 CHAPTER 39 A Scheme of Escape. My greatest source of uneasiness in this time of trial was my son, whom his father and his father's friends delighted to encourage in all the embryo vices a little child can show, and to instruct in all the evil habits he could acquire. In a word, to make a man of him was one of their staple amusements, and I need say no more to justify my alarm on his account, and my determination to deliver him at any hazard from the hands of such instructors. I first attempted to keep him always with me or in the nursery, and gave Rachel particular injunctions never to let him come down to desert as long as these gentlemen stayed. But it was no use. These orders were immediately countermanded and overruled by his father. He was not going to have the little fellow moped to death between an old nurse and a cursed fool of a mother. So the little fellow came down every evening, in spite of his cross mama, and learned to tipple wine like papa, to swear like Mr. Hattersley, and to have his own way like a man, and sent mama to the devil when she tried to prevent him. To see such things done, with the roguish naivete of that pretty little child, and hear such things spoken by that small infantile voice, was as peculiarly peckant and irresistibly droll to them as it was inexpressibly distressing and painful to me, and when he had set the table in a roar, he would look round delightedly upon them all, and add his shrill laugh to theirs. But if that beaming blue eye rested on me, its light would vanish for a moment, and he would say, in some concern, Mama, why don't you laugh? Make her laugh, papa. She never will. Since I was obliged to stay among these human brutes, watching an opportunity to get my child away from them, instead of leaving them immediately after the removal of the cloth, as I should always otherwise have done, he was never willing to go, and I frequently had to carry him away by force, for which he thought me very cruel and unjust, and sometimes his father would insist upon my letting him remain. And then I would leave him to his kind friends, and retire to indulge my bitterness and despair, alone or to rack my brains for a remedy to this great evil. But here again I must do Mr. Hargrave the justice to acknowledge that I never saw him laugh at the child's misdemeanors, nor heard him utter a word of encouragement to his aspirations after manly accomplishments. But when anything very extraordinary was said or done by the infant profligate, I noticed at times a peculiar expression in his face, that I could neither interpret nor define, a slight twitching about the muscles of the mouth, a sudden flash in the eye, as he darted a sudden glance at the child, and then at me. And then I could fancy there arose a gleam of hard, keen, sombre satisfaction in his countenance at the look of impotent wrath and anguish. He was too certain to behold in mine. But on one occasion, when Arthur had been behaving particularly ill, and Mr. Huntington and his guests had been particularly provoking and insulting to me in their encouragement of him, and I particularly anxious to get him out of the room, and on the very point of demeaning myself by a burst of uncontrollable passion, Mr. Hargrave suddenly rose from his seat, with an aspect of stern determination, lifted the child from his father's knee where he was sitting, half tipsy, cocking his head and laughing at me, and execrating me with words he little knew the meaning of, handed him out of the room, and, setting him down in the hall, held the door open for me, gravely bowed as I withdrew, and closed it after me. I heard high words exchanged between him and his already half inebriated host as I departed, leading away my bewildered and disconcerted boy. But this should not continue. My child must not be abandoned to this corruption. Better far that he should live in poverty and obscurity with a fugitive mother, than in luxury and affluence with such a father. These guests might not be with us long, but they would return again, and he, the most injurious of the whole, his child's worst enemy, would still remain. I could endure it for myself, but for my son it must be born no longer. The world's opinion, and the feelings of my friends, must be alike unheeded here, at least, alike unable to deter me from my duty. But where should I find an asylum, and how obtain subsistence for us both? Oh, I would take my precious charge at early dawn. Take the coach to M. Fleet to the port of Blank. Cross the Atlantic, and seek a quiet, humble home in New England, where I would support myself and him by the labour of my hands. The pallet and the easel, my darling playmates once, must be my sober toil-fellows now. But was I sufficiently skillful, as an artist, to obtain my livelihood in a strange land, without friends and without recommendations? No. I must wait a little. I must labour hard to improve my talent, and to produce something worthwhile as a specimen of my powers. Something to speak favourably for me, whether as an actual painter or a teacher. And success, of course, I did not look for. But some degree of security, from positive failure, was indispensable. I must not take my son to starve. And then I must have money for the journey, the passage, and some little to support us in our retreat in case I should be unsuccessful at first. And not too little, either, for who could tell how long I might have to struggle, with the indifference or neglect of others, or my own inexperience or inability to suit their tastes? What should I do, then? Apply to my brother, and explain my circumstances and my resolves to him? No, no. Even if I told him all my grievances, which I should be very reluctant to do, he would be certain to disapprove of the step. It would seem like madness to him, as it would to my uncle and aunt or to Millicent. No, I must have patience, and gather a horde of my own. Rachel should be my only confidant. I thought I could persuade her into the scheme, and she should help me, first to find out a picture-dealer in some distant town, then, through her means, I would privately sell what pictures I had on hand, that would do for such a purpose, and some of those I should thereafter paint. Besides this I would contrive to dispose of my jewels, not the family jewels, but the few I brought with me from home, and those my uncle gave me on my marriage. A few months our Jewish toil might well be borne by me, with such an end in view, and in the interim my son could not be much more injured than he was already. Having formed this resolution, I immediately set to work to accomplish it. I might possibly have been induced to wax-cool upon it afterwards, or perhaps to keep weighing the pros and cons in my mind till the latter overbalanced the former, and I was driven to relinquish the project altogether, or delay the execution of it to an indefinite period, had not something occurred to confirm me in that determination to which I still adhere, which I still think I did well to form, and shall do better to execute. Since Lord Lobara's departure I had regarded the library as entirely my own, a secure retreat at all hours of the day. None of our gentlemen had the smallest pretensions to a literary taste, except Mr. Hargrave, and he at present was quite contented with the newspapers and periodicals of the day, and if by any chance he should look in here I felt assured he would soon depart on seeing me, for, instead of becoming less cool and distant towards me, he had become decidedly more so since the departure of his mother and sisters, which was just what I wished. Here then I set up my easel, and here I worked at my canvas from daylight till dusk, with very little intermission, saving when pure necessity, or my duties to little Arthur called me away, for I still thought proper to devote some portion of every day exclusively to his instruction and amusement. But contrary to my expectation, on the third morning, while I was thus employed, Mr. Hargrave did look in, and did not immediately withdraw on seeing me. He apologised for his intrusion, and said he was only come for a book. But when he had got it, he condescended to cast a glance over my picture. Being a man of taste, he had something to say on this subject as well as another, and having modestly commented on it, without much encouragement from me, he proceeded to expatiate on the art in general. Receiving no encouragement in that either, he dropped it, but did not depart. "'You don't give us much of your company,' Mrs. Huntingdon, observed he after a brief pause, during which I went on coolly mixing and tempering my colours. And I cannot wonder at it, for you must be heartily sick of us all. I myself am so thoroughly ashamed of my companions, and so weary of their irrational conversation and pursuits. Now that there is no one to humanise them, and keep them in check, since you have justly abandoned us to our own devices, that I think I shall presently withdraw from amongst them, probably within this week, and I cannot suppose you will regret my departure.' He paused. I did not answer. "'Probably,' he added with a smile, "'your only regret on the subject will be that I do not take all my companions along with me. I flatter myself at times, that though among them I am not of them, but it is natural that you should be glad to get rid of me. I may regret this, but I cannot blame you for it. I shall not rejoice at your departure, for you can conduct yourself like a gentleman,' said I, thinking it but right to make some acknowledgment for his good behaviour. But I must confess I shall rejoice to bid adieu to the rest, inhospitable, as it may appear. "'No one can blame you for such an avowal,' replied he gravely. Not even the gentleman themselves, I imagine. I'll just tell you,' he continued, as if actuated by a sudden resolution, what was said last night in the dining-room after you left us. Perhaps you will not mind it as your so very philosophical on certain points,' he added with a slight sneer. They were talking about Lord Lobra and his delectable lady, the cause of whose sudden departure is no secret amongst them, and her character is so well known to them all that, nearly related to me as she is, I could not attempt to defend it. "'God curse me,' he muttered, par parent says. "'If I don't have vengeance for this—if the villain must disgrace the family—must he blazen it abroad to every low-bred nave of his acquaintance—I beg your pardon, Mrs. Huntington.' Well, they were talking of these things, and some of them remarked that, as she was separated from her husband, he might see her again when he pleased. "'Thank you,' said he. "'I've had enough of her for the present. I'll not trouble to see her unless she comes to me.' "'Then what do you mean to do, Huntington, when we are gone?' said Ralph Hattersey. "'Do you mean to turn from the error of your ways and be a good husband, a good father, and so forth, as I do when I get shut of you and all these rollicking devils? You call your friends?' "'I think it's time. And your wife is fifty times too good for you, you know.' And he added some praise of you, which you would not thank me for repeating, nor him for uttering, proclaiming it aloud as he did, without delicacy or discrimination, in an audience where it seemed profanation to utter your name, himself utterly incapable of understanding or appreciating your real excellencies. Huntington, meanwhile, sat quietly drinking his wine, or looking smilingly into his glass, and