 CHAPTER XXII Although there was a little help of moonlight. Sam drove home very carefully, for the more a man has to do with horses, the better he knows where his risk is, and I saw that his speech about Sally's speed as a power that could not be modified was a speech and nothing more. He set me down at my uncle's door with many warm thanks for my kindness, and a strong assurance that he should now go in and win. But my uncle was not so well pleased, for he had very little love for Sam, and much hatred at being kept out of his bed. I suppose you don't want any supper, you grumbled. If you do you must go and get what you can find. Your Aunt Parslow is a wealthy woman, but not the one to feed you as I do. I'll be bound she has sent you quite empty away. There's a bit of cold hawk of bacon in the cupboard. I told him that I had been fed like a prince, which only increased his ill humor. She wants you to go and do her trees for nothing. I understand that old woman. He said, as he gave me an inch of tallow candle, that after real turtle and champagne you will be able to make nothing out of this. I came by the girl who was old Tabby's niece, or cousin, or grandmother, or something. The footman, no doubt, was too grand to come down here. Don't bother me with it, I want my nightcap. He gave me the letter which he had opened, and which is addressed in a crabbed hand to Mr. Cornelius Orchardson, Market Gardener, Sunbury. And when he was gone I read his follows. Miss Cold Pepper presents her compliments to Mr. Orchardson, and will be much obliged if he shall send his nephew Christopher to the hall at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, as Miss Cold Pepper has something to say to him, my conscience being in a dreadful state of nervousness and discomfort without anybody to relieve it so, or anyone to put it on, I wondered and wondered what this could mean. All my dreams, like a Thatcher's pole, twisted it into a thousand ropes of many-colored stuff and stream, and when the morning came at last I could not set about my work until I had learned what Tabby Tapscott thought about this new surprise. She in her provoking ways pretended to know everything, but would only shake her head and mutter, and tell me to ensure my life. At last I saw that she knew nothing, and the only comfort I could find was to tell her that she should never know because she was an old humbug. It was a dull and foggy morning with a gray rhyme on the grass, and dead leaves hanging tipped with wet and dribbles of puddles along the walk doubting whether to freeze or flow, and the whole air reeking with that Job's comfort, which means that there is much worse to come. I buttoned my coat and strode more briskly, though going upon a loth-air, and you may know. When they showed me in at the tradesman's door, for I then looked up to dignities which exist by being looked up to, a strange and unaccustomed thing upset all the rally of my conscience. Regulus, the foremost of all beings in a well-regulated household, came down the passage at a pace which spoke nine volumes for his digestion, though his lips were clouded with fine cream, and instead of taking a nip at me he threw up his head as if he would have taken his hat off, if he wore one, and indulged in a bark of welcome which went ringing back to the hall itself. Then he cut a cape around my feet, and with the innumerable laughter of his tail fell faunting and begged but a word from me. I have often seen men of small self-respect do that sort of thing to great personages, but I knew that this dog was full of self-respect and had little for other people. What was passing in his mind I cannot say, but simply record his actions. Well, I never see the like, said Charles, who had condescended to let me in. Why, he snapped worse than ever at me, though the Lord knows I sweated to get him back. Come along this way, Master Kit. My lady will see you in the justice-room. He showed me into a square panel chamber where old squire Nicholas used to rule over poachers and little thieves brought before him by the parish constable. And with Regulus still at my heels I stood waiting anxiously for the lady. At length there came a rustle of silk moving slowly, watered silk such as we sell them see now, and can scarcely find time to think of, and as fine as the silk and as able to stand alone was the lady inside it. Although she lived so near to us and drove by in her carriage so often, I knew her rather by sight than speech, and better by report than either. She was tall and straight and of goodly presence, with fine large features and a steadfast look which expressed clear perception and strong resolve, but less violence of nature than her sister showed. Her abundant hair drawn back from her ample forehead, and coiled at the back of her head, would have been jet-black but for a few lines of silver and an undercast of a tint like that of an American oak leaf. To me she appeared more imposing and handsome than her sister Monica, but I may have thought more highly of her because she lived at Sunbury. This lady made me a graceful bow, a very slight one, but still it was a bow. I proved that her nature was better than that of the honourable Mrs. Bullrag. I replied with a low band and scrape of my foot, which I always understand to be the proper thing in such a case, and the guilt of my heart as I thought of her dog was enough to account for the deep plush I felt. I knew the young Mr. Orchardson, she asked, the nephew of that Mr. Orchardson who owns the large garden and long walls at Sunbury, then I have a little matter to discuss with you. But how strongly my dog seems to take to you, it is not at all his general character. He is not at all devoted to mankind, but he has a remarkable memory. Perhaps she were kind to him when he was quite young, or perhaps she were even his master. No, ma'am, I know him only as your dog, but most dogs are fond of me, and Aunt of mine has nine, and I was with them yesterday. Oh, that explains it! She spoke with a smile which made her face quite beautiful, and I wondered at the taste of the honourable Tom in exchanging her for her sister. Now, I dare say you know why I sent for you. For some years I have not seen very much of my sister, now the wife of Professor Fairthorne, a man well known in the scientific world. But a few weeks ago Captain Fairthorne asked me to allow his daughter by a previous marriage to spend a few days with me here. And I consented, for I knew him long before he married my sister, and have always felt a great regard for him. There is no reason why I should enter into that. Miss Fairthorne was here for about ten days, and she might have been longer but for you. Who are you that you should dare to fall in love with her? Now these words look very harsh as written, and would sound so too if harshly spoken. But Miss Cold Pepper scarcely seemed to mean them thus, for there was no contempt in her voice, and I thought that her glance was kind, though her face was very grave. Perhaps she was thinking of her own love-time, which would rouse at once pity for me, an ill will towards the sister, who then had wronged her so. It was difficult for me to answer her, and I was in no hurry to do so, knowing from dialogues with Tabby Tapscott that women are ready to go on again, and perhaps answer themselves when provoked to do it. Not that I compared Miss Cold Pepper with our poor Tabby for a moment, only that much the same rule applies to all women when they grow unruly. Their main object is to say something striking, being forbidden by nature to strike otherwise. You have nothing to say, then, continued the lady without giving me time to know how much I had. Very well, I think that it is better so. I have tried to make every allowance for you, and I am glad not to find you at all defiant. Miss Fairthorn, of course, has no particular claims of birth to stand upon, for you know, and perhaps you have thought about it, that she has none of the Cold Pepper blood in her system. I suppose, if she had, you would scarcely have dared to behave in this way, Mr. Orchardson? Certainly not, madam, I replied with genuine truth, for I must have been frightened at the fearful temper of the family, and if Kitty had been a Cold Pepper, she could not have owned the sweet face which had won me. Really, I do not perceive in you, her ladyship, as our people called her, went on in a gentler tone. Any signs of that audacity with which my sister charges you? To me you seem to be a well-meaning and fairly educated young man, and it may be your misfortune, more than fault, that you have given this offence. You certainly were of the greatest service to my niece, as I allow her to call herself, although she is no niece of mine. When that excessively stupid marker led her into needless danger, I do not know what I could have said to Professor Fairthorn if his daughter had been swept away through the folly of my housekeeper, and more than that I was beginning to grow rather fond of that young girl. I found her so ready and clever and obliging and free from conceit the young people show now. When she was taken away like that, I missed her very sadly and felt for her deeply at having to go back to—to so very dull a house, but I wish you to understand, young man, that though I am not in a position to forbid, I cannot in any way sanction or even approve of your suit to her, and I trust that your own common sense will induce you to withdraw it and try to forget her. You may think it hard, but it must be so. Will you promise to think no more of her? No, I cannot do that, I answered in a low voice which grew stronger as my heart warmed with my words. I will tell you no falsehood, Miss Cold Pepper. As long as I live I must think of her, and no one else in all this world, she is more to me than my life, my soul, or even my hope of another life. From the moment I first set eyes upon her there was nothing else worth living for. The Lord, who governs all our ways and knows what is best for us, has been pleased to give me her pure love, a greater gift than the life he gave, and with his aid I will hold it fast, and he alone shall ever part us. I am not accustomed to strong words, but these are weak to what my meaning is. Well, I think they are pretty strong, but I will not blame you for them. She turned from my eyes which were bright with deep passion, as behoove the well-bred lady. When things have come to such a pass there is little more to be said or done. Only it occurs to me, who have seen a good deal of men and women, that these brave words are often said, and for the moment felt, no doubt. But in a few years, or even one, or perhaps a month, where are they? A new love, equally the gift of heaven, comes in with still hotter fervor, and the old one is whistled down the wind, and why should it not be so with you? I knew in the heat of the moment she was referring to her own case, and my place was to be silent. Christopher Orchardson, she said at last, recovering her business-tone, I have delivered my message to you, and it has not made much impression. To me the matter is of little moment, except that I like Miss Fairthorne more than I ever expected to like a girl again, and I am not pleased, as you may suppose, that she, with her youth and abilities and beauty, should make so poor a marriage. Have you thought of this? Have you considered whether you have any right to take her from a rank in life, or at least from a social position above your own, and keep her in a cottage, among working men, with a scanty and perhaps doubtful income? You are a man of spirit, do you think this fair? This was the point of all points which perplexed me more than I could settle. She saw how