CHAPTER XVII.
PRODIGAL SONS.
"But by all thy nature's weakness, Hidden faults and follies known, Be thou in rebuking evil, Conscious of thy own."--_Whittier_.
It was some few weeks before Mr. Gaythorne was allowed to see any one,and then Olivia was his first visitor. To her great surprise he hadasked for her.
"I think I can trust you," Marcus said to her; but there was a trace ofanxiety in his manner that did not escape her. "You must talk to him,of course; but you must be very careful not to agitate him; he wantsall his strength for to-morrow;" for on the following day father andson were to meet again.
Olivia felt a little nervous. Marcus's professional gravity frightenedher.
"Do you not think it would be better for me to wait a day or two," sheasked. "It is very nice of him to want to see me, but it seems to methat Mr. Alwyn ought to be his first visitor;" but although Marcusagreed with her, he said that Mr. Gaythorne had expressed such a strongwish to see her first, that he dared not refuse him.
"He was never fond of contradiction," he returned. "And we should onlyexcite him if we opposed his wish. Although he is quite himself,little things irritate him; don't make yourself nervous beforehand; youwill say the right thing when the time comes for saying it;" and,though Olivia could not be sure of this, she felt that it was sensibleadvice.
But when the moment came and she saw how shrunken and aged the invalidlooked, and heard the slight hesitation in his speech as he held outhis hands to her with a pathetic smile, Olivia's warm womanly naturewas not at fault, for she bent over him and kissed his cheek as adaughter might have done.
"Dear Mr. Gaythorne," she said, earnestly, "if you knew how thankful weall are that you are better."
"Thank you, thank you," he said, with a faint flush of pleasure. "Youspeak kindly and as though you meant it. Sit down, my dear, we musthave a little talk together, you and I. If I ever get my boy back, ifthe breach between us is ever healed, it will be owing to you and Dr.Luttrell."
"Oh, please do not say that, we were only the means under Providence."
"Yes, yes," with a touch of impatience--"I am not forgetting that. Insome ways I am a civilised heathen; but I have never omitted myprayers, thank God. 'He loveth best who prayeth best.' Who said that,Mrs. Luttrell? Perhaps I never prayed enough, or my boy would not havewandered so far. Ah, well, do you remember how hard I was on you forsheltering tramps, and now I can only say, God bless you for yourdivine charity."
Olivia's eyes glistened, but she only pressed his hand inacknowledgment of this. "And to-morrow you are to see him," she said,softly.
"Yes, to-morrow," he repeated slowly, "that is why I must not talk muchto-day; but I wanted to thank you for bringing Alwyn, and to tell youhow grateful I am to you both.
"I am an old man," he continued, "old in sorrows more than in years;for, with Jacob, I can truly say that 'few and evil have been myyears.' Oh, Mrs. Luttrell, my dear, take warning by me; you have alittle one of your own, and perhap in future years you may have sonsgrowing up beside you, never for one instant let anything come betweenyou and them."
He paused for a moment and then went on: "When Alwyn was a littlechild, I simply worshipped him; his own mother begged me with tears inher eyes not to set my heart so much on him. He was delicate, and Iknew what she meant, that she feared whether we should rear him; and Iremember, as she said this, that I struck my hand passionately againsthis little cot, 'if that boy dies I shall never hold up my head again;'how well I remember that speech. Oh, my dear, the time came when Iwished that I had no son, when the sharpness of the serpent's toothentered my very vitals. God grant that you and Dr. Luttrell may neverhave to blush for a son's misdoings."
"Dear friend, remember you are not to agitate yourself."
"No, no, I will take care; but I think it does me good to talk alittle; the steam must have vent, you know, and I have kept silence forso many years. All these weeks they have kept my boy from me; but theywere right," his voice trembling with weakness. "I could not haveborne it, neither could Alwyn. Ah, how changed and ill he looked."
"Dear Mr. Gaythorne," returned Olivia, beseechingly, "indeed I must goaway now, unless you will consent to rest and let me read to you alittle."
