Two on a Tower

by Thomas Hardy

  XXV

  Meanwhile the interior of Welland House was rattling with the progress ofthe ecclesiastical luncheon.

  The Bishop, who sat at Lady Constantine's side, seemed enchanted with hercompany, and from the beginning she engrossed his attention almostentirely. The truth was that the circumstance of her not having herwhole soul centred on the success of the repast and the pleasure ofBishop Helmsdale, imparted to her, in a great measure, the mood to ensureboth. Her brother Louis it was who had laid out the plan of entertainingthe Bishop, to which she had assented but indifferently. She wassecretly bound to another, on whose career she had staked all herhappiness. Having thus other interests she evinced to-day the ease ofone who hazards nothing, and there was no sign of that preoccupation withhousewifely contingencies which so often makes the hostess hardlyrecognizable as the charming woman who graced a friend's home the daybefore. In marrying Swithin Lady Constantine had played hercard,--recklessly, impulsively, ruinously, perhaps; but she had playedit; it could not be withdrawn; and she took this morning's luncheon as anepisode that could result in nothing to her beyond the day'sentertainment.

  Hence, by that power of indirectness to accomplish in an hour whatstrenuous aiming will not effect in a life-time, she fascinated theBishop to an unprecedented degree. A bachelor, he rejoiced in thecommanding period of life that stretches between the time of waningimpulse and the time of incipient dotage, when a woman can reach the maleheart neither by awakening a young man's passion nor an old man'sinfatuation. He must be made to admire, or he can be made to do nothing.Unintentionally that is how Viviette operated on her guest.

  Lady Constantine, to external view, was in a position to desire manythings, and of a sort to desire them. She was obviously, by nature,impulsive to indiscretion. But instead of exhibiting activities tocorrespond, recently gratified affection lent to her manner just now asweet serenity, a truly Christian contentment, which it puzzled thelearned Bishop exceedingly to find in a warm young widow, and increasedhis interest in her every moment. Thus matters stood when theconversation veered round to the morning's confirmation.

  'That was a singularly engaging young man who came up among Mr.Torkingham's candidates,' said the Bishop to her somewhat abruptly.

  But abruptness does not catch a woman without her wit. 'Which one?' shesaid innocently.

  'That youth with the "corn-coloured" hair, as a poet of the new schoolwould call it, who sat just at the side of the organ. Do you know who heis?'

  In answering Viviette showed a little nervousness, for the first timethat day.

  'O yes. He is the son of an unfortunate gentleman who was formerlycurate here,--a Mr. St. Cleeve.'

  'I never saw a handsomer young man in my life,' said the Bishop. LadyConstantine blushed. 'There was a lack of self-consciousness, too, inhis manner of presenting himself, which very much won me. A Mr. St.Cleeve, do you say? A curate's son? His father must have been St.Cleeve of All Angels, whom I knew. How comes he to be staying on here?What is he doing?'

  Mr. Torkingham, who kept one ear on the Bishop all the lunch-time,finding that Lady Constantine was not ready with an answer, hastened toreply: 'Your lordship is right. His father was an All Angels' man. Theyouth is rather to be pitied.'

  'He was a man of talent,' affirmed the Bishop. 'But I quite lost sightof him.'

  'He was curate to the late vicar,' resumed the parson, 'and was muchliked by the parish: but, being erratic in his tastes and tendencies, herashly contracted a marriage with the daughter of a farmer, and thenquarrelled with the local gentry for not taking up his wife. This ladwas an only child. There was enough money to educate him, and he issufficiently well provided for to be independent of the world so long ashe is content to live here with great economy. But of course this giveshim few opportunities of bettering himself.'

  'Yes, naturally,' replied the Bishop of Melchester. 'Better have beenleft entirely dependent on himself. These half-incomes do men littlegood, unless they happen to be either weaklings or geniuses.'

  Lady Constantine would have given the world to say, 'He is a genius, andthe hope of my life;' but it would have been decidedly risky, and inanother moment was unnecessary, for Mr. Torkingham said, 'There is acertain genius in this young man, I sometimes think.'

  'Well, he really looks quite out of the common,' said the Bishop.

  'Youthful genius is sometimes disappointing,' observed Viviette, notbelieving it in the least.