deeply her words had moved me, and waited with a grim smile for my reply. Yes, I have fully considered that, and it is the one matter I doubt about. You have put it more clearly, madam, than I could put it, and entirely without exaggeration, and I scarcely know how to answer without referring to things that may pain you. But you may be aware that Miss Fairthorne at present leads a most unhappy life, and even worse than that everything is being done to force her into a miserable marriage with a man of more than twice her age, and of anything but good character. He is supposed to be rich, but is poorer than myself, because he owes more than he can pay. She had better go to her grave than become the wife of such a person. From this she has no escape except to the quiet home I can give her. And to live among working men who would respect and look up to and admire her is surely less of a degradation than to be brought into a wild and rough company as in the other case she must be. It will be known here that she has had the honour of your acquaintance and liking, and though you may not think fit to continue it under the change of circumstances, people will value her by what has been. And as for being happy, what is there to prevent it? She will live in a beautiful place in fine gardens, where there is always plenty to look at and enjoy, according to the time of year, abundance of flowers and fruit and good living, my uncle to make much of her, and myself to worship her, and nobody ever to say a cross word. It is not surprising that you have won her consent, Miss Cold Pepper answered gravely, if you have put your proposals thus. How could a poor London girl resist such a program? And Kitty loves the country, as a lark or wood-quace does. Well, you must understand that I will have nothing more to say about it. I have been asked to tell you what I think. I have done so, and there is an end of it. With these words she rang the bell for someone to show me the way out, but having found her much less awful than I had expected, I was not content to let while alone, but must needs try to get further. Madam, I said, you have listened so kindly to all I have ventured to tell you that I hope you will let me ask one question without being thought impertinent. It is only that I should like to know who it is that has begged you to speak to me and whether Captain Fairthorne is aware of it. At once her demeanor was changed to me, her lofty indifference was gone, her eyebrows rose and her eyelids quivered, and her face flushed with wrath like a storm cloud with a sun. I think that I have listened too kindly to you and the things you have dared to tell me. It will teach me to have less to say to underbred young men henceforth. Everyone who can call to mind that year of bad weather, 1860, will bear me out in saying that it showed no weakness, no lack of consistency to the last. Rain and chill were the rule of the summer, snow and severe cold the order of the winter, in the beginning of December the earth was sodden and the rivers thick with flood. Then the sky was amassed with fog and the trees hung low with the trembling drip, and even the humble weeds and grass were bearded with a glock of streak, not crisp or bright as of rhyme or frost, but limp and dull and bleary. We never seen such a thing till now, I could not tell what to make of it. But Uncle Corny, who had been compelled for years to watch the weather, said, Up with all the winter apples and the Glau Morcau and the Bure Rance, up with them all the Covent Garden, or we shall have them frozen on the shelves, or even if we can keep the frost out we shall have the vans snowed up. Things looked just as they do now in December, 1837, only the ground was not so wet. Go down to the barges and order ten tons of coal, we shall want it all, and twenty cauldrons of gas-cook. The frost will last till February, and the fuel will cost a rare price then. I was inclined to laugh at this as a bold and rash prediction, but it was more than verified by the weather that set in upon the 18th of December, not with any sudden change but the cold growing more decided. By this time honey-suckle cottage was thoroughly cleansed and in good trim painted and papered, and neatly furnished, with tabby put in to keep it warm, but only permitted to use one room. And I used to go there every day, and sit in the little parlor, reading the only letter I had yet received from the one who was more to me than words. It was written in a small, clear hand, and dated on the very day after my visit to her, and the purport of it was to comfort me and persuade me to wait with all endurance until I should have leave to come again. And long as the time had seemed, and dreary and empty of all except distant hope, I had done my best to get through it, with the courage of a man and the faith of love. It is for my dear father's sake, she wrote, that I am compelled to ask you this. It has been a fearful scene which even his sweet endurance and wonderful temper could scarcely carry him through, without sad injury to his health and work. His heart is not very strong, and though he tries to laugh these troubles off or despise them as below his notice, to me it is plain that they worry and wear him a great deal more than he deigns to show. And I know that he bitterly reproaches himself, although he so rarely speaks of it, for having been so deluded as to place nearly all his property in the power of those who should only have a part. When he looks at me in size I know exactly what he is thinking of, and it is my place to save him from all that can be avoided of strife and ill treatment. A more placid and peaceful man never lived, yet comfort and peace are denied him. In a few weeks he will leave home again, if this house can be called a home, and then I should like to see you, dear, with his permission before he goes, because I am not afraid for myself, and I may have to settle what is to be done if a certain gentleman should come back and try to force his visits upon me while my father is away. If this should happen you shall hear it once unless I am locked up, as I used to be sometimes. Do not write, she takes every letter, and it would only cause more misery. We must trust in heaven and in one another, for I know that you love me as I love you. This very faithful and sensible letter was beginning to grow threadbare now, or rather was returning to its original state of thread with my constant handling, and it left me in a sore predicament, which became soreer as time went on, and no other tidings reached me. It was grievous to reflect that with better policy and judicious flattery I might perhaps have contrived to get a scrap or two of information even from the stately lady of the hall, or at any rate through Mrs. Marker, but that good housekeeper shone to me now, probably under strict orders, or if ever I managed to bring her to bay, she declared that she knew nothing, and perhaps this was true for the choleric sisters held little communication. As a last resource I got Mrs. Tapscott to promise her niece the most amiable tips for every bit of tidings she could bring. But nothing came of that, and by this time verily my condition of mind was feverish. In vain I consulted that oracle of the neighborhood, Uncle Corny, for an oracle he was now become, partly through making good figures of his fruit, partly through holding tongue and shaking head, and partly no doubt by defeating the lawyers and smoking out old acorate, but all I could win from this oracle was go up and get in at the window. I was ready to get in at any window, big enough for my head to pass. If only I could have found Kitty inside and quick to forgive me for coming, but to talk is all very fine, and old men make it due for everything, to act as the province of the young, who have not found out how vain it is. Being touched up, therefore, on every side, for even old tabby made sniffs at me, then Celci Bill winked in a manner that meant, would there ever have been seventeen young Celci's, if I had hunk fires you do? And my uncle said quietly between two puffs, in for a penny, in for a pound, that used to be the way when I was young. Being stirred up more deeply by my own heart, which was sadly unquiet within me, I set off at last, without a word, and not even a horse, to help me. A frost had set in, that mighty frost which froze the Thames down to Kingston Bridge, and would have frozen at the London Bridge except for one pause at the end of the year in the rush of so much land water. The ground was already as hard as iron, but no snow had fallen to smother it up. The walking was good and the legs kept going to keep one another and the whole affair alive. There must have been a deal of ground soon overcome between them, for they were not out of Uncle Corny's gate till Sunbury Clock struck three, and they knocked against the gate of Bullrag Park when the twilight still hung in the sky. And this had been done against a bitter east wind with a low scud of snow flying into the teeth and scurfing the darkening road with grey. Here it was needful to reflect a little, for to think against the drift of air is worthless for anything weaker than a six-wheeled engine. I found a little shelter from the old Scotch firs and halted in their darkness and considered what to do. The house, about a hundred yards away, looked cold and grim and repellent and abhorrent except for one sweet warmth inside. The dark shrubs before it were already powdered with a gathering crust of snow, and the restless wind was driving cloudy swirls of white along and in under the lapse of blue slate. So far as I could see one chimney only was issuing token of some warmth inside. I had scarcely shivered yet in fierce cold of the road and the open tracks where no road was, but I shuddered with a deep thrill of anguish and dismay as I watched that bleak house with the snow flitting round it, the bitter frost howling and every wind blast, and not a scrap of fire to keep my sweet love's body warm. If they have not quite starved her since her father left, I asked to myself, being sure that he was gone, they will not lose this chance of freezing her to death. I have heard what they do in such weather. They keep her where the water jugs burst and the ice is on the pillow, while they roast themselves by a roaring fire. May they roast for ever! Slow as I am in imagination this picture had such an effect upon me, that I caught up my stick which had stood against the tree and determined to knock the front door in if they would not admit me decently, but glancing back first to be sure of having the place to myself, I beheld through the wind-hurried flakes an advancing figure. Nothing looks were enough. It was my darling, bending to the wind but walking bravely, in carrying a basket in her ungloved hand, her little thin cloak and summer hat, for they had given her no other, were as white as the ground itself with snow, and so were the clusters of her rich brown hair which time shall whiten by the side of mine. But her large blue eyes and soft rosy cheeks were glistening bravely through the fleecy veil, and a smile of resolve to make the best of all things showed little teeth whiter than any snowflake. Through the brunt of the storm she had not described me, until she was suddenly inside my arms. Then she dropped her basket in the snow and looked up at me, and tried hard to be vexed, but nature and youth were too many for her, and she threw her glad arms round my neck and patiently permitted me to leave no snow either on her face or in her curls. Oh, Kit, if they should see us from the house! she whispered, and I said, they had better not, or they shall have this stick. However, for