Tommy and Grizel

by J. M. Barrie

  CHAPTER XI

  THE TEA-PARTY

  It was quite a large tea-party, and was held in what had been theschool-room; nothing there now, however, to recall an academic past,for even the space against which a map of the world (Mercator'sprojection) had once hung was gone the colour of the rest of thewalls, and with it had faded away the last relic of the Hanky School.

  "It will not fade so quickly from my memory," Tommy said, to pleaseMrs. McLean. His affection for his old schoolmistress was as sincereas hers for him. I could tell you of scores of pretty things he haddone to give her pleasure since his return, all carried out, too, witha delicacy which few men could rival, and never a woman; but theymight make you like him, so we shall pass them by.

  Ailie said, blushing, that she had taught him very little. "EverythingI know," he replied, and then, with a courteous bow to the gentlemanopposite, "except what I learned from Mr. Cathro."

  "Thank you," Cathro said shortly. Tommy had behaved splendidly to him,and called him his dear preceptor, and yet the Dominie still itched tobe at him with the tawse as of old. "And fine he knows I'm itching,"he reflected, which made him itch the more.

  It should have been a most successful party, for in the rehearsalsbetween the hostess and her maid Christina every conceivabledifficulty had been ironed out. Ailie was wearing her black silk, butwithout the Honiton lace, so that Miss Sophia Innes need not becomedepressed; and she had herself taken the chair with the weak back. Mr.Cathro, who, though a lean man, needed a great deal of room at table,had been seated far away from the spinet, to allow Christina to passhim without climbing. Miss Sophia and Grizel had the doctor betweenthem, and there was also a bachelor, but an older one, for Elspeth.Mr. McLean, as stout and humoursome as of yore, had solemnly promisedhis wife to be jocular but not too jocular. Neither minister couldcomplain, for if Mr. Dishart had been asked to say grace, Mr. Gloagknew that he was to be called on for the benediction. Christina,obeying strict orders, glided round the table leisurely, as if shewere not in the least excited, though she could be heard rushingalong the passage like one who had entered for a race. And, lastly,there was, as chief guest, the celebrated Thomas Sandys. It shouldhave been a triumph of a tea-party, and yet it was not. Mrs. McLeancould not tell why.

  Grizel could have told why; her eyes told why every time they restedscornfully on Mr. Sandys. It was he, they said, who was spoiling theentertainment, and for the pitiful reason that the company were notmaking enough of him. He was the guest of the evening, but they weretalking admiringly of another man, and so he sulked. Oh, how shescorned Tommy!

  That other man was, of course, the unknown Captain Ure, gallantrescuer of boys, hero of all who admire brave actions except thejealous Sandys. Tommy had pooh-poohed him from the first, to Grizel'sunutterable woe.

  "Have you not one word of praise for such a splendid deed?" she hadasked in despair.

  "I see nothing splendid about it," he replied coldly.

  "I advise you in your own interests not to talk in that way toothers," she said. "Don't you see what they will say?"

  "I can't help that," answered Tommy the just. "If they ask my opinion,I must give them the truth. I thought you were fond of the truth,Grizel." To that she could only wring her hands and say nothing; butit had never struck her that the truth could be so bitter.

  And now he was giving his opinion at Mrs. McLean's party, and theywere all against him, except, in a measure, Elspeth's bachelor, whosaid cheerily, "We should all have done it if we had been in CaptainUre's place; I would have done it myself, Miss Elspeth, though notfond of the water." He addressed all single ladies by their Christianname with a Miss in front of it. This is the mark of the confirmedbachelor, and comes upon him at one-and-twenty.

  "I could not have done it," Grizel replied decisively, though she wasmuch the bravest person present, and he explained that he meant themen only. His name was James Bonthron; let us call him Mr. James.

  "Men are so brave!" she responded, with her eyes on Tommy, and hereceived the stab in silence. Had the blood spouted from the wound, itwould have been an additional gratification to him. Tommy was likethose superb characters of romance who bare their breast to the enemyand say, "Strike!"

  "Well, well," Mr. Cathro observed, "none of us was on the spot, and sowe had no opportunity of showing our heroism. But you were near by,Mr. Sandys, and if you had fished up the water that day, instead ofdown, you might have been called upon. I wonder what you would havedone?"

  Yes, Tommy was exasperating to him still as in the long ago, andCathro said this maliciously, yet feeling that he did a risky thing,so convinced was he by old experience that you were getting in the wayof a road-machine when you opposed Thomas Sandys.

  "I wonder," Tommy replied quietly.

  The answer made a poor impression, and Cathro longed to go on. "But hewas always most dangerous when he was quiet," he reflected uneasily,and checked himself in sheer funk.

