by James Payn
CHAPTER XI.
WOOING BY PROXY.
The medical report of Marmaduke Heath was more than cheering; it wasconfident. "One of the very best features of that young man's case isthis," said Dr. Sitwell, "he does not give way. Foolish youths of hisage will sometimes, as it were, fall in love with Death, until it isabsolutely close beside them, poor fellows, when they shrink from himlike the best of us."
"You should rather say the worst of us, Dr. Sitwell," observed my tutor.
"Well, sir, as far as my experience goes," returned the doctor,cheerfully, "and I have 'assisted,' as Mr. Gerard here will haveit, at the demise of many persons of the very first respectability, fewof us are apt to welcome death; the majority, contrary to what isvulgarly believed, pay him no sort of attention whatsoever."
"And yet," remarked Mr. Harvey Gerard, slily, "he came over before theConqueror, and possesses a considerable amount of land all over thecountry."
"True, sir, true," replied the doctor, gravely; "and those areattributes which should always command respect. With regard, however, toour young patient, he seems determined, notwithstanding his sufferings,to be cheerful, and bear up. I have told him how essential it is to doso, and the young gentleman is most reasonable, I am sure. 'I do notwant to die, I wish to live,' were his very words--a most satisfactoryand sensible state of mind. Fairburn Hall--he did not say this, but Iknew what was passing through his brain quite well--Fairburn Hall, andone of the oldest baronetcies in the kingdom, are something to livefor--that is a great point in cases of this kind."
I am sure I felt thankful and glad to hear this account of my dearfriend; yet I could not help wishing that Dr. Sitwell had been ascorrect in the cause of Marmaduke's clinging to life, as in the factitself. For I too was stricken with love for Lucy Gerard, and would havelaid down my life to kiss her finger tip. It is the fashion now to jeerat that which is called First Love, as though affection were not worthhaving until it has first exhausted itself upon a score of objects; nay,perhaps, the thing itself is as extinct as the Dodo. In my day, however,the Great Three-Hundred-a-Year Marriage-Question was not yet broached,and gentlemen did not complainingly publish their rejections at thehands of the fair sex in the "Times" newspaper. Nearly half a centuryhas passed over my head since the time of which I write, and has notspared its snows, and yet, I swear to you, my old heart glows again, andon my withered cheek there comes a blush as I call, to mind the timewhen first I met that pure and fair young girl.
The worship of a lad is never lasting, it is said, although I know notupon what authority--society so seldom permitting the experiment to bemade, that the dictum can hardly be established; but while it doeslast, at least, how clear and steady is the incense! how honest is thedevotion! how complete the sacrifice! Since I have been an old fogey, ithas been confided to me by more than one ancient flirt that they stillexperience a rapture when they chance to catch the affection of a boy.They are kinder to him than they are to older men; they let him downeasy; they respect the infatuation which they themselves have long lostthe power of entertaining. How delicious, then, must such a conquest beto a maiden of seventeen! I claim for myself the possession of notenderer nor truer feelings than other lads, but I know that a queenmight have accepted the heart-homage which I paid to Lucy Gerard. Andnever was fealty more disinterested. I have written down not a little tomy discredit; let me then say this much in my own favour. From themoment that Marmaduke Heath spoke to me as he did, upon his bed ofsickness, of our host's daughter, I determined within myself not only tostand aside, and let him win her if he could, but to help him by allmeans within my power. If he lived for her alone, should I endeavour toslay him? If a promise, however distant, of a bright and happy futureseemed at length to be held out for him whose life had been so saddenedand so bitter, should I strive to make it void? I could not afford tolose her; no. I would have given all that I had in the world to hear herwhisper, "I love you;" I would have beggared myself, I say, for thosemere words; but could he, poor lad, afford the loss of her so well?