offering no interruption or reply, till Hattersey shouted out, "'Do you hear me, man?' "'Yes, go on,' said he. "'Nay, I've done,' replied the other. "'I only want to know if you intend to take my advice.' "'What advice?' "'To turn over a new leaf, you double-dyed scoundrel,' shouted Ralph, "'and beg your wife's pardon, and be a good boy for the future.' "'My wife? What wife?' "'I have no wife,' replied Huntington, looking innocently up from his glass. "'Or if I have, look, you gentlemen, I value her so highly, that any one among you that can fancy her may have her and welcome. You may, by Jove, end my blessing into the bargain.' "'I am—someone,' asked if he really meant what he said. Upon which he solemnly swore he did, and no mistake. "'What do you think of that, Mrs. Huntington?' asked Hargrave after a short pause, during which I had felt he was keenly examining my half-averted face. "'I say,' replied I, calmly, that what he prizes so lightly will not be long in his possession. "'You cannot mean that you will break your heart and die for the detestable conduct of an infamous villain like that. By no means. My heart is too thoroughly dried to be broken in a hurry, and I mean to live as long as I can.' "'Will you leave him, then?' "'Yes.' "'When?' "'And how?' asked he eagerly. "'When I am ready. And how I can manage it most effectually. But your child—my child goes with me. He will not allow it. I shall not ask him.' "'Ah, then, it is a secret flight you meditate. But with whom, Mrs. Huntington?' With my son, and possibly his nurse. "'Alone and unprotected? But where can you go? What can you do? He will follow you and bring you back. I have laid my plans too well for that. Let me once get clear of Grastale, and I shall consider myself safe.' Mr. Hargrave advanced one step towards me, looked me in the face, and drew his breath to speak. But that look, that heightened color, that sudden sparkle of the eye, made my blood rise in wrath. I abruptly turned away, and snatching up my brush, began to dash away at my canvas, with rather too much energy for the good of the picture. "'Mrs. Huntington,' said he, with bitter solemnity, "'you are cruel. Cruel to me? Cruel to yourself? Mr. Hargrave, remember your promise. I must speak. My heart will burst if I don't. I have been silent long enough, and you must hear me.' Right he boldly, intercepting my retreat to the door. "'You tell me, you owe no allegiance to your husband. He openly declares himself weary of you, and calmly gives you up to anybody that will take you. You are about to leave him. No one will believe that you go alone. All the world will say. She has left him at last, and who can wonder at it? Few can blame her. Few or still can pity him. But who is the companion of her flight? Thus you will have no credit for your virtue, if you call it such. Even your best friends will not believe in it. Because it is monstrous, and not to be credited. But by those who suffer from the effects of it. Such cruel torments that they know it to be indeed reality. But what can you do in the cold, rough world alone? You, a young and inexperienced woman, delicately nurtured and utterly. In a word you would advise me to stay where I am, interrupted I. Well, I'll see about it. By all means, leave him," cried he earnestly. But not alone. Helen, let me protect you. Never! While Heaven spares my reason," replied I, snatching away the hand he had presumed to seize and press between his own. But he was in for it now. He had fairly broken the barrier. He was completely roused, and determined to hazard all for victory. I must not be denied," exclaimed he vehemently. And seizing both my hands he held them very tight, but dropped upon his knee and looked up in my face with a half imploring, half imperious gaze. You have no reason now. You are flying in the face of Heaven's decrees. God has designed me to be your comfort and protector. I feel it. I know it as certainly as if a voice from Heaven declared, Ye twain shall be one flesh. And you spurn me from you. Let me go, Mr. Hargrave," said I sternly, but he only tightened his grasp. Let me go! I repeated, quivering with indignation. His face was almost opposite the window as he knelt. With a slight start I saw him glance towards it, and then a gleam of malicious triumph lit up his countenance. Looking over my shoulder I beheld a shadow just retiring round the corner. "'That was Grimsby,' said he deliberately. He will report what he has seen to Huntingdon and all the rest, with such embellishments as he thinks proper. He has no love for you, Mrs. Huntingdon. No reverence for your sex. No belief in virtue, no admiration for its image. He will give such a version of this story as will leave no doubt at all about your character in the minds of those who hear it. Your fair fame is gone, and nothing that I or you can say can ever retrieve it. But give me the power to protect you, and show me the villain that dares to insult. "'No one has ever dared to insult me as you are doing now,' said I, at length releasing my hands and recoiling from him. "'I do not insult you,' cried he. I worship you. You are my angel, my divinity. I lay my powers at your feet, and you must and shall accept them.' He exclaimed impetuously, starting to his feet, "'I will be your consolar and defender, and if your conscience upbrayed you for it, say I overcame you, and you could not choose but yield.' I never saw a man so terribly excited. He precipitated himself towards me. I snatched up my palette-knife and held it against him. This startled him. He stood and gazed at me in astonishment. I daresay I looked as fierce and resolute as he. I moved to the bell and put my hand upon the cord. This tamed him still more. With a half-authoritative, half-deprecating wave of the hand he sought to deter me from ringing. "'Stand off, then,' said I. He stepped back. And listen to me. I don't like you.' I continued as deliberately and emphatically as I could. To give the greater efficacy to my words. And if I were divorced from my husband, or if he were dead, I would not marry you. There now. I hope you're satisfied.' His face grew blanched with anger. I am satisfied, he replied, with bitter emphasis, that you are the most cold-hearted, unnatural, ungrateful woman I ever yet beheld. Ungrateful, sir? Ungrateful. No, Mr. Hargrave, I am not. For all the good you ever did me, or ever wished to do, I most sincerely thank you. For all the evil you have done me, and all you would have done, I pray God to pardon you, and make you of a better mind." Here the door was thrown open, and Miss Yeo's Huntingdon and Hattersley appeared without. The latter remained in the hall, busy with his ramrod and his gun. The former walked in, and stood with his back to the fire, surveying Mr. Hargrave and me, particularly the former, with a smile of insupportable meaning, accompanied as it was by the impudence of his brazen brow and the sly, malicious twinkle of his eye. Well, sir? said Hargrave interrogatively, and with the air of one prepared to stand on the defensive. Well, sir? returned his host. We want to know if you're at liberty to join us in a go at the pheasants, Walter, interposed Hattersley, from without. Come, there shall be nothing shot besides, except a puss or two. I'll vouch for that." Walter did not answer, but walked to the window to collect his faculties. Arthur uttered a low whistle, and followed him with his eyes. A slight flush of anger rose to Hargrave's cheek, but in a moment he turned calmly round and said carelessly, "'I came here to bid farewell to Mrs. Huntington, and tell her I must go to-morrow.' Pfft! You're a mighty sudden in your resolution. What takes you off so soon, may I ask?' "'Business,' returned he, repelling the other's incredulous sneer with a glance of scornful defiance. Very good," was the reply, and Hargrave walked away. Thereupon Mr. Huntington, gathering his coat-lapse under his arms, and setting his shoulder against the mantelpiece, turned to me and, addressing me in a low voice, scarcely above his breath, poured forth a volley of the vilest and grossest abuse it was possible for the imagination to conceive or the tongue to utter. I did not attempt to interrupt him, but my spirit kindled within me, and when he had done, I replied, "'If your accusation were true, Mr. Huntington, how dare you blame me?' She's hit it by Jove, cried Hattersley, rearing his gun against the wall and stepping into the room. He took his precious friend by the arm and attempted to drag him away. "'Come on, my lad,' he muttered, "'true or false, you've no right to blame her, you know. Nor him, either, after what you said last night. So come along.' There was something implied here that I could not endure. "'Dare you suspect me, Mr. Hattersley?' said I, almost beside myself, with fury. Nay, nay, I suspect nobody. It's all right, it's all right. So come along, Huntington, you blackard. She can't deny it,' cried the gentleman thus addressed, grinning in mingled rage and triumph. She can't deny it if her life depended on it. And muttering some more abusive language, he walked into the hall and took his hat and gun from the table. "'I scorn to justify myself to you,' said I. "'But you,' turning to Hattersley. "'If you presume to have any doubts on the subject, ask Mr. Hargrave. At this they simultaneously burst into a rude laugh that made my whole frame tingle to the finger's ends. "'Where is he? I'll ask him myself,' said I, advancing towards them. Seeing a new burst of merriment, Hattersley pointed to the outer door. It was half open. His brother-in-law was standing on the front without. "'Mr. Hargrave, will you please to step this way?' said I. He turned and looked at me in grave surprise. "'Step this way, if you please,' I repeated, in so determined a manner, that he could not or did not choose to resist its authority. Not reluctantly he ascended the steps and advanced a pace or two into the hall. And tell those gentlemen, I continued, these men, whether or not I yielded to your solicitations. I don't understand you, Mrs. Huntingdon. You do understand me, sir, and I charge you upon your honour, as a gentleman, if you have any, to answer truly. Did I or did I not? No,' muttered he, turning away. "'Speak up, sir, they can't hear you. Did I grant your request? You did not.' "'No, I'll be sworn she didn't,' said Hattersley, or he'd never look so black. "'I'm willing to grant you the satisfaction of a gentleman,' Huntingdon, said Mr. Hargrave calmly, addressing his host, but with a bitter sneer upon his countenance. "'Go to the deuce,' replied the latter, with an impatient jerk of the head. Hargrave withdrew, with a look of cold disdain, saying, "'You know where to find me, should you feel disposed to send a friend?' Mother Doth's and Curse's were all the answer this intimation obtained. "'Now, Huntingdon, you see,' said Hattersley, clear as the day. "'I don't care what he sees,' said I, or what he imagines. "'But you, Mr. Hattersley, when you hear my name be lied and slandered, will you defend it?' "'I will, blast me if I don't.' I instantly departed, and shut myself into the library. What could possess me to make such a request of such a man? I cannot tell, but drowning men catch at straws. They had driven me desperate between them. I hardly knew what I said. There was no other to preserve my name from being blackened and dispersed among this nest of boon-companions, and threw them perhaps into the world, and beside my abandoned wretch of a husband, the