  Mr. Gloag came, as he thought, to Tommy's defence. "If Mr. Sandysquestions," he said heavily, "whether courage would have beenvouchsafed to him at that trying hour, it is right and fitting that heshould admit it with Christian humility."

  "Quite so, quite so," Mr. James agreed, with heartiness. He had begunto look solemn at the word "vouchsafed."

  "For we are differently gifted," continued Mr. Gloag, now addressinghis congregation. "To some is given courage, to some learning, to somegrace. Each has his strong point," he ended abruptly, and tuckedreverently into the jam, which seemed to be his.

  "If he would not have risked his life to save the boy," Elspethinterposed hotly, "it would have been because he was thinking of me."

  "I should like to believe that thought of you would have checked me,"Tommy said.

  "I am sure it would," said Grizel.

  Mr. Cathro was rubbing his hands together covertly, yet half wishinghe could take her aside and whisper: "Be canny; it's grand to hearyou, but be canny; he is looking most extraordinar meek, and unless hehas cast his skin since he was a laddie, it's not chancey to meddlewith him when he is meek."

  The doctor also noticed that Grizel was pressing Tommy too hard, andthough he did not like the man, he was surprised--he had alwaysthought her so fair-minded.

  "For my part," he said, "I don't admire the unknown half so much forwhat he did as for his behaviour afterwards. To risk his life wassomething, but to disappear quietly without taking any credit for itwas finer and I should say much more difficult."

  "I think it was sweet of him," Grizel said.

  "I don't see it," said Tommy, and the silence that followed shouldhave been unpleasant to him; but he went on calmly: "Doubtless it wasa mere impulse that made him jump into the pool, and impulse is notcourage." He was quoting Grizel now, you observe, and though he didnot look at her, he knew her eyes were fixed on him reproachfully."And so," he concluded, "I suppose Captain Ure knew he had done nogreat thing, and preferred to avoid exaggerated applause."

  Even Elspeth was troubled; but she must defend her dear brother. "Hewould have avoided it himself," she explained quickly. "He dislikespraise so much that he does not understand how sweet it is to smallerpeople."

  This made Tommy wince. He was always distressed when timid Elspethblurted out things of this sort in company, and not the least of hismerits was that he usually forbore from chiding her for it afterwards,so reluctant was he to hurt her. In a world where there were no womenexcept Elspeths, Tommy would have been a saint. He saw the doctorsmiling now, and at once his annoyance with her changed to wrathagainst him for daring to smile at little Elspeth. She saw the smile,too, and blushed; but she was not angry: she knew that the people whosmiled at her liked her, and that no one smiled so much at her as Dr.Gemmell.

  The Dominie said fearfully: "I have no doubt that explains it, MissSandys. Even as a boy I remember your brother had a horror of vulgarapplause."

  "Now," he said to himself, "he will rise up and smite me." But no;Tommy replied quietly;

  "I am afraid that was not
my character, Mr. Cathro; but I hope I havechanged since then, and that I could pull a boy out of the waterwithout wanting to be extolled for it."

  That he could say such things before her was terrible to Grizel. Itwas perhaps conceivable that he might pull the boy out of the water,as he so ungenerously expressed it; but that he could refrain frombasking in the glory thereof, that, she knew, was quite impossible.Her eyes begged him to take back those shameful words, but he bravelydeclined; not even to please Grizel could he pretend that what was notwas. No more sentiment for T. Sandys.

  "The spirit has all gone out of him; what am I afraid of?" reflectedthe Dominie, and he rose suddenly to make a speech, tea-cup in hand."Cathro, Cathro, you tattie-doolie, you are riding to destruction,"said a warning voice within him, but against his better judgment hestifled it and began. He begged to propose the health of Captain Ure.He was sure they would all join with him cordially in drinking it,including Mr. Sandys, who unfortunately differed from them in hisestimation of the hero; that was only, however, as had beenconclusively shown, because he was a hero himself, and so could makelight of heroic deeds--with other sly hits at Mr. Sandys. But when allthe others rose to drink the toast, Tommy remained seated. The Dominiecoughed. "Perhaps Mr. Sandys means to reply," Grizel suggestedicily. And it was at this uncomfortable moment that Christina appearedsuddenly, and in a state of suppressed excitement requested hermistress to speak with her behind the door. All the knowing ones wereaware that something terrible must have happened in the kitchen. MissSophia thought it might be the china tea-pot. She smiled reassuringlyto signify that, whatever it was, she would help Mrs. McLean through,and so did Mr. James. He was a perfect lady.