fear of any rashness about that I held her with a smooth and easy pace, for she could move beautifully with my arm round her, which no clumsy girl could do, to a snug little nook, where a large bay tree broke the power of the wind and screened the snow. Here we found the low branch upon which we could sit, with the fragrant leaves to shelter us, and ever since that when I smelled a bay leaf, I could never help thinking of my love, even when it is in pickled mackerel. When I had told her a thousand times of my delight at finding her, and she with a hundred blushes perhaps had begged me to show it judiciously, I asked her where she had been in such dreadful weather, and what she had got in the basket. Two bottles of brandy, she answered as coolly as if it had been a cow slip, Paul, from the bricklayer's arms I had to fetch them, because nobody else would go out in the storm. What! I cried, looking at her pure and bashful eyes. Do you mean to say that you are sent alone to a common public house where the navies go? Oh, they never say anything to me, dear kid, but I cannot bear to go, when there are noisy people there, and I believe that my father would be angry if he knew it. It has only happened once or twice when the weather was very bad. Does she ever send her own daughters there? I asked as mildly as I could, for Kitty was trumbling at my natural wrath and stern manner. Oh, no! She would not like to send them at all. Even if they would go, which is very doubtful, but she says that my place is to be useful, and she never can do without brandy long. She gets tired of wine in the evening. The case is just this, I said, wishing to let off my wrath that I might speak of more pleasant things. She revels upon your father's money and squanders it on her children's whims. She locks him up in a corner of his own house and makes a slave of his only child, starves and beats her, and degrades her by sending her for drink to a pot-house. A young lady, the best and sweetest and noblest, I was obliged to stop in fear of violence, but my dear one became all the dearer to me, as I thought of her misery and patience. If my uncle Cornelius tried to put upon me, was I ever known to put up with it? And consider the difference betwixt an uncle who fed me and kept to me and allowed me money, or at any rate promised to do so. And a vile stepmother who ruined the father, and starved and bullied and disgraced the child. Truly we learn to forget right and wrong, as our country has learned in these latter days. No one can degrade me but myself, Miss Fairthorne answered gently, and without any thought of argument. But I will not go again, if you think it wrong. I have been so accustomed to Ron Aarons for her that I never gave a thought to the difference at first, and having done it once I could not say no the next time. But I know it is not nice, and I will never go again now that I know that you object to it, dear. You won't be angry when I have given you my promise, to send an angel to a public house, but I said no more about it, for the angel sighed and put her hand into mine to be forgiven. Then I asked her, with my wrath turning into jealous pangs about that old villain, who dared to imagine that his wealth if he had any, or at any rate his position could bridge over the gulf between virtue and vice, loveliness and ugliness, sweet and maidenhood and sour decrepitude of bad living. Of these things I could not speak to her, but her modesty shrank, without knowing why. That poor old gentleman has been very ill, she answered in her clear and silvery voice, which made me thrill like music. He went to sea to some business in Lincolnshire and was laid up for weeks with Agu, but he used to come back when the weather permits. If he had appeared I would have let you know, for I should have been frightened, with my father not at home. But I am sorry to say there is someone coming more formidable to me than Sir Cumberlay is. You will think I am full of dislikes, dear Kit, but I do dislike that downy so. He is her son Donovan, her only son, and she worships him, if she worships anything. I had heard of this Donovan bullrag more than once, but knew very little about him, except that unless he was much belied, he combined the vices of both his parents. But my duty was now to reassure my kitty and leave her in good spirits. So far as that was possible, though every minute of her company was as precious as a year of life to me, I was fearful of keeping her longer in the cold and ensuring a very hot reception from her foes. Of the latter, however, she had not much dread, being so inured to ill usage that a little more or less was not much consideration. But her cloak was threadbare, and her teeth began to chatter, as the keen wind shook the tree above us, and scattered the snow upon our shoulders. In a few words we arranged to be no longer without frequent news of one another, for I told her very truly that without this luck I must have gone home in utter misery, unless I had forced my way to her, and with equal sincerity she replied that she did not know what she could have done, for the time had been dreary and desolate. Then she promised to write me every week not long love letters, for of those there was no need, with our pure faith in one another, and her opportunities would be but brief, yet so as to let me know that she was safe and not persecuted more than usual. These letters she must post with her own hand, and my answer she must call for at a little shop kept by an old servant of the captains, who would not betray her. If possible, she would write on Saturdays so that I might get the letter on a Sunday morning, and if anything were added to her troubles I might come, and try to let her know of it through Mrs. Wilcox, who kept the little shop she had spoken of. With this I was obliged to be content for the present, much as I longed for a bolder course. She would not leave her father without his full consent. But you shall have something to remember me by, and something too that came from him, she whispered as her fears began to grow again. He gave me a watch on my last birthday, a beautiful watch with a blue enamel back, and kitty done in little diamonds. She said it was much too good for me, and she gave it to Geraldine, her youngest girl. But oh, I cheated them out of something, because I felt that they were cheating me. They never knew that he had given me a gold key for it, a lovely little key with a star in the center. Here it is. See how it sparkles in the dusk. Take it, my dear, and wear it always. Then you will think it is the key of my heart, kit, which you manage to steal down at Sunbury, so you must not give me anything in return, not now at least, perhaps some day you may. It was now so dark that I ventured to lead her and carry her basket to the little side door, for that part of the house was dark and empty. Then she gave me a sweet farewell, with one little sob to strengthen it, and the snow whirled into her glistening eyes, and a shiver ran through me, when she was gone. End of chapter 23 Chapter 24 A strange thing befell me on my way home, which I would have avoided describing if I could, for my adventures have but little interest, except so far as they are concerned with Kitty. But this one unluckily did concern her deeply, in as much as it brought great affliction on her, and left her without my assistance at a time when she stood in special need of it. She had made me promise that I would not attempt to walk all the way to Sunbury in such a bitter night, and with the storm increasing, till no one could tell what might come of it. Finally I made my way to Notting Hill, intending to get an omnibus there, which would take me at least as far as Richmond. There I meant to have a mutton chop or two, and perhaps a pint of mort-like ale, which is generally of good substance, and thus be set up for the cold walk home. And if this had been done, as it was really intended, probably I might have been at home in good time to tell my uncle all about it, before he had finished his go-to-bed pipe. But as it happened, when I came out at last from all this brick-and-mortar skiddle-ground, into the broad western road, and knew pretty well where I was and how the land lay, not an omnibus was to be found anywhere except those that had travelled out before the storm began, and were bound to get home again somehow, and these had some trouble getting along, with the snow clouding up the horses' faces and forming great balls on their feet and clogging the dumb, heavy roll of frozen wheels, all the buses that should have been plowing and rolling towards Shepherd's Bush, and turn them green, and resolve to remain in their yards for the night, let other horses tug and wallow and smoke like beds of mortar, let other coachmen flap their breasts and scowl instead of answering, and let other three penny-fairs look blue and stamp in the straw to thaw their toes. It was worth much more than the money would fetch to cross their legs by the tap-room fire or whisk their tails and stable. At first I took it as a wholesome joke that the fourteen miles of road before me must be overcome by toe and heel. As for a cab I had never been inside any feminine bandbox of that name, and if I would have condescended to it there was no such thing to be got to-night. I was young and strong and full of spirit, with the sweet words kindling in my heart as memory stirred it from time to time, and if any one had bidden me look out for danger I should have said let me see it first, and in this humor I strode on without even turning my collar up. But the world became wrapped up more and more in deep white darkness as I trudged on, as the houses along the road grew scarcer they seemed to go by me more heavily and slowly, and with less and less power of companionship. There was scarcely a man to say good-night to, and the one or two that I met would not open mouth to answer, and when I came through a great open space with a white spire standing like a giant's ghost, I could hardly be sure that it was Ternum Green, so entirely was distance huddled up with snow, but I ran into a white thing in the middle of the road, and the gleam of an Osler's lantern showed me that it was a Brewer's Drey, with the horses taken out and standing with their heads between their legs close by a signpost. You better turn in, mate! The Osler shouted, You're a fool if you go further such a night as this! I saw a red steam in the bar and knew that this must be the old pack horse in, whose landlord had raised a famous apple, and my better sense told me to follow advice. But the bride of fool's strength drove me on, and without slacking a foot I lost sight of it in the solid days. There was nothing to be afraid of yet, and I felt no kind of misgiving. I began to let my legs go on instead of walking consciously. At one time I began to count as if they were a machine, of which I was no longer master. I counted up to a thousand, and thought, about seven thousand more will do it, and that they can manage without much trouble. And then I gave up counting, and it must have passed through Brentford as in a dream. And so did Twickenham, and through that again. They were nearer ways in better weather, but although I could not think clearly now, through cold and clogging feet and constant drizzle of white fall around me, I had sense enough to stick to highways as long as they would stick to me. At Twickenham I had a mind to stop and get something to eat, being faint with hunger. For I had seven and six pence in my waistcoat pocket. I cannot tell why I did not stop, and only know that I went on. The snow must have been ten inches deep on the level, and as many feet in