base malignant Grimsby, and the false villain Hargrave, this borish Ruffian, coarse and brutal as he was, shone like a glow-worm in the dark, among its fellow worms. What a scene was this! Could I ever have imagined that I should be doomed to bear such insults under my own roof? To hear such things spoken in my presence. They spoken to me and of me, and by those who irrigated to themselves the name of gentleman. And could I have imagined that I should have been able to endure it as calmly and to repel their insults as firmly and as boldly as I had done? A hardness such as this is taught by rough experience and despair alone. Such thoughts as these chased one another through my mind, as I paced to and fro the room, and longed—oh, how I longed to take my child and leave them now, without an hour's delay. But it could not be. There was work before me. Hard work, that must be done. Then let me do it, said I, and lose not a moment in vain repinings and idle chafings against my fate, and those who influence it. And conquering my agitation with a powerful effort, I immediately resumed my task, and labored hard all day. Mr. Hargrave did depart on the morrow, and I have never seen him since. The others stayed on for two or three weeks longer. But I kept aloof from them as much as possible, and still continued my labor, and have continued it, with almost unabated ardor, to the present day. I soon acquainted Rachel with my design, confiding all my motives and intentions to her ear, and much to my agreeable surprise found little difficulty in persuading her to enter into my views. She is a sober, cautious woman, but she so hates her master, and so loves her mistress and her nursing, that after several ejaculations, a few faint objections, and many tears and lamentations that I should be brought to such a pass, she applauded my resolution and consented to aid me with all her might. On one condition, only, that she might share my exile, otherwise she was utterly inexorable, regarding it as perfect madness for me and Arthur to go alone. With touching generosity she modestly offered to aid me with her little horde of savings, hoping I would excuse her for the liberty, but really, if I would do her the favour to accept it as alone, she should be very happy. Of course I could not think of such a thing. But now, thank heaven, I have gathered a little horde of my own, and my preparations are so far advanced, that I am looking forward to a speedy emancipation. Only let the stormy severity of this winter weather be somewhat abated, and then, some morning, Mr. Huntingdon will come down to a solitary breakfast table, and perhaps be clamoring through the house, for his invisible wife and child, when they are some fifty miles on their way to the western world. Or it may be more, for we shall leave him hours before the dawn, and it is not probable he will discover the loss of both, until the day is far advanced. I am fully alive to the evils that may and must result upon the step I am about to take. But I never waver in my resolution, because I never forget my son. It was only this morning, while I pursued my usual employment. He was sitting at my feet, quietly playing with shreds of canvas I had thrown upon the carpet. But his mind was otherwise occupied. For in a while he looked up wistfully, in my face, and gravely asked, "'Mama, why are you wicked?' Who told you I was wicked, love? Rachel!' "'No, Arthur, Rachel never said so. I am certain.' "'Well, then, it was papa,' replied he thoughtfully. Then, after a reflective pause, he added. At least I'll tell you how it was I got to know. When I'm with papa, if I say mama wants me, or mama says I'm not to do something that he tells me to do, he always says, "'Mama, be damned!' And Rachel says it's only wicked people that are damned. So mama, that's why I think you must be wicked. And I wish you wouldn't.' "'My dear child, I am not. Those are bad words, and wicked people often say them of others better than themselves. Those words cannot make people be damned, nor show that they deserve it. God will judge us by our own thoughts and deeds, not by what others say about us. And when you hear such words spoken, Arthur, remember never to repeat them. It is wicked to say such things of others, not to have them said against you. Then it's papa that's wicked,' said he ruefully. "'Papa is wrong to say such things, and you will be very wrong to imitate him, now that you know better.' What is imitate? To do as he does. Does he know better? Perhaps he does, but that is nothing to you. If he doesn't, you ought to tell him, mama. I have told him.' The little moralist paused and pondered. I tried in vain to divert his mind from the subject. I'm sorry papa's wicked,' said he mournfully at length, for I don't want him to go to hell. And so saying, he burst into tears. I consoled him with the hope that perhaps his papa would alter and become good before he died. But is it not time to deliver him from such a parent? End of CHAPTER XXXVII. January 10, 1827 While writing the above yesterday evening, I sat in the drawing-room. Mr. Hunter then was present, but, as I thought, asleep on the sofa behind me. He had reason, however, unknown to me, and, actuated by some base spirit of curiosity, been looking over my shoulder for I know not how long. For when I had laid the side of my pen and was about to close the book, he suddenly placed his hand up on it and, saying, With your leave, my dear, I have a look at this. Forcibly rested it from me, and, drawing his chair from the table, compulsively sat down to examine it. Turning back, leave after leave, to find an explanation of what he had read. And luckily for me, he was more sober that night than he usually is at such an hour. Of course, I did not leave him to pursue his occupation in quiet. I made several attempts to snatch the book from his hands, but he held it too firmly for that. I operated him in bitterness and scorned for his mean and dishonorable conduct, but that had no effect upon him. And finally, I extinguished both the candles, but he only wheeled around to the fire and, raising a blaze sufficient for his purposes, called me continued the investigation. I had serious thoughts of getting a picture of war and extinguishing that light, too. But it was evident his curiosity was too keenly excited to be quenched by that, and more I manifested my anxiety to baffle his scrutiny, the greater would be his determination to persist in the sight it was too late. It seems very interesting, love, said he, lifting his head and turning to her eyes, too, wringing my hand in silent rage and anguish. But it's rather long. I look at it some other time, and meanwhile I'll travel you for your kiss, my dear. What kiss? The kiss of your cabinet desk drawer and whatever else you possess, said he, rising and holding out his hand. I've not got them, I replied. The key of my desk, in fact, was at that moment in the log, and the others were attached to it. Then you must send for them, said he, and if that old devil Rachel doesn't immediately deliver them up, she trams back and baggage tomorrow. She doesn't know where they are, I answered, quietly placing my hand up on them, and taking them from the desk, as I thought, unobserved. I know, but I shall not give them up without a reason. And I know, too, said he, suddenly seizing my close hand and rudely abstracting them from it. He then took up one of the candles and relighted it by thrusting it into the fire. Now, then, sneered he, we must have a confiscation of property, but first let us take a peep into the studio. And putting the keys into his pocket, he walked into the library. I followed, whether it be my idea of preventing mischief or only to know the worst, I can hardly tell. My painting materials were laid together on the corner table, ready for tomorrow's use, and only covered with the cloth. He soon spied them out and, putting down the candle, deliberately proceeded to cast them into the fire. Palettes, paints, blers, pencils, brushes, varnish. I saw them all consume. The palette knives snapped in two, the old and turpentine sand hissing and drawing up the chimney. He then rang the bell. Benson, take those things away, said he, pointing to the easel, canvas and stretcher, until a housemaid she may kindled fire with them. Your mistress won't want them any more. Benson paused the guest and looked at me. Take them away, Benson, said I, and this master muttered on earth. And this is all, sir, said the astonished servant, referring to the half-finished picture. That and all replied Master, and the things were cleared away. Mr. Huntingdon then went upstairs. I did not attempt to follow him, but remained seated in the armchair, speechless, cheerless, and almost motionless, till he returned about half an hour after, and, walking up to me, held candle in my face and peered into my eyes with looks and laughter, to insulting to be born. With a sudden stroke on my hand, I dashed candle to the floor. Hello! muttered he, starting back. She is very devil for spite. Did ever an immortal see such eyes? They shine in the dark like a cat's. Oh, you're a sweet one. So, saying, he gathered up the candle and candlestick. The former being broken as well as extinguished, he rang for another. Benson, your mistress has broken the candle. Bring another. You exposed yourself finally. Observe I, as the man departed. I didn't say I'd broken it, did I? Returned he. He then threw my keys into my lap, saying, There, you'll find nothing on but your money and jewels, and a few little trifles I thought it advisable to take into my own possession, lest your mercantile spirit be tempted to turn them into gold. I've left you a few sovereigns in your purse, which I expect to last you through the month. At all events, when you want more, you'll be so good as to give me an account of how that's spent. I shall put you up on a small monthly allowance in future, for your own private expenses, and you'd even trouble yourself any more about my concerns. I shall look out for a steward, my dear. I won't expose you to the temptation. And, as for the household matters, Mrs. Grips must be very particular in keeping her accounts. We must go up on an entirely new plan. What great discovery have you made now, Mr. Huntingdon? Have I attempted to defraud you? Not in money matters, exactly, it seems, but it's best to keep out of the way of temptation. Here Benson entered the candles, and there followed a brief interval of silence. I sitting still in my chair, and he is standing with his back to the fire, silently trying to fit in my despair. And so, said he, at length, you thought to disgrace me, did you, by running away and turning artist, and supporting yourself by the labor of your hands for a sooth. And you sought to rob me of my son, too, and bring him up to be a dirty yanking tradesman, or a low, bangerly painter. Yes, to obviate his becoming as a gentleman at his father. It's well, you couldn't keep your own secret. Ha, ha! It's well, this woman must be babbling. If they haven't a friend to talk to, they must whisper their secrets to the fishes, or write them on sand or something. And it's well, too. I wasn't overful tonight. Now I think of it. Or I might have snoozed away and never dream of looking what my sweet lady was about. Or I might have lacked sense or the power to carry my point like a man, as I have done. Leaning him to be self-congratulations, I rose to secure my manuscript, for I now remembered it had been left upon