 Preface of the Tenant of Wildfell Hall. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Gesine. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte. Author's preface to the second edition. While I acknowledge the success of the present work to have been greater than I anticipated, and the praises it has elicited from a few kind critics to have been greater than it deserved, I must also admit that from some other quarters it has been censured with an asperity, which I was as little prepared to expect and which my judgment as well as my feelings assures me is more bitter than just. It is scarcely the province of an author to refute the arguments of his senses and vindicate his own productions, but I may be allowed to make here a few observations with which I would have prefaced the first edition had I foreseen the necessity of such precautions against the misapprehensions of those who would read it with a prejudiced mind or be content to judge it by a hasty glance. My object in writing the following pages was not simply to amuse the reader. Neither was it to gratify my own taste, nor yet to ingratiate myself with the press and the public. I wished to tell the truth. For truth always conveys its own moral to those who are able to receive it. But as the priceless treasure too frequently hides at the bottom of a well, it needs some courage to dive for it, especially as he that does so will be likely to incur more scorn and obliquy for the mud and water into which he has ventured to plunge, than thanks for the jewel he procures. As in like manner, she who undertakes the cleansing of a careless bachelor's apartment will be liable to more abuse for the dust she raises than commendation for the clearance she affects. Let it not be imagined, however, that I consider myself competent to reform the errors and abuses of society, but only that I would feign contribute my humble quota towards so good an aim. And if I can gain the public ear at all, I would rather whisper a few wholesome truths therein than much soft nonsense. As the story of Agnes Grey was accused of extravagant overcolouring in those very parts that were carefully copied from the life with the most scrupulous avoidance of all exaggeration, so in the present work I find myself censured for depicting Con Amore with a morbid love of the course if not of the brutal. Those scenes which, I will venture to say, have not been more painful for the most fastidious of my critics to read than they were for me to describe. I may have gone too far, in which case I shall be careful not to trouble myself or my readers in the same way again, but when we have to do with vice and vicious characters, I maintain it is better to depict them as they really are than as they would wish to appear. To represent a bad thing in its least offensive light is doubtless the most agreeable course for a writer of fiction to pursue, but is it the most honest or the safest? Is it better to reveal the snares and pitfalls of life to the young and saltless traveller or to cover them with branches and flowers? O reader, if there were less of this delicate concealment of facts, this whispering peace-peace, when there is no peace, there would be less of sin and misery to the young of both sexes who are left to wring their bitter knowledge from experience. I would not be understood to suppose that the proceedings of the unhappy scapegrace with his few profligate companions I have here introduced are a specimen of the common practices of society. The case is an extreme one, as I trusted none would fail to perceive, but I know that such characters do exist, and if I have warned one rash use from following in their steps or prevented one saltless girl from falling into the very natural era of my heroine, the book has not been written in vain. But at the same time, if any honest reader shall have derived more pain than pleasure from its perusal and have closed the last volume with a disagreeable impression on his mind, I humbly crave his pardon, for such was far from my intention, and I will endeavour to do better another time, for I love to give innocent pleasure. Yet, be it understood, I shall not limit my ambition to this, or even to producing a perfect work of art. Time and talents so spent, I should consider wasted and misapplied. Such humble talents as God has given me, will endeavour to put to their greatest use. If I am able to amuse, I will try to benefit too, and when I feel at my duty to speak an unpalatable truth, with the help of God I will speak it. They would be to the prejudice of my name, and to the detriment of my reader's immediate pleasure, as well as my own. One word more, and I have done. Respecting the author's identity, I would have it to be distinctly understood that the written bell is neither curer nor ellous bell, and therefore let not his faults be attributed to them. As to whether the name be real or fictitious, it cannot greatly signify to those who know him only by his works. As little, I should think, can it matter whether the writer so designated is a man or a woman, as one or two of my critics profess to have discovered. I take the imputation in good part, as a compliment to the just delineation of my female characters, and though I am bound to attribute much of the severity of my senses to this suspicion, I make no effort to refute it, because in my own mind I am satisfied that if a book is a good one, it is so, whatever the sex of the author may be. All novels are, or should be, written for both men and women to read, and I am at a loss to conceive how a man should permit himself to write anything that would be really disgraceful to a woman, or why a woman should be censured for writing anything that would be proper and becoming for a man. July 22, 1848 End of author's preface The tenant of Alvald Hall by Iain Bronte, Chapter 1 You must go back with me to the autumn of 1827. My father, as you know, was a sort of gentleman farmer in Chire, and I, by his expressed desire, succeeded him in the same quiet occupation, not very willingly, for ambition urged me to hire aims, and self-conceit assured me that, in disregarding its voice, I was bearing my talent in the earth and hiding my light under a bushel. My mother had done her utmost to persuade me that I was capable of a great achievement. But my father, or thought ambition was cherished through to ruin and change but another word for destruction, would listen to no scheme for bettering either my own condition or that of my fellow mortals. He assured me it was all rubbish and exuded me, with his dying breath, to continue in the good old way, to follow his steps, and those of his father before him, and let my highest ambition be to walk honestly through the world, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left, and to transmit paternal acres to my children in, at least, as flourishing a condition as he left them to me. Well, an honest and industrious farmer is one of the most useful members of society, and if I devote my talents to the cultivation of my farm and the improvement of agriculture in general, I shall thereby benefit not only my own immediate connections and dependence, but, in some degree, mankind at large. Hence I shall not have lived in vain. With such reflections as this, I was endeavouring to console myself, as I plodded home from the fields, one cold, damp, cloudy evening towards the close of October. But the claim of a bright red fire through the parlor window had more effect in cheering my spirits and rebuking my thankless ripenings than all the sage reflections and good resolutions I had forced my mind to frame. For I was then young, remember, only four and twenty, and that not acquired half the rule over my own spirit that I now possess, drifting as that may be. However, that heaven of bliss must not be entered till I have exchanged my merry boots for a clean pair of shoes, and my rough surthouts for a respectable