Heartsease or Brother's Wife

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  Violet was quite relieved to find this excessive grief was not spent on her aunt, but that it was the long-restrained sorrow for an affliction in which she could so much better sympathize. It had been of no avail for Mrs. Nesbit, in mistaken kindness, and ignorance of a mother's heart, to prevent her from ever adverting to her darlings; it had only debarred her from the true source of comfort, and left the wound to ache unhealed, while her docile outward placidity was deemed oblivion. The fear of such sorrow had often been near Violet, and she was never able to forget on how frail a tenure she held her firstborn; and from the bottom of her heart came her soothing sympathy, as she led her on to dwell on the thought of those innocents, in their rest and safety. Lady Martindale listened as if it was a new message of peace; her tears were softer, and she dwelt fondly on little Anna's pretty ways, speaking, and Violet hearing, as if it had been a loss of to-day, instead of more than thirty long years ago.

  Lady Martindale opened a dressing-box, saying how relieved she had been to find it safe, and from a secret drawer drew out a paper and showed Violet some soft locks of chestnut hair. 'Their papa gave me these,' she said. 'My dear aunt would not let me look at them--she thought it hurt me; but I must see if Anna's hair is not just like Helen's.' And then she begged Violet not to be alarmed at the resemblance, and kissed her for saying she was glad of it, and had no fears on that score. She dwelt on these reminiscences as if they were a solace of which she could never taste enough, and did not cease talking over them till Lord Martindale entered. Violet understood his feeling and the reserve hitherto shown to him sufficiently to attempt breaking it down, and ventured, as she quitted the room, to lay her hand on the little curl, and say, 'Grandmamma thinks Helen like her little Anna.'

  Seeing Arthur leaning on the balusters, looking discomposed, she went down to him. 'Where have you been!' he said, rather sulkily.

  'With your mother; I hope she is growing more calm.'

  'Very absurd of her to take it so much to heart!' said Arthur, entering the drawing-room. 'Have you heard about this will?'

  'No. What?'

  'Never was such a will on this earth! It ought to be brought into court! I verily believe the old hag studied to make it a parting emanation of malice!'

  'Oh, hush! hush!' ' cried Violet, shocked.

  'It is all very well saying Hush, hush; but I should like to know what you mean to live upon?'

  'What has she done?'

  'She has gone and left it all to that child!'

  'What child?'

  'My son--your boy John, I tell you; but, mark you, so as to do no good to a living soul. Not a penny is he to touch till we are all dead, if we starve meantime. She has tied it up to accumulate till my eldest son--or John's, if he has one--comes to the title, and much good may it do him!'

  'Poor little dear!' said Violet, inexpressibly pained by his tone.

  'Anything but poor! It is L100,000 to begin with, and what will it be when he gets it? Think of that doing nothing, and of us with no dependence but the trumpery L5000 by the marriage settlements. It is enough to drive one crazy.'

  'It is a pity,' said Violet, frightened by his vehemence.

  'It is an end of all chance for me. When she had always taught me to look to it! It is absolute cheating.'

  'Of late she never led us to expect anything.'

  'No; and you never took pains to stand well with her. Some people--'

  'O, Arthur, Arthur!'

  'Well, don't be foolish! You could not help it. Her spitefulness was past reckoning. To see her malice! She knew John and Theodora would not let me be wronged, so she passes them over, and my mother too, for fear it should be made up to me. Was ever man served so before? My own son, as if to make it more aggravating!'

  At an unlucky moment Johnnie ran in, and pulled his mother's dress. 'Mamma, may Helen dig in the bed by the garden door!'

  'Go away!' said Arthur, impatiently. 'We can't have you bothering here.'

  Though inattentive and indifferent to his children, he had never been positively unkind, and the anger of his tone filled the timid child's eyes with tears, as he looked appealingly at his mother, and moved away, lingering, and beginning a trembling, 'but, mamma--'

  'Don't stay here!' cried Arthur, in an indiscriminating fit of anger, striking his hand on the table. 'Did I not order you to go this moment, sir?'

  Poor Johnnie fled, without hearing his mother's consoling 'I'll come;' which only, with her look of grief, further irritated Arthur. 'Ay, ay! That's always the way. Nothing but the boy, whenever I want you.'

  Violet saw defence would make it worse, and tried to give him the attention he required; though quivering with suppressed distress for his harshness to his poor little boy, whom she could hardly help going at once to comfort. She hardly heard his storming on about the unhappy will, it only seemed to her like the apple of discord, and great was the relief when it was ended by Lord Martindale's coming down, asking why Johnnie was crying. She hoped this might cause Arthur some compunction, but he only answered, gruffly, 'He was troublesome, he is always fretting.'

  Violet found the poor little fellow with tear-glazed face trying to suppress the still heaving sobs, and be grateful to his grandmamma, who had brought him into her room, and was trying to console him, though unable to discover the secret of his woe. As he sprung to his mother's lap, his grief broke forth afresh. His affection for his father was a deep, distant, almost adoring worship; and the misery inflicted by those looks and words was beyond what could be guessed, save by his mother. He thought himself naughty, without knowing why, and could hardly be soothed by her caresses and assurances that papa was not really angry, but he must not interrupt another time.