the drawing-room table, and I determined, if possible, to save myself the humiliation of seeing it in his hands again. I could not bear the idea of his amusing himself over my secret thoughts and regulations. Though, to be sure, he would find little good of himself therein indeed, except in former part. And, oh, I would sooner burn it all that he should read what I had written when I was such a fool as to love him. And by the by, cried he, as I was leaving the room, it's better to tell that that old sneak of a nurse keep out of my way for a day or two. I pay her wages and send her packing tomorrow, but I know she'll do more mischief out of the house than in it. And as I departed, he went on cursing and abusing my faithful friend and servant with epithets I was not to defile this paper with repeating. I went to her as soon as I had put away my book, and told her how our project was defeated. She was as much distressed and horrified as I was. And more so than I was that night, for I was partially stunned by the blow and partially excited and supported against it by the bitterness of my wrath. But in the morning, when I walked without that cheering hope that had been my secret comfort and support so long, and all this day when I have wandered about restless and objectless, showing my husband, drinking even from my child, knowing that I am unfit to be his teacher or companion, hoping nothing for his future life and fervently wishing he had never been born, I felt full extent that my climatey, and I feel it now. I know that day after day such feelings will return upon me. I am a slave, a prisoner, but that is nothing. If it were myself alone I would not complain, but I am forbidden to rescue my son from ruin and what was once my only consolation is become the crowning source of my despair. If I have no faith in God I try to look to him and raise my heart to heaven, but it will cleave to the dust. I can only say he has edged me about that I cannot get out. He has made my chain heavy. He has filled me with bitterness. He has made me drunk and with warm wood. I forget to add, but though he caused grief yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies, for he does not afflict willingly nor grieved children of man. I ought to think of this, and if there be nothing but sorrow for me in this world, what is longest life of misery to a holy charity of peace? And for my little Arthur I see no friend but me. Who was it said? Is it not the will of your father which is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish? End of Chapter 40 Chapter 41 of the 10th of Walfel Hall This is a LibriBox recording. All LibriBox recordings are in public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriBox.org Recording by NSVC Mount Portugal The 10th of Walfel Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 41 March 20 Having not got rid of Mr. Huntington for a season, my spirits began to revive. He left me early in February, and the moment he was gone I breathed again and felt my vital energy return. Not with the hope of escape, yet seeking care to leave me no visible chance of that, but to the determination to make the best of existing circumstances. Heroes Arthur left me at last, and derousing from my despondent apathy, I exerted all my powers to eradicate the weeds I had in fostered in his effant mind, and so again the good seed they had rendered unproductive. Think heaven, it is not a barren or stony soil. If weeds spring fast there, so the better plans. His apprehensions are more quick, his heart more overflowing with affection than ever his fathers could have been, and it is no hopeless test to ban him to obedience, and win him to love and know his own true friend as long as there is no one to counteract my efforts. I had much trouble at first in breaking him of those evil habits his father had taught him to acquire, but already that difficulty is nearly vanquished now. Bad language seldom defiles his mouth, and I succeeded in giving him an absolute disgust for all intoxicating liqueurs, which I hope not even his father or his father's friends would be able to overcome. He was unordinately fond of them for so young a creature, and, remembering my unfortunate father as well as his, I dreaded the consequences of such a taste. But if I had stinted him in his usually quantity of wine or forbidden him to taste it altogether, that would only have increased his partiality for it, and made him regarded as a greater treat than ever. I therefore gave him quite as much as his father was accused to allow him, as much indeed as he desired to have. But into every class, I surruptually introduced a small quantity of tartarimetic, just enough to produce inevitable knowledge and depression without positive sickness. Finding such disagreeable consequences invariably to resolve from his indulgence, he soon grew wary of it, but the more he shrank from the daily treat, the more I pressed it up on him, till his reluctance was strengthened to preferred aberrants. When he was thoroughly disgusted with every kind of wine, I allowed him, at his own request, to try brandy and water, and then gin and water, for at little top rules familiar with them all, and I was determined that all should be equally hateful to him. These I have now effected, and since he declares that the taste, the smell, the sight of any one of them is sufficient to make him sick, I have given up teasing him about them, except no one then has objects of terror in his behavior. Arthur, if you're not a good boy, I shall give you a glass of wine. Or, now Arthur, if you say that again, you shall have some brandy and water. Eat as good as any other thread, and once or twice, when he was sick, I have obliged a poor child to swallow little wine and water without the tartarumatic by way of medicine. And this practice I had to continue for some time to come. Not that I think it of any real service in a physical sense, but because I am determined to enlist all the powers of association in my service. I wish as a version to be so deeply grounded in his nature that nothing in afterlife may be able to overcome it. Thus I flatter myself. I shall secure him from his own vice. And for the rest, if on his father's return I find reason to apprehend that my good lessons will be all destroyed. If Mr. Hunter then comments again the game of teaching the child to hate and despise his mother and emulate his father's wickedness, I will yet deliver my son from his hands. I have devised another scheme that might be resorted to in such a case. And if I could but obtain my brother's consent and assistance, I shall not doubt of its success. The old hall where he and I were born and where our mother died is not now inhabited, not yet quite sunk into decay as I believe. Now, if I could persuade him to have one or two rooms made available and to let them to me as a stranger, I might live there with my child under an assumed name and still support myself by my favorite art. It should lend me the money to begin with and I would pay him back and leave him to all the independence and strict seclusion for the house stands in a lonely place and neighborhood is cleanly inhabited sale of my pictures for me. I have arranged the old plan in my head and all I want is to persuade Frederick to be at the same mind as myself. He is coming to see me soon and then I will make the proposal to him. I will first enlighten him upon my circumstances sufficiently to excuse the project. Already, I believe, he knows much more of my situation than I have told him. I can tell this by the ever tender sadness privating his letters and by the fact that he is so seldom mentioned in my husband and generally vexing a kind of covert bitterness when he does refer to him as well as by the circumstances that he is never coming to see me when Mr. Hunter then is at home. But he has never openly expressed any separation of him or sympathy for me. He has never asked any questions or said anything to me by confidence. As he done so, I should probably have had but few questions from him. Perhaps he feels hurt at my reserve. He is a strange being. I wish he knew each other better. He used to spend a month outstandingly every year before I was married. But since our father's death I have only seen him once when he came for a few days while Mr. Hunter then was away. We shall stay many days this time and there shall be more kinder and cordiality between us than ever there was before since our early childhood. My heart cleansed to him more than ever and my soul is sick of solitude. April 16 He is come and gone. He will not stay above a fortnight. The time passes quickly but very, very happily and it has done me good. I must have a bad disposition for my misfortunes have sorted and been to me exceedingly. I was beginning sensibly to cherish very unamiable feelings against my fellow mortals, harder than specially. But it is a comfort to see there is at least one among them worth it to be trusted and esteemed and, at least, there are more though I have never known them unless I expect poor Lord Lowborough and he was bad enough in his day. But what would Frederick have been if he had lived in the world and mingled from his child with such men as these of my acquaintance? And what will Arthur be with all his natural sweetness of disposition if I had not saved him from that world and those companions? I mentioned my first Frederick and introduced a subject to my plan to rescue one evening after his arrival when I presented my little son to his uncle. He is like you, Frederick, said I, in some of his moods. I sometimes think he resembles you more than his father and I am glad of it. He flattered me, Ellen, replied he, stroking the child's stuffed wavy locks. No, you will think in accompaniment when I tell you I'd rather have him to resemble Benson than his father. He slightly elevated his eyebrows, but said nothing. Do you know what sort of man Mr. Huntingdon is? Said I, I think I have an idea. Have you so clear an idea that you can hear without surprise or disapproval that I meditated escaping with that child some secret asylum where we can live in peace and never see him again. Is it really so? If you have not, continued I. I'll tell you something more about him and I gave a sketch of his general conduct and a more particular account of his behaviour regarding his child and explained my apprehensions on the later's account and my determination to lever him from his father's influence. Frederick was exceedingly indignant against Mr. Huntingdon and very much grieved for me. But still he looked up on my project as wild and impractical. He deemed my fears for art or disproportion to the circumstances and opposed so many objections to my plan and advised so many milder methods for emulating my condition that I was obliged to enter into further details to convince him that my husband was utterly incorrigible and that nothing could persuade him to give up his son for whatever became of me, he being as fully determined to not leave him as I was not to leave his child and that in fact nothing would answer but this unless I fled the country as I had intended before. To abbreviate that he is less consented to have one wing of all-all put into a beatable condition as a place of refuge against a time of need. But hoped I would not take advantage of it unless circumstances would render it really necessary which I was ready enough to promise. For though, for my own sake, such a hermitage appears like paralyzed