'My dear Gilbert, I wish you would try to be a little more
amiable,' said my mother one morning after some display of
unjustifiable ill-humour on my part. 'You say there is nothing the
matter with you, and nothing has happened to grieve you, and yet I
never saw anyone so altered as you within these last few days. You
haven't a good word for anybody - friends and strangers, equals and
inferiors - it's all the same. I do wish you'd try to check it.'
'Check what?'
'Why, your strange temper. You don't know how it spoils you. I'm
sure a finer disposition than yours by nature could not be, if
you'd let it have fair play: so you've no excuse that way.'
While she thus remonstrated, I took up a book, and laying it open
on the table before me, pretended to be deeply absorbed in its
perusal, for I was equally unable to justify myself and unwilling
to acknowledge my errors; and I wished to have nothing to say on
the matter. But my excellent parent went on lecturing, and then
came to coaxing, and began to stroke my hair; and I was getting to
feel quite a good boy, but my mischievous brother, who was idling
about the room, revived my corruption by suddenly calling out, -
'Don't touch him, mother! he'll bite! He's a very tiger in human
form. I've given him up for my part - fairly disowned him - cast
him off, root and branch. It's as much as my life is worth to come
within six yards of him. The other day he nearly fractured my
skull for singing a pretty, inoffensive love-song, on purpose to
amuse him.'
'Oh, Gilbert! how could you?' exclaimed my mother.
'I told you to hold your noise first, you know, Fergus,' said I.
'Yes, but when I assured you it was no trouble and went on with the
next verse, thinking you might like it better, you clutched me by
the shoulder and dashed me away, right against the wall there, with
such force that I thought I had bitten my tongue in two, and
expected to see the place plastered with my brains; and when I put
my hand to my head, and found my skull not broken, I thought it was
a miracle, and no mistake. But, poor fellow!' added he, with a
sentimental sigh - 'his heart's broken - that's the truth of it -
and his head's - '
'Will you be silent NOW?' cried I, starting up, and eyeing the
fellow so fiercely that my mother, thinking I meant to inflict some
grievous bodily injury, laid her hand on my arm, and besought me to
let him alone, and he walked leisurely out, with his hands in his
pockets, singing provokingly - 'Shall I, because a woman's fair,'
&c.
'I'm not going to defile my fingers with him,' said I, in answer to
the maternal intercession. 'I wouldn't touch him with the tongs.'
I now recollected that I had business with Robert Wilson,
concerning the purchase of a certain field adjoining my farm - a
business I had been putting off from day to day; for I had no
interest in anything now; and besides, I was misanthropically
inclined, and, moreover, had a particular objection to meeting Jane
Wilson or her mother; for though I had too good reason, now, to
credit their reports concerning Mrs. Graham, I did not like them a
bit the better for it - or Eliza Millward either - and the thought
of meeting them was the more repugnant to me that I could not, now,
defy their seeming calumnies and triumph in my own convictions as
before. But to-day I determined to make an effort to return to my
duty. Though I found no pleasure in it, it would be less irksome
than idleness - at all events it would be more profitable. If life
promised no enjoyment within my vocation, at least it offered no
allurements out of it; and henceforth I would put my shoulder to
the wheel and toil away, like any poor drudge of a cart-horse that
was fairly broken in to its labour, and plod through life, not
wholly useless if not agreeable, and uncomplaining if not contented
with my lot.
Thus resolving, with a kind of sullen resignation, if such a term
may be allowed, I wended my way to Ryecote Farm, scarcely expecting
to find its owner within at this time of day, but hoping to learn
in what part of the premises he was most likely to be found.
