Magnum Bonum

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  "You would not have said that to grandmamma," said Carey.

  "Well, if you like to go to Church, you can. I can go alone."

  "No, I will not have you take that long walk alone."

  "Then I will take one of the boys."

  "No, Janet, I mean to be obeyed. Go and put on your other hat, and do not make us late for Church."

  Janet was forced to submit, for she never came to the point of actual disobedience to her mother. Caroline's ruffled feelings were soothed by little Armine, who ran in from feeding his rabbits to ask to have the place in his Prayer-book shown to him where he should pray for poor Allen. She marked the Litany sentence for him, and meant to have thrown her own heart into it, but when the moment came, her mind was far astray, building vague castles about her boys.

  Still she felt as if her church going had its reward, for Dr. Leslie met her a little way outside the porch, and, after asking after her boy, said-

  "I hope his brother explained to you that Higg is quite to be trusted. He always knows what he can do, and when a case is beyond him. If I had come there would have been nothing for me to do."

  "There!" said Jock, triumphantly to his brother and sister.

  "Much you know about it," grunted Bobus.

  "Mother Carey was right. She always is," persisted Jock.

  "It would have been just the same if the man had known nothing about it," said Janet. "I hate your irregular practitioners, and it was very weak in mother to encourage them." Then, as Bobus snarled at the censure of his mother-"You said so yourself yesterday."

  "I didn't say any such beastly thing of mother. She could tell whether it was just a simple dislocation, and she was right, having ever so much more sense than _you_, Janet."

  "You didn't say so yesterday," repeated Janet.

  "I don't like irregular practitioners a bit better than you do, Janet," said Bobus with dignity; "and I thought it right to call in a qualified surgeon, but I never said mother couldn't judge."

  However, Bobus would not countenance the irregular practitioner by escorting his mother to River Hollow; and as he was in one of the surly moods in which he was dangerous to any one who meddled with him, especially Janet, his mother was glad not to have to keep the peace between them.

  Janet, though not in the most amiable mood, chose to go with her, and they set forth by the shorter way, across Belforest park, skirting the gardens where the statues stood up, looking shivery and forlorn, as if they were not suited to English winters, and the huge house looked down on them like a London terrace that had lost its way, with a dreary uninhabited air about it. Even by this private way they had two miles and a half of park to traverse, before they reached a heavy miry lane, where the beds of mud, alternated with rugged masses of stone, intended to choke them. It led up between high hedges to the brow of one of the many hills of the county, whence they could look down into the hollow, a perfect cup, scooped out as it were between the hills that closed it in, except at the outlet of the river that intersected it, making the meadow on either side emerald green, even in the winter. Corn lands of rich red soil, pasture fields dotted with cattle, and broad belts of copse wood between clothed the slopes; and a picturesque wooden bridge, with a double handrail, crossed the river. The farm-house, built of creamy stone, stood on the opposite side of the river, some way above the bank, and the mother and daughter agreed that it deserved to be sketched next summer.

  They had to pick their way down a lane that was almost a torrent, and emerging at the foot of the bridge, they stood still in amazement, for in the very centre was something vibrating rapidly, surrounded by a perfect halo of gold and scarlet. It was like a gigantic humming- bird moth at first, but it presently resolved itself into a little girl, clad in something dark purple below, and above with a bright scarlet cloaklet, which flew out and streamed back, beneath the floating locks of glistening gold that glinted in the sun, as with a hand on each rail of the bridge she swung herself backwards and forwards with the most bewildering rapidity. Suddenly becoming aware of the approach of strangers, she stood for one moment gazing in astonishment, then fled so swiftly that she almost seemed to fly, and vanished in the farm buildings!

