneliness of the place was not one of its chief
recommendations. I take no pleasure in watching people pass the
windows; and I like to be quiet.'
'Oh! as good as to say you wish we would all of us mind our own
business, and let you alone.'
'No, I dislike an extensive acquaintance; but if I have a few
friends, of course I am glad to see them occasionally. No one can
be happy in eternal solitude. Therefore, Mr. Fergus, if you choose
to enter my house as a friend, I will make you welcome; if not, I
must confess, I would rather you kept away.' She then turned and
addressed some observation to Rose or Eliza.
'And, Mrs. Graham,' said he again, five minutes after, 'we were
disputing, as we came along, a question that you can readily decide
for us, as it mainly regarded yourself - and, indeed, we often hold
discussions about you; for some of us have nothing better to do
than to talk about our neighbours' concerns, and we, the indigenous
plants of the soil, have known each other so long, and talked each
other over so often, that we are quite sick of that game; so that a
stranger coming amongst us makes an invaluable addition to our
exhausted sources of amusement. Well, the question, or questions,
you are requested to solve - '
'Hold your tongue, Fergus!' cried Rose, in a fever of apprehension
and wrath.
'I won't, I tell you. The questions you are requested to solve are
these:- First, concerning your birth, extraction, and previous
residence. Some will have it that you are a foreigner, and some an
Englishwoman; some a native of the north country, and some of the
south; some say - '
'Well, Mr. Fergus, I'll tell you. I'm an Englishwoman - and I
don't see why any one should doubt it - and I was born in the
country, neither in the extreme north nor south of our happy isle;
and in the country I have chiefly passed my life, and now I hope
you are satisfied; for I am not disposed to answer any more
questions at present.'
'Except this - '
'No, not one more!' laughed she, and, instantly quitting her seat,
she sought refuge at the window by which I was seated, and, in very
desperation, to escape my brother's persecutions, endeavoured to
draw me into conversation.
'Mr. Markham,' said she, her rapid utterance and heightened colour
too plainly evincing her disquietude, 'have you forgotten the fine
sea-view we were speaking of some time ago? I think I must trouble
you, now, to tell me the nearest way to it; for if this beautiful
weather continue, I shall, perhaps, be able to walk there, and take
my sketch; I have exhausted every other subject for painting; and I
long to see it.'
I was about to comply with her request, but Rose would not suffer
me to proceed.
'Oh, don't tell her, Gilbert!' cried she; 'she shall go with us.
It's - Bay you are thinking about, I suppose, Mrs. Graham? It is a
very long walk, too far for you, and out of the question for
Arthur. But we were thinking about making a picnic to see it some
fine day; and, if you will wait till the settled fine weather
comes, I'm sure we shall all be delighted to have you amongst us.'
Poor Mrs. Graham looked dismayed, and attempted to make excuses,
but Rose, either compassionating her lonely life, or anxious to
cultivate her acquaintance, was determined to have her; and every
objection was overruled. She was told it would only be a small
party, and all friends, and that the best view of all was from -
Cliffs, full five miles distant.
'Just a nice walk for the gentlemen,' continued Rose; 'but the
ladies will drive and walk by turns; for we shall have our pony-
carriage, which will be plenty large enough to contain little
Arthur and three ladies, together with your sketching apparatus,
and our provisions.'
So the proposal was finally acceded to; and, after some further
discussion respecting the time and manner of the projected
excursion, we rose, and took our leave.
But this was only March: a cold, wet April, and two weeks of May
passed over before we could venture forth on our expedition with
the reasonable hope of obtaining that pleasure we sought in
pleasant prospects, cheerful society, fresh air, good cheer and
exercise, without the alloy of bad roads, cold winds, or
threatening clouds. Then, on a glorious morning, we gathered our
forces and set forth. The company consisted of Mrs. and Master
Graham, Mary and Eliza Millward, Jane and Richard Wilson, and Rose,
Fergus, and Gilbert Markham.