coat, and made myself generally presentable before this in society. For my mother, with all her kindness, was vastly particular on certain points. In ascending to my room, I was met up on stairs by a smart, pretty girl of nineteen, with a tidy, dumpy figure, a round face, bright, blooming cheeks, glossy, clustering curls, and little merry-brown eyes. I need not tell you this was my sister Rose. She is, I know, a calmly matron still and doubtless, no less lovely in your eyes, than on the happy day you first beheld her. Nothing told me then that she, a few years hence, would be the wife of one entirely unknown to me as yet, but destined hereafter to become a closer friend than even herself, more intimate than that unmanorly lad of seventeen, by whom I was collared in the passage on coming down, and well night jerked off my equilibrium, and who, in correction for his imprudence, received a resounding whack of wood scones, which, however, sustained no serious injury from the inflection. As, besides being more than commonly thick, it was protected by a redundant shock of short, reddish curls that my mother called Auburn. On entering the parlor, we found that her unred lady sited in her harmed chair at fireside, working away at her knitting, according to her usual custom, when she had nothing else to do. She had swept the earth, and made the bright blazing fire for our reception. The servant had just brought in the tea tray, and Rose was producing sugar-basin and tea caddy from the cupboard in the black outside board that shone like polished ebony in the cheerful parlor twilight. Well, here they both are, cried my mother, looking round upon us without retarding the motion of her nimble fingers and glittering needles. Now shut the door and come to the fire while Rose gets tea ready. I'm sure he must be starved. Tell me what you've been about all day. I'd like to know what my children have been about. I've been breaking in the grey cold. No easy business that, directing the plowing of the last wheat stubble, for the plough's boy has no sense to direct himself, and caring how to plan for the extensive and efficient training of the low meadowlands. That's my brave boy. And Fergus, what have you been doing? Badger baiting. And here he proceeded to give a particular account of his sport and respective trait of prowess evinced by the badger and the dogs. My mother pretending to listen with deep attention and watching his animated countenance with a degree of maternal admiration I thought highly disproportion to its object. It's time he should be doing something else, Fergus. Said I, as soon as a momentary pause in his narration allowed me to get in a word. What can I do? replied he. My mother won't let me go to sea or enter the army, and I'm determined to do nothing else. Except make myself a nuisance to you all that you'll be thankful to get rid of me on any terms. Our parent certainly strokes his teeth short curls. He growled and tried to look sulky, and then we all took our seats at the table in obedience to the thrice-beated summons of rose. Now take your tea. said she. And I'll tell what I've been doing. I've been to Culland Wilson's, and it's a thousand pitties he didn't go with me, Gilbert, for Eliza Miller was there. Well, what of her? Oh, nothing. I'm not going to tell you about her. Only that she's a nice, amusing little thing when she's in a merry humor, and I shouldn't mind calling her. Hush, hush, my dear. Your brother has no such idea. whispered my mother earnestly, holding up her finger. Well, resumed Rose. I was going to tell an important piece of news I heard there. I've been bursting with it ever since. You know it was reported a month ago that somebody was going to take Walfell Hall. And what do you think? It has actually been inhabited above a week, and we never knew. Impossible. cried my mother. preposterous. strict furgus. It has indeed, and by a single lady. Good gracious, my dear, the place is in ruins. She has had two or three rooms made available, and there she lives all alone, except an old woman for a servant. Oh dear, that spoils it. I hope she was a witch. Absurd furgus, while carving his inch-thick slice of bread and butter. Nonsense, furgus. But isn't it strange, mama? Strange. I can hardly believe it. But you may believe it, for Jane Wilson has seen her. She went to their mother, who, of course, when she heard of a stranger being in a neighborhood, would be on pins and needles till she had seen her and got all she could out of her. She is called Mrs. Graham, and she is in mourning. Not with those weeds, but slightish mourning. And she is quite young, they say, not above five or six and twenty, but so reserved. They tried all they could to find out who she was and where she came from and all about her. But neither Mrs. Wilson, with her pertinence and impugnant home thrusts, nor Mrs. Wilson, with her skillful maneuvering, could manage to elive the single satisfactory answer, or even a casual remark or chance expression calculated to ally their curiosity, or through all the faintest ray of light upon her history, circumstances or connections. Moreover, she was barely civil to them and evidently better pleased to say goodbye than how do you do? But, to lie the millward says, her father intends to call upon her soon to offer some pastoral advice, which he fears she needs as, though she is known to have entered the neighborhood early last week, she did not make her appearance at church on Sunday. And she, Eliza, that is, will beg to accompany him and is sure she can succeed in withling something out of her. You know, Gilbert, she can do anything and we should call some time, Mama, it's only proper, you know. Of course, my dear, poor thing, how long she must feel and pray be quick about it and mind you bring me word how much sugar she puts in her G and what sort of caps and aprons she wears and all about it, for I don't know how I can live till I know. Said Fergus very gravely, but if he intended speech to be hailed as a master stroke of wheat, he signally failed, for nobody laughed. However, it was not much disconcerted at that, for when he had taken a mouthful of bread and butter and was about to swallow a gulp of tea, the humor of the thing burst up on him with such irresistible force that he was obliged to jump up from the table and rushed snorting and choking from the room. And a minute after, he was heard screaming in fearful agony in the garden. As for me, I was hungry and contented myself with silently demolishing the tea, ham and toast, while my mother and sister went on talking and continued to discuss the apparent or non-apparent circumstances and probable or improbable story of the mysterious lady. But I must confess that, after my brother's misadventure, I once or twice raised the cup to my lips and put it on again without daring to taste contents, lest I should endure my dignity by a similar explosion. The next day, my mother and Rose hastened to pay their compliments to the fairer clues, and came back but little wiser than they went. Though my mother declared she did not regret the journey, for if she had not gained much good, she fled herself, she had imparted some, and that was better. She had given some useful advice which, she hoped, would not be thrown away. For Mrs. Graham, though she said little to any purpose and appeared somewhat self-opinionated, seemed not incapable of reflection. Though she did not know where she had been all her life, poor thing, for she betrayed a lamentable ignorance on certain points and had not even the sense to be ashamed of it. On what points, mother? Asked I. On how so matters an old little nice attitude of cookery and such things that every lady ought to be familiar with, whether she be required to make a practical use of her knowledge or not. I gave her some useful pieces of information, however, and several excellent receipts, the value of which she evidently could not