  'Yes,' said the Bishop. 'Though it depends, Lady Constantine, on whatyou understand by disappointing. It may produce nothing visible to theworld's eye, and yet may complete its development within to a veryperfect degree. Objective achievements, though the only ones which arecounted, are not the only ones that exist and have value; and I for oneshould be sorry to assert that, because a man of genius dies as unknownto the world as when he was born, he therefore was an instance of wastedmaterial.'

  Objective achievements were, however, those that Lady Constantine had aweakness for in the present case, and she asked her more experiencedguest if he thought early development of a special talent a good sign inyouth.

  The Bishop thought it well that a particular bent should not show itselftoo early, lest disgust should result.

  'Still,' argued Lady Constantine rather firmly (for she felt this opinionof the Bishop's to be one throwing doubt on Swithin), 'sustained fruitionis compatible with early bias. Tycho Brahe showed quite a passion forthe solar system when he was but a youth, and so did Kepler; and JamesFerguson had a surprising knowledge of the stars by the time he waseleven or twelve.'

  'Yes; sustained fruition,' conceded the Bishop (rather liking the words),'is certainly compatible with early bias. Fenelon preached at fourteen.'

  'He--Mr. St. Cleeve--is not in the church,' said Lady Constantine.

  'He is a scientific young man, my lord,' explained Mr. Torkingham.

  'An astronomer,' she added, with suppressed pride.

  'An astronomer! Really, that makes him still more interesting than beinghandsome and the son of a man I knew. How and where does he studyastronomy?'

  'He has a beautiful observatory. He has made use of an old column thatwas erected on this manor to the memory of one of the Constantines. Ithas been very ingeniously adapted for his purpose, and he does very goodwork there. I believe he occasionally sends up a paper to the RoyalSociety, or Greenwich, or somewhere, and to astronomical periodicals.'

  'I should have had no idea, from his boyish look, that he had advanced sofar,' the Bishop answered. 'And yet I saw on his face that within therewas a book worth studying. His is a career I should very much like towatch.'

  A thrill of pleasure chased through Lady Constantine's heart at thispraise of her chosen one. It was an unwitting compliment to her tasteand discernment in singling him out for her own, despite its temporaryinexpediency.

  Her brother Louis now spoke. 'I fancy he is as interested in one of hisfellow-creatures as in the science of astronomy,' observed the cynicdryly.

  'In whom?' said Lady Constantine quickly.

  'In the fair maiden who sat at the organ,--a pretty girl, rather. Inoticed a sort of by-play going on between them occasionally, during thesermon, which meant mating, if I am not mistaken.'

  'She!' said Lady Constantine. 'She is only a village girl, a dairyman'sdaughter,--Tabitha Lark, who used to come to read to me.'

  'She may be a savage, for all that I know: but there is something betweenthose two young people, nevertheless.'

  The Bishop looked as if he had allowed his interest in a stranger tocarry him too far, and Mr. Torkingham was horrified at the irreverent andeasy familiarity of Louis Glanville's talk in the presence of aconsecrated bishop. As for Viviette, her tongue lost all its volubility.She felt quite faint at heart, and hardly knew how to control herself.

  'I have never noticed anything of the sort,' said Mr. Torkingham.

  'It would be a matter for regret,' said the Bishop, 'if he should followhis father in f
orming an attachment that would be a hindrance to him inany honourable career; though perhaps an early marriage, intrinsicallyconsidered, would not be bad for him. A youth who looks as if he hadcome straight from old Greece may be exposed to many temptations, shouldhe go out into the world without a friend or counsellor to guide him.'

  Despite her sudden jealousy Viviette's eyes grew moist at the picture ofher innocent Swithin going into the world without a friend or counsellor.But she was sick in soul and disquieted still by Louis's dreadfulremarks, who, unbeliever as he was in human virtue, could have no reasonwhatever for representing Swithin as engaged in a private love affair ifsuch were not his honest impression.

  She was so absorbed during the remainder of the luncheon that she did noteven observe the kindly light that her presence was shedding on the rightreverend ecclesiastic by her side. He reflected it back in tones dulymellowed by his position the minor clergy caught up the rays thereof,and so the gentle influence played down the table.