  They stood laughing and declaring that Babie would be convinced that fairies came out on Sunday, then crossed the river and were beginning to ascend the path when a volley of sounds broke on them, a shrill yap giving the alarm, louder notes joining in, and the bass being supplied by a formidable deep-mouthed bark, as out of the farmyard- gate dashed little terrier, curly spaniel, slim greyhounds, surly sheep-dog of the old tailless sort, and big and mighty Newfoundland, and there they stood in a row, shouting forth defiance in all gradations of note, so that, though frightened, Carey and Janet could not help laughing, as the former said-

  "This comes of gadding about on Sunday."

  "If we went on boldly they would see we are not tramps," said Janet.

  "Depend on it they will let no one pass in Church time."

  So it proved, for Janet's attempt to move forward elicited a growl from the sheep-dog, and a leap forward of the "little dogs and all," which daunted even her stout heart.

  However, calls were heard, and the bright vision of the bridge came darting among the dogs, scolding and driving them in, and Allen himself came out to the gate, all bandaged up on one side, but waving his arm as a signal to his mother and sister to advance. They did so nervously but safely, while the growls of the sheep-dog sounded like distant thunder, and the terrier uttered his protest from the door. Allen declared himself much better, and said he should be quite able to go home to-morrow, only this was such a jolly place; and then he brought them into the beautiful old kitchen with a magnificent open hearth, inclosed by two fine dark walnut-wood settles, making a little carpeted chamber between them. Here Allen had the farmer's armchair and a footstool, and with "Foxe's Martyrs" open at a flaming illustration on the little round table before him, appeared to be spending his Sunday as luxuriously as the big tabby cat who shared the hearth with him.

  "They have only one service at Woodbridge, morning and afternoon by turns," he explained, "and so they are all gone to it."

  "Who is that girl?" asked Janet.

  "Undine," he coolly replied.

  "She certainly appeared on the bridge," said his mother, "but I should think Undine's colouring had been less radiant-more of the blue and white."

  "She had not a whiter skin nor bluer eyes," said Allen, "nor made herself more ridiculous either. Did you ever see such hair, mother? Hullo, Elfie. There she is, peeping in at the window, just as Undine did; Come in!" he cried at the door. "No, not she," as he returned baffled; "she is off again!"

  "But, Allen, who is she? Not Farmer Gould's daughter."

  "Of course not. Don't you know she was fished up in a net, and belonged to a palace under the ocean full of pearls and diamonds. She took such a fancy to me that no power on earth would make her go to Church with the rest. She ran away, and hid, and when they were all gone she came out and curled herself up at my feet and chattered, till I happened to offend her majesty, and off she went like a shot. I'm only thankful that she did not make her pearly teeth meet in my finger in true Undine fashion."

  "But who is she, really?"

  "I can't quite make out. They call her Elfie, and she calls them grandpapa, and uncle and aunt, but she has been sitting here complaining of everything being cold and dull, and talking about seas and islands, palm-trees, and coral caves, and humming birds, yes, and black slaves, and strings of pearls, so that if she is romancing, like Armine and Babie, she does it uncommonly naturally."

  They saw no more of this mysterious little being, and the family soon returned from Church. The father was a fine, old-fashioned yeoman, the son had the style of a modern farmer, and the wife was so quiet, sensible, and matronly as to be almost ladylike. Her two little girls were dressed as well as Essie and Ellie, but all were essentially commonplace. They were very kind and friendly, anxious that Allen should stay as long a
s was good for him, as well as pressing in their hospitality to the two ladies. Mr. Gould was very anxious to drive them home in his gig, though he allowed that the road was very rough unless you went through Belforest Park, and that he never did.

  This was surprising, for Belforest had always seemed as free as the turnpike-road, and River Hollow was apparently part of the estate, but there was an air of discouraging questions, so Carey suspected quarrels and asked none.

  She was enlightened the next day when Colonel Brownlow brought his phaeton to fetch Allen home over the smooth park road. He told her that the Goulds were freeholders who had owned River Hollow from time immemorial, though each successive lord of Belforest tried to buy them out. The alienation between them and Mr. Barnes, the present master, had however much stronger grounds than these. His nephew and intended heir has stolen a match with the old man's pretty daughter, and this had never been forgiven. The young couple had gone out to the West Indian isles, where the early home of her husband had been, and where he held some government office, and there fell a victim to the climate. Old Mr. Gould had gone home to fetch his daughter and her child, but the former had died before he reached her, and he had only brought back the little girl about two years ago.