the drifts, for a strong wind urged it fiercely. When I came at last to the Bear at Hanworth, an old established and good hotel. The principal entrance was snowed up from the sweep of the roads that met there. For every road running east and west was like a cannon exploding snow. But I went in by the little door round the corner and finding only the barman there, for all neighbors had been glad to get home while they could. I contrived with some trouble to ask for a glass of hot brandy and water. So great was the change from the storm and the whirl that my brain seemed to beat like a flail in a barn, and the chairs were all standing on the ceiling. Don't you go no further, sir. You stop here," said the man who seemed to know me, though I did not know him. It would take a male elephant to get to Sunbury to-night. There's been no such snow for six and forty years. Old Jim the Osler can call it to mind. And then it was over the roof, he said. You look uncommon queer already, seem to be standing on your head almost. Why bless me you'd be drinking from the empty glass. But I found the right glass with his help and swallowed the hot brown draft without knowing it. Then I asked him the time, and he said, I own ten o'clock. You take my advice and have a bed here. While willful will and willful won't when it's too late to mend it, he cast this at me as I said good night, and without sitting down staggered out again. I believe that even now I should have reached home safely, not having so very much further to go, if the roads had been wide and straight as they were thus far. But two things were very much against me now, and both of them made a great difference. I had turned from the main road into twisting narrow lanes, and my course was across the wind, instead of right before it. Without that strong wind at my back I could scarcely have reached Hanworth by that time, though it seemed a very long time to take from Notting Hill compared with the usual rate of walking, but now the fierce wind was on my left side quite as often as behind me, and it drove me from my lane as I grew more feeble, and knocked my weary legs into one another. Moreover it seemed to go through me twice as much, and to rattle me like splinters shaken up, and to drive the spikes of snow into my heart almost. If I had walked as in a dream before, I was moving as in a deep sleep now. I had some sort of sense of going on forever as a man has a knowledge of his own snoring, and I have some weak remembrance of beating with my hands for my stick must have gone away long ago to keep off a blanket that was smothering me. Then I seemed to be lifted, and set down somewhere, and it did not matter where it was, and what happened after that was not to me, but to people who told me of it afterwards. For my uncle Corny went to bed that night in a very bad worry of mind, and fitter to grumble at the Lord than to say his prayers. Not from anxiety about his nephew, who was sure to turn up somehow, but because he had frightful misgivings about his glass, and his trees, and his premises at large. The roof of his long binary was buckled in already, when he went with a lantern to look at it, and many of his favorite apple trees, which he loved to go and gaze at on a Sunday, were bowed with the wind and the snow, and hanging in draggles like so much mistletoe. He never swore much at the weather, because it seemed like swearing at heaven, and he had found it grow worse under that sort of treatment. But our tabby Tapscott, who feared to go home and tried to sleep on two chairs in the kitchen, declared that he used some expressions that night, which were quite enough to account for anything. In the morning, however, there was no fault to find with him, as soon as he had done a good hour's work in the deep snow and the nipping wind, and improved his circulation by convincing everybody that he was still as young as he ever was. He relieved the laden trees, wherever it was wise to do so, and with the back of a hay rake, fetched the white encumbrance from the glass, and stamped his feet and shook his coat, and had a path swept here and there, and told himself and Celsius Bill that a good old-fashioned winter was the thing to send all prices up. But when he sat down to breakfast he kept looking at the door, as if for me, and at last he said to Mrs. Tapscott, who was shaking in her apron, why, where is that lazy kid again? Is he frozen to his pillow? Go and give him a good rattle-up. He deserves cold vitals, and he shall have nothing else. It ain't come home, replied Tabby, looking as crossly as she dared at him. What you care for the poor boy, master? I reckon the snow be his winding shade. No more courting for he the sight of kingdom come, I'd lay up any. Kit, not come home. Get out all night, and you let me go on with my trees and roofs. But you know where he is, or you would not take it so. And you snoring away by the kitchen fire, none of your secrets about him, where is Kit? The Lord Almighty knows where he'll be. Poor Tabby began to whine and cry, the secret be with him, not me. A word to come home, but he never did it. A vain job for he to say for an. Veined and dead is a stone, I reckon. And since Kit can take care of himself, he is the strongest young fellow for miles and miles, and accustomed to all sorts of weather. What's a bit of snow to a young man like Kit? You women always make the worst of everything. What'll it be, and come home? Answered Tabby with all reason. I would have come home, if so, be here one drowned in the snow, I tell ye, sir. No more courting for master Kit in this life, I may do what it will when kingdom come. Stuff! cried my uncle, not caring to discuss this extreme test of my constancy. He has stopped at some house on the road or up there. Perhaps the professor would not let him go, when he saw how bad the weather was. There's nothing to be done till the post comes in, though I am not sure that the post will be able to get in. If the letters are not here by ten o'clock I shall go to Hampton to look for them. They are pretty sure to get that far. The morning was fine, though bitterly cold after that very heavy fall, and people began to get about again, though the drifts were too deep in many places for a carriage to pass till they had been cleared. My uncle set out on foot for Hampton, and there found the mail cart just come in. The postmaster was in a state of flurry and would not open the Sunbury bag, but sent it on by special messenger, as the cart could get no further. My uncle had the pleasure of walking with it as far as our post office, and after all that there was nothing for him. Well, a man must eat, was his sound reflection. I shall have a bit of dinner and consider what to do. He was getting on for two o'clock, as he told me, when a man who had come from the bear at Hanworth upon some particular business in our village, knocked at my uncle's door on his return, to say that I had forgotten, which was the truth, to pay for what I had the night before. He was also to ask how I got home, because I had looked uncommon, dicky, as he beautifully expressed it. In half an hour every man in Sunbury, owning a good pair of legs and even a number of women and boys, set forth to search the roads and fields, for it was hard sometimes to tell which was which, in the direction of Hanworth. This was no small proof of the goodwill and brave humanity of our neighborhood, for any of these people might have lost themselves in the numb frost and the depth of drift, and there were signs of another storm in the northeast. My uncle, with a big shovel on his shoulder and a bottle of brandy in his pocket, put a guinea upon me at first, and then two, and then jumped a five pounds, and even ten, as the hope of discovery waned. And at last, when some had abandoned the search and others were muffling themselves against the new snowstorm, he mounted a gate, and with both hands to his mouth shouted, Five and twenty pounds for my nephew Kent, dead or alive, twenty-five pounds reward to any one who finds Christopher Orcherson. This may be a great deal of money for anybody to put me at, except my own mother, if I had one. And the people who heard it were of that opinion, none of them being aware, perhaps, that the reward would come out of my mother's property, which had no trustees to prevent it, and for many years afterwards, if I dared to think anything said or done by my uncle was anything short of perfection, the women, and the men would ask, as if I were made of ingratitude, who offered five and twenty pounds for you, and they felt the effect of it now so strongly that a loud hurrah went along the white plain, and several stout fellows who were turning home turned back again and flapped themselves, saying, Never say die! With one accord a fresh pursuit began, though perhaps of a ghost whiter than the snow, and taking care to keep in sight for one another, they began to poke more holes, wherever they could poke them, for some had kidney bean sticks and some had garden forks and some had sharp pitchforks from the stable, and if they had found me I had surely been riddled, and perhaps had both my eyes poked out, but the Lord was good to me once more, and I escaped being trust as I might have been, for just when it was growing dark and another bitter night was setting in, with spangles of hard snow driving, as they said, like a glazier's diamond into their eyes, and even the hardiest man was saying that nothing more could be done for it. Through the drifting of the white and the lowering of the gray, a high meddled horse came churning. It was beautiful, everybody thought, to see him scattering the snow like highway dust, flinging from his nostrils scornful volumes, with his great eyes flashing like a lighthouse in the foam, men huddled aside, lest he should spurn them like a drift, for his courage was roused, and he knew no fear, but gloried in the power of his leap and plunge. Giving it over, are you all? Sam Henderson shouted as he drew the rain and his favorite stallion harrow stood, and looked with the light contempt at them. Then a horse and dog shall shame your pluck. From beneath the short, rough cloak he wore, a pair of sharp eyes shown like jewels, and two little ears pricked up the thorns. Spike is the best man here, said Sam, as the white-acres crowded round him. All you have done is to spoil the track. Keep behind me, and let me see things for myself. My uncle, who had never been fond of Sam, said something disdainful and turned away, but Henderson, without even looking at him, rowed on, and the best men followed him. He took them almost to the Bear Hotel, watching both sides of the road, as he went, and still keeping his dog before him. Then he turned back, and said, Keep you all on my left. None of you tread any gap on the right. I saw the place as I came along. When the moon gets clear we shall find him. The snow cloud in the east began to lift, and the moon came out with a bronzy flush, as my uncle told me afterwards. And the broad expanse of snow was flickered with one light and with gliding shades. Then all came back to the place where Sam, being mounted and able to command the slope, had discovered certain dimples, for there were nothing more which might have been the trace of footsteps snowed over. Here he gave his horse to be held, and leaving the road with his little Scotch terrier spike, scooped the light surface from one of the marks, and found a hard clot beneath it. He put the dog's nose in, and patted them, and Spike gave a yelp, as if a rat were in prospect. Let him alone! Don't say a word to him! cried Sam, as our people grew eager. He don't want you to teach him his business. If you know your