  How dramatic it all was, as Ailie said frequently afterwards. She wasback in a moment, with her hand on her heart. "Mr. Sandys," were herastounding words, "a lady wants to see you."

  Tommy rose in surprise, as did several of the others.

  "Was it really you?" Ailie cried. "She says it was you!"

  "I don't understand, Mrs. McLean," he answered; "I have done nothing."

  "But she says--and she is at the door!"

  All eyes turned on the door so longingly that it opened under theirpressure, and a boy who had been at the keyhole stumbled forward.

  "That's him!" he announced, pointing a stern finger at Mr. Sandys.

  "But he says he did not do it," Ailie said.

  "He's a liar," said the boy. His manner was that of the police, andit had come so sharply upon Tommy that he looked not unlike a detectedcriminal.

  Most of them thought he was being accused of something vile, and theDominie demanded, with a light heart, "Who is the woman?" while Mr.James had a pleasant feeling that the ladies should be requested toretire. But just then the woman came in, and she was much older thanthey had expected.

  "That's him, granny," the boy said, still severely; "that's the man assaved my life at the Slugs." And then, when the truth was dawning onthem all, and there were exclamations of wonder, a pretty scenesuddenly presented itself, for the old lady, who had entered with thetimidest courtesy, slipped down on her knees before Tommy and kissedhis hand. That young rascal of a boy was all she had.

  They were all moved by her simplicity, but none quite so much asTommy. He gulped with genuine emotion, and saw her through a maze ofbeautiful thoughts that delayed all sense of triumph and even made himforget, for a little while, to wonder what Grizel was thinking of himnow. As the old lady poured out her thanks tremblingly, he wasexcitedly planning her future. He was a poor man, but she was to bebrought by him into Thrums to a little cottage overgrown with roses.No more hard work for these dear old hands. She could sell scones,perhaps. She should have a cow. He would send the boy to college andmake a minister of him; she should yet hear her grandson preach in thechurch to which as a boy--

  But here the old lady somewhat imperilled the picture by risingactively and dumping upon the table the contents of the bag--a fowlfor Tommy.

  She was as poor an old lady as ever put a halfpenny into the churchplate on Sundays; but that she should present a hen to the preserverof her grandson, her mind had been made up from the moment she hadreason to think she could find him, and it was to be the finest hen inall the country round. She was an old lady of infinite spirit, anddaily, dragging the boy with her lest he again went a-fishing, shetrudged to farms near and far to examine and feel their hens. She wasa brittle old lady who creaked as she walked, and cracked like awhin-pod in the heat, but she did her dozen miles or more a day, andpassed all the fowls in review, and could not be deceived by thecraftiest of farmers' wives; and in the tail of the day she becamepossessor, and did herself thraw the neck of the stoutest and toughesthen that ever entered a linen bag head foremost. By this time the boyhad given way in the legs, and hence the railway journey, its costdefrayed by admiring friends.

  With careful handling he should get a week out of her gift, sheexplained complacently, besides two makes of broth; and she and theboy looked as if they would like dearly to sit opposite Tommy duringthose seven days and watch him gorging.

  If you look at the matter aright it was a handsomer present than manya tiara, but if you are of the same stuff as Mr. James it was only ahen. Mr. James tittered, and one or two others made ready to titter.It was a moment to try Tommy, for there are doubtless heroes asgallant as he who do not know how to receive a present of a hen.Grizel, who had been holding back, moved a little nearer. If he hurtthat sweet old woman's feelings, she could never forgive him--never!

  He heard the titter, and ridicule was terrible to him; but he alsoknew why Grizel had come closer, and what she wanted of him. OurTommy, in short, had emerged from his emotion, and once more knew whatwas what. It was not his fault that he stood revealed a hero: thelittle gods had done it; therefore let him do credit to the chosen ofthe little gods. The way he took that old lady's wrinkled hand, andbowed over it, and thanked her, was an ode to manhood. Everyone wastouched. Those who had been about to titter wondered what on earth Mr.James had seen to titter at, and Grizel almost clapped her hands withjoy; she would have done it altogether had not Tommy just then madethe mistake of looking at her for approval. She fell back, and,intoxicated with himself, he thought it was because her heart was toofull for utterance. Tommy was now splendid, and described the affairat the Slugs with an adorable modesty.

  "I assure you, it was a much smaller thing to do than you imagine; itwas all over in a few minutes; I knew that in your good nature youwould make too much of it, and so--foolishly, I can see now--I triedto keep it from you. As for the name Captain Ure, it was an inventionof that humourous dog, Corp."