appreciate, for she begged I would not trouble myself, as she lived in such a plain, quiet way that she was sure she should never make use of them. No matter, my dear, said I, it is what every respectable female ought to know. And besides, though you are alone now, you will not be always so. You have been married, and probably, I might say almost certainly, will be again. You are mistaken there, ma'am, said she, almost utterly. I am certain I never shall. And I told her I knew better. Some romantic young widow, I suppose. Said I. Come there to end her days in solitude and mourn in secret for dear departed. But it won't last long. No, I think not. Observed rose. For she didn't seem very disconsolate, after all. And she is excessively pretty. Handsome, ready. You must see her, Gilbert. You can color her perfect beauty, though you could hardly pretend to discover resemblance between her and Eliza Milward. Well, I can imagine many faces more beautiful than Eliza's, though not more charming. I allow she has small claims to perfection. But then I maintain that, if she were more perfect, she would be less interesting. And so you prefer her false to other people's perfections. Just so. Saving my mother's presence. Oh, my dear Gilbert, what nonsense you talk. I mean it. It's quite out of question. Said my mother, getting up and bustling out of the room under pretence of household business in order to escape the contradiction that was trembling on my tongue. After that, rose favored me with further particulars respecting Mrs. Graham. Her appearance, manners and dress, and very furniture of the room she inhabited were all said before me with more clearness and precision than I cared to see them. But, as I was not a very attentive listener, I could not repeat the description if I would. The next day was Saturday, and, on Sunday, everybody wondered whether or not fair and known would profit by the vicar's remonstrance and come to church. I confess, I looked with some interest myself towards Old Family Pew, a pertaining to Whitefell Hall, with crimson discussions and linings, as in unprecedented and renewed so many years, and the grim scotches, with their lugurious boulders of rusty black cloth, frowned externally from the wall above. And there I beheld a tall, lady-like figure, clad in black. Her face was towards me, and there was something in it which, once seen, invited me to look again. Her hair was raving black, and, disposing long, glossy ringlets, a style of quaffur rather than unusual in those days, but always graceful and becoming. Her complexion was clear and pale. Her eyes I could not see, for, being a bent, upner prayer-book, they were concealed by their drooping lids and long black lashes, but the brows above were expressive and well-defined. The forehead was lofty and intellectual, the nose, a perfect aquiline and fixtures in general, unexceptionable. Only there was a slight hollowness about the cheeks and eyes, and lips, though finally formed, were a little too thin, a little too firmly compressed, and had something about them that betookened, I thought not very soft or a miable temper, as I said in my heart. I would rather admire you from this distance, fair lady, than be the partner of your home. Just then she happened to raise her eyes, and they met mine. I did not choose to withdraw my gaze, and she turned again to her book, but with a moment's cherry, indefinable expression of quiet scorn that was inexpressively provoking to me. She sinks me an impugned puppy. Thought I, hump, she shall change her mind before long if I think it worthwhile. But then it flashed up on me that these were very improper thoughts for a place of worship, and that my behavior on the present occasion was anything but what it ought to be. Previous, however, to directing my mind to the service, I glanced round the church to see if anyone had been observing me. But no, all who were not attending to their prayer books were attending to the strange lady, my good mother and sister among the rest, and Mrs. Wilson and her daughter, and even Eliza Millward was slightly glancing from the corners of her eyes towards an object of general attraction. Then she glanced at me, simpered a little and blushed, modestly looked at her prayer book, and in eager to compose her features. Here I was transgressing again, and this time I was made sensible of it by a sudden dig in the ribs from the elbow of my preferred brother. For the present, I could only resent the insult by pressing my foot upon his toes, deferring for the vengeance to look out out of church. Now, however, before I close this letter, I'll tell you who Eliza Millward was. She was Ficker's younger daughter, and a very engaging little creature for whom I felt most male degree of partiality. And she knew it, though had never come to any direct explanation, and had no definite intention of so doing. For my mother, who maintained there was no one good enough for me within twenty miles round, could not bear the thought of my marrying that insignificant little thing, who, in addition to her numerous other disqualifications, had not twenty pounds to call her own. Eliza's Ficker was at one slight and plump, her face small and nearly as round as my sister's. Complexion, something similar to hers, but more delicate and less decidedly blooming. Nose, retrows, figures generally regular, and altogether she was rather charming than pretty. But her eyes. I must not forget those remarkable features, for there in her chief attraction lay, in outward aspect at least. They were long and narrow in shape, the irid's black or very dark brown, the expression various and ever changing, but always either pretty or naturally. I have almost said diabolically, wicked or irresistibly bewitching, often both. Her voice was gentle and childish, her tread light and soft as that of a cat. But her manners more frequently resembled those of a pretty playful kitten, that is now pert and drogish, now timid and demure according to its own sweet will. Her sister, Mary, was several years older, several inches taller, and of a larger, quarter build. A plain, quite sensible girl, who had patiently nursed her mother, drove through her last long, tedious illness, and been the housekeeper and family drudge from thence to the present time. She was trusted and valued by her father, loved and courted by old dogs, cats, children and poor people, and slightly neglected by everybody else. The reverent Michael Millward himself was a tall, ponderous elderly gentleman who placed a shovel head above his large, square, messy featured face, carried a stout walking stick in his hand, and encased his steel-powerful limbs in ebriches and gaiters, or black silk stockings on state occasions. He was a man of fixed principles, strong prejudices and regular habits, and children of descent in any shape, acting under a firm conviction that his opinions were always right, and whoever differed from them must be either most deprably ignorant or wildfully blind. In childhood I had always been accustomed to regard him with a feeling of reverential awe. But lately, even now, surmounted for though he had a fatherly kindness for the well-behaved, he was a strict disciplinarian and had often sternly reproved our juvenile failings and pick-dealers. And moreover, in those days, whenever he called up on our parents, we had to stand up before him and say our catechism, or repeat, how doth little busy be, or some other him, or worse than all, be questioned about his last text and the heads of the discourse which he never could remember. Sometimes the worthy gentleman would reprove my mother for being overindulgent to her sons with reference to old ally or David and Epsilon, which was particularly gallant for feelings. And very highly as she respected him and always saying, I once heard her exclaim, I wish to goodness he had a son himself. He wouldn't be so ready with his advice to other people then. He'd