own half as well there'd be less money in London than in Sunbury. Keep back, I say, all of you. A little dog led them across a broad meadow, two or three hundred yards from the highway, yet in a straighter line toward Sunbury, and nearly in the track of an old footpath. Then he stopped in a dip, where a great rise of snow like a surge of ground swell swung away from them, and combed over into the field beyond without breaking, like the ground swell frozen. They said that it was a most beautiful sight such as they never had seen before, and could scarcely hope to see again in one lifetime, reminding them of the great waxworks, when the wax was being bleached at Tennington, but they could not stop to look at it, and the little dog went round and dived into the tunnel on the further side. Presently he yapped, as if in hot chase of a rabbit, and an active young fellow jumped through the great wave and was swallowed up, leaving his hat behind. Then they heard him crying faintly, Here he is! Come round and dig us out on this side! It is a strange thing, and I have not the smallest remembrance of having done it, but I must have dragged my frozen body through the hedge, in the cope of life with death, and got on the leeward side of a stiff bulwark of newly bill-hooked ash-plant, which stopped the sweep of drift, and served to cast it like the lap of a counterpane over me. In the bottom where I lay there was scarcely any snow, but a soft bed of fallen leaves, upon which they found me lying, like a gate-post flung by, to season. That is a doornail! said Raspelmaker. Here, stiff as a starfish, cried Plugs the Growsher who had spent his last holidays at the seaside. I am colder than a skin-deal, added Jake's, the barrowman. But my uncle said, Out with you, coward, lot of curse! Our kits shall outlive every one of you. The Lord hath not put him in that nest for nothing. Then Sam Henderson pulled off his cloak like the good Samaritan, and threw it over me, and taking me by the shoulders, with my uncle at the feet, he helped to bear my stiff body back to the road, where they set me upon Harrow, with my head upon his mane, and the young man who had jumped into the drift was sent ahead to fetch Dr. Sipitz to my uncle's house. CHAPTER XXV That season there was no Christmas Tide for me, no Happy New Year to wish to others and to be wished, nor even so much as a Valentine's Day to send poems to girls and get caricatures. In the leeward of the windstorm I had been saved by a merciful power from the frost of death, and by constant care and indefatigable skill I was slowly brought back into the warmth of life. What strong as I was, and of tough and active frame, with habits of temperance and exercise, there was no making little of the mischief done, and I could not have survived it if I had been a clever fellow. For one of the most racking and deadly evils of all that beset the human frame was established in mine, and there worked its savage will. When I was just beginning to get warm again and to ask where I was and to stretch my tingling joints, symptoms of rheumatic fever showed, and for weeks and for months it ran its agonizing course. The doctor did all that any man could do, and my uncle went up to his cupboard, in the wall by the head of his bed, and brought down a leather bag, and looked at it fondly, and then looked at me. It was put by for a rainy day, and there can't be a rainier day than this. He said with some drops in his own eyes, as Tabby told me afterwards. Let the business go to the dogs, if it will. Where is the use of keeping up with no one to keep up for? Undercipits, I never thought to see this day, fetch the best man in London and let him cheat me if he will. If I had been at all a clever fellow my mind would have stayed with me, and worried out my heart, when dreadfully pushed to carry on its proper work, with the lowering and the heightening and the quivering of the pulse, but being just a simple mind that took its cue from body, and depended on the brain for motion and the eyes for guidance. When these went amiss it quite struck work, and never even asked who its master was. Thus it came to pass that kitties' sweet and tender letters lay upon a shelf but a yard or two away, and no hand was yet stretched out for them. At last there came a letter sent in special trouble, as was plain from many signs upon it, and from the mode of its delivery. For Mrs. Wilcox came herself, the roads being once more passable, and perceiving how things were in the house had a long talk with my uncle. This good woman, as I may have said, was much attached to Miss Fairthorne, and had promised to take charge of my replies, and even to give me tidings of her if anything happened to disable her from writing. But no provision had been made for any default on my part, as I was supposed to be free and strong and sure to come when called for. The poor young thing has been in such a taking, Mrs. Wilcox told my uncle, and not having so much as a single line from your poor nephew, you see, sir. You may put it to yourself how you would feel to be looking and looking for letters about business, and this is worse than business to young folk. They goes on as if it was all the world to them, and Miss Kitty always did have such an uncommon tender heart, you never see the like of it in all your life. What was she to conclude except that Mr. Kidd had thrown her over and perhaps taken up with some of them country girls down here? It wasn't, you see, sir, as if he had written once and told her he meant to stick fast to her. And yet she couldn't bring her mind for to believe that such a nice young gent would be guilty of such conduct, and, of course, she knows right well how beautiful she is, though you never see her look that sort of way as young ladies with a quarter of her good looks does. I declare to you, sir, when I was in the bus, holding of this bag exactly as you see me now, I felt that I could scratch out both his eyes, tall and strong as he is by Miss Kitty's account. Bless her gentle heart what a way she will be in when she knows that she have thought ill of him undeserving, though a relief, sir, on the whole, for I believe she never done it, and better be in a snowdrift than belong to another woman. You are a remarkably sensible lady, said my uncle, desiring to make the best of things. But I do not like to open Kit's letters, and there are six of them already on a bracket by his bed, waiting till he comes round a bit. You must understand, Mrs. Wilcox, what this means. He isn't off his head exactly, but—you know that we all get a little abroad when we lie in our back so long as not to know our legs. I do, sir, I do. I can feel it all through me by means of what happened to my own husband. Ah, he was a man. Could take a scuttleful of coals and hold it out straight the same as you might march up the aisle on a Sunday with your hat right a-forward to show that it was brushed and shining. But poor Wilcox, he went away at last with a tub of clothes in his lungs, and the same may occur to the best of us maint at Mr. Orchardson, but if you feel the delicate sort of feeling about breaking open the young lady's letter and the young gent from the snow-drift is still looking at his legs, I can tell you a good bit of what is going on, though I never was one, and Wilcox knew it, for hearkening so much as a word they say, when the women have done with their tees and the men stand against the low-green palings with a pot and a pipe as long as their shirt-sleeves. Well, sir, it do appear that two bad ones has turned up. There and above the one always there, which I will not name consequent upon fear. One was, sir, Cumber and Satchpots, or some such name, proving to be a wicked man from the north, and the other was her brother, as ought to be all over according to the flesh of marriage, sir. Donovan Bolrag is his name, but every one prefer to call him Downey. A hulking young man is my opinion of him, and it has been my lot to behold a good many. You may see it on the table, sir, that come down from the mount going into church any Sunday, that such is forbidden by the law of Moses for any Christian man to marry. Their father is one, and their mother is one, and have no right to make a pair of them. You hold on with that, sir, as a respectable man who has trodden his way in the world is bound to do? Yes, Mrs. Wilcox, I hold to it strongly, said my uncle. If I understand you, do you mean to tell me that this young man, there is the fact, sir, and none of my telling? I was always of every bad hand at telling, though Wilcox he used to say otherwise when he might be overcome in argument, but facts are no facts, the truth is, as I tell you. This Mr. Donovan have come home from Germany, or some such foreign parts, and whatever his meaning is, that is what it comes to. This kitty can't have no peace with him, and a yellow young man, Mr. Orchardson, as yellow as a daffodil, his hair and beard and eyes. I don't care a fig what his color may be, cried my uncle now being on his high robes. He must be a black blackard and nothing else if he dares to take advantage of a girl he should protect. Poor kitty, what a pretty kettle of fish she is in. You need not tell me, ma'am, I can see it all. I have always had a gift in that way, though I have not had so very much to do with women, for which I thank the Lord every night of my life. I understand their ways as well as if I had been one of them. Then you must be a wonderful man, sir, indeed, the most wonderful I ever come across. Mrs. Wilcox smoothed her dress as if to ask what was inside it, but reserved her own opinion as to what was not. I mean it, said my uncle, who grew stronger always whenever called in question. It may not be the general thing, but so it is with me, and now I would venture to ask you, ma'am, what you consider the next thing to do. Well, replied the lady, highly flattered by request for advice from such an oracle, if I were a strong man and a very clever one, I know what I should do at once. I should go up and fetch her away from them all, and let none of them come anire. And what would you say, ma'am, supposing you had done it, when you found yourself served the next morning perhaps with a warrant for abduction of a maiden underage, and then committed for trial as a criminal? What would you say to that, Mrs. Wilcox? I should say that the laws was outrageous and made for the encouragement of ice and wickedness, and I should put it in the newspapers right and left till the public came and broke down the doors of the jail, and got up a public subscription for me. Where is her father? What is he about? My uncle thought at waste of time to argue after that. Her father is the only person who can interfere. Has he been knocked on the head and killed by one of his own battering-rams? Mr. Orchardson's knowledge of scientific matters is more elementary than even mine. Not to my knowledge, sir, though like enough that will be the end of him, he have gone to the ends of the earth, I believe, to arrange for going ever so much further in the spring. There is no help to be got from him, sir, now, if there ever was any chance of it, the poor young lady is delivered as a lamb between two lions to devour her, with a Tigris patting them on the back and holding her down while they carry it out. What will Mr. Kits say if you allow it, sir? You may be quite sure that I will never allow it, though at present I cannot see what to do. You have quicker wits than we have, ma'am. I ask you again, is there anything you can think of? Has her father any friends who would take her in? Not one, to my knowledge," answered Mrs. Wilcox, after counting on her fingertips those names that she had