Doubtless, in modern eyes, we both appear mere foolish victims ofcalf-love; green hobbardy-hoys, dazzled with the first flutter of apetticoat. As for me, let it be so received, and welcome, although, myyoung male readers, this is to be said, You never saw Lucy Gerard.Otherwise you would wonder little at my--well, at my poor folly. Butwith respect to Marmaduke, it must be admitted that his was not anordinary case. Although a boy in years, he had long been sitting on theshores of old romance, and had probably more of the divine faculty forLove within him than all the ardent souls of five-and-thirty puttogether, who are at this moment turning their eyes about them for asuitable young person with whose income to unite their own. Since hismother died, he had scarcely beheld a virtuous woman, with the exceptionof dear Mrs. Myrtle, the housekeeper at the Rectory, whose appearancewas calculated to excite respect rather than the sentimental emotions;and now he had suddenly been brought face to face with one whose equalfor form and feature, for gentleness and graciousness, for modesty andcourage, these eyes have never yet beheld. I have done. There shall beno more ecstasies, reader; an old man thanks you that you have bornewith his doting garrulity even thus long.
Since the days of Earl Athelwold, and probably long before them, thewooing by proxy has been held to be a perilous undertaking; we cannottake the fingers of a fair lady within our own, and say, "This is not myhand at all," as though we were Bishop Berkeley; or still more, "This issomebody else's hand," which it manifestly is not. If credit is to begiven to such protestations at all, there is no knowing where to stop;and yet we must be doing something tender, or we are not performing ourduty as deputy. But how tenfold are the dangers of this enterprise, whenthe delegate of another has at one time contemplated performing themission in question upon his own account. Of this peril--although fullydetermined to speak a good word for Marmaduke--I was well aware; I evenconsidered within myself whether it would not be safer, upon the whole,to return at once to Fairburn Rectory, lest I should do my friend aninvoluntary wrong. Yes, I was walking in the garden at the Dovecot afterbreakfast, considering this, when I came upon Lucy Gerard herself, andflight became impossible to me, being mortal. I was pacing a windingpath that ran beside the lawn, but was hidden from it by a glitteringwall of laurel, and lo! there she stood, unconscious of my advent,beside--what? a statue? a sun-dial? No, a rose-tree, striving upwards byhelp of a little cross of white marble. Her face was westward, so thatthe morning sun shone like a glory on the wealth of hair that rippleddown her shoulders: beside her indoor garments she wore only a littlebraided apron, full of pockets that held scissors, pruning-knife, thething which is called "bass" I believe, and other horticulturalweapons, and on her head the tiniest straw-hat, with a brim obviouslyintended to shelter more than one--a perfect garden-saint; and at herprayers! for while I looked, she knelt upon the grass-border (to shakesome insect from a rose, I at first thought, or remove a faded leaf),and so, with bowed head, remained for several minutes. When she arose,and saw me hesitating whether to advance or retreat, she blushed alittle, but in her usual quiet tone begged me not to be disturbed. "Youcould not know that this is forbidden ground here; it was my fault, whoought to have told you; our own folks all know it, and so few guestsever come to the Dovecot, that it never struck me, Mr. Meredith, to giveyou a Trespass notice."
"But since I am here, Miss Gerard, and the intrusion has been made--mostinnocently, I assure you--may I not be suffered to satisfy what,believe me, is not a mere vulgar curiosity?"
"I do not think," returned the young lady, with some hesitation, "thatmy father would object to your knowing our little secret; you are goingto remain with us some time, he hopes, and--yes, I am sure you willrespect what with us is held so secret. This cross and rose-tree are setabove my little sister's grave. See, that is what we used to callher--LITTLE ELLA. She of whom I spoke to you in the drawing-roomyesterday."
I daresay my stupid face exhibited more of astonishment than sympathy.No wonder, thought I, that the doctor ca
lled Mr. Gerard a sectary, andthat Mr. Long was so cold and distant in his manner!
"You seem surprised, Mr. Meredith, that my father should have actedthus--should have placed the tomb of his dear child where he can alwayscome to weep and pray at it, and not amid the long dank grasses inCrittenden churchyard. Is it so very rare a thing to bury those we loveelsewhere than in a churchyard?"