see what it is to have a couple's boys to keep in order. He had a lot of care for his own bodily health, kept very early hours, regularly took a walk before breakfast, was vastly particular about warm and dry clothings, and never been known to preach the sermon without previously swallowing a raw egg, albeit he was gifted with good lungs and a powerful voice, and was generally extremely particular about what he ate and drank, though by no means obstimious, and having a mode of directory peculiar to himself. Being a great spider of tea and such slops and the patron of malt-liquors baking an egg, ham, hung beef, and other strong meats, which agreed well enough with his digestive organs and therefore were maintained by him to be good and wholesome for everybody and confidently recommended to the most delicate convalescents or despaptics, who, if they failed to derive the promised benefits from his prescriptions, were told it was because they had not persevered and if they complained of inconvenience results therefrom, were assured it was all fancy. I'll just touch up on two other persons whom I have mentioned and then bring this long letter to a close. These are Mrs. Wilson and her daughter. The former was the widow of a substantial farmer, a narrow-minded, tattling old gossip whose character is not worth describing. She had two sons, Robert, a rough contrived farmer, and Richard, a retiring, studious young man, who was studying the classics with Vicar's assistants, preparing for college with a view to enter the church. Their sister Jane was the young lady of some talents and more ambition. She had, at her own desire, received a regular boarding school education, superior to what any member of the family had obtained before. She had taken the polish well, acquired considerable elegance of manners, quite lost in provincial essence, and could boast of more accomplishments than the Vicar's daughters. She was considered a beauty besides, but never for a moment could she number me amongst her admirers. She was about six-and-twenty, rather tall and very slender, her hair was near her chestnut nor orborn, but the most decided bright, light red. Her complexion was remarkably fair and brilliant, her head small, neck long, chin well churned but very short, lips thin and red, eyes clear hazel, quick and penetrating, but in childhood destitute of poetry or feeling. She had, or might have had, many tutors in her own rank of life, but scornfully repulsed or rejected them all. For none by that gentleman could please her refined taste, and none but the rich one could satisfy her serene ambition. One gentleman there was, from whom she had lately received some rather pointed attentions and up in whose heart, name and fortune, it was whispered, she had serious designs. This was Mr. Loras, the young squire, whose family yet formally occupied Wildfell Hall, but had deserted it some fifteen years ago for a more modern and comodious mention in the neighbouring parish. Now, Halford, I bid you adieu for the present. This is for installment of my debt. If the coin suits you, tell me so, and I'll send you the rest of my leisure. If you'd rather remain my creditor than stuff your purse with such ungainly, heavy pieces, tell me still, and I'll part near bad taste, and willingly keep the treasure to myself. Yours mutably. Gilbert Markham. End of chapter one. Things are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Robin Cotter. Toronto, Ontario. January, 2007. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. By Anne Bronte. Chapter 2 I perceive with joy my most valued friend the cloud of your displeasure has passed away. The light of your countenance blesses me once more, and you desire the continuation of my story. Therefore, without more ado, you shall have it. I think the day I last mentioned was a certain Sunday, the latest in the October of 1827. On the following Tuesday I was out with my dog and gun in pursuit of such game as I could find within the territory of Lindencar. But finding none at all, I turned my arms against the hawks and carrion-crows, whose depredations, as I suspected, had deprived me of better prey. To this end I left the more frequented regions, the wooded valleys, the cornfields, and the meadowlands, and proceeded to mount the steep aclivity of Wildfell, the wildest and loftiest eminence in our neighbourhood, where, as you ascend the hedges as well as the trees, become scanty and stunted, the former at length giving place to rough stone fences, partly greened over with ivy and moss, the latter to larches and scotch fir trees, or isolated black thorns. The fields being rough and stony, and wholly unfit for the plough, were mostly devoted to the posturing of sheep and cattle. The soil was thin and poor, bits of grey rock here and there, peeped out from the grassy hillocks, bilberry plants and heather, relics of a more savage wildness, grew under the walls. And in many of the enclosures, ragweeds and rushes, usurped supremacy over the scanty herbage, but these were not my property. Near the top of this hill, about two miles from Linden Carr, stood Wildfell Hall, a superannuated mansion of the Elizabethan era, built of dark grey stone, venerable and picturesque to look at, but doubtless, cold and gloomy enough to inhabit, with its thick stone mullions and little lattice panes, its time-eaten air-holes and its too lonely, too unsheltered situation, only shielded from the war of wind and weather by a group of scotch furs, themselves half blighted with storms and looking as stern and gloomy as the hall itself. Behind it lay a few desolate fields and then the brown, heath-clad summit of the hill, before it, enclosed by stone walls and entered by an iron gate, with the large balls of grey granite, similar to those which decorated the roof and gables, surmounting the gate-posts, was a garden, once stocked with such hard plants and flowers as could best brook the soil and climate, and such trees and shrubs as could best endure the gardener's torturing shears and most readily assume the shapes he chose to give them. Now, having been left so many years untilled and untrimmed, abandoned to the weeds and the grass, to the frost and the wind, the rain and the drought, resulted a very singular appearance indeed. The close green walls of Privet that had bordered the principal walk were two-thirds withered away and the rest grown beyond all reasonable bounds. The old boxwood swan that sat beside the scraper had lost its neck and half its body. The castellated towers of Laurel in the middle of the garden, the gigantic warrior that stood on one side of the gateway and the lion that guarded the other were sprouted into such fantastic shapes as resembled nothing, either in heaven or earth, or in the waters under the earth. But to my young imagination they presented all of them a goblinish appearance that harmonized well with the ghostly legions and dark traditions our old nurse had told us respecting the haunted hall and its departed occupants. I had succeeded in killing a hawk and two crows when I came within sight of the mansion, and then relinquishing further depredations I sauntered on to have a look at the old place and see what changes had been wrought in it by its new inhabitant. I did not like to go quite to the front and stare in at the gate, but I paused beside the garden wall and looked and saw no change except in one wing where the broken windows and dilapidated roof had evidently been repaired and where a thin wreath of smoke was curling up from the stack of chimneys. While I thus stood, leaning on my gun and looking up at the dark gables sunk in an idle reverie, weaving a tissue of wayward fancies in which old associations and the fair young hermit, now within those walls, bore a nearly equal part, I heard a slight rustling and scrambling just within the garden and glancing in the direction once the sound proceeded, I beheld a tiny hand elevated