  And so on, with the most considerate remarks when they insisted onshaking hands with him: "I beseech you, don't apologize to me; I seeclearly that the fault was entirely my own. Had I been in your place,Mr. James, I should have behaved precisely as you have done, and hadyou been at the Slugs you would have jumped in as I did. Mr. Cathro,you pain me by holding back; I assure you I esteem my old Dominie morethan ever for the way in which you stuck up for Captain Ure, thoughyou must see why I could not drink that gentleman's health."

  And Mr. Cathro made the best of it, wringing Tommy's hand effusively,while muttering, "Fool, donnard stirk, gowk!" He was addressinghimself and any other person who might be so presumptuous as to try toget the better of Thomas Sandys. Cathro never tried it again. HadTommy died that week his old Dominie would have been very chary ofwhat he said at the funeral.

  They were in the garden now, the gentlemen without their hats. "Haveyou made your peace with him?" Cathro asked Grizel, in a cautiousvoice. "He is a devil's buckie, and I advise you to follow my example,Miss McQueen, and capitulate. I have always found him reasonable solong as you bend the knee to him."

  "I am not his enemy," replied Grizel, loftily, "and if he has done anoble thing I am proud of him and will tell him so."

  "I would tell him so," said the Dominie, "whether he had done it ornot."

  "Do you mean," she asked indignantly, "that you think
he did not doit?"

  "No, no, no," he answered hurriedly; "or mercy's sake, don't tell himI think that." And then, as Tommy was out of ear-shot: "But I seethere is no necessity for my warning you against standing in his wayagain, Miss McQueen, for you are up in arms for him now."

  "I admire brave men," she replied, "and he is one, is he not?"

  "You'll find him reasonable," said the Dominie, drily.

  But though it was thus that she defended Tommy when others hinteddoubts, she had not yet said she was proud of him to the man whowanted most to hear it. For one brief moment Grizel had exulted onlearning that he and Captain Ure were one, and then suddenly, to allthe emotions now running within her, a voice seemed to cry, "Halt!"and she fell to watching sharply the doer of noble deeds. Her eyeswere not wistful, nor were they contemptuous, but had Tommy been lesselated with himself he might have seen that they were puzzled andsuspicious. To mistrust him in face of such evidence seemed half ashame; she was indignant with herself even while she did it; but shecould not help doing it, the truth about Tommy was such a vital thingto Grizel. She had known him so well, too well, up to a minute ago,and this was not the man she had known.

  How unfair she was to Tommy while she watched! When the old lady wason her knees thanking him, and every other lady was impressed by thefeeling he showed, it seemed to Grizel that he was again in the armsof some such absurd sentiment as had mastered him in the Den. When hebehaved so charmingly about the gift she was almost sure he looked ather as he had looked in the old days before striding his legs andscreaming out, "Oh, am I not a wonder? I see by your face that youthink me a wonder!" All the time he was so considerately putting thosewho had misjudged him at their ease she believed he did itconsiderately that they might say to each other, "How considerate heis!" When she misread Tommy in such comparative trifles as these, isit to be wondered that she went into the garden still tortured by adoubt about the essential? It was nothing less than torture to her;when you discover what is in her mind, Tommy, you may console yourselfwith that.

  He discovered what was in her mind as Mr. Cathro left her. She feltshy, he thought, of coming to him after what had taken place, and,with the generous intention of showing that she was forgiven, hecrossed good-naturedly to her.

  "You were very severe, Grizel," he said, "but don't let that distressyou for a moment; it served me right for not telling the truth atonce."

  She did not flinch. "Do we know the truth now?" she asked, looking athim steadfastly. "I don't want to hurt you--you know that; but pleasetell me, did you really do it? I mean, did you do it in the way wehave been led to suppose?"

  It was a great shock to Tommy. He had not forgotten his vows to changehis nature, and had she been sympathetic now he would have confessedto her the real reason of his silence. He wanted boyishly to tell her,though of course without mention of the glove; but her words hardenedhim.

  "Grizel!" he cried reproachfully, and then in a husky voice: "Can youreally think so badly of me as that?"

  "I don't know what to think," she answered, pressing her handstogether, "I know you are very clever."

  He bowed slightly.

  "Did you?" she asked again. She was no longer chiding herself forbeing over-careful; she must know the truth.

  He was silent for a moment. Then, "Grizel," he said, "I am about topain you very much, but you give me no option. I did do it preciselyas you have heard. And may God forgive you for doubting me," he addedwith a quiver, "as freely as I do."

  You will scarcely believe this, but a few minutes afterwards, Grizelhaving been the first to leave, he saw her from the garden going, nothome, but in the direction of Corp's house, obviously to ask himwhether Tommy had done it. Tommy guessed her intention at once, and helaughed a bitter ho-ho-ha, and wiped her from his memory.