Absent he was, but expected home in a few minutes; and I was
desired to step into the parlour and wait. Mrs. Wilson was busy in
the kitchen, but the room was not empty; and I scarcely checked an
involuntary recoil as I entered it; for there sat Miss Wilson
chattering with Eliza Millward. However, I determined to be cool
and civil. Eliza seemed to have made the same resolution on her
part. We had not met since the evening of the tea-party; but there
was no visible emotion either of pleasure or pain, no attempt at
pathos, no display of injured pride: she was cool in temper, civil
in demeanour. There was even an ease and cheerfulness about her
air and manner that I made no pretension to; but there was a depth
of malice in her too expressive eye that plainly told me I was not
forgiven; for, though she no longer hoped to win me to herself, she
still hated her rival, and evidently delighted to wreak her spite
on me. On the other hand, Miss Wilson was as affable and courteous
as heart could wish, and though I was in no very conversable humour
myself, the two ladies between them managed to keep up a pretty
continuous fire of small talk. But Eliza took advantage of the
first convenient pause to ask if I had lately seen Mrs. Graham, in
a tone of merely casual inquiry, but with a sidelong glance -
intended to be playfully mischievous - really, brimful and running
over with malice.
'Not lately,' I replied, in a careless tone, but sternly repelling
her odious glances with my eyes; for I was vexed to feel the colour
mounting to my forehead, despite my strenuous efforts to appear
unmoved.
'What! are you beginning to tire already? I thought so noble a
creature would have power to attach you for a year at least!'
'I would rather not speak of her now.'
'Ah! then you are convinced, at last, of your mistake - you have at
length discovered that your divinity is not quite the immaculate -
'
'I desired you not to speak of her, Miss Eliza.'
'Oh, I beg your pardon! I perceive Cupid's arrows have been too
sharp for you: the wounds, being more than skin-deep, are not yet
healed, and bleed afresh at every mention of the loved one's name.'
'Say, rather,' interposed Miss Wilson, 'that Mr. Markham feels that
name is unworthy to be mentioned in the presence of right-minded
females. I wonder, Eliza, you should think of referring to that
unfortunate person - you might know the mention of her would be
anything but agreeable to any one here present.'
How could this be borne? I rose and was about to clap my hat upon
my head and burst away, in wrathful indignation from the house; but
recollecting - just in time to save my dignity - the folly of such
a proceeding, and how it would only give my fair tormentors a merry
laugh at my expense, for the sake of one I acknowledged in my own
heart to be unworthy of the slightest sacrifice - though the ghost
of my former reverence and love so hung about me still, that I
could not bear to hear her name aspersed by others - I merely
walked to the window, and having spent a few seconds in vengibly
biting my lips and sternly repressing the passionate heavings of my
chest, I observed to Miss Wilson, that I could see nothing of her
brother, and added that, as my time was precious, it would perhaps
be better to call again to-morrow, at some time when I should be
sure to find him at home.
'Oh, no!' said she; 'if you wait a minute, he will be sure to come;
for he has business at L-' (that was our market-town), 'and will
require a little refreshment before he goes.'
I submitted accordingly, with the best grace I could; and, happily,
I had not long to wait. Mr. Wilson soon arrived, and, indisposed
for business as I was at that moment, and little as I cared for the
field or its owner, I forced my attention to the matter in hand,
with very creditable determination, and quickly concluded the
bargain - perhaps more to the thrifty farmer's satisfaction than he
cared to acknowledge. Then, leaving him to the discussion of his
substantial 'refreshment,' I gladly quitted the house, and went to
look after my reapers.
Leaving them busy at work on the side of the valley, I ascended the
hill, intending to visit a corn-field in the more elevated regions,
and see when it would be ripe for the sickle. But I did not visit
it that day; for, as I approached, I beheld, at no great distance,
Mrs. Graham and her son coming down in the opposite direction.
They saw me; and Arthur already was running to meet me; but I
immediately turned back and walked steadily homeward; for I had
fully determined never to encounter his mother again; and
regardless of the shrill voice in my ear, calling upon me to 'wait
a moment,' I pursued the even tenor of my way; and he soon
relinquished the pursuit as hopeless, or was called away by his
mother. At all events, when I looked back, five minutes after, not
a trace of either was to be seen.
This incident agitated and disturbed me most unaccountably - unless
you would account for it by saying that Cupid's arrows not only had
been too sharp for me, but they were barbed and deeply rooted, and
I had not yet been able to wrench them from my heart. However that
be, I was rendered doubly miserable for the remainder of the day.
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