above the wall. It clung to the topmost stone and then another little hand was raised to take a firmer hold and then appeared a small white forehead surmounted with wreaths of light brown hair with a pair of deep blue eyes underneath and the upper portion of a diminutive ivory nose. The eyes did not notice me but sparkled with glee on beholding Sancho, my beautiful black and white setter that was coursing about the field with its muzzle to the ground. The little creature raised its face and called aloud to the dog the good-natured animal paused, looked up and wagged his tail but made no further advances. The child, a little boy, apparently about five years old, scrambled up to the top of the wall and called again and again but finding this of no avail apparently made up his mind, like Muhammad, to go to the mountain since the mountain would not come to him and attempted to get over but a crabbed old cherry tree that grew hard by caught him by the frock in one of its crooked, scraggie arms that stretched over the wall. Attempting to disengage himself his foot slipped and down he tumbled but not to the earth the tree still kept him suspended there was a silent struggle and then a piercing shriek but in an instant I had dropped my gun on the grass and caught the little fellow in my arms. I wiped his eyes with his frock and told him he was all right and called Sancho to pacify him with his little hand on the dog's neck and beginning to smile through his tears when I heard behind me a click of the iron gate and a rustle of female garments and lo, Mrs. Graham darted upon me her neck uncovered her black locks streaming in the wind give me the child she said in a voice scarce louder than a whisper but with a tone of startling vehemence and seizing the boy she snatched him from me if some dire contamination were in my touch and then stood with one hand firmly clasping his the other on his shoulder fixing upon me her large luminous dark eyes pale, breathless quivering with agitation I was not harming the child, madam said I, scarce knowing whether to be most astonished or displeased he was tumbling off the wall there and I was so fortunate as to catch him suspended headlong from that tree and prevent I know not what catastrophe I beg your pardon, sir stammered she, suddenly calming down polite of reason seeming to break upon her beclouded spirit and a faint blush mandling on her cheek I did not know you and I thought she stooped to kiss the child and fondly clasped her arm round his neck you thought I was going to kidnap your son, I suppose she stroked his head with a half embarrassed laugh and replied I did not know he had attempted to climb the wall I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Markham I believe, she added somewhat abruptly I bowed but ventured to ask how she knew me your sister called here a few days ago with Mrs. Markham is the resemblance so strong then I asked in some surprise and not so greatly flattered at the idea as I ought to have been there is a likeness about the eyes and complexion I think replied she, somewhat dubiously surveying my face and I think I saw you at church on Sunday I smiled there was something either in that smile or the recollections it awakened that was particularly displeasing to her for she suddenly assumed again that proud chilly look that had so unspeakably roused my aversion of the church a look of repellent scorn so easily assumed and so entirely without the least distortion of a single feature that while there it seemed like the natural expression of the face and was the more provoking to me because I could not think it affected good morning Mr. Markham said she and without another word or glance she withdrew with her child into the garden and I returned home angry and dissatisfied I could scarcely tell you why and therefore will not attempt it I only stayed to put away my gun and powder horn and give some requisite directions to one of the farming men and then repair to the vicarage to solace my spirit and soothe my ruffled temper with the company and conversation of Eliza Millward I found her as usual busy with some piece of soft jewelry the mania for Berlin wolves had not yet commenced while her sister was seated at the chimney corner with the cat on her knee mending a heap of stockings Mary, Mary put them away Eliza was hastily saying just as I entered the room not I indeed was the phlegmatic reply and my appearance prevented further discussion you're so unfortunate Mr. Markham with one of her archside long glances papa's just gone out into the parish and not likely to be back for an hour never mind I can manage to spend a few minutes with his daughters if they'll allow me said I bringing a chair to the fire and seating myself therein without waiting to be asked well if you'll be very good in amusing we shall not object let your permission be unconditional pray for I came not but to seek it I answered however I thought it but reasonable to make some slight exertion to render my company agreeable and what little effort I made was apparently pretty successful for Miss Eliza was never in a better humor we seemed indeed to be mutually pleased with each other and managed to maintain between us a cheerful and animated though not very profound conversation it was little better than a chat-a-tet for Miss Millward never opened her lips except occasionally to correct some random assertion or exaggerated expression of her sisters and once to ask her to pick up the ball of cotton that had rolled under the table I did this myself however as in duty bound thank you Mr. Markham said she as I presented it to her I would have picked it up myself only I did not want to disturb the cat Mary dear that won't excuse you in Mr. Markham's eyes said Eliza he hates cats I dare say as cordially as he does old maids like all other gentlemen don't you Mr. Markham I believe it is natural for our unamable sex to dislike the creatures replied I for you ladies lavish so many crosses upon them bless them little darlings cried she in a sudden burst of enthusiasm turning round and overwhelming her sister's pet with a shower of kisses don't Eliza said Miss Millward somewhat gruffly as she impatiently pushed her away but it was time for me to be going make what haste I would I should still be too late for tea and my mother was the soul of order and punctuality my fair friend was evidently unwilling to bid me adieu I tenderly squeezed her little hand at parting and she repaid me with one of her softest smiles and most bewitching glances I went home very happy with a heart brimful of complacency for myself and overflowing with love for Eliza End of Chapter 2 2 days after Mrs. Graham called at Lindencar contrary to the expectation of Rose who entertained an idea that the mysterious occupant of Wildsville Hall would wholly disregard the common observances of civilized life in which opinion she was supported by the Wilsons who testified that neither their call nor the Millwards had the right to speak to her and that she had the right to speak to her and that she had the right to speak to her and that she had the right to speak to her call nor the Millwards had been returned as yet now however the cause of that admission was explained though not entirely to the satisfaction of Rose Mrs. Graham had brought her child with her and on my mother's expressing surprise that he could walk so far she replied it is a long walk for him but I must have either taken him with me or relinquished the visit altogether for I never leave him alone and I think Mrs. Markham I must beg you to make my excuses to the Millwards and Mrs. Wilson when you see them as I fear I cannot do myself the pleasure of calling upon them until my little Arthur is able to accompany me but you have a servant said Rose could you not leave him with her she has her own occupations to attend to and besides she is too old to run after a child and he is too mercurial to be tied