heard of. That dreadful creature have contrived to make every lady in the land afraid of her, and the poor professor only knows the learned men, and the learneder they are the less they cares for one another, is the learning that is at the foot of all this trouble. You must see it so yourself, sir, when you come to think about it. And the law, Mrs. Wilcox, the law is still worse. She is not of age, you see, and her father has placed her at any rate left her in the charge of that woman, whom he has been fool enough to marry. If my nephew were in health I should say to him at once, the bull by the horns, or at least take the young lady, get a license, and marry her, and defy those people. Her father's consent has been given, and if he chooses to leave her in that helpless state you must rescue her and have no shilly-shallying. But for me to come and take her is another pair of shoes. Am I ruin her fair name, as well as give me into trouble? And what could I do with her when I had got her? You are right, sir, I see it all this clearly as you put it. But will you come up and have a talk with her? A word from you will go as far as ten from me, and it would make her feel so much less forsaken like. I could manage to get her down to my little place, and the news I have got for her about poor Mr. Kitt will set her up in one way, while it knocks her down in another. Oh! How she have cried to think he could be so false to her, because she wouldn't believe a single word of it all the blessed time. And now if I can send my little Ted to her to-night, the sharpest little chap he is, in all the brick-and-mortar trade, he have never lost a six-pence, sir, from all them roaring navies, though you might not think it, he will brisk her up amazingly. There is nothing so haggonizing to the female spirit, sir, as to find itself forsaken by the other sex. And your nephew, Master Kitt, you mustn't think of dying yet. No cough about him, sir, nor nothing in the kidneys, only got a chill from being frozen to a icicle, and his head upon the moon, which goes for nothing. Lord, sir, the number of young men comes every day, from the best part of London, too, according to my Ted, a staring at the great works round our way, which is to be the fashion in a few more years, and not a head among them fit to go upon a donkey. It doesn't matter what's the matter with the head. One item, sir, in these new times now upon us, an increasing daily, keep your spirits up, sir, and I shall tell Miss Kitty. A young man, as is all right, except inside his head, isn't no more to complain of than a cuckoo-clock that have left off striking, and keeps better time for that. What time did you say the last bus at Hampton was, sir? If I was to lose it, wherever should I be? And a good step from here to Hampton, too. I will send you to Hampton in the spring-cart, Mrs. Wilcox," said my uncle, warmly joining in her estimate of the age, and to-morrow, if the roads permit, I shall hope to call upon you, about eleven o'clock. And if you can manage to get Miss Fairthorne to meet me, why it may be a little comfort to her, and we may be able, perhaps, to see what can be done for her. CHAPTER XXVI It could hardly be expected that my uncle Cornie should grow very miserable about this matter. He knew that young people of the ordinary cast tumble into love and tumble out again, with perhaps a little running of the eyes and nose, and a hat crushed on the head or a ribbon saturated, but nothing that penetrates the skin, far less puts a tub of clothes, as Mrs. Wilcox said, into the lungs. And it would not have been reasonable, to demand of him, that he should believe in any grand distinction between the case of Kitty and myself, and that of any other couple he might come across, in a life whose main nucleus was Covent Garden. At which chiefly moved him, as he told me in the end, and as I might have known without his telling, was the iron sense of justice, gilded happy at the corners, and crowned with a little touch of chivalry, to his sturdy sense of right it seemed a monstrous thing that an innocent girl, and such a lovely girl, should be locked away from all who were longing to help her, and left at the mercy of two bad men. Before he donned his Sunday clothes, though he grumbled a good deal at having to do it, and without a word to me put old spanker in the shafts, and drove away alone in the green spring cart, with a face which made all the village say to one another that he must have a county court job on his hands. Dr. Sippitz, who came to see me every day, had by this time supplied such a row of medicine bottles, that we glazed a new wall with them forty yards long, for he would not allow a farthing on their return, though he put them in the bill at two pence half penny apiece, and that glazing brought him even more than that much again from the number of boys' fingers which he had to dress, for he was as skillful as well as a zealous man, and it is utmost for his patients and his family. He had now begun to exhibit mustard oil externally, as well as zinc and especially sulfur inside, till the sulfur began to ooze through my pores, as if I had been a tea rose suffering from mildew. Then Tabby had to rub me with mustard oil, and the more I groaned the sureer she became of its effect, with his vigorous treatment I began to rally, and even heard Uncle Corny depart, and contrived to steal a peep of him behind the window curtain, but they told me some fib about his errand. When he put up his horse somewhere near Holland Park, he had not far to walk to find Mrs. Wilcox, who received him with great cordiality, and she sent her little Ted, who proved to be the very boy that had guided me among the brick-fields, with a note which he managed to convey to Miss Fairthorne. Rumpus going on, he said when he came back, they makes more rumpus in that house and a score of navies over one red herring. But Cookie's not a bad sort. She'll give it to her. It was nearly an hour before Miss Fairthorne came, and then she was so nervous and downhearted that they scarcely knew what to do with her. At first she had quite forgotten Uncle Corny, having never seen him in his best clothes at home, and being distracted with sorrow and ill usage, for as yet Mrs. Wilcox had been unable to get a word with her about the visit of the day before. Gradually, however, she began to understand what had happened and why she had not heard from me. Then he has not forgotten me after all, she said in a tone that made her old nurse sob, and my uncle look out the window. Something told me all along that he could not forget me any more than I could do such a thing to him. But you say that he is ill, that he has long been ill, and perhaps he will never be well any more. Tell me the truth, I would rather know it. Is he dead? Is he dead, Mr. Orchardson? No, my dear, thank the Lord he is still alive, and getting ever so much better every day. He went off his head just a little for a time, and he did not know me from the man in the moon. And what do you think was the word that was on his tongue all day and all night, too, for that matter? Guess, and I'll tell you if you are right. I know what it was. It began with a K, and it was not of every long word, was it? It was Kitty. Don't tell me that it was anything but Kitty. No, my dear, I won't, because I never tell fibs. Sure enough, that was it. Like a cherry clapper, only in a hundred different tones. I used to say that if you were there you'd get heartily tired of your own name. Never, so long as it came from his lips, but I think I should have broken my heart all the same. It has been the kindest thing you could do to keep all knowledge of this long suspense from me. How soon will he be better? How soon will he be well again? Well enough, I mean, to come down and let me see him. At present, Miss Fairthorn, wherever he is not mustard he is brimstone. You cannot expect him to present himself in that condition. But we have got the mischief out of his joints by this time. Dr. Sippitz considers it a very thing that the element flew there. For his heart will be all right, and that's a great part of the system, in love, his head is of no importance in that condition. And Mrs. Wilcox proved to me last night that it is quite superfluity in the present days. Madam, you know you did, and you did it thoroughly. My uncle gave a wink at Mrs. Wilcox, not with any overture to familiarity, for he was very shy of widows, but to intimate to her that she should talk a little nonsense. After his example as a rescue from hysterics, her poor kitty had been passing through much outrage all the morning, and now to be met with this shock of strange news, bad to her head but perhaps good for her art, after such a long time of dejection was enough to throw the finest daughter of divine science into some confusion as to all her organisms. But she fetched herself back from the precipice of sobs with a deep draft of air and spoke as if she did not feel. If he is being treated like, like beef, I think I ought to have a voice in the matter. Will you let me come down and do it for him, or see that it is done properly? My father has taught me so many things. My dear, said my uncle, being truly thankful to her for not even pulling out her handkerchief, you are the sweetest young lady I have ever met. No, you shall not come down and nurse our kit, not only because it is not the place for you, but also that it might be very bad for him. His mind must not come back with a jerk, however pleasant the jerk may be. He must come round slowly, and he has begun to do it under Tabby Tapscott's scrubbing brush. But you shall come and see him in a week, my dear, if you think you can hold out so long here. And now tell me what is going on to urge your gentle nature, so? The young lady looked at Mrs. Wilcox as if she could hardly tell what to do. She was very unwilling to refuse my uncle anything he might ask her, and yet she could not bring herself to speak of such matters to him. I will tell you all about it when she is gone, said the lady of the shop as if hurried for time. But I know by her look that she is getting in a fright. What will they do if they catch you out, dearie? I defy them. I defy them. They may do what they like. Now I know the kid stands fast to me. After all he has suffered for my sake, am I likely to show the white feather? Uncle Corny, I will come away with you and let them do their worst if you will take me. She pulled her hat down on her forehead and drew her crinoline in a small compass as if she were ready to mount our spring cart, and her manner had such an effect on my uncle, for very pretty girls do even more by attitude than by words or looks, that he saw himself driving her away and looking back with a whistle of defiance at the world. Moreover she had called him Uncle Corny, which put him on his meadow to deserve it, and though there have been few men born as yet, with more gift of decision in her nature, he looked at her lovingly and hesitated. It will not do, Mrs. Wilcox interrupted as if she were once more an office as nurse. Of law I know nothing, sir, and you do, as you was pleased to tell me yesterday. If her father was at home and sanctioned it, no doubt it might be in your jurisdiction. The good lady was proud of her law and repeated. It might be in your jurisdiction, sir. But without any sign of that, where should we be? Hold up for conspiracy against the realm and nothing for me, but to put my shutters up. I fear that you are right, ma'am, replied my uncle, though I don't care too pence for the law sometimes, when I feel better law inside me. But as young lady we must think of first, we must let her do nothing to injure herself. Half-patience, my