Mr. Lawrence had been invited to join us, but, for some reason best
known to himself, had refused to give us his company. I had
solicited the favour myself. When I did so, he hesitated, and
asked who were going. Upon my naming Miss Wilson among the rest,
he seemed half inclined to go, but when I mentioned Mrs. Graham,
thinking it might be a further inducement, it appeared to have a
contrary effect, and he declined it altogether, and, to confess the
truth, the decision was not displeasing to me, though I could
scarcely tell you why.
It was about midday when we reached the place of our destination.
Mrs. Graham walked all the way to the cliffs; and little Arthur
walked the greater part of it too; for he was now much more hardy
and active than when he first entered the neighbourhood, and he did
not like being in the carriage with strangers, while all his four
friends, mamma, and Sancho, and Mr. Markham, and Miss Millward,
were on foot, journeying far behind, or passing through distant
fields and lanes.
I have a very pleasant recollection of that walk, along the hard,
white, sunny road, shaded here and there with bright green trees,
and adorned with flowery banks and blossoming hedges of delicious
fragrance; or through pleasant fields and lanes, all glorious in
the sweet flowers and brilliant verdure of delightful May. It was
true, Eliza was not beside me; but she was with her friends in the
pony-carriage, as happy, I trusted, as I was; and even when we
pedestrians, having forsaken the highway for a short cut across the
fields, beheld the little carriage far away, disappearing amid the
green, embowering trees, I did not hate those trees for snatching
the dear little bonnet and shawl from my sight, nor did I feel that
all those intervening objects lay between my happiness and me; for,
to confess the truth, I was too happy in the company of Mrs. Graham
to regret the absence of Eliza, Millward.
The former, it is true, was most provokingly unsociable at first -
seemingly bent upon talking to no one but Mary Millward and Arthur.
She and Mary journeyed along together, generally with the child
between them; - but where the road permitted, I always walked on
the other side of her, Richard Wilson taking the other side of Miss
Millward, and Fergus roving here and there according to his fancy;
and, after a while, she became more friendly, and at length I
succeeded in securing her attention almost entirely to myself - and
then I was happy indeed; for whenever she did condescend to
converse, I liked to listen. Where her opinions and sentiments
tallied with mine, it was her extreme good sense, her exquisite
taste and feeling, that delighted me; where they differed, it was
still her uncompromising boldness in the avowal or defence of that
difference, her earnestness and keenness, that piqued my fancy:
and even when she angered me by her unkind words or looks, and her
uncharitable conclusions respecting me, it only made me the more
dissatisfied with myself for having so unfavourably impressed her,
and the more desirous to vindicate my character and disposition in
her eyes, and, if possible, to win her esteem.
At length our walk was ended. The increasing height and boldness
of the hills had for some time intercepted the prospect; but, on
gaining the summit of a steep acclivity, and looking downward, an
opening lay before us - and the blue sea burst upon our sight! -
deep violet blue - not deadly calm, but covered with glinting
breakers - diminutive white specks twinkling on its bosom, and
scarcely to be distinguished, by the keenest vision, from the
little seamews that sported above, their white wings glittering in
the sunshine: only one or two vessels were visible, and those were
far away.
I looked at my companion to see what she thought of this glorious
scene. She said nothing: but she stood still, and fixed her eyes
upon it with a gaze that assured me she was not disappointed. She
had very fine eyes, by-the-by - I don't know whether I have told
you before, but they were full of soul, large, clear, and nearly
black - not brown, but very dark grey. A cool, reviving breeze
blew from the sea - soft, pure, salubrious: it waved her drooping
ringlets, and imparted a livelier colour to her usually too pallid
lip and cheek. She felt its exhilarating influence, and so did I -
I felt it tingling through my frame, but dared not give way to it
while she remained so quiet. There was an aspect of subdued
exhilaration in her face, that kindled into almost a smile of
exalted, glad intelligence as her eye met mine. Never had she
looked so lovely: never had my heart so warmly cleaved to her as
now. Had we been left two minutes longer standing there alone, I
cannot answer for the consequences. Happily for my discretion,
perhaps for my enjoyment during the remainder of the day, we were
speedily summoned to the repast - a very respectable collation,
which Rose, assisted by Miss Wilson and Eliza, who, having shared
her seat in the carriage, had arrived with her a little before the
rest, had set out upon an elevated platform overlooking the sea,
and sheltered from the hot sun by a shelving rock and overhanging
trees.