itself compared to my present situation yet for my friend's sakes for Millicent and Esther my sister's in heart and affection for the poor tenants of Crestel and above all for my aunt I will stay if I possibly can. July 29th Mrs. Hargrove and her daughter I come back from London Esther is full of her first season in town but she is still hard-walled and unengaged. Her mother sought out an excellent match for her and even brought the gentleman to lay his heart on the fortune of her feet but Esther had the audacity to refuse noble gifts. He was a man of good family and large possessions but not a girl maintained he was faithful as one who shall be nameless. But she indeed I had a hard time of it said she Mama was very greatly disappointed at the failure of her darling project and very, very angry at my obstinate resistance for her will and this shows still but I can help it and while her Jew is so seriously displeased at my perversity and absurdly pleased as he calls it that I fear he will never forgive me I do not think he could be so unkind as he has shown himself but Militant begged me not to yell and I am sure Mrs. Huntington if you had seen the man they wanted to palm up on me would have advised me not to check him too I should have done so whether I had seen him or not said I it is enough that you dislike him I knew you would say so though Mama affirmed you would be quite shocked at my thoughtful conduct you can't imagine how she lectured me I am obedient and ungrateful I am thwartening her wishes wronging my brother and making myself a burden on her hands I sometimes fear she will overcome me after all I have a strong will but so has she and when she says such bitter things it provokes me to such a past that I feel inclined to do as you bias me and then break my heart and say dare Mama it's all your fault pray don't said I obedience from such a motive would be positive wickedness the punishment it deserves stand firm and the Mama will soon relinquish this persecution and the gentleman himself will cease to pass to you with his addresses if he finds them steadily rejected oh no Mama will rarely all about her before she tires herself with her exertions and as for Mr. Oldfield she has given him to understand that I have refused this offer not from any dislike of his person but merely because I am giddy and cannot at present reconcile myself to the thoughts of marriage under any circumstances but by next season she has no doubt I shall have more sense and hope my girlish fancies will be worn away so she has brought me home to school me into a proper sense of my duty against the time comes round again indeed I believe she will not put herself to the expense of taking me up to London again unless I surrender she cannot afford to take me to town for pleasure or nonsense she says and it is not every rich gentleman that will consent to take me without a fortune for every exalted ideas I may have my own attractions well after I pity you but still I repeat stand firm you might as well sell yourself to slavery at once as marry a man it is like if your modern brother are not kind to you you may leave them but remember you are bound to your husband for life but I cannot leave them unless I get married and I cannot get married if nobody sees me I saw one or two gentlemen in London that I might have liked but they were younger sons and mom would not let me get to know them one specially who I believe rather liked me but she threw every possibly obstacle in the way of our better acquaintance wasn't it provoking I have no doubt you'd feel it so but it is possible that if you married him you might have more reason to regret it hereafter than if you married Mr. Oldfield when I tell you not to marry that love I have not advised you to marry for love alone there are many, many other things to be considered keep both heart and hand in your own possession choose a good reason to part with them and if such an occasion should never present itself comfort your mind with this reflection that though in single life your joys may not be very many your sorrows at least will not be more than you can bear marriage may chance your circumstances when you are married marriage may chance your circumstances for the better but in my private opinion it is far more likely to produce a contrary result so think similescent but allow me to say I think otherwise if I thought myself doomed to old maidenhood I should cease to value my life the thought of living on year after year at the grove a hangar on Upper Mama and Walter a mere cucumber of the ground now that I know in what light I would regard it is perfectly in terrible I'd rather run away with butler your circumstances are peculiar I allow but have patience love do nothing rashly remember you are not yet 19 and many years are yet to pass before anyone can set you down as an old maid you cannot tell what providence may have in store for you and meantime remember you have a right to the protection and support of your mother and brother however they may seem to grudge it you are so great Mrs. Huntington said after a pause when Milicent uttered same discouraging sentiments concerning marriage I asked if she was happy she said she was but I only have believed her and now I must put the same question to you it is a very important question left I from a young girl to a married woman so many years are senior and I shall not answer it pardon me dear madam said she laughingly throwing herself in my arms and kissing me with playful affection but I felt a tear on my neck as she dropped her head on my bosom and continued with an odd mixture of sadness and levity humility and audacity I know you're not so happy as I meant to be for you spend half your life alone on grass tail while Mr. Huntington goes about enjoying himself in his business I shall expect my husband to have no pleasures but what he shares with me and if his greatest pleasure of all is not enjoyment of my company why it will be the worst for him that's all if such are your expectations of matrimony Esther you must indeed be careful whom you marry or rather you must avoid this altogether End of Chapter 41 Chapter 42 of the Tenant of Wellfell Hall this is a Librebox recording all Librebox recordings are the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit Librebox.org Recording by NSVC Mount Portugal The Tenant of Wellfell Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 42 September 1st No Mr. Huntington yet Perhaps he will stay among his friends till Christmas and then next spring he will be off again If you continue this plan I shall be able to stay at Crestel well enough That is I shall be able to stay and that is enough Even an occasional baby of friends that should in season may be born if Arthur gets so firmly attached to me so I'll establish in good sense and principles before they come that I shall be able by reason and affection to keep him pure from their contaminations vain hope I fear but still till such a time of trial comes I will forbear to think of my quite a zealom in beloved old hall Mr. and Mrs. Houtersley have been seeing her to grow before at night and as Mrs. Hargrave is still absent and the weather was remarkably fine I never passed the day without seeing my two friends Melissa and Esther either there or here On one occasion we were actually driving them over to Crestel in the Batheon with little Ellen and Ralph and we were all enjoying ourselves in the garden I had a few minutes conversation with that gentleman while the ladies were amusing themselves with children Do you want to hear anything of your husband Mrs. Santinden said he No, unless you can tell me when to expect him home I can't I said he with a broad grin No Well, I think you're better without him sure enough for my part I'm downright wary of him I told him I'd leave him if he didn't mend his manners and he wouldn't so I left him You see, I'm a better man than you think me and once more I have serious thoughts of washing my hands of him entirely and all set of them from this day forth with all this asian sobriety as a Christian and father of a family should do What do you think of that? It is a resolution you were informed long ago Well, I'm not 30 yet It isn't too late, is it? No It is never too late to reform as long as you have such desire and strength to execute your purpose Well, to tell you the truth I've thought of it often and often before that he's such a devilish good company he's hunting them, after all You can't imagine what a jovial good fellow he is when he's not fairly drunk only that supreme or half sees over We all have a bit of a liking for him at the bottom of our hearts though we can't respect him But should you wish yourself to be like him? No, I'd rather be like myself rather than be like him I'd rather be like myself bad as I am You can't continue as bad as you are without getting worse and more brutalized every day and therefore more like him I could not help smiling at comical half angry half confounded look he put on at this rather unusual mode of address Never mind my plain speaking said I It is from the best of motives But tell me, should you wish your sons to be like Mr. Huntington or even like yourself? Hang it, no Should you wish your daughter to despise you or at least feel no vestige of respect for you and no affection but what is mingled with bitterest regret Oh no, I couldn't stand that And finally, should you wish your wife to be ready to sink into the earth when she hears you mentioned or should load the very sound of your voice and shudder at her approach She never will She lacks me all the same whatever I do Impossible, Mr. Ottersley You mistake her quite submission for affection Far and fury Now, don't force into a tempest at that I don't mean to say she does not love you She does, I know a great deal better than you deserve But I am quite sure that if you behave better she will love you more and if you behave worse she will love you less and less till all is lost in fear, aversion and bitterness of soul if not in secret hatred and contempt But dropping subject of affection should you wish to be tyrant of her life to take away all the sunshine from her existence and make her thoroughly miserable Of course not and I don't and I'm not going to You have done more chores it than you suppose Pooh, poo She's not the susceptible anxious worried creature you imagine She's a little meek visible, affectionate body apt to be rather sulky at times but quiet and cool in the main and ready to take things as they come Think of what you was five years ago when you married her and what she is now I know she was a little plump lassie then with a pretty pink and white face Now she's a poor little bit of a creature feeding and melting away like a snow-wraith But hang it that's not my fault Why is the cause of it then? Not years, for she's only five and twenty It's her own delicate health and confounded madam What did you make of me? And the children, to be sure that were a hurt death between them No, Mr. Artisly The children give her more pleasure than pain They are fine, well dispossessed in children I know they are, bless them Then why lay the blame on them I'll tell you what it is It's silent fretting and constant anxiety on your account Mingle, I suspect with something of bodily fear on her own When you behave well she can only rejoice with trembling She has no security, no confidence in the adjustment of principles But is continually dreading the close of such short-lived velocity