to an elderly woman but you left him to come to church yes once but I would not have left him for any other purpose and I think in the future I must contrive to bring him with me or stay at home is he so mischievous I asked my mother considerably shocked no replied the lady sadly smiling as she stroked the wavy locks of her son who was seated on a low stool at her feet and he is my only treasure and I am his only friend so we don't like to be separated but my dear I call that doting said my plan-spoken parent you should try to suppress such foolish fondness as well to save your son from ruin as yourself from ridicule ruin Mrs. Markham yes it is spoiling the child even at his age he ought not to be always tied to his mother's apron string and to be ashamed of it Mrs. Markham I beg you when I say such things in his presence at least I trust myself will never be ashamed to love his mother said Mrs. Graham with a serious energy that startled the company my mother attempted to appease her by an explanation but she seemed to think enough I've been sad on the subject and abruptly turned the conversation just as I thought said I to myself the lady's temper is none of the mildest notwithstanding her sweet pale face and lofty brow were thought and suffering seemingly to have stamped their impress all this time I was seated at a table on the other side of the room apparently immersed in the perusal of a volume of the farmer's magazine which I happened to have been reading at the moment of our visitors arrival and not choosing to be over civil I had merely bowed as she entered and continued my occupation as before in a little while however I was sensible that someone was approaching me with a light but slow and hesitating tread it was little Arthur irresistibly attracted by my dog Sancho that was lying at my feet on looking up I beheld him standing about two yards off with his clear blue eyes wistfully gazing on the dog transfixed to the spot not by fear of the animal I made a disinclination to approach his master a little encouragement however induced him to come forward the child though shy was not sullen in a minute he was kneeling on the carpet with his arms around Sancho's neck and in a minute or two more the little fellow was seated on my knee surveying with eager interest the various specimens of horses cattle pigs and model farms portrayed in the volume before me glanced at his mother now in the end to see how she relished the new spring intimacy and I saw by the unquiet aspect of her eye that for some reason or other she was uneasy at the child's position Arthur said she at length come here you're troublesome to Mr. Markham he wishes to read by no means Mrs. Grandpre let him stay I'm as much mused as he is pleaded I but still with hand and eye he really called him to her side no mama said the child let me look at these pictures first and then I'll come and tell you all about them we're going to have a small party on Monday the 5th of November said my mother and I hope you won't refuse to make one Mrs. Grandpre you can bring your little boy with you you know and I daresay we shall be able to amuse him and then you can make your own apologies to the Millwards and Wilson's we'll be here I expect thank you I never go to parties oh but this will be quite a family concern early hours and nobody here but ourselves and just the Millwards and Wilson's most of whom you already know and Mr. Lawrence your landlord whom you ought to make acquaintance with I do know something of him but you must excuse me this time for the evenings now are dark and damp and Arthur I fear is too delicate to risk exposure to their influence with impunity we must defer the enjoyment of your hospitality to the return of longer days and warmer nights Rose now at a hint from my mother produced a decanter of wine with accompaniments of glasses and cake from the cupboard under the oak sideboard and the refreshment was duly presented to the guest they both partook of the cake but Mrs. Markham obscenately refused the wine in spite of their hostess's hospitable attempts to force it upon them Arthur especially shrank from the ruby nectar as if in terror and disgust it was ready to cry when urged to take it never mind Arthur said his mama Mrs. Markham thinks it will do you good as you retired with your walk but she would not oblige you to take it I dare say you would do very well without he detests the very side of wine she added and the smell of it almost makes him sick I have been accustomed to make him swallow a little wine or weak spirits and water by way of medicine when he was sick and in fact I have done what I could to make him hate them everybody laughed except the young widow and her son well Mrs. Graham said my mother wiping the tears of merriment from her bright blue eyes well you surprised me I really gave you credit for having more sense the poor child will be the various milk soft that ever was soft only think what a man you will make of him if you persist in I think it a very excellent plan interrupted Mrs. Graham with imperturable gravity by that means I hope to save him from one degrading vice at least I wish I could render the incentives to every other equally inoxious in his case but by such means said I you will never render him virtuous what is it that constitutes virtue Mrs. Graham is it the circumstance of being able and willing to resist temptation or that of having no temptation to resist is he a strong man that overcomes great obstacles and performs surprising achievements though by dent of great muscular exertion and at the risk of some subsequent fatigue or he that sits in his chair all day with nothing to do more labor than stirring the fire and carrying his food to his mouth if you would have your son to walk honorably through the world you must not attempt to clear the stones from his path but teach him to walk firmly over them not insist upon leading him by the hand but let him learn to go alone I will lead him by the hand Mr. Markham till he gets strength to go alone and I will clear as many stones from his path as I can and teach him to avoid the rest or walk firmly over them as you say for when I have done my utmost in the way of clearance there will still be plenty left to exercise all the agility, steadiness and circumspection he will ever have it is all very well to talk about noble resistance and trials of virtue but for fifty or five hundred men that have yielded to temptation show me one that has had virtue to resist and why should I take it for granted that my son will be one in a thousand and not rather prepare him for the worst and suppose he will be like his like the rest of mankind unless I take care to prevent it you are very complimentary to us all I observed I know nothing about you I speak of those I do know and when I see the whole race of mankind with a few rare exceptions stumbling and blundering along the path of life sinking into every pitfall and breaking their shins over every impediment that lies in their way shall I not use all these means and my power to ensure for him a smoother and a safer passage yes but the surest means will be to endeavor to fortify him against temptation not to remove it out of his way I will do both Mr. Markham God knows he will have temptations enough to assail him both from within and without when I have done all I can to render vice as un-inviting to him as it is abominable in its own nature I myself have had indeed but few incentives to what the world calls vice but yet I have experienced temptations and trials of another kind that have required on many occasions more watchfulness and firmness to resist than I have hitherto been able to muster against them and this I believe is what most others would acknowledge who were accustomed to reflection and wishful to strive against their natural corruptions yes said my mother but half apprehending her drift but you would not judge of a boy yourself and my