Mrs. Graham seated herself at a distance from me. Eliza was my
nearest neighbour. She exerted herself to be agreeable, in her
gentle, unobtrusive way, and was, no doubt, as fascinating and
charming as ever, if I could only have felt it. But soon my heart
began to warm towards her once again; and we were all very merry
and happy together - as far as I could see - throughout the
protracted social meal.
When that was over, Rose summoned Fergus to help her to gather up
the fragments, and the knives, dishes, &c., and restore them to the
baskets; and Mrs. Graham took her camp-stool and drawing materials;
and having begged Miss Millward to take charge of her precious son,
and strictly enjoined him not to wander from his new guardian's
side, she left us and proceeded along the steep, stony hill, to a
loftier, more precipitous eminence at some distance, whence a still
finer prospect was to be had, where she preferred taking her
sketch, though some of the ladies told her it was a frightful
place, and advised her not to attempt it.
When she was gone, I felt as if there was to be no more fun -
though it is difficult to say what she had contributed to the
hilarity of the party. No jests, and little laughter, had escaped
her lips; but her smile had animated my mirth; a keen observation
or a cheerful word from her had insensibly sharpened my wits, and
thrown an interest over all that was done and said by the rest.
Even my conversation with Eliza had been enlivened by her presence,
though I knew it not; and now that she was gone, Eliza's playful
nonsense ceased to amuse me - nay, grew wearisome to my soul, and I
grew weary of amusing her: I felt myself drawn by an irresistible
attraction to that distant point where the fair artist sat and
plied her solitary task - and not long did I attempt to resist it:
while my little neighbour was exchanging a few words with Miss
Wilson, I rose and cannily slipped away. A few rapid strides, and
a little active clambering, soon brought me to the place where she
was seated - a narrow ledge of rock at the very verge of the cliff,
which descended with a steep, precipitous slant, quite down to the
rocky shore.
She did not hear me coming: the falling of my shadow across her
paper gave her an electric start; and she looked hastily round -
any other lady of my acquaintance would have screamed under such a
sudden alarm.
'Oh! I didn't know it was you. - Why did you startle me so?' said
she, somewhat testily. 'I hate anybody to come upon me so
unexpectedly.'
'Why, what did you take me for?' said I: 'if I had known you were
so nervous, I would have been more cautious; but - '
'Well, never mind. What did you come for? are they all coming?'
'No; this little ledge could scarcely contain them all.'
'I'm glad, for I'm tired of talking.'
'Well, then, I won't talk. I'll only sit and watch your drawing.'
'Oh, but you know I don't like that.'
'Then I'll content myself with admiring this magnificent prospect.'
She made no objection to this; and, for some time, sketched away in
silence. But I could not help stealing a glance, now and then,
from the splendid view at our feet to the elegant white hand that
held the pencil, and the graceful neck and glossy raven curls that
drooped over the paper.
'Now,' thought I, 'if I had but a pencil and a morsel of paper, I
could make a lovelier sketch than hers, admitting I had the power
to delineate faithfully what is before me.'
But, though this satisfaction was denied me, I was very well
content to sit beside her there, and say nothing.
'Are you there still, Mr. Markham?' said she at length, looking
round upon me - for I was seated a little behind on a mossy
projection of the cliff. - 'Why don't you go and amuse yourself
with your friends?'
'Because I am tired of them, like you; and I shall have enough of
them to-morrow - or at any time hence; but you I may not have the
pleasure of seeing again for I know not how long.'
'What was Arthur doing when you came away?'