dear, they may torment you in the house, but they cannot take you proud of it, and marry you to anybody against your own will and pleasure. Your will and pleasure is to have our kit, and with the will of the Lord you shall do so. I suppose I must go back. There seems nothing else to do. Miss Fairthorn spoke very sadly, looking from one to the other and trying to be cheerful. But if the worst comes to the worst, will you find a place for me, Uncle Corny? I have got a little money, my dear father gave me, and they shall take away my life before they get it. Bravo! Well said indeed, my dear. This alone was needed to confirm my uncle in his high opinion of her. What a life you will make for a steady young man! Yes, my dear child, I will find you a place, and you shan't pay six pence for it. And none but your father shall take you away unless the Lord Chancellor comes himself to fetch you. Thank you. Then I shall know what to do. I am not so much afraid of them, now I know that kit is true. I shall say to myself, what is this to put up with after all that he is born for me? Give him my best love, and tell him to get well, and sit by the window and look out for me. Goodbye, Uncle Corny. I will not attempt to thank you. Goodbye, nurse. I don't deserve such friends. They may do what they like now, and I shall only laugh. She deserves the best friends, and she shall have them, too, Mr. Orchison said, as soon as she was gone, with little Ted to see the way clear for her. That's what I call a downright good girl, without a bit of humbug in her. A fig for their science. Will it ever produce such a fine bit of nature as that is? Now tell me, as far as you can, Mrs. Wilcox, what is it they want to do with her, and why do they torment her so, and what we can do to stop it? My uncle laid his watch on the table, because he wished to be home before dark, and the days, though drawing out nicely, were not very long. He knew that the lady with whom he had to deal, instead of putting things in the small compass, would fetch a large compass about them, whose radius would only be lengthened by any disturbance or hurry on his part. So he merely placed his watch as a silent, or at least a comparatively quiet, witness, and reproof. But the scheme failed, as it deserved to do. All he obtained by it was a lesson, which he often repeated afterwards. Never set a watch to go against a woman's tongue. It puts her on her medal to outgo it, and one wants winding, but the other never does. Mrs. Wilcox had not so very much to tell, but she found a vast quantity to say, and never set it twice to the same effect. Stripped of her embellishments, reflections, divergencies, and other little sallies, it was something as follows. Captain Fairthorne had been called away to see the fitting of some ship near Glasgow, with engines of a special kind and large coal storage so that she might keep at sea for months together. Seven years, the lady said, but that looked like a lady's tale. And there were to be wonderful appliances, such as never have been heard of on board her, as well as every kind of scientific instrument, all under the Professor's own direction. If ever a man was in his own element, this was the man, and the time and place were there. No wonder that he forgot all other things below the moon. And it was much to his credit that before he started he insisted on a promise from his wife and two step-daughters that his dear child Kitty should be treated kindly and harassed by none of them while he was away. Upon that condition only would he send them every month a handsome sum out of the liberal payment he was to receive for his services, and he thought himself very firm and most sagacious, even suspicious it might be, in providing that before he drew each check he should have by post a line from his own daughter to this effect. I am very happy, and every one is most kind to me. Unluckily his suspicions were not very shrewd, for he forgot that there were pens and ink and fingers at Bullrag Park quite apart from Kitty's. Well able to afford him that assurance in her name, for the gift of forgery was in the family, and his daughter was not to distract him with letters, so long as he knew that she was comfortable. No sooner was he off the scene than the old rake Sir Cumberlay Hotspot reappeared, having purposely kept away till then, for he dreaded the simple and calm man of silence. He annoyed poor Miss Fairthorn with his odious advances and coarse familiarity and slangly talk, and he took a mean advantage of her gentle diffidence by perpetually assuming that she was pledged to him. This, in the contempt and spiteful hatred of her stepmother, seemed more than enough for the poor girl to have to bear. But soon a far greater distress was added. Donovan Bullrag, the only son of the honourable Mrs. Bullrag Fairthorn, as she absurdly called herself, came home from the Continent, where he had been engaged on the staff of some embassy, after running from his debts and the house and the people and the chattels therein were not good enough for him to tread upon. This would have mattered little to Miss Fairthorn, who was rarely favoured with the Bullrag society, except for the purpose of insults if this divine downy, as his mother called him, had not taken into his great yellow head the idea that he was in love with Kitty. This dearly beloved son of his mother was a strong young man of three or four and twenty, able to take his own part anywhere, either with violence or with fraud, but preferring the latter when it would do the trick. Mrs. Wilcox said that he had three crowns to his head, which went beyond all their experience, although she had been in a hospital. She had known malefactors with two sometimes, and you never could tell where their mischief began. Because it started double, but she combed the hair of this boy once and nothing would tempt her to do it again. She was not superstitious but afraid more often of being too much the other way, and she left it entirely to the future to prove her a fool, if she deserved it, only let anyone look at his head. Or it was not only that he was bad inside, but that he gave the same idea at first sight to anyone having any sense of human looks. It was not Mrs. Wilcox alone who said this, but my uncle as well, when he happened to see the young man while going to look for his horse, he had noticed that he might have the luck to meet him and sure enough he had, if there was any luck in it, and my uncle Corny, the woman of strong opinions, did not go so entirely by outward show. Mr. Downey Bolrague is the grandson of a Lord and likely enough to be a Lord himself if people in his way died out of it, had a sense of being somebody, and liked the world to know that he was rather an important part of it. Not that he swaggered or stuck out his arms or jerked himself into big attitudes, as some bits of the human chip do. All that he left for fellows who had yet to prove their value and knew much less of life than he did. His manner and air were of solid and silent conviction, that without him this earth would be a place unfit for a civilized race to inhabit. He prided himself if he had any pride upon his knowledge of human nature, and like most who do that, he attributed every word and every action to selfishness, spite, and cupidity, and like the great bulk of such people again he was truly consistent in his own freedom from any loftier motives. His mother's pet name for him had been confirmed by all who had the honor of knowing him. He was Downey in manner, as well as appearance, and according to the slang of the day a Downey cove in all his actions. No one could look at his bulky form which greatly resembled his father's. Enormous head furnished with bright yellow hair, soft saffron moustache, and orange-colored eyelashes without thinking of a fat Downey apricot and fearing that he had none of its excellence. His face, too, is flattened in its own broad substance, as that yellow fruit often is against the wall, and bulged at the jowl with the great socket of square jaws. But the forehead was the main and most impressive feature, full and round, and almost beatling, wider even than the great wide jaws, but for its heaviness it would have looked like the bulwark of a mighty brain, and there was room for the brain of a coveeer in that head. My good Uncle Corny meeting this man in the road and knowing who he was from description received, clapped his keen gray eyes with emphasis upon him, as much as to say, I mean to look through you, young man. Downey, with his usual self-esteem, which stands like a dummy at every loophole when the garrison of self-respect is gone, gazed at the grower with a placid acceptance of rustic admiration, little did he dream that another creek of his boots would have brought the crack of a big whip round his lines. For my uncle was a hasty man sometimes, and can prove it his duty to be so, and the heavy half-simulant look of Downey, as if he were gaping with his eyes almost, was enough to put a quick busy man in a rage, even if he had no bone to pick with the man who was making a dog of him. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of Kitt and Kitty by Richard Dodridge Blackmore This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 27 Off the Shelf I admit the enjoyment of that bad weather, as one of our workmen called it, when he drew his wages gratis, through having too much at the outset. There had been at least six weeks of frost, some of it very intense, and it was said by those who make a study of such things that Christmas Day 1860 was the coldest day known in the south of England since Christmas Day 1796. And but for a break at the end of the year, when a sudden thaw set in before the steady return of low temperature, it is likely that the Thames would have held an ice-fair above London Bridge, as in 1814, and has threatened again in 1838. But the removal of old London Bridge has made perhaps a great difference in that matter. One of the reasons why I could not get rid of the chill that struck into my system was perhaps the renewed attack of cold every night through all that bitter time. For in old-fashioned houses, like my uncles, there was no fireplace in the bedrooms, and a frying pan full of hot embers, our Tabby's device, used to set us a coughing. Every now and again I seemed to hear, when I called my wits together, the crisp-like glint of the gliding skate, the hollow heel-tab of the glittering slide, and the sharp, merry shouts of boys and men dashing at the hockey-bung in the jagged, slippery huddle. Then more snow fell, and the ice grew treacherous, and all was mantled in a white hush again. But now the days were milder and the ice had broken up, and the roads were full of quagmires as they always are, when a long frost has gone to the bottom of their meadow, and everybody said that it was very brave of my good Aunt Parslow to pay a guinea for a fly, and come all the way from Leatherhead to see if I was still alive. And it was not for the sake of being kept warm on the road, though that was the reason she assigned for it, that she obtained permission from Mr. Chalker to bring his pretty daughter on the visit she was paying. Miss Parslow was long past the age of love-making, and had made a sound investment of her affections among the grateful canine race, but none the less for that she felt an interest in watching the progress, or it might even be the backslidings of her own species in the fine old game. And Sam Henderson had conquered all her prejudice against him by riding over more than once in the worst state of the roads, when no wheels could pass over them, for no other purpose as he positively avowed than