When you behave ill her causes of terror and misery are more than anyone can tell by their self In patients and jurists of evil she forgets it is our duty to admonish our neighbors of their transgressions Since you will mistake her silence for indifference, come with me and I'll show you one or two of her letters No breach of confidence, I hope since you are her other half He followed me into the library I sought out and put into his hands two of Millicent's letters One dated from London and written during one of his wildest seasons of reckless dissipation The other in the country during a lucid interval The former was full of trouble and anguish not accusing him, but deeply regretting his connection with his profligate companions, abusing Mr. Grimsby and others inciting bitter things against Mr. Huntingdon and most ingeniously throwing the blame of her husband's misconduct on the other man's shoulders The latter was full of hope and joy yet with a trembling consciousness that this happiness would not last praising his goodness to the skies but with an evident though but half expressed wish that it were based on a sure foundation than natural impulses of the heart and half prophetic dread at the fall of that house who founded on sand which fall had shortly after taking place as actuously must have been conscious what he read Almost at the commencement of the first letter I had unexpected pleasure of seeing him blush but he immediately turned his back to me and finished the perusal at window At second I saw him once or twice raise his hand and hurriedly pass it across his face Could it be to dash away at year? When he had done there was an interval spent in clearing his throat and staring out of the window and then after whistling a few bars of a favorite air he turned around gave me back layers and softly shook me by the hand I've been a cursed rascal God knows said he as he gave it a earthy squeeze but you see if I don't make amends for it then me if I don't Don't curse yourself Mister Archersley if God had heard half your invocations of that kind you'd have been in hell long before now and you cannot make amends for the past by doing your duty for the future inasmuch as your duty is only what you owe to your maker and you cannot do more than fulfill it another must make amends for your past delinquences if you intend to reform invoke God's blessing His mercy in this aid not is cursed God help me then for I'm sure I need it where's Millicent she's there just coming in with her sister he stepped out at the glass door and went to meet them I followed at a little distance somewhat to his wife's astonishment he lifted her off from the ground and saluted her with a hearty kiss and a strong embrace then plaiting his two hands on her shoulders he gave her I suppose a sketch of the great things he meant to do for she suddenly threw her arms around him and brought him to tears exclaiming do do Ralph we shall be so happy how very very good you are nay not I said he turning around and pushing it towards me I thank her it's her doing Millicent flew to thank me overwhelming its gratitude I disclaimed all title to it telling her her husband was predisposed for amendment before I added my meat of exhortation and encouragement and that I had only done what she might and ought to have done herself who know cried she I couldn't have influenced him I'm sure by anything that I could have said I should only have bothered him with my clumsy efforts at persuasion if I had made the attempt you never tried me Millicent really said he shortly after they took their leave they are now gone home on a visit to Arthur's leaf father after that they will repair to their country home I hope these good resolutions will not fall through and for Millicent will not be again disappointed her last letter was full of present bliss and pleading dissipations for the future but no particular temptation to the test henceforth however she would doubtless be somewhat less timid and reserved and he more kind and thoughtful surely then her hopes are not unfounded and I have one bright spot at least where one to rest my thoughts End of Chapter 42 Chapter 43 of the Tenant of Wellfell All this is a LibriBox recording all the LibriBox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriBox.org recording by Anasphia Simón de Portugal The Tenant of Wellfell Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 43 October 10 Mr. Huntington returned about three weeks ago his appearance is the minor end conversation and my feelings with regard to him I shall not troll myself to describe the day after his arrival however he surprised me by the announcement of an intention to procure a governess for little Arthur I told him it was quite unnecessary not to say ridiculous at the present season I thought I was fully competent to ask of teaching him myself for some years to come at least the child's education was the only pleasure and business of my life and since he had deprived me of every other occupation he might surely leave me that he said I was not fit to teach children or to be with them I had already reduced the boy to little better than an automaton I had broken his fine spirit with my rigid severity and I should freeze all the sunshine out of his heart and make him as gloomy and ascetic as myself if I had the handling of him much longer and poor Rachel too came in for her share of abuse as usual he cannot endure Rachel because he knows she has a proper appreciation of him I calmly defended our several qualifications as nurse and governess and still resisted the proposed addition to our family but he cut me short by saying it was no use bothering about matter for he had engaged the governess already and she was coming next week so that all I had to do was to get things ready for a reception this was a rather starting piece of intelligence I ventured to inquire her name and address by whom she had been recommended or how he had been led to make choice of her she is a very estimable, pious young person said he you needn't be afraid her name is Myers I believe and she was recommended me by a respectable old Dowager a lady of high repute in the religious world I have not seen her myself and therefore cannot give you a particular account of her person and conversation and so forth but, if all ladies eulogies are correct you'll find her to possess all desirable qualifications for her position an inordinate love of children among the rest all this was gravely and quietly spoken nothing demon in his half averted eye that boasted no good I imagine however, I thought of my exalement child and made further objections when Miss Myers arrives I was not prepared to give her a very cordial reception her appearance was not particularly calculated to produce a fairly impression at first sight nor did her manners and subsequent conduct in any degree remove the prejudice I had already conceived against her her attainments were limited her inklet no ways above mediocrity she had a fine voice and could sing like a nightingale and accompany herself sufficiently well on the piano but these were her only accomplishments there was a look of gill and subtletly in her face a sound of it in her voice she seemed afraid of me and would start if I suddenly approached her in her behavior she was respectful and complacent even to servility she tempted to flair and fun up on me at first but I didn't check that her fondness for little pupil was overstrain and was obliged to remonstrate with her unsoljet of overindulgence and interditious praise but you could not gain its heart her pity consisted in an occasional heaving of sights and uplifting of eyes to the ceiling and the uterine of a few kind phrases she told me she was a clergyman's daughter and had been left an orphan from her childhood but had had the good fortune to obtain a situation in the very purest family and then she spoke so gratefully of the kindness she had experienced that I reproached myself for my uncharted with thoughts and unfriendly conduct and relented for a time but not for long my causes of dislike were irrational my suspicions too well founded for that and I knew it was my duty to watch and scrutinize till those suspicions were either satisfactorily removed or confirmed I asked name and residence of the kind and pious family she mentioned the common name and the unknown and distant place of abode but told me they were now on the continent and their present address was unknown to her I never saw her speak much to Mr. Huntington but he would frequently look into the school room to see how little Arthur got on with his new companion when I was not there in the evening she sat with us in the drawing room and would sing and play to amuse or us, as she pretended and was very attentive to his wants and watchful to anticipate him though she only talked to me indeed he would sell them in a condition to be talked to had she been other than she was I should have felt her presence a great relief to come between us except indeed that I should have been thoroughly ashamed for any decent person to see him as he often was I did not mention my suspicions to Rachel but she, having sojourned for half a century in this land obscene and sorrow has learned to be suspicious herself she told me from the first she was down of that new governess and I soon found she watched her quite as narrowly as I did and I was glad of it for I longed to know the truth the atmosphere of grass tell seemed to stifle me and I could only live by thinking of Wildfell Hall at last one morning she entered my chamber with such intelligence that my resolution was taken before she assists to speak while she dressed me I explained her my intentions and what assistance I should require from her and holder which of my things she was to pack up and what she was to leave behind for herself had no other means of recompensating her for this sudden dismissal after her long and faithful service a circumstance I almost deeply regretted but could not avoid and what would you do Rachel said I would you go home or seek another place I have no home ma'am but with you she replied and if I leave you I'll ever go into the end as long as I live but I can't afford to leave like a lady now returned I I must be my own maid and my child's nurse what significance replied she in some excitement you want somebody to clean and wash and cook won't you I can do all that I never mind wages I have my bits of savings yet and if you couldn't take me I should have to find my own born and lotting out of them somewhere or else work among strangers and it's what I'm not used to so you can please yourself ma'am her voice quavered as it spoke and it used to in her eyes I should like it above all things Rachel and I'd give you such wages as I could afford such as I should give to any servant of all work I might employ but don't you see I should be dragging you down with me when you have done nothing to deserve it oh fiddle ejaculated she and besides my future way of living will be so while the difference to the past so different to all you have been accustomed to do you think ma'am I can't bear what my mrs. can't surely I'm not so proud and so dainty as that comes to and my little master too God bless him but I'm young Rachel I shan't mind it and Arthur is young too it will be nothing to him nor me either I'm not so old but but I can stand hard fair and hard work if it's only to help and comfort them as I've loved like my own parents all I'm too old to be