dear Mrs. Graham let me warn you in good time against the error the fatal error I may call it of taking that boy's education upon yourself because you're a clever in some things and well informed you may fancy yourself equal to the task but indeed you are not and if you persist in the attempt believe me you will bitterly repent it when the mischief is done I am to send him to school I suppose to learn to despise his mother's authority and affection said the lady with a rather bitter smile oh no but if you would have a boy to despise his mother let her keep him at home and spend her life impeding him up and slaving to indulge his follies and caprices I perfectly agree with you Mrs. Morgan but nothing can be further from my principles and practice than such criminal weakness as that well but if you treat him like a girl you'll spool his spirit and make him your misnancy of him you will indeed Mrs. Graham whatever you may think but I'll get Mr. Millward to talk to you about it he'll tell you the consequences he'll set it before you as plain as the day and tell you what you ought to do and all about it and I don't doubt he'll be able to convince you in a minute no occasion to trouble a vicar said Mrs. Graham glancing at me I suppose I was smiling at my mother's unbounded confidence in that worthy gentleman Mr. Markham here thinks his powers of conviction at least equal to Mr. Millward's if I hear not him neither should I be convinced though one rose from the dead he would tell you well Mr. Markham you that maintain that a boy should be sheltered from evil that sent out to battle against it alone and unassisted not taught to avoid the snares of life but bullied to rush into them or over them as he may to seek danger rather than shun it and feed his virtue by temptation would you I beg your pardon Mr. Graham but you get on too fast I have not yet said that a boy should be taught to rush into the snares of life or even willfully to seek temptation for the sake of exercising his virtue by overcoming it I only said that it was better to arm and strengthen your hero than to disarm and enable the foe to rear an oak sapling in a hot house tending it carefully not in day and shielding it from every breath of wind you could not expect it to become a hardy tree like that which has grown up on the mountainside exposed to all the action of the elements and not even sheltered from the shock of the tempest granted but would you use the same argument with regard to a girl certainly not no you would have her to be utterly and delicately nurtured like a hot house plant taught to cling to others for direction and support and guarded as much as possible from the very knowledge of evil but would you be so good as to inform me why you make this distinction is it that you think she has no virtue assuredly not well but you affirm that virtue is only elicited by temptation and you think that a woman cannot be too little exposed to temptation or too little acquainted with vice or anything connected there with it must be either that you think she is essentially so vicious or so feeble minded that she cannot withstand temptation and though she may be pure and innocent as long as she is kept in ignorance and restraint yet being destitute of real virtue to teach her how to sin is it wants to make her a sinner and the greater her knowledge the wider her liberty the deeper will be heard the privacy whereas in the nobler sex there is a natural tendency to goodness guarded by superior fortitude which the more it is exercised by trials and dangers is only the further developed heaven forbid that I should think so I interrupted at last well then it must be that you think they are both weak and prone to error and the slottest error the mere shadow of pollution will ruin the one while the character of the other will be strengthened and embellished his education properly finished by a little practical acquaintance with forbidden things such experience to him to use a trite simile will be like the storm to the oak which though it may scatter the leaves and snap the smaller branches serves but to rivet the roots and to harden and condense the fibers of the tree to prove all things by their own experience while our daughters must not even profit by the experience of others now I would have both so to benefit by the experience of others and the precepts of a higher authority that they should know beforehand to refuse the evil and choose the good and require no experimental proofs to teach them the evil of transgression I would not send a poor girl into the world unarmed against her foes and ignorant of the snares that beset her path nor would I watch and guard her till depraved of self-respect and self-reliance she lost the power or the will to watch and guard herself and as for my son if I thought he would grow to be what you call a man of the world one that has seen life and glories in his experience even though he should so far profit by it as to subredown at length into a useful and respected member of society I would rather that he die tomorrow rather a thousand times she earnestly repeated pressing her darling to her side and kissing his forehead with intense affection he had already left his new companion and been standing for some time beside his mother's knee looking up into her face and listening in silent wonder to her incomprehensible discourse well you ladies must always have the last word I suppose said I observing her rise and begin to take leave of my mother you may have as many words as you please only I can't stay to hear them no that is the way you hear just as much of an argument as you please and the rest may be spoken to the wind if you are anxious to say anything more on this subject replied she as she shook hands with Rose you must bring your sister to see me some fine day and I'll listen as patiently as you could wish to whatever you please to say I would rather be lectured by you than the vicar because I should have less remorse in telling you at the end of the discourse that I preserve my own opinion precisely the same as at the beginning as would be the case I am persuaded with regard to either a logician yes of course replied I determined to be as provoking as herself for when a lady does consent to listen to an argument and gets to her own opinions she is always predetermined to withstand it to listen only with her bodily ears keeping the mental organs resolutely closed and gets the strongest reasoning good morning Mr. Markham said my fair antagonist with a pitying smile and daining no further rejoinder she slightly bowed and was about to withdraw but her son with childish impertinence arrested her by exclaiming my ma you have not shaken hands with Mr. Markham she laughingly turned around and held out her hand I gave it a spiteful squeeze for I was annoyed at the continual injustice she had done me from the very dawn of her acquaintance without knowing anything about my real disposition and principles she was evidently prejudiced against me and seemed to be upon showing me that her opinions respecting me on every particular fell far below those I entertained of myself I was naturally touchy or it would not have vexed me so much perhaps too I was a little bit spooled by my mother and sister and some other ladies of my acquaintance and yet I was by no means a fob of that I am fully convinced whether you are or not end of chapter 3 of the tenet of Wildtvelle Hall reading by Marie Mayness www.thebrontesoul.wetpaint.com Chapter 4 of the Tenet of Wildtvelle Hall This is the LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Tenet of Wildtvelle Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 4 Our party on the 5th of November passed off very well in spite of Mrs. Graham's refusal to grace it with her presence Indeed it is probable that had she been there there would have been less cordiality freedom and frolic amongst us than there was without her My mother