to comfort her kind heart about her dear nephew's illness. Don't tell me, she said as soon as she had seen me and cried over me a little, for I was desperately weak, what he wants is warmth and change of air, and particularly careful nursing. He will fall into a decline if he stops here, and then what will become of his darling kitty? What chance has he here in this wretched little room like a frog or an empty bucket hanging in a well? And here you are giving him gruel and tapioca. Has he ever had a pint of real turtle? Just answer me that, Mr. Orchison. Well, no, replied my uncle, looking at her with surprise. I never heard that Turtle was for any but Lord Mayors. Kid has had everything regardless of expense, that our skillful Dr. Sippitz recommended him. Perhaps you know better than he does, Miss Parslow, and the bottles of stuff every two hours, day and night, with half a pint rubbed in at frequent intervals till he groans, and that shows that it has acted on his system. System indeed! There is no system in it except to kill him in spite of the Parslow Constitution. The roads are very soft, but I shall send for him to-morrow with a proper close carriage and a pair of horses, and if you try to prevent it, let his death lie at your door. There is no doubt, said my uncle after some consideration, that your house is much warmer and better fitted up than this with warm baths and all that which he ought to have. And Sippitz said that change of air would be a great thing for him. I will see him before you go away, and if he thinks it would be safe, let it be so, ma'am. But you must not suppose that I have grudged him anything, and a very pretty bill there will be for me to pay. Miss Chalker, meanwhile, made a great discovery, to wit that she had never seen Hampton Court, and Sam Henderson, who happened to come in to ask for me, found out that he had business there that very afternoon. So after dining with my uncle, off they sat together and Miss Parslow undertook to call for her companion upon her way back to Leatherhead. Sam had gone up several pages in Mr. Orchardson's good books by his rescue of me and even more by his refusal of the handsome reward which he might have claimed for it, and now there were very few days when he did not come down and offer counsel and perhaps bring a hare or rabbit. And my uncle liked his stories of the lords and ladies, even when he was unable to believe them. Now I am not going home without a little talk with you, said Aunt Parslow to her host when the young couple had made off. I must be rude enough to ask you just to spare me a little time, and I don't think you can do much on the ground just now. It must be quite unfit to work, after all the snow and thaw and rain again coming on the top of it. And the land must be so cold that the spring will be very late. You see, I know a little about gardening, too. Will you try to spare me half an hour as I can come so seldom? I am always at the service of the ladies, however busy I may be. My uncle's answer was truly polite, but not so true in other points. The spring will be very late, and therefore summer will find us all behind. I mean, if we get any summer at all. It is quite likely that we shall not, and that makes it unwise for us to be in any hurry, Mr. Orchardson. You have a special gift of never being in a hurry. We women always envy that way of taking things, because we cannot hope to attain to it. You know what we are, don't you? All that is delightful, ma'am, so far as I have had any opportunity of learning. And all that is reasonable, wherever there is nothing particular to interfere with it. I assure you that I have the highest respect for—for the way that you generally go on. You pay me a very high compliment, sir, and I wish that we all deserved it, but I am sure you will admit that I am reason itself in asking you one or two little questions. There was a little money that fell in as a sort of windfall, or whatever you call it, to my niece, the mother of this unlucky kit. I scarcely know what the exact sum was, though of course I could easily find out, but it must have been about two thousand pounds. I believe that it came into your possession as his next of kin, but in trust for him, of course. And I conclude that as he is long been of age, you have handed it over to Kit himself. Not I, ma'am, cried my uncle, who was as honest as the day. That would have been the worst thing I could do. I have told him of it several times and strongly recommended to him to let me apply it for his benefit. Kit is a sensible and upright fellow, and he knows when he is in good hands that he does, and he is capable of managing his own affairs without anybody's interference. Without even his uncles? asked Miss Parslow with a smile. Yes, ma'am, and without even his great aunts, Mr. Orchison answered with a frown. I have no doubt that you have acted for the best, the lady returned, for she wished to do no harm, and saw that it would cost me more than two thousand pounds to have Uncle Corny set against me. And it is the best thing that could have happened to him, to come into his capital when he wants it, without having had a chance of making any hole in it. I dare say he is not the least idea what it is, and it will be a nice little nest egg when he wants a nest. I have never let him know how much it is, and I do not mean to tell him till I hand it over. I have never touched up any of it, my dear madam, which I never would have told you if you had shown a doubt of me. I have allowed it to accumulate at four percent, and the sum is now three thousand five hundred pounds, which will be transferred into the name of Kitt on the day that he marries Miss Farathorn. I should have thought myself justified in deducting the twenty-five pounds reward for his stupidity in losing himself in the snow, but Mr. Henderson will not accept it. I have kept Kitt from a baby, and he was dreadful with his clothes, and broke the backs of nearly all the books he had at school. But I shall not charge him six pence, ma'am. He has worked well for me, and he can lay in a tree very nearly as well as I can. Mr. Orchardson, you are a gentleman, cried my aunt, much impressed with the increase of money, and I would ask you as a favor and return for my inquiries to allow me to discharge Dr. Sippet's account. With pleasure, Miss Parslow, for it will be very stiff, and the uphill time of the year is before me. I do not pretend to be a gentleman, madam, but I should not be a man if I wronged my brother's baby. The only thing I ask you is to keep this from Kitt's knowledge, and leave me to tell him in my own time. I have hinted to him once or twice that he has something coming, but if I were to tell him he would go and tell his kitty, and I wish it to be kept from all that lot. He shall not know a word of it through me, I can assure you, and I shall consider what I can do for them. But the first thing is to set him on his legs again. At this very moment I was being set by a happy little accident upon my legs, as well as enjoying a delight which no money at the finest compound interest can ensure. In the corner of the room, which my aunt had so decried, and where I had passed so many miserable weeks, an old wooden bracket with three little shells was nailed against the yellow ochre-ed wall. I had often cast my weary eyes in that direction, and vaguely watched a spider who was in a doleful plight, with his legs drawn together and no stomach left between them. Such a time was it since he had tasted a good fly. On the bottom shell for bottles of a loathsome disposition, pill boxes and galley-pots, and measures no less repulsive to good taste. On the middle shelf lay my mother's prayer-book, and some papers of directions and orders and powders and the like, but what was on the top shelf I could not tell, and it often wondered languidly in the wanderings of hazy speculation. And I might have been content to wonder still, without any guidepost of interest, if I had not heard Miss Parslow say, ah, that would do him a lot more good than those, as she pointed to the top shelf and then to the others. For a time I forgot all about it and fell into a little sleep of indifference, by being aroused by the sound of plates and dishes and the clanking of glasses down below, along to know what they were having for dinner, and what was the joke they were laughing at. Then a lovely smell of something came into the room, and my head went round with the effort of searching itself for a name of that fragrance, although it was nothing but fried calves-liver, with which Mrs. Tapscott was skillful. Shall I ever have that again, instead of filthy nastiness, was all that I had sense enough to want to know? And then I thought somehow of the starving spider, and looked to ask whether he was dead yet. Not only was he not dead, but clearly, after seeing rain once more upon the window panes, he made up his mind that life was worth living, and a little activity might make it more so, where he got his stuff from is more than I can tell, for any man would have vowed that his meager body could never have supplied him with a hundredth part of the dreamiest film of a gossamer. However, he knew his own business best, and he was at it as if he were paid by the peace. Being hungry myself I could sympathize with him while detesting his bloodthirstiness as every man must do who lives on beef and mutton, and I saw that he was scheming to attach his tent cords to a coin of great vantage on the top shelf of the bracket. When spiders go thrumming, there is wild weather coming, came clumsily into my half-saved mind, and then floated into it like a gossamer adrift. Those mysterious words of Aunt Parslow, like the spider I desire to be on the move, and partly perhaps through the very same cause, the yearning for a wholesome bit to flush, at any rate, being left all alone for the resources of the establishment were at full pressure upon hospitality, I resolved to know what was on that shelf, though it might be my destiny to perish in the attempt. This was not at all an easy job for a fellow who had spent two months on his back, and my weakness amazed me when I tried to walk, and I seemed to be twice my own proper length. Then I burst into a laugh at my own condition and tried to move a little chair to help me get along, but found it made of lead, and had to coast around it. My sense of distance was also entirely thrown out, for the room was quite a little one, and yet it seemed a gallery. At last, by some process of sprawling and crawling, I laid hold of the corner bracket, and lifting myself with some difficulty, contrived to grasp all that was on the top shelf. A little pile of letters was in my right hand, and a light shot into my eyes and a gleam of soft warmth flowed into my heart. Then I crawled back to my narrow bed, so nearly exchanged for a narrower, and lay my treasure on my shrunken breast, and turned on my side that it might not slide away. I felt as if there were two kits now, one who knew nothing about it, and the other who wanted it all to himself, and perhaps that other kit was kitty. How long I continued in this crazed condition it is impossible for me to say, but assures the goodness of God is with us, it saved my reason and my life, for by and by a warmth of blood flowed through me, and the sense of being in a large sweet world, then memory awoke, and pain was gone, and it was like a little child looking at its mother. I did not read a word nor care to read, but I knew whose hand was on my heart, and I would not disturb it by a stirrer of thought, but was satisfied with it, for it was everything, and so I fell into a long, deep sleep, and when I awoke, I was a man again.