  Mr. Barnes ignored her entirely, and the Goulds, who had a good deal of pride, did not choose to apply to him. It was very unfortunate, for unless he had any other relations the child must be heiress to his immense wealth, though it was as likely as not that he would leave it all to hospitals out of pure vindictiveness.

  They found Allen out of doors attended by the three little girls, all eagerly watching the removal of a sheep-fold. He was a pleasant- mannered boy, ready to adapt himself to all circumstances and to throw ready intelligent interest into everything, and he had won the hearts of the whole River Hollow establishment, from old Mr. Gould down to the smallest puppy.

  Elfie, as he called her, stood her ground, and as she looked up under her brown mushroom hat Caroline was struck with her beauty, fair, but with a southern richness of bloom and glow-the carnation cheek of a depth of tint more often found in brunette complexions. The eyes were not merely blue by courtesy, but of a wonderful deep azure, shaded by very long lashes, dark except when the sun glinted them with gold, and round her shoulders hung masses of hair of that exquisite light auburn which cannot be accused of being red.

  She let herself be greeted by the strangers with much more ease and grace than the other two children, but the slow walk of her grandfather and Colonel Brownlow seemed more than she could brook, and she went off, flying and spinning round like a little dog.

  While all the acknowledgments and farewells were being made, and Colonel Brownlow was taking directions for finding Higg's house and forge so as to remunerate him for his services, Elfie came hurrying up to Allen, holding out a great, gorgeous pink-lined shell, and laid within it two heads of scarlet geranium on a green leaf.

  "O Elfie, Elfie! how could you?" exclaimed he, knowing them to be the only flowers in bloom.

  "You must have them. There's nothing else pretty to give you, and I love you," said the child, holding up her face to kiss him.

  "Elvira!" said her aunt in warning, "how can you! What will this lady think of you?"

  Elvira's gesture would in any other child have seemed a sulky thrust of the elbow, but in her it was more like the flutter of the wing of a brilliant bird.

  "You must," she repeated; and when he hesitated with "If Mrs. Gould," she broke away, dashed the flowers, shell and all, into the middle of a clump of rosemary, and rushed out of sight like a little fury.

  "You will excuse her, Mrs. Brownlow," said Mrs. Gould, much annoyed. "She has been sadly spoilt, living among negro servants and having her own way, so that she is sometimes quite ungovernable,"

  "Nay, nay, she is a warm-hearted little thing if you don't cross her," said the old farmer; "and the young gentleman has been very kind to her."

  Mrs. Gould looked as if she thought she knew her niece better than grandpapa did, but she was too wise to speak; and the little girls, having assisted Allen in the recovery of the shell and the flowers, he tendered them again to her.

  "You had better keep them, Mr. Brownlow," she said. "The shell is her own, and if you did not take it she is so _tenacious_ that she would be sure to smash it to atoms."

  Allen accepted perforce and proceeded with his farewells, but as he was stooping down to kiss little five-year-old Kate Gould, something wet, cold, and sloppy came with great force on them both, almost knocking them down and bespattering them both with black drops. The missile proved to be a dripping sod pulled up from the duck-pond in the next field, and a glimpse might be caught of Elvira's scarlet legs disappearing over the low wall between.

  Over poor Mrs. Gould's apologies a veil had best be drawn. Mother Carey pitied her heartily, but it was impossible not to make fun at home over the black tokens on Allen's shirt-collar. His brothers and sisters laughed excessively, and Janet twitted him with his Undine, till he, contrary to his wont, grew so cross as to make his mother recollect that he was still a suffering patient, and insist on his lying quiet on the sofa, while she banished every one, and read Tennyson to him. Poetry, read aloud by her, was Allen's greatest delight, but not often enjoyed, as Bobus and Jock scouted it, and Janet was getting too strong-minded and used to break in with inopportune, criticisms.