'He was with Miss Millward, where you left him - all right, but
hoping mamma would not be long away. You didn't intrust him to me,
by-the-by,' I grumbled, 'though I had the honour of a much longer
acquaintance; but Miss Millward has the art of conciliating and
amusing children,' I carelessly added, 'if she is good for nothing
else.'
'Miss Millward has many estimable qualities, which such as you
cannot be expected to perceive or appreciate. Will you tell Arthur
that I shall come in a few minutes?'
'If that be the case, I will wait, with your permission, till those
few minutes are past; and then I can assist you to descend this
difficult path.'
'Thank you - I always manage best, on such occasions, without
assistance.'
'But, at least, I can carry your stool and sketch-book.'
She did not deny me this favour; but I was rather offended at her
evident desire to be rid of me, and was beginning to repent of my
pertinacity, when she somewhat appeased me by consulting my taste
and judgment about some doubtful matter in her drawing. My
opinion, happily, met her approbation, and the improvement I
suggested was adopted without hesitation.
'I have often wished in vain,' said she, 'for another's judgment to
appeal to when I could scarcely trust the direction of my own eye
and head, they having been so long occupied with the contemplation
of a single object as to become almost incapable of forming a
proper idea respecting it.'
'That,' replied I, 'is only one of many evils to which a solitary
life exposes us.'
'True,' said she; and again we relapsed into silence.
About two minutes after, however, she declared her sketch
completed, and closed the book.
On returning to the scene of our repast we found all the company
had deserted it, with the exception of three - Mary Millward,
Richard Wilson, and Arthur Graham. The younger gentleman lay fast
asleep with his head pillowed on the lady's lap; the other was
seated beside her with a pocket edition of some classic author in
his hand. He never went anywhere without such a companion
wherewith to improve his leisure moments: all time seemed lost
that was not devoted to study, or exacted, by his physical nature,
for the bare support of life. Even now he could not abandon
himself to the enjoyment of that pure air and balmy sunshine - that
splendid prospect, and those soothing sounds, the music of the
waves and of the soft wind in the sheltering trees above him - not
even with a lady by his side (though not a very charming one, I
will allow) - he must pull out his book, and make the most of his
time while digesting his temperate meal, and reposing his weary
limbs, unused to so much exercise.
Perhaps, however, he spared a moment to exchange a word or a glance
with his companion now and then - at any rate, she did not appear
at all resentful of his conduct; for her homely features wore an
expression of unusual cheerfulness and serenity, and she was
studying his pale, thoughtful face with great complacency when we
arrived.
The journey homeward was by no means so agreeable to me as the
former part of the day: for now Mrs. Graham was in the carriage,
and Eliza Millward was the companion of my walk. She had observed
my preference for the young widow, and evidently felt herself
neglected. She did not manifest her chagrin by keen reproaches,
bitter sarcasms, or pouting sullen silence - any or all of these I
could easily have endured, or lightly laughed away; but she showed
it by a kind of gentle melancholy, a mild, reproachful sadness that
cut me to the heart. I tried to cheer her up, and apparently
succeeded in some degree, before the walk was over; but in the very
act my conscience reproved me, knowing, as I did, that, sooner or
later, the tie must be broken, and this was only nourishing false
hopes and putting off the evil day.
When the pony-carriage had approached as near Wildfell Hall as the
road would permit - unless, indeed, it proceeded up the long rough
lane, which Mrs. Graham would not allow - the young widow and her
son alighted, relinquishing the driver's seat to Rose; and I
persuaded Eliza to take the latter's place. Having put her
comfortably in, bid her take care of the evening air, and wished
her a kind good-night, I felt considerably relieved, and hastened
to offer my services to Mrs. Graham to carry her apparatus up the
fields, but she had already hung her camp-stool on her arm and
taken her sketch-book in her hand, and insisted upon bidding me
adieu then and there, with the rest of the company. But this time
she declined my proffered aid in so kind and friendly a manner that
I almost forgave her.
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