the thoughts who live in in trouble and danger and going amongst strangers myself then you shan't Rachel cried I embracing my faithful friend we'll all go together and you shall see I have no life so too bless you honey said she affectionately returning my embrace only let us get should of this wicked house and we'll do right enough you'll see so think I was my answer and so that point was settled by that morning's post I dispatched a few hasty lines to Frederick besieging him to prepare my asylum for my immediate perception for I should probably come to claim it within a day after the precip of that note and tell him in few words the cause of my sudden resolution I then wrote three letters of a dear the first to Esther Igrave in which I told her that I found it impossible to stay any longer at Grassdale or to leave my son under his father's protection and as it was of the last importance that our future both should be unknown to him and his acquaintance I should disclose it to no one further through the medium of whom I hoped still to correspond with my friends I then gave her his address exerted her to write frequently reiterated some of my former admonitions regarding her own concerns and made her a fond farewell the second was to Millicent much to the same effect but a little more confidential as we fitted our longer intimacy and her greater experience and better acquaintance with my circumstances the third was to my end a much more difficult and painful undertaking and therefore I left it to the last but I must give her some explanation of that extraordinary step I have taken and that quickly for she and my uncle would no doubt hear of it within a day or two after my disappearance and it was probable that Mr. Huntingdon would quickly apply to them to know what was become of me at last however I told her I was sensible of my error I did not complain of its punishment and I was sorry to trouble my friends with its consequences but in duty to my son I must submit no longer it was absolutely necessary that he should be delivered from his father's corrupting influence I should not disclose my place of refuge even to her in order that she and my uncle might be able with truth to deny all knowledge concerning it but any communication to address to me under cover to my brother will be certain to reach me I hoped she and my uncle would pardon the step I had taken for if they knew all I was sure they would not blame me and I trust that they would not blame themselves on my account for if I could only reach my retreat in safety and keep it unmodested I should be very happy but for the thoughts of them and should be quite contented to spend my life in obscurity devoting myself to the training up of my child and teaching him to avoid the errors of both his parents these things were done yesterday I have given two old days with preparation for our departure that Frederick may have more time to prepare the rooms and Rachel to back up the things for the later task must be done with utmost caution and secrecy and there is no one but me to assist her I can help to get the articles together but I have not understand the art of stowing them into the boxes so as to take up the smallest possible space and there are her own things to do as well as mine and Arthur's I can ill afford to leave anything behind since I have no money except a few guineas in my purse and besides as Rachel observed whatever I left would most likely become the property of Miss Myers and I should not relish that but what trouble I have had throughout these two days struggling to appear calm and collected to meet him and her as usual was obliged to meet him and forcing myself to leave my little Arthur in her hands for hours together but I trust these trials are over now I have laid him in my bed for better security and never more I trust shall its innocent lips be defiled by their contaminating kisses or his young ears polluted by their words but shall we escape in safety oh that morning we were calm and we were on our way at least this evening when I had given Rachel all the assistance I could and had nothing left me but to wait and wish and tremble I became so greatly agitated that I knew not what to do I went down to dinner but I could not force myself to eat Mr. Huntingdon remarked the circumstance what to do with you now said he the removal of the second course gave him time to look about him I'm not well I replied I think I must lie down a little you won't miss me much not least if you leave your chair it will do just as well very trifle he muttered as I left the room for I can fancy somebody else feels it somebody else might feel it tomorrow I thought but did not say there I've seen the last of you I hope I muttered as I closed the door upon him Rachel urged me to seek repose at once to recruit my strengths for tomorrow's journey as we must be gone before the dawn but in my present state of nervous excitement that was entirely out of the question it was equally out of the question to sit or wonder about my room counting the hours and minutes between me and the appointed time of action straining my ears and trembling at every sound least someone should discover and betray us after all I shook up a book and tried to read my eyes wandered over the pages but it was impossible to bring my thoughts to their contents why not have a curse to the old expedient and have his last event my chronicle I opened its pages once more and wrote the above account with difficulty at first but gradually my mind became more calm and steady thus several hours have passed away the time is drawing near and now my eyes feel heavy and my frame exhausted I will commend my cause to God and then lie down and gain an hour or two of sleep and then little Arthur sleeps soundly all the house is still there can be no one watching the boxes were all coated by Benson and quietly conveyed down the back stairs after dusk and sent away in a cart to the M coach office the name upon the cart was Mrs. Graham which appellation I mean was stopped my mother's maiden name was Graham and therefore I fancy I have some claim to it and prefer it to any other except my own which I dare not resume and of Chapter 43 Chapter 44 of the Tenant of Wildfell Hall this is a Libby Vox recording all Libby Vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer visit Libby Vox.org recording by Winner Hathaway the Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 44 October 24th Thank Heaven I'm free and safe at last early we rose swiftly and quietly dressed slowly and stealthily descended to the hall Benson stood ready with the light to open the door and fasten it after us we were obliged to let one man into our secret on account of the boxes and sea all the servants were but too well acquainted with their master's conduct and neither Benson or John would have been willing to serve me but as the former was more staid and elderly and a crony of Rachel's besides I of course directed her to make choice of him as a resistant and confident on the occasion as far as necessity demanded I only hope he may not be brought into trouble thereby and only wish I could reward him for the perilous service he was so ready to undertake I slipped two guiness into his hand by way of remembrance as he stood in the doorway holding the candle to light our departure with a tear in his honest grey eye and a host of good wishes depicted on his solemn countenance alas I could offer no more I had barely sufficient remaining for the probable expenses of the journey what trembling joy it was when the little wicket closed behind us as we issued from the park then for one moment I paused to inhale one draught of that cool bracing air and venture one look back upon the house all was dark and still no light glimmers in the windows no wreath through smoke obscured the stars that sparkled above it in the frosty sky as I bade farewell forever to that place the scene of so much guilt and misery I felt glad that I had not left it before for now there was no doubt about the propriety of such a step no shadow of remorse for him I left behind there was nothing to disturb my joy but the fear of detection and every step removed us further from the chance of that we had left Grassdale many miles behind us before the round red sun rose to welcome our deliverance and if any inhabitant of his vicinity had chance to see us then as we bowled along on the top of the coach I scarcely think they would have suspected our identity as I intend to be taken for a widow I thought it advisable to enter but I knew about in mourning I was therefore I tired in a plain black silk dress and mantle a black veil which I kept carefully over my face for the first 20 or 30 miles of the journey and a black silk bonnet which I had been constrained to borrow of Rachel for want of such an article myself it was not in the newest fashion of course but none the worse for that under the present circumstances Arthur was collared in his plainest clothes and wrapped in a coarse woolen shawl and Rachel was muffled in a grey cloak and hood that had seen better days and gave her more the appearance of an ordinary though decent old woman than that of a latest maid oh what delight it was to be thus seated aloft rumbling along the broad sun-shiny road with a fresh morning breeze in my face surrounded by an unknown country all smiling cheerfully gloriously smiling is the yellow luster of those early beams with my darling child in my arms almost as happy as myself and my faithful friend beside me a prison and despair behind me receding further further back at every clatter of the horses feet and liberty and hope before I could hardly refrain from praising God aloud for my deliverance or astonishing my fellow passengers by some surprising upburst of hilarity but the journey was a very long one and you were all weary enough before the close of it it was far into the night when you reached the town of El and still we were seven miles from our journey's end and there was no more coaching nor any conveyance to be had except a common card and that with the greatest difficulty for half the town was in bed and at every ride we had of it that last stage of the journey cold and weary as we were sitting in our boxes with nothing to cling to nothing to lean against slowly dragged and cruelly shaken over the rough hilly roads but Arthur was asleep in Rachel's lap and between us we managed pretty well to shield him from the cold night air at last we began to ascend a terribly steep and stony lane which in spite of the darkness Rachel said she remembered well she had often walked there with me in her arms and little thought to come again so many years after under such circumstances as the present Arthur being now awakened by the jolting and the stoppages we all got out and walked we had not far to go but what if Frederick should not have received my letter or if he should not have had time to prepare the rooms for our reception and we should find them all dark damp and comfortless destitute of food fire and furniture after all our toil at length the green dark pile appeared before us the lane conducted us round by the back way we entered the desolate court and in breathless anxiety surveyed a ruinous mess was it all blackness and desolation no one faint red glimmer cheered us from a window where the lattice was in good repair the door was fastened but after due knocking and waiting and some pearling with a voice from an upper window we were admitted by an old