  So to have Mother Carey to read "Elaine" undisturbed was as great an indulgence as Allen could well have, but she had not gone far before he broke out-

  "Mother, please, I wish you could do something for that girl. She really is a lady."

  "So it appears," said Carey, much disposed to laugh.

  "Now, mother, don't be tiresome. You have more sense than Janet. Her father was Vice-consul at Sant Ildefonso, one of the Antilles."

  "But, my dear, I am afraid that is not quite so grand as it sounds-"

  "Hush, mother. He was nephew to Mr. Barnes, and they lived out of the town in a perfect paradise of a place, looking out into the bay. Mr. Gould says he can hardly believe he ever saw anything so gorgeously beautiful, and there this poor little Elvira de Menella lived like a princess with a court of black slaves. Just fancy what it must be to her to come to that farm, an orphan too, with an aunt who can't understand a creature like that."

  "Poor child."

  "Then she can't get any education. Old Gould is a sensible man, who says any school he could afford would only turn her out a sham, and he means, when Mary and Kate are a little older, to get some sort of governess for the three. But, mother, couldn't you just let him bring her in on market days and teach her a little?"

  "My dear boy, what would your aunt do? We can't have sods of mud flying about the house."

  "Now, mother, you know better! You could make anything of her, you know you could! And what a model she would make! Think what a poor little desolate thing she is. You always have a fellow feeling for orphans, and we do owe those people a great deal of gratitude."

  "Allen, you special pleader, it really will not do! If I had not undertaken Essie and Ellie, I might think about it, but I promised your aunt not to have any other pupils."

  Allen bothered Essie and Ellie, but was forced to acquiesce, which was fortunate, for when on the last day of the holidays it was found that he had walked to River Hollow to take leave of the Goulds, his aunt administered to his mother a serious warning on the dangers of allowing him to become intimate there.

  Caroline tingled all over during the discourse, and at last jumped up, exclaiming-

  "My dear Ellen, half the harm in the world is done by making a fuss. Things don't die half so hard when they die a natural death."

  Ellen knew Carey thought she had said something very clever, but was all the more unconvinced.

  CHAPTER XII. KING MIDAS.

  When I did him at this advantage take, An ass's nowl I fixed upon his head. Midsummer Night's Dream.

  In the early spring an unlooked-for obstacle arose to all wanderings in the Bel
forest woods. The owner returned and closed the gates. >From time that seemed immemorial, the inhabitants of Kenminster had disported themselves there as if the grounds had been kept up for their sole behoof, and their indignation at the monopoly knew no bounds.

  Nobody saw Mr. Barnes save his doctor, whose carriage was the only one admitted within the lodge gates, intending visitors being there informed that Mr. Barnes was too unwell to be disturbed.

  Mrs. "Folly" Brownlow's aberrations lost their interest in the Coffinkey world beside the mystery of Belforest. Opinions varied as to his being a miser, or a lunatic, a prey to conscience, disease, or deformity; and reports were so diverse, that at the "Folly" a journal was kept of them, with their dates, as a matter of curiosity-their authorities marked:-

  March 4th.-Mr. Barnes eats nothing but fresh turtle. Brings them down in tubs alive and flapping. Mrs. Coffinkey's Jane heard them cooing at the station. Gives his cook three hundred pounds per annum.

  5th.-Mr. Barnes so miserly, that he turned away the housemaid for burning candles eight to the pound. (H. S. H.)

  6th.-Mr. B. keeps a bloodhound trained to hunt Indians, and has six pounds of prime beef steaks for it every day. (Emma.)

  8th.-Mr. B.'s library is decorated with a string of human ears, the clippings of his slaves in "the Indies." (Nurse.)

  12th.-Mr. B. whipped a little black boy to death, and is so haunted by remorse, that he can't sleep without wax-candles burning all round him. (Mrs. Coffinkey's sister-in-law.)