"I only know one other instance," said I, "and that is in the Heathfamily."
"Indeed," replied Miss Gerard, gravely, moving away as though notwishing to converse of ordinary things in that sacred neighbourhood, "Itrust we have but little in common with them."
"Truly, I can scarcely imagine that you and they are of the samespecies," replied I, with irrepressible admiration, "you who do not evenknow what wickedness is!"
"What! I? Oh, but I am sometimes very, very wicked, I assure you,"replied Miss Gerard. She looked so serious, nay, so sad, that I couldhave taken up her little hand and kissed it, there and then, to comforther. But would such a course of conduct assist poor Marmaduke? thoughtI, and fortunately in time.
"There is one of the Heath family," said I, "at all events, whose goodqualities will go far to atone for the shortcomings of his adversaries,if he only lives to exercise them."
That "if he only lives" I considered to be very diplomatic; it wasenlisting a tender sympathy for his perilous condition to start with.
"Dr. Sitwell says that there is little danger," replied Miss Gerard,quietly.
"I know better," observed I, confidentially; "his life or death hangsupon a thread, a chance."
"Good heavens! Mr. Meredith, what can you mean? The brain, we areassured, is quite uninjured."
"My dear Miss Gerard," returned I, "it is not his brain that isaffected; it is his heart. His recovery, I am positively certain,depends upon you."
"Upon me! Mr. Meredith?" replied she, while a blush sprung from neck toforehead on the instant, as though a white rose should become a redone--"upon me?"
"Yes, dear young lady; that is, upon you and your good father. This ladwill find here, for the first time in his young life, peace andtenderness--a new existence, if you only choose, will expand around him,such as he has never even dreamt of. I do not ask you to be kind to him,for you cannot be otherwise than kind; but consider his sadcondition--fatherless, motherless, and having for his only relative awretch whose atrocity is unspeakable, what reason has he to wish forlife? But you, you may teach him to feel that existence has somethingelse to offer than sorrow, and shame, and fear."
"Alas, sir! I am nothing," returned Miss Gerard. "But if your frienddesire a teacher to whom fear and shame are unknown, and whom sorrow hasrendered wise, not sad, he will find one in my dear father. Oh, Mr.Meredith, if you knew him as I know him, how tender he is as well asstrong, you would go straight to him! What I have of help within me,if I have anything, is derived from him alone."
"There are some maladies," said I, "against which not the most skilfulphysician can avail without a gentle nurse to smooth the pillow. I amsure I need say no more, except to assure you that what ever kindoffices you may bestow upon Marmaduke Heath, will not be wasted upon anunworthy object. He is most honourable, generous, warm-hearted--"
"And very fortunate," interrupted Miss Gerard, cordially, "in having afriend to be thus enthusiastic for him in his absence!"
Her eyes sparkled with pleasure; and she held out her hand frankly asshe spoke. I took it, and pressed it for an instant. A shock of joypassed through my frame; my whole being trembled with ecstasy. Passiontook me by storm, and for one glorious moment held the very citadel ofmy soul; but it was for the last time, believe me, Marmaduke, the lasttime in all my life. Fifty years have come and gone, with their fullshare of pleasure and pain, but have never brought a moment of blisslike that, nor such icy despair as the thought of thee, my friend,caused to succeed it!
I write not in self-praise. I was not so mad as to suppose that LucyGerard would have ever stooped to love Peter Meredith when once she hadknown Marmaduke Heath. If he had so endeared himself to me, a selfishboy, who knew not half his gifts, or, at least, knew not how to valuethem--that I thus rudely broke my own brief love-dream for his sake,would he not draw her towards him, laden with all her wealth of heartand brain, as the moon draws the wave! It was so afterwards; but I knewit then, as though it had already been. Yet, Marmaduke, yet I gave yousomething, for it was all I had, when I laid at your feet, to form astepping-stone for you, my own heart. You trod upon it, my dear andfaithful friend--But, thank heaven! you never knew that you did so. Iwonder whether Lucy ever knew!