  The company soon departed when luncheon was over, and the remainder ofthe day passed in quietness, the Bishop being occupied in his room at thevicarage with writing letters or a sermon. Having a long journey beforehim the next day he had expressed a wish to be housed for the nightwithout ceremony, and would have dined alone with Mr. Torkingham butthat, by a happy thought, Lady Constantine and her brother were asked tojoin them.

  However, when Louis crossed the churchyard and entered the vicaragedrawing-room at seven o'clock, his sister was not in his company. Shewas, he said, suffering from a slight headache, and much regretted thatshe was on that account unable to come. At this intelligence the socialsparkle disappeared from the Bishop's eye, and he sat down to table,endeavouring to mould into the form of episcopal serenity an expressionwhich was really one of common human disappointment.

  In his simple statement Louis Glanville had by no means expressed all thecircumstances which accompanied his sister's refusal, at the last moment,to dine at her neighbour's house. Louis had strongly urged her to bearup against her slight indisposition--if it were that, and notdisinclination--and come along with him on just this one occasion,perhaps a more important episode in her life than she was aware of.Viviette thereupon knew quite well that he alluded to the favourableimpression she was producing on the Bishop, notwithstanding that neitherof them mentioned the Bishop's name. But she did not give way, thoughthe argument waxed strong between them; and Louis left her in no veryamiable mood, saying, 'I don't believe you have any more headache than Ihave, Viviette. It is some provoking whim of yours--nothing more.'

  In this there was a substratum of truth. When her brother had left her,and she had seen him from the window entering the vicarage gate, Vivietteseemed to be much relieved, and sat down in her bedroom till the eveninggrew dark, and only the lights shining through the trees from theparsonage dining-room revealed to the eye where that dwelling stood. Thenshe arose, and putting on the cloak she had used so many times before forthe same purpose, she locked her bedroom door (to be supposed within, incase of the accidental approach of a servant), and let herself privatelyout of the house.

  Lady Constantine paused for a moment under the vicarage windows, till shecould sufficiently well hear the voices of the diners to be sure thatthey were actually within, and then went on her way, which was towardsthe Rings-Hill column. She appeared a mere spot, hardly distinguishablefrom the grass, as she crossed the open ground, and soon became absorbedin the black mass of the fir plantation.

  Meanwhile the conversation at Mr. Torkingham's dinner-table was not of ahighly exhilarating quality. The parson, in long self-communing duringthe afternoon, had decided that the Diocesan Synod, whose annual sessionat Melchester had occurred in the month previous, would afford a solidand unimpeachable subject to launch during the meal, wheneverconversation flagged; and that it would be one likely to win the respectof his spiritual chieftain for himself as the introducer. Accordingly,in the further belief that you could not have too much of a good thing,Mr. Torkingham not only acted upon his idea, but at every pause ralliedto the synod point with unbroken firmness. Everything which had beendiscussed at that last session--such as the introduction of the layelement into the councils of the church, the reconstitution of theecclesiastical courts, church patronage, the tithe question--was revivedby Mr. Torkingham, and the excellent remarks which the Bishop had made inhis addresses on those subjects were quoted back to him.

  As for Bishop Helmsdale himself, his instincts seemed to be to allude ina debonair spirit to the incidents of the past day--to the flowers inLady Constantine's beds, the date of her house--perhaps with a view ofhearing a little more about their owner from Louis, who would veryreadily have followed the Bishop's lead had the parson allowed him room.But this Mr. Torkingham seldom did, and about half-past nine theyprepared to separate.

  Louis Glanville had risen from the table, and was standing by the window,looking out upon the sky, and privately yawning, the topics discussedhaving been hardly in his line.

  'A fine night,' he said at last.

  'I suppose our young astronomer is hard at work now,' said the Bishop,following the direction of Louis's glance towards the clear sky.

  'Yes,' said the parson 'he is very assiduous whenever the nights aregood for observation. I have occasionally joined him in his tower, andlooked through his telescope with great benefit to my ideas of celestialphenomena. I have not seen what he has been doing lately.'

  'Suppose we stroll that way?' said Louis. 'Would you be interested inseeing the observatory, Bishop?'

  'I am quite willing to go,' said the Bishop, 'if the distance is not toogreat. I should not be at all averse to making the acquaintance of soexceptional a young man as this Mr. St. Cleeve seems to be; and I havenever seen the inside of an observatory in my life.'

  The intention was no sooner formed than it was carried out, Mr.Torkingham leading the way.