as usual was cheerful and chatty full of activity and good nature and only faulty in being too anxious to make her guest happy thereby forcing several of them to do what their soul afford in the way of eating or drinking sitting opposite the blazing fire or talking when they would be silent Nevertheless they bore it very well being all in their holiday humours Mr. Millward was mighty in important dogmas and centenuous jokes linked to dotes and oracular discourses dealt out for the edification of the whole assembly in general and of the admiring Mrs. Markham the polite Mr. Lawrence the sedate Mary Millward the quiet Richard Wilson and the matter of fact Robert in particular as being the most attentive listeners Mrs. Wilson was more brilliant than ever with her budgets of fresh news and old scandal strung together with trivial questions and remarks and oft repeated observations uttered apparently for the sole purpose of denying a moment's rest to her inexhaustible organs of speech she had brought her kneading with her and it seemed as if her tongue had laid wager with her fingers to outdo them in swift and ceaseless motion her daughter Jane was of course as graceful elegant as witty and seductive as she could possibly manage to be for here were all the ladies to outshine and all the gentlemen to charm and Mr. Lawrence especially to capture and sedue her little arts to affect his subjugation were too subtle and impalpable to attract my observation but I thought there was a certain refined affectation of superiority and an ingenual self-consciousness about her that negative all her advantages and after she was gone Rose interpreted to me her various looks words and actions with a mingled acuteness and asperity that made me wonder equally at the ladies artifice and my sister's penetration and asked myself if she too had an eye to the squire but never mind Halford she had not Richard Wilson Jane Younger brother set in a corner apparently good tempered but silent and shy desire is to escape observation but willing enough to listen and observe and although somewhat out of his element he would have been happy enough in his own quiet way if my mother could only have let him alone but in her mistaken kindness she kept persecuting him with her attentions pressing upon him all manner of vines under the notion that he was too bashful to help himself and obliging him to shout across the room his monosyllabic replies to the numerous questions and observations by which she vainly attempted to draw him into conversation Rose informed me that he never would have favored us with his company but for the importunities of his sister Jane who was most anxious to show Mr. Lawrence that she had at least one brother more gentlemanly and refined than Robert that were the individuals she had been equally solicitous to keep away but he affirmed that he saw no reason why he should not enjoy a crack with Markham and the old lady my mother was not old really and Bonnie missed Rose and the parson as well as the best and he was in the right of it too so he talked commonplace with my mother and Rose and discussed parish affairs with the vicar farming matters with me and politics with us both Mary Millward was another mute not so much tormented with cruel kindness as Dick Wilson because she had a certain short decided way of answering and refusing and was supposed to be rather sullen than dividend however that might be she certainly did not give much pleasure to the company nor did she appear to derive much from it Eliza told me that she had only come because her father insisted upon it having taken it into his head that she devoted herself too exclusively to her household duties to the neglect of such relaxations and innocent enjoyments as were proper to her age and sex she seemed to me to be good-humored enough on the whole once or twice she was provoked to laughter by the wit or the merriment of some favorite individual amongst us and then I observed she saw the eye of Richard Wilson who said over against her as he studied with her father she had some acquaintance with him in spite of the retiring habits of both and I suppose there was a kind of fellow feeling established between them my Eliza was charming beyond description coquettish without affectation and evidently more desirous to engage my attention than that of all the room besides heard a lot in having me near her seated or standing by her whispering in her ear or pressing her hand in the dance was plainly legible in her glowing face and heaving bosom however belied by saucy words and gestures but I had better hold my tongue if I boast of these things now I shall have to blush hereafter to proceed then with the various individuals of her party rose was simple and natural as usual and full of mirth and vivacity Fergus was impertinent and absurd but his impertinence and folly served to make others laugh if they did not raise himself in their estimation and finally, for I admit myself, Mr. Lawrence was gentlemanly and inoffensive to all and polite to the vicar and the ladies especially his hostess and her daughter and Ms. Wilson misguided man he had not the taste to prefer Eliza Millward Mr. Lawrence and I were intolerably intimate terms essentially of reserved habits but seldom quitting the secluded place of his birth where he had lived in solitary state since the death of his father he had neither the opportunity nor the inclination for forming many acquaintances and of all he had ever known I, judging by the results was the companion most agreeable to his taste I liked the man well enough that he was too cold and shy to obtain my cordial sympathies a spirit of candor and frankness when wholly unaccompanied with coarseness he admired in others but he could not acquire it to himself his excessive reserve upon his own concerns was indeed provoking and chilly enough but I forgave it from a conviction that he originated less in pride and more of confidence in his friends than in a certain morbid feeling of delicacy and a peculiar diffidence that he was sensible of but wanted energy to overcome his heart was like a sensitive plant that opens for a moment in the sunshine but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger or the lightest breath of wind and upon the whole our intimacy was rather a mutual predilection than a deep and solid friendship such as has arisen between myself and you Halford whom, in spite of your occasional crustiness, I can liken to nothing so well as an old coat unimpeachable in texture but easy and loose that has conformed itself to the shape of the wearer in which he may use as he pleases without being bothered with the fear of spooling him whereas Mr. Lawrence was like a new garment trimmed to look at but so tight in the elbows that you would fear to split the seams by the unrestricted motion of your arms and so smooth and fine in surface that you would scruple to expose it to a single drop of rain soon after the arrival of the guest my mother mentioned Mrs. Graham regretting she was not there to meet them and explained to the Millwards and Wilsons the reasons she had given for neglecting to return their calls hoping they would excuse her as she was sure she did not mean to be uncivil and would be glad to see them at any time but she's a very singular lady Mr. Lawrence how did she we don't know what to make of her and I dare say you can tell us something about her for she is your tenant you know and she said she knew you a little all eyes returned to Mr. Lawrence I thought he looked necessarily confused at being so appealed to Mrs. Markham said he you are mistaken I don't that is I have seen her certainly but I'm the last person you should apply to for information respecting Mrs. Graham he then immediately turned to Rose and asked her to favor the company with a song or a tune on the piano no said she you must ask Mrs. Wilson she outshines us all in singing and music too Mrs. Wilson demