Throckmorton: A Novel

by Molly Elliot Seawell

  CHAPTER VIII.

  A day or two after this, however, came a snow, deep and lasting, morelike a midwinter snow in New England than a December flurry in lowerVirginia. For four weeks the sun scarcely shone, and the earth waswrapped in white. The roads were impassable, the river-steamers stoppedrunning, and the mails were delayed for days at a time. The countrypeople were much cut off from each other. Mrs. Temple missed foursuccessive Sundays at church--a thing she had never done in her lifebefore. Nobody could get to Barn Elms except the Throckmortons andFreke, but they came often in the evenings. Throckmorton saw what wasbefore him with Jacqueline, yet held back, as engineers put down thebrakes on a wild engine on a down grade--it does not, however,materially alter the result. He sometimes thought, with a sense of thegrotesqueness of human affairs, how strange it was that things had notarranged themselves so that Jack had not been Jacqueline's victim, andhimself Judith's. For Jack was undeniably fond of Jacqueline, and so fardid not in the slightest degree suspect his father's infatuation, asThrockmorton frankly and bitterly acknowledged it to be. As for Judith,Nature leaves no true woman unarmed for suffering like hers. EvenJacqueline, who was sharp-eyed, only noticed that Judith at this timewas, if anything, a little sweeter and kinder than before--even a littlemore gay. Little Beverley found his mother better company than usual,and more ready for a romp than ever before. The child, whom she hadthought everything to her before, became now more passionately dear toher. Alone with him, she would take him in her arms and hold him closeto her; she felt an actual softening of the pain at her heart when thechild's curly head rested over it. Then she would talk to him in a waythe child only half understood, as he gazed at her with grave, mystifiedeyes, and, while laughing at his childish wonder, she would almostsmother him with kisses. Judith was positively becoming merry. In hervoice was a ring, in her eyes a light that was different from that calm,untroubled composure that had once marked her. Her manner toThrockmorton was perfect; the same gentle gayety, the same gracefuldignity. She did not avoid him; pain wrung no such concession fromJudith Temple. But Judith's invincible cheerfulness was strangelyantagonized by Jacqueline. Jacqueline, who talked to her own heart in avery primitive, open fashion, was vexed at the notion that, in order tobe mistress of Millenbeck, she would have to marry Throckmorton. Howmuch nicer, thought Jacqueline, with great simplicity, if it were Jackwho gave her those looks, those words, who had pressed that kiss uponher hand! Throckmorton was too old, and had too much sense; Jacquelinemade no secret in acknowledging that mature men of sense bored andrestrained her. It was very hard, she thought, disconsolately. Eversince that dinner at Millenbeck, Barn Elms had appeared shabbier andsorrier than ever before. Although Mrs. Temple continued to have fivekinds of bread for breakfast, and had invited a regiment of poorrelations to spend the coming summer with her, under the Virginiadelusion that it costs nothing to harbor a garrison for an indefinitetime, things were certainly going very badly at Barn Elms; a conditionof affairs, though, to which General Temple was perfectly accustomed,and who knew no other way of paying Peter than by robbing Paul. The oldcarriage went all to pieces just about that time, and there was no moneyto buy another one. As for a new piano, that was an impossible dream;and there were two splendid new pianos at Millenbeck, and not a soul totouch them! And Jacqueline wanted a new frock, and endless other things,which were distinctly out of the question, and the only way to get them,that she could see, was to encourage Throckmorton's attentions and bemistress of Millenbeck. All this was not lost on Freke, who, with hiseyes open, began to play with Jacqueline, and like Throckmorton got hiswings scorched. The girl certainly had a power of compelling love. HadJudith ever relented toward Freke, Jacqueline would have had cause forjealousy if she loved him. But, in truth, as it came to pass, Freke castas much of a spell upon Jacqueline as she did upon him. If Freke ownedMillenbeck, instead of that wretched old Wareham, that actually was notas good as Barn Elms! So Jacqueline fretted to herself.

  The loneliness of those cold, snowy days was killing to Jacqueline. Thelong afternoons when she sat by the drawing-room fire and dreameddreams, were almost intolerable to her. When she heard Beverley'sshouts, as Judith romped with him in the cold hall, and hid from him inthe dusk until the child set up a baby cry, it was the only livingcheerful noise about the house. Judith would come to her and say, "Now,Jacky, for a walk in the hall!" Jacqueline would answer fretfully:

  "What do I want to walk for?"