woman who had been commissioned to air and keep the house till our arrival into a tolerably snug little apartment formerly the scullery of the mansion which Frederick had now fitted up as a kitchen here she procured as a light roused the fire to a cheerful blaze and soon prepared a simple repass for our refreshment while we disencumbered ourselves of our travelling gear and took a hasty survey of our new abode besides the kitchen there were two bedrooms a good sized parlor and another smaller one which I destined for my studio all well aired and seemingly in good repair but only partly furnished with a few old articles chiefly of ponderous black oak the veritable ones that had been there before in which had been kept a centiquarian relics in my brother's present residence and now in all haste transported back again the old woman brought my supper and Arthur's into the parlor and told me with all due formality that the master desired his compliments to Mrs. Graham he prepared the rooms as well as he could upon so short a notice but he would do himself the pleasure of calling upon her tomorrow to receive her further commands I was glad to ascend the sterling looking stone staircase and lie down in the gloomy old fashion bed beside my little Arthur he was asleep in a minute but weary as I was my excited feelings and restless cogitations kept me awake till dawn to struggle with the darkness but sleep was sweet and refreshing when it came and the waking was delightful beyond expression it was little Arthur that roused me with his gentle kisses he was here then safely clasped in my arms and many leagues away from his unworthy father broad daylight illumined the apartment for the sun was high in the heaven though obscured by rolling masses the scene indeed was not remarkably cheerful in itself either within or without the large bare room with its grim old furniture the narrow lattice windows revealing the dull grey sky above and the desolate wilderness below with the dark stone walls and iron gate the rank growth of grass and weeds and the hardy evergreens of bitter natural forms alone remained to tell that there had been ones and the bleak and barren fields beyond might have struck me as gloomy enough at another time but now each separate object seemed to echo back my own accelerating sense of hope and freedom indefinite dreams of the far past and bright anticipations of the future seemed to quit me at every turn I should be choice of more security to be sure had the broad sea rolled between my present and former homes but surely in this lonely spot I might remain unknown and then I had my brother here to cheer my solitude with his occasional visits he came that morning and I have had several interviews with him since but he is obliged to be very cautious when and how he comes not even his servants or his best friends must know of his visits to Wildfell except on such occasions as the Lord might be expected to call upon a stranger tenant and suspicion should be excited against me whether of the truths or of some slanderous falsehood I have now been here nearly a fortnight and but for one disturbing care the haunting dread of discovery I am comfortably settled in my new home Frederick has supplied me with all requisite furniture and painting materials Rachel has sold most of my clothes for me in a distant town and procured me a wardrobe more suitable to my present position I have a secondhand piano and a tolerably well-stocked bookcase in my parlor and my other room has assumed quite a professional business-like appearance already I am working hard to repay my brother for all his expenses of my account not that there is the slightest necessity for anything of the kind but it pleases me to do so I shall have so much more pleasure in my labour my earnings my frugal fare and household economy when I know that I am paying my way honestly and that what little I possess is legitimately all my own and that no one suffers from my folly in a pecuniary way at least I shall make him take the last penny I owe him if I can possibly affect it without offending him too deeply I have a few pictures already done for I told Rachel to pack up all I had and she executed her commission but too well for among the rest she put up a portrait of Mr. Huntingdon that I had painted in the first year of my marriage it struck me with dismay at the moment when I took it from the box and beheld those eyes fixed upon me in their mocking mirth a civic salting still in his power to control my fate to escape how wildly different had been my feelings in painting that portrait to what they are now in looking upon it how I had studied and told to produce something as I thought worthy of the original what mingled pleasure and dissatisfaction I had had in the result of my labours pleasure for the likeness I had caught dissatisfaction because I had not made it handsome enough now I see no beauty in it nothing pleasing in any part of its expression and yet it is far handsomer and far more agreeable far less repulsive I should rather say than he is now for these six years have wrought almost as a great change upon himself as on my feelings regarding him the frame however is handsome enough it was served for another painting the picture itself I have not destroyed as I had first intended I have put it aside not I think from any lurking tenderness for the memory of past affection nor yet to remind me of my former folly but chiefly that I might compare my son's features and countenance with his as he grows up and thus be enabled to judge how much or how little he resembles his father if I might be allowed to keep him with me still and never to behold that father's face again a blessing I'd hardly dare reckon upon it seems Mr. Huntingdon is making every exertion to discover the place of my retreat he has been in person distantly seeking redress for his grievances expecting to hear his victims if not to find them there and has told so many lies and with such unblushing coolness that my uncle more than half believes him and strongly advocates my going back to him and being friends again but my aunt knows better she is too cool and cautious and too well acquainted with both my husband's character and my own to be imposed upon by any specious falsehoods the former could invent but he does not want me back he wants my child and gives my friends to understand that if I prefer living apart from him he will indulge to him and let me do so un molested and even settle a reasonable allowance on me provided I will immediately deliver up his son but heaven help me I am not going to sell my child for gold so it were to save both him and me from starving it would be better that he should die with me than that he should live with his father Frederick showed me a letter he had received from that gentleman full of cool impudence such as would astonish anyone who did not know him but such as I am convinced none would know better how to answer than my brother he gave me no account of his reply except to tell me that he had not acknowledged his acquaintance with my place of refuge but rather left it to be inferred that it was quite unknown to him by saying it was useless to apply to him or any other of my relations for information on the subject as it appeared I had been driven to such extremity that I had concealed my retreat even from my best friends but that if he had known it or should at any time be made aware of it most certainly Mr. Huntington would be the last person to whom he should communicate the intelligence and that he need not trouble himself to bargain for the child for he, Frederick, fancied he knew enough of his sister to enable him to declare that whatever she might be or however situated no consideration would induce her to deliver him up thirtieth alas, my kind neighbors would not let me alone by some means they have ferreted me out and I have had to sustain visits from three different families all more or less bent upon discovering who and what I am whence I came and why I have chosen such a home as this their society is unnecessary to me to say the least and their curiosity and always an alarms me if I gratify it it may lead to the ruin of my son if I am too mysterious it will only excite their suspicions invite conjecture and roast them to greater exertions and perhaps be the means of spreading my fame from parish to parish to it reach the ears of someone I shall be expected to return their calls but if upon inquiry I find that any of them live too far away for Arthur to accompany me they must expect in vain for a while for I cannot bear to leave him unless it be to go to church and I have not attempted that yet for it may be foolish weakness but I am under such constant dread of his being snatched away that I am never eased and I have never been able to get away that I am never easy when he is not by my side and I fear this nervous terrors would so entirely disturb my devotions that I should obtain no benefit from the attendance I mean however to make the experiment next Sunday and oblige myself to leave him in charge of Rachel for a few hours it will be a hard task but surely no imprudence and the vicar has been to scold me for my neglect of the ordinances of religion I had no sufficient excuse to offer and I promised if all were well he should see me in my pew next Sunday for I do not wish to be set down as an infidel and besides I know I should derive great comfort and benefit from an occasional attendance at public worship if I could only have faith and fortitude to compose my thoughts and conformity with a solemn occasion and forbid them to be forever dwelling on my absent child and on a dreadful possibility of finding him gone on a return and surely God in his mercy will preserve me from so severe a trial for my child's own sake if not for mine he will not suffer him to be torn away November 3rd I have made some further acquaintance with my neighbors the fine gentleman in bow of the parish and its vicinity in his own estimation at least is a young here attended the rest was torn away how cruel just when she was going to mention me for I could not doubt it was your humble servant she was about to mention though not very favourably of course I could tell that as well by those few words as by the recollection of her whole aspect and demeanor towards me the commencement of our acquaintance well I could readily forgive her prejudice against me and her hard thoughts of our sex in general when I saw to what brilliant specimens her experience had been limited respecting me however she had long since seen her error and perhaps fallen into another in the opposite extreme for if at first her opinion of me had been lower than I deserved I was convinced now that my desserts were lower than her opinion and if the former part of this continuation had been torn away to avoid wanting my feelings perhaps a latter portion have been removed for fear of ministering too much to my self-conceit at any rate I would have given much to have seen it all to have witnessed a gradual change and watched the progress of her esteem and friendship for me and whatever warm feelings she might have to have seen how much of love there was in her regard and how it had grown upon her in spite of her virtuous resolutions and her strenuous exertions too but no I had no right to see it all this was too sacred for any eyes but her own and she had done well to keep it for me End of Chapter 44 Recording by Winna Hathaway in Fayetteville, North Carolina