"Well, well, do as you like," he replied, closing his eyes, "you alltyrannise over the sick man, but perhaps I am a bit tired," and thenOlivia found a book and soon had the satisfaction of seeing him sinkinto a peaceful sleep. What a grand face it looked with its finechiselled features and grey peaked beard lying against the dark redcushions. Alwyn would never be such a handsome man as his father,Olivia thought. There was power and intellect on the broad forehead,the thin lips and obstinate chin were hidden under the drooping greymoustache.
Olivia sat by him for some time, and then softly left the room. WhenMarcus had paid his evening visit he was able to assure her that herlittle visit had done his patient no harm.
Mr. Gaythorne had stipulated that he should see his son alone, but Dr.Luttrell, who was keenly alive to the danger of any strong excitement,had decided to remain in the house during the interview.
Alwyn seemed so unnerved and miserable that it was impossible to domore than give him a word of warning.
"Say as little as possible, Gaythorne," he had observed as they walkedacross together; "if you take my advice, you will just let bygones bebygones. Don't be more emotional than you can help; remember how illhe has been, very little excites him."
And though Alwyn only nodded in answer to this, Marcus was sure that heunderstood him; but as he stood by the hall fire caressing Eros hecould not help feeling very anxious.
"They are neither of them to be trusted," he thought, and he determinedthat if the talk were too prolonged he would make some excuse to go inand interrupt them; then he raised his head uneasily and listened asthe sound of a man's stifled sobs reached his ear.
It was what he had feared, that Alwyn, weak and unstrung, would breakdown utterly, and the next moment Dr. Luttrell had opened the door ofthe library.
Neither of them perceived him as he stood for a moment, watching themwith keen professional eyes. Alwyn was kneeling with his face hiddenon his father's knees, and Mr. Gaythorne's clasped hands were restingon his head. "My boy, we must both say it," he whispered. "Forgive usour trespasses as we forgive them"--but Marcus heard no more, he closedthe door again softly--the scene was too sacred--not even to his dearerself--his wife--did he ever speak of what he had seen.
The Prodigal had eaten his fill of husks and had returned to hisfather's roof and his father's love. But in this case the father hadalso sinned, for surely undue severity and exacting hardness andfailure of sympathy are sins to be bitterly repented. No one cangather grapes of thorns, or glean corn from a harvest of tares. And noparent who has first unwisely indulged his son, and then ruled him witha rod of iron, can well claim the glad obedience of a free son.
If Alwyn Gaythorne, trammelled and embittered by his father's tyranny,had dashed recklessly down the path that leads to destruction, hisfather had first driven him to the verge of frenzy.
Young limbs will not always adjust themselves to the Procrustean bed.Alwyn, who had inherited his father's strong will, refused to bear theyoke of his despotism.
"I would rather starve, and have room to breathe," he had once said toGreta. "There is no room here."
Another half-hour passed before Dr. Luttrell ventured into the roomagain. He found Mr. Gaythorne leaning back in his chair looking verywhite and exhausted, but with a peaceful expression on his face. Alwynhad just left his side and was standing by the window with a miniaturein his hand.
"Dr. Luttrell," observed the old man feebly, as he gave him somerestorative, "my son will stay with me to-night." And then Alwynflushed as he met the doctor's eyes.
"He wishes it very much, and perhaps it will be better," he said in alow voice. "Will you explain how it is to Mrs. Luttrell? I will seeher tomorrow."
"Very well, but
there must be no more talking to-night. If you will gointo the next room I will see you presently," and Alwyn nodded.
"It is all right, happiness never kills," observed Mr. Gaythorne, "andfor the matter of that, grief, either. We must just bide our time."Then with a flash of strong feeling in the deeply-set eyes, he held outhis hand to the young doctor.
"God bless you, Luttrell. He says you have been like a brother to him.And as for your wife, he has no words for her goodness. May Heavenrepay you both for what you have done for me and my boy."
When Marcus returned home he found Greta sitting with his wife; theyboth looked at him anxiously.
"Mr. Gaythorne will not part with his son," he informed them. "Mrs.Crampton is getting a room ready for him, so your labours will belightened, Livy. She looks tired, does she not, Miss Williams? thoughshe will not confess it. Well, it has all passed off well. Mr.Gaythorne is very much exhausted, but nurse is getting him to bed, andI have told Alwyn to rest. I left Mrs. Crampton fussing round him, sohe will be all right," and then Olivia smiled as though she weresatisfied.
But more than once that evening she observed to Marcus how quiet thehouse seemed without their guest.
"Do you know I quite miss him," she said. "I suppose one always getattached to any one for whom one takes trouble. He was the sort ofperson who was always wanting something; you could never forget him fora moment. I wonder what Martha will say when I tell her he is goneaway for good. He gave her plenty to do, but I expect she will besorry to lose him."
And Olivia was right. Martha burst out crying in quite a lamentablemanner.
"Oh, ma'am," she sobbed, "and he was such a kind young gentleman. I amsorry, that I am, that he won't live with us no more. And he paintedMiss Baby and the kitten so beautiful too; and he thought such a dealof you and master." But though Olivia smiled at Martha's lugubriousspeeches, she could not help being rather sorry herself.
Alwyn was not a perfect character by any means, but somehow he had suchnice ways with him,--little caressing ways that go to a woman's heart.His nature was affectionate and emotional, and all his troubles had nothardened him. Even Marcus had observed more than once lately that "hecould not help liking the fellow."
"He was not cut out for a black sheep," he said once, "and thecharacter does not suit him. He has the makings of a good man, only hehas let himself drift so terribly. Well, he has pulled himself up intime. He could not have roughed it much longer."
When Olivia returned from her next visit to Galvaston House she wentstraight to Marcus.
"I just felt I must come and tell you all about it," she said in herenthusiastic manner. "I have had such a happy afternoon. Mr. Alwynwas reading to his father when I went in, and they both looked socomfortable and contented. They made me stay and pour out their coffeefor them. At first Mr. Alwyn wanted to leave us; he declared that twowas company and three none, and that he was only in the way; but ofcourse I would not hear of that, and I was so glad to see him too."
"They both looked so comfortable and contented."]
"He is his father's right hand already, and does all sorts of thingsfor him. It is so lovely to see them together. When he went out ofthe room for a moment, Mr. Gaythorne told me that he could scarcelyrealise sometimes that it was Alwyn."
"He has just Olive's ways," had been Mr. Gaythorne's words. "I couldalmost fancy it was my little Olive near me. If he were only strongerI should not have a wish ungratified, but I cannot help troubling abouthis cough. Dr. Luttrell thinks a sea voyage would do him good, but Ido not know how I am to bring myself to part with him.
"Oh, by-the-bye, did Alwyn tell you that Greta Williams is coming tosee us? She was my Olive's friend, so of course she will be welcome,"and then, in rather a meaning voice, "I rather think she is Alwyn'sfriend too."
Olivia made no answer to this remark, but more than once lately she hadnoticed that Greta and Alwyn seemed very much engrossed with eachother, and she was almost sure that Marcus had noticed it too.
"Surely Greta would never consent to marry him," she thought. "Withher sad experience she would never venture to link her life with a manwhom she could not wholly respect."
Greta's nature was a noble one. She had lofty aims and a high sense ofduty. In spite of her gentleness she had plenty of firmness andbackbone.
It was one thing to be sorry for her old friend and playmate, and toshow him a sister's tenderness, but quite another to give herself tohim, and more than once Olivia had felt uneasy, but delicacy had ledher to keep her thoughts to herself.
"I do hope she would not carry self-sacrifice to such a length asthat," said the young wife to herself. "Alwyn may be lovable, but hewould never satisfy a girl like Greta. A woman ought to be able tolook up to her husband, as I look up to my dear Marcus, and not bealways trying to drag him up to her level.
"I do want Greta to be married. When her father dies she will be soutterly alone, but I cannot reconcile myself to her marrying AlwynGaythorne. For one thing, his health is so unsatisfactory that hiswife would never be easy about him. Eyen Marcus owned the other daythat he feared he would never be fit for much. But there is no use intrying to manage other people's lives. As Aunt Madge says, it takesall our strength and cleverness to manage our own. 'A meddler isalways a muddler;' how well I remember her saying that. We did notmake the world, and we cannot rule the world. When I see grown-up folktrying to arrange for other people, I always think of children playingat snap-dragon. One gets one's fingers burnt so badly when we try topull out our neighbour's plum. No, no; bearing other people's burdensnever meant that."
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