  'But, mamma, Helen wanted to dig up all Cousin Hugh's little green things.'

  Violet was thus reminded that she must seek after her daughter, whom she found revelling in mischief, and was obliged to sentence to dire disgrace, causing general commiseration, excepting that her papa, ignorant that it was his own fault, declared children to be the greatest plagues in the world.

  She saw him no more in private, but grieved at his moodiness all the evening, and at bed-time watched a red spark moving to and fro in the garden. Her heavy sigh made Theodora ask what was the matter.

  'I wish Arthur would not stay out in the dew. He has a little cough already,' said she, putting forward the care that would best bear mention.

  'You used to be above caring for dews and night airs.'

  'I must for him and Johnnie!' said Violet.

  'Ah! what do you say to your son's prospects?'

  'I don't suppose it will make much difference to him,' was the dejected answer, Violet's eyes still following the red end of the cigar in the darkness.

  'Well! that is contempt for wealth! Fancy what will be in his hands. I thought you would be moralizing on the way to bring him up to use it.'

  'I have not thought of that,' said Violet; 'besides, it will be long enough before he has it.'

  'What! will it not be when he is of age!'

  'No, when he comes to the title.'

  'Oh! I see. Mamma did not understand that! She thought it absolutely left to him. How is it, then?'

  'It is put in trust till either he, or John's son, if he should have one, comes to the title.'

  'Then, it does you no good?'

  'Only harm,' Violet could not help saying.

  'How harm? It might be worse for you to have it.'

  'Most likely,' said Violet's submissive voice. 'But it vexes Arthur so much!' and the tears fell unseen.

  'Well it may!' said Theodora. 'One cannot say what one thinks of it NOW, but-- Poor Arthur! I was very much afraid she was going to leave it to me. Now I wish she had.'

  'I wish so too.'

  'It was silly of me to warn her that Arthur should have his share; but after all, I don't regret it. I would not have had it on false pretences. Did you hear when the will was dated?'

  'September, 18--.'

  'When Johnnie was a
baby. Ah! I remember. Well, I am glad we all forfeited it. I think it is more respectable. I only wish mamma had come in for it, because she is the right person, and papa is a good deal straitened. That really was a shame! Why did not she let them have it?'

  'Arthur thinks it was for fear we should be helped.'

  'No doubt,' said Theodora. 'Well. I wish--! It is a horrid thing to find people worse after they are dead than one thought them. There! I have had it out. I could not have borne to keep silence. Now, let us put the disgusting money matter out of our heads for good and all. I did not think you would have been distressed at such a thing, Violet.'

  'I don't want it,' said Violet, amid her tears. 'It is Arthur's disappointment, and the knowing I brought it on him.'

  'Nonsense!' cried Theodora. 'If I had Arthur here, I would scold him well; and as to you, he may thank you for everything good belonging to him. Ten million fortunes would not be worth the tip of your little finger to him, and you know he thinks so. Without you, and with this money, he would be undone. Now, don't be silly! You have got your spirits tired out, and sleep will make you a sensible woman.'

  Violet was always the better for an affectionate scolding, and went to bed, trusting that Arthur's disappointment might wear off with the night. But his aunt's inheritance had been too much the hope of his life, for him to be without a strong sense of injury, and his embarrassments made the loss a most serious matter. He applied to his father for an increase of allowance, but he could not have chosen a worse time; Lord Martindale had just advanced money for the purchase of his company, and could so ill afford to supply him as before, that but for the sake of his family, he would have withdrawn part of his actual income. So, all he obtained was a lecture on extravagance and neglect of his wife and children; and thus rendered still more sullen, he became impatient to escape from these grave looks and reproofs, and to return to town before the disclosure of Mr. Gardner's courtship. He made it his pretext that Violet was unwell and overworked in the general service; and she was, in truth, looking very ill and harassed; but he was far more the cause than were her exertions, and it was a great mortification to be removed from his parents and sister when, for the first time, she found herself useful to them, and for such an ungracious reason too, just when they were so much drawn together by the dangers they had shared, and the children seemed to be making progress in their grandmother's affections. Poor Johnnie, too! it was hard to rob him of another month of country air, just as he was gaining a little strength and colour.

  But pleading was useless; the mention of Johnnie revived the grievance, and she was told she must not expect everything to give way to that boy of hers; every one was ready enough to spoil him without his help. He would not stay crammed into this small house, with the children eternally in the way, and his father as black as thunder, with no diversion, and obliged to sleep out in that den of a cottage, in a damp, half-furnished room--an allegation hardly true, considering Violet's care to see the room aired and fitted up to suit his tastes; but he was determined, and she had not even the consolation of supposing care for her the true reason; the only ground she could find for reconciling herself to the measure was, that night walks were not mending his cough, which, though so slight that he did not acknowledge it, and no one else perceived it, still made her uneasy. Especially Violet felt the ingratitude of leaving Theodora in her weak, half-recovered state; but it was almost as if he had a sort of satisfaction in returning his father's admonitions on the care of his wife, by making it a plea for depriving them of her in their need, and he fixed his day without remorse.