  "Because it is better than sitting still."

  Judith would take her by the waist and run her up and down the long,dusky hall. It was so cold they shivered at first, and the rattling ofthe great windows let icy gusts of air in upon them; and sometimes themoon would glare in at them in a ghastly way. Presently they would hearSimon Peter bringing in wood for the night by the back way, shaking thesnow off his feet, and announcing to Delilah: "I tell you what, ole'oman, 'tis everlastin' cole an' gwine ter keep so, fer I seed de hossesin de stable kickin' de lef' hine-foots; an' dat's sho' an' suttin signo' freezin'."

  "You better kick dat lef' hine-foot o' yourn, an' stop studyin' 'bout dehosses, fo' mistis come arter you! Ez long ez ole marse holler at you,you doan' min'; but jes' let mistis in dat sof' voice say right fine,'Simon Peter!' I lay you jes' hop," was Delilah's wifely reply.

  General Temple, confined to the house by the weather, drew military mapswith great precision, and worked hard upon his History of Temple'sBrigade. The fact that he knew much more about the Duke of Marlborough'scampaigns, or Prince Eugene's, or anybody's, in fact, than he did aboutany he had been directly engaged in, in no wise set him back. Mrs.Temple, who thought the general a prodigy of military science, wasrejoiced that he had something to divert him through the long wintrydays, when Barn Elms was as completely shut in from even the littleneighborhood world as if it were in the depths of a Russian forest. JackThrockmorton, who after a while began to see that the major wascertainly singed, as he expressed it to himself, did not carry out hisusual tactics of making his vicinity too hot for his father, but when hewished to see Jacqueline went over in the mornings. If the weather wastolerable, they were pretty sure to find their way to the ice-pond.Jack, carrying on his arm a little wooden chair, and putting Jacquelinein it, would push it over the ice before him as he sped along on skates.Then Jacqueline's fresh, young laugh would ring out shrilly--then shewas happy. Sometimes Judith and Throckmorton, smiling, would watch them.Jack liked Mrs. Beverley immensely, but he confided to Jacqueline thathe was a little afraid of her--just as Jacqueline candidly admitted shewas in awe of Major Throckmorton. Throckmorton, watching this childishboy and girl fun, would sometimes laugh inwardly and grimly at himself.How true was it, as Mrs. Sherrard had said, that Jacqueline would make agood playmate for Jack! And then he would turn to Judith, and try topersuade himself of her sweetness and truth. But love comes not bypersuasion.

  Jack had been giving Jacqueline glowing accounts of the sleigh-rides hehad had in the Northwest. Jacqueline was crazy for a sleigh-ride, butthere was no such thing as a sleigh in the county. One evening, aftertea, as Jacqueline sat dolefully clasping her knees and looking in thefire, and Judith, with hands locked in her lap, was doing the same; Mrs.Temple knitting placidly by the lamp, while General Temple held forthon certain blunders he had discovered in the Retreat of the TenThousand--a strange tinkling sound was heard far--far away--almost as ifit were in another world! Jacqueline sat perfectly still and gazed intoJudith's eyes. Judith got up and went into the hall. A great patch ofmoonlight shone through the uncurtained window, and outside it wasalmost as light as day. The limbs and trunks of the great live-oakslooked preternaturally dark against the white earth and the blue-black,star-lit sky. Suddenly Simon Peter's head appeared cautiously around thecorner of the house, and in a minute or two he came up the back way andplanted himself at Judith's elbow.

  "Gord A'mighty, Miss Judy, what dat ar'? What dem bells ringin' fur? I'spect de evils is 'broad. I done see two Jack-my-lanterns dis heahnight."

  Judith fixed her eye
s on the long, straight lane bordered with solemncedars; she saw a dark object moving along, and heard the sharp click ofhorses' shoes on the frozen snow.

  "It's somebody coming," she said, and in a moment, she cried outjoyfully:

  "O Jacky, come--come! it's a sleigh--I see Jack Throckmortondriving--Major Throckmorton is there--and there are four seats!"

  Jacqueline jumped up and ran out. She had never seen a sleigh in herlife, and there it was turning into the drive before the house. Jack hadthe reins, and the major's two thoroughbreds were flying along at arattling pace, and the bells were jingling loudly and merrily.Jacqueline almost danced with delight. By the time the sleigh drew up atthe door, Simon Peter was there to take the reins, and Throckmorton andJack jumped out and came up the steps. The general and Mrs. Temple werealso roused to come out and meet them. As the hall-door swung open, ablast of arctic air entered. Throckmorton's dark eyes looked black underhis seal-skin cap. Jack plunged into business at once.