  "Farewell, woman; I am done with you," are the terrible words you mayconceive Tommy saying. Next moment, however, he was hurriedly biddinghis hostess good-night, could not even wait for Elspeth, clapped hishat on his head, and was off after Grizel. It had suddenly struck himthat, now the rest of the story was out, Corp might tell her about theglove. Suppose Gavinia showed it to her!

  Sometimes he had kissed that glove passionately, sometimes pressed hislips upon it with the long tenderness that is less intoxicating butmakes you a better man; but now, for the first time, he asked himselfbluntly why he had done those things, with the result that he wasstriding to Corp's house. It was not only for his own sake that hehurried; let us do him that justice. It was chiefly to save Grizel thepain of thinking that he whom she had been flouting loved her, as shemust think if she heard the story of the glove. That it could benothing but pain to her he was boyishly certain, for assuredly thisscornful girl wanted none of his love. And though she was scornful,she was still the dear companion of his boyhood. Tommy was honestlyanxious to save Grizel the pain of thinking that she had flouted a manwho loved her.

  He took a different road from hers, but, to his annoyance, they met atCouthie's corner. He would have passed her with a distant bow, but shewould have none of that. "You have followed me," said Grizel, withthe hateful directness that was no part of Tommy's character.

  "Grizel!"

  "You followed me to see whether I was going to question Corp. You wereafraid he would tell me what really happened. You wanted to see himfirst to tell him what to say."

  "Really, Grizel--"

  "Is it not true?"

  There are no questions so offensive to the artistic nature as thosethat demand a Yes or No for answer. "It is useless for me to say it isnot true," he replied haughtily, "for you won't believe me."

  "Say it and I shall believe you," said she.

  Tommy tried standing on the other foot, but it was no help. "I presumeI may have reasons for wanting to see Corp that you are unacquaintedwith," he said.

  "Oh, I am sure of it!" replied Grizel, scornfully. She had been hopinguntil now, but there was no more hope left in her.

  "May I ask what it is that my oldest friend accuses me of? Perhaps youdon't even believe that I was Captain Ure?"

  "I am no longer sure of it."

  "How you read me, Grizel! I could hoodwink the others, but never you.I suppose it is because you have such an eye for the worst inanyone."

  It was not the first time he had said something of this kind to her;for he knew that she suspected herself of being too ready to findblemishes in others, to the neglect of their better qualities, andthat this made her uneasy and also very sensitive to the charge.To-day, however, her own imperfections did not matter to her; she wasas nothing to herself just now, and scarcely felt his insinuations.

  "I think you were Captain Ure," she said slowly, "and I think you didit, but not as the boy imagines."

  "You may be quite sure," he replied, "that I would not have done ithad there been the least risk. That, I flatter myself, is how youreason it out."

  "It does not explain," she said, "why you kept the matter secret."

  "Thank you, Grizel! Well, at least I have not boasted of it."

  "No, and that is what makes me----" She paused.

  "Go on," said he, "though I can guess what agreeable thing you weregoing to say."

  But she said something else: "You may have noticed that I took the boyaside and questioned him privately."

  "I little thought then, Grizel, that you suspected me of being animpostor."

  She clenched her hands again; it was all so hard to say, and yet shemust say it! "I did not. I saw he believed his story. I was asking himwhether you had planned his coming with it to Mrs. McLean's house atthat dramatic moment."

  "You actually thought me capable of that!"

  "It makes me horrid to myself," she replied wofully, "but if I thoughtyou had done that I could more readily believe the rest."

  "Very well, Grizel," he said, "go on thinking the worst of me; I wouldnot deprive you of that pleasure if I could."

  "Oh, cruel, cruel!" she could have replied; "you know it is nopleasure; you know it is a great pain."
But she did not speak.

  "I have already told you that the boy's story is true," he said, "andnow you ask me why I did not shout it from the housetops myself.Perhaps it was for your sake, Grizel; perhaps it was to save you thedistress of knowing that in a momentary impulse I could so far forgetmyself as to act the part of a man."

  She pressed her hands more tightly. "I may be wronging you," sheanswered; "I should love to think so; but--you have something you wantto say to Corp before I see him."

  "Not at all," Tommy said; "if you still want to see Corp, let us gotogether." She hesitated, but she knew how clever he was. "I preferto go alone," she replied. "Forgive me if I ask you to turn back."

  "Don't go," he entreated her. "Grizel, I give you my word of honour itis to save you acute pain that I want to see Corp first." She smiledwanly at that, for though, as we know, it was true, she misunderstoodhim. He had to let her go on alone.