  CHAPTER 5

  E'en in sleep, pangs felt before, Treasur'd long in memory's store, Bring in visions back their pain, Melt into the heart again. By it crost affections taught Chastened will and sobered thought.--AESCHYLUS.--Anstice

  Arthur did not succeed in eluding Lady Elizabeth. She called the day after the funeral, begging especially to see Mrs. Martindale. She looked absent and abstracted, while Lord Martindale was talking to her, and soon entreated Violet to come with her for a short drive.

  No sooner were they in the carriage than she said, 'Violet, my dear, can you or Arthur tell me anything of this Mr. Gardner?'

  'I know very little of him personally,' said Violet, for he was too much an associate of her husband's for her to be willing to expose him; 'but are you sure we mean the same person?'

  'Quite sure. Did you not hear that Arthur met him at Gothlands?'

  'No; I have had very little talk with him since he came back, and this fire has put everything out of our minds.'

  'Of course it must, my dear. However, Arthur came with Mr. Herries to dine there, and met Mr. Gardner as an old friend; so he must be the same, and I am particularly anxious for some account of him. I must tell you why--I know I am safe with you--but you will be very much surprised, after all her declarations--'

  'O, Lady Elizabeth, it cannot be that.'

  'I have always been prepared for something of the sort. But what, my dear?' seeing her agitation, and quickly infected by it.

  'O, don't let her,' was all Violet could utter.

  'Tell me! what is he?--what do you know of him? They spoke of him as once having been extravagant--'

  Violet drew a long breath, and tried to speak with composure. 'He is a dreadful man, gambling, betting, dissipated--such a person that Arthur never lets him come near me or the children. How could he dare think of her?'

  'Can it be the same?' said Lady Elizabeth, infinitely shocked, but catching at the hope. 'This man is Lady Fotheringham's nephew.'

  'Yes, he is,' said Violet sadly. 'There is no other cousin named Mark. Why, don't you remember all the talk about Mrs. Finch?'

  So little had Lady Elizabeth heeded scandal, that she had hardly known these stories, and had not identified them with the name of Gardner. Still she strove to think the best. 'Arthur will be able to tell me,' she said; 'but every one seems fully satisfied of his reformation--the curate of the parish and all. I do not mean that I could bear to think of her being attached to a person who had been to blame. Her own account of him alarmed me enough, poor dear child, but when I hear of the clergyman, and Theresa Marstone, and all admiring his deep feeling of repentance--'

  'How can he be so wicked!' exclaimed Violet.

  'You are convinced that he is not sincere?'

  'Why, of course, one does not like to say anything uncharitable; but there is something shocking in the notion of his talking of being good. If he did repent he would know how horrible it would be for him to marry Emma--'

  'He does affect great humility. He declares that no one can be more conscious of his unfitness than himself; but he was betrayed into this confession of his sentiments--Emma's purity and devotedness, as Theresa writes to me, having been such powerful instruments in leading him to a better course. If it was not for poor Emma's fortune, one might trust this more! Oh! Violet, I never so much was inclined to wish that her brother had been spared!'

  'But surely--surely Emma cannot like him?'

  'I grieve to say that she and her friend have been in one of their fits of enthusiasm. He seemed to accord with their idea of a penitent--only longing for stricter rules than are to be found with us. From what I have heard, I should have been much less surprised if he had become a monk of La Trappe; in fact, I was almost afraid of it.'

  'And does not this undeceive them?'

  'No; poor Emma's only doubt is because she cannot bear to be unstable, and to desert the work to which she was almost pledged; but she says she is ashamed to perceive how much the sacrifice would cost her. She adds, that decide as she may, he concurs with her in devoting everything to the restoration of the Priory.'

  'Poor Emma! He has debts enough to swallow two-thirds! And Miss Marstone, what does she say?'

  'His becoming a suitor seems to have been a surprise and disappointment to her; but if she thinks him a pupil of her own, or expects to govern the Priory in poor Emma's stead, she will be in his favour. No; I have no hope f
rom Theresa Marstone's discretion.'

  'The rest of the family?'

  'Theresa despises the others too much to attend to them. Mr. Randall seems to be startled at the present aspect of affairs, and asks me to come; and I should have set off this morning, but that I thought I might learn something from you and Arthur.'

  'Every one would tell you the same. He was expelled from the University, and has gone on shockingly ever since, breaking his mother's heart! Poor Emma! after dreading every gentleman!'

  'I fear she has much to suffer. He made her think him not a marrying man, and put her off her guard. Did you say he was agreeable?'

  'Perhaps I might think so if I knew nothing about him; but I have always had a repugnance to him, and it is all I can do not to dislike him more than is right. If I saw him speak to Johnnie, I think I should!'

  'And now tell me, for I ought to have every proof, if you know anything that would convince Emma that this present repentance is assumed?'

  Violet coloured excessively. 'Arthur could tell' she said, half choked, and as Lady Elizabeth still waited, she was obliged to add, He was active in the same way at the last races. I know there are things going on still that a man who really meant to reform would have broken off. Arthur could give you proofs.'