  "Now, Mrs. Temple, you must let me take Miss Jacqueline for a spinto-night; never saw better sleighing in my life. The major's along, andyou know he is as steady as old Time"--the major at heart did not relishthis--"and, if Mrs. Beverley will go, it will be awfully jolly."

  Mrs. Temple began some mild protest: it was too cold, or too late, orsomething; but for once Jacqueline did not hear her, and bounded offup-stairs for her wraps. Even Judith, usually so calm, was a littlecarried away by the prospect.

  "Come, mother, Major Throckmorton and I will take care of them."

  Mrs. Temple yielded.

  "I will take care of Beverley while you are gone," she said, and Judithblushed. Was she forgetting the child?

  In five minutes both of them were ready. Judith had pressed her softcheeks to Beverley's as she leaned over the sleeping child. Surelynobody could say she was a forgetful mother.

  The sleigh was Jack's. He had sent away and bought it, and it hadarrived that evening. Jacqueline sat on the front seat with him, herface glowing with smiles on the clear, cold night, as he wrapped the furrobes around her. Throckmorton did the same for Judith. For once she hadleft off her widow's veil, and for once she forgot that secret pain anddetermined to be happy. Jack touched up the horses, and off they flew.As for Jacqueline and himself, their pleasure was of that youthful,effervescing sort that never comes after twenty-five; but Throckmortonand Judith began to feel some of the exhilaration and excitement.Throckmorton had lately heard Mrs. Sherrard's views about Judith'smarriage, and it had made him feel a very great pity for her.

  "Where are we going?" cried Jacqueline, as they dashed along.

  "Anywhere--nowhere--to Turkey Thicket!" replied Jack, lightly touchingthe flying horses with his whip.

  "We will frighten Mrs. Sherrard to death!" said Judith, from the backseat, burying her face in her muff.

  It was not a time to think about anybody else, though. The five milesto Turkey Thicket sped away like lightning. When they dashed through thegate and drew up before the house, half a dozen darkies were theregaping; and Mrs. Sherrard, with a shawl thrown over her head, wasstanding in the doorway, and standing behind her was Freke.

  As they all got out, laughing, huddling, and slipping up the stonesteps, Mrs. Sherrard greeted them with her characteristic cordiality,demanding that they should take off their wraps before they were half upthe steps. She gave Throckmorton a comical look, and whispered to him ashe shook hands with her: "Out with the Sister of Charity, hey? Or is itthe child Jacky?" Throckmorton laughed rather uneasily. He had never gotover that remark of Mrs. Sherrard's about Jacqueline being a playmatefor Jack.

  They all went trooping into the dining-room, where a huge fire blazed.Mrs. Sherrard called up her factotum, a venerable negro woman, Delilah'sdouble, and in ten minutes they were sitting around the table laughingand eating and drinking. The colored factotum had brought out a largeyellow bowl, a big, flat, blue dish, and a rusty bottle. Eggs and milkfollowed.

  "Egg-nog," whispered Jack to Jacqueline.

  So it was. Freke broke up the eggs, and Mrs. Sherrard, with a greatcarving-knife, beat up the whites, while she talked and occasionallyflourished the knife uncomfortably near Freke's nose. Throckmortonpoured in the rum and brandy with such liberality that Judith with greatfirmness took both bottles away from him. The egg-nog was a capitalbrew. Then Freke produced his violin, and saying, "Hang your Brahms andBeethovens!" dashed into waltzes of Strauss and Waldteufel that made thevery air vibrate with joy and gayety and rhythm. Jack seized Jacqueline,and, opening the door, they flew out into the half-lighted hall and spunaround delightedly. As Freke's superb bow-arm flashed back and forth,and the torrent of melody poured out of the violin, his eyes flashed,too. He did not mean to play always for Jacqueline to dance.

  Judith, standing at the door, watched the two young figures whirlingmerrily around in the half-light to the resounding waltz-music. She wasaltogether taken by surprise when Throckmorton came up to her, and said,half laughing and half embarrassed:

  "My dancing days are over, but that waltz is charming."

  Judith did not quite take in what he meant, but without a word heclasped her waist, and she was gliding off with him. Throckmorton wouldhave scorned the characterization of a "dancing man," but neverthelesshe danced well, and Judith moved like a breeze. She went around the bighall once--twice--before the idea that it was inconceivably wicked ofher to dance with Throckmorton came to her; not, indeed, until she sawFreke's wide mouth expanded into a smile that was infuriating. And then,what would Mrs. Temple say to her dancing at all?

  "Oh, pray, stop!" she cried, blushing furiously. "I can't dance anymore; I ought never to have begun. I haven't danced for--for years."

  Throckmorton stopped at once, with pity in his eyes. He suspected thesort of angelic dragooning to which she was subject from his dear Mrs.Temple.

  "Why shouldn't you dance?" he said. "I see you like it. Come, let's tryit again. I'm a little rusty, perhaps, but we got on famously just now."But Judith would not try it again.

  Freke now meant to have his innings.

  "Do you know this is Twelfth-night--the night for telling fortunes?" hesaid, laying down his violin.--"Come, Jacky, let me take you out ofdoors and show you the moon and tell yours."

  "In this snow!" screamed Mrs. Sherrard; but by that time Freke hadthrown a shawl over Jacqueline's head, and had dragged her out of theroom, and the hall-door banged loudly after them.

  Outside, in the cold, white moonlight and the snow, Freke pointed to themoon.

  "Now make your wish," he said; "but don't wish for Millenbeck."

  Jacqueline's face could turn no redder than it was, but she looked atFreke, and answered on impulse, as she always did:

  "Millenbeck is finer than Barn Elms--"

  "Or Wareham," responded Freke, fixing her attention with a stare out ofhis bold eyes. "See here, Jacqueline, I know how it is. You think youwill be able to put up with Throckmorton for the sake of Millenbeck. Mydear, he is old--"

  "He is only forty-four," answered Jacqueline, defiantly.

  "And you are only twenty-one. You would be happier even at Wareham withme, than at Millenbeck with Throckmorton."

  "I couldn't be happy in a five-roomed house," quite truthfully saidJacqueline.

  "Yes, you could. I could make you forget whether it had five or tenrooms."

  At this, he put two fingers under her chin, and, tilting up her rosyface, kissed her on the mouth. "Come!" cried Freke, after a littlewhile, remembering how time was flying, which Jacqueline had evidentlyforgotten, and making for the steps; but Jacqueline stopped him with ascared face.

  "Aren't you married, Freke?" she asked.

  "Not a bit of it," answered Freke, stoutly. "Don't you believe all theold women's tales you hear about me, Jacky. I'm no more married than youare this minute. I have been, I admit, but I slipped my head out of thenoose some time ago. Do you believe me?"

  "Yes," answered Jacqueline, who could believe anything, "if--if--peoplecan really be divorced."


  They had not been gone ten minutes, when they returned, yet Freke saw adanger-signal flying in Judith's cheeks. She did not mean to have anymore of this. Mrs. Sherrard, who had become an active partisan ofFreke's, asked, as soon as they came in:

  "What wish did you make, Jacky?"

  Jacqueline started. She had made no wish at all.

  "Freke ran me out of the house so fast," she began complainingly, "I wasperfectly out of breath."

  "And of course couldn't make a wish," said Jack Throckmorton, laughing.

  "I wished for everything," replied Jacqueline.

  Presently they were driving home through the still, frosty night. Judithfelt a complete reaction from the ghost of merriment that had possessedher in going that road before. Even Throckmorton noticed the change. Shelaughed and talked gayly, but her speaking eyes told another story.Throckmorton could not but smile, and yet felt sorry, too, whenJacqueline, fancying herself unheard, whispered to Judith:

  "I won't tell mamma about the waltz."

  But Jacqueline was absent-minded too. When they had got home and hadgone up-stairs, instead of Jacqueline following Judith to her room, asshe usually did when she had anything on her mind, she went straight toher own room, and, locking the door, began to walk up and down, herhands behind her back. How strange, fascinating, overpowering was Freke,after all! Was a divorced man really a married man? Divorces weredreadful things, she had always known--but--suppose, in some other worldthan that about the Severn neighborhood, it should be considered avenial thing? Jacqueline became so much interested in these puzzlingreflections that she unconsciously abandoned the cat-like tread whichshe had adopted for fear of waking her mother, and stepped out in herown brisk way up and down the big room. Mrs. Temple, hearing this,quietly opened her own chamber-door beneath. That was enough. The walkstopped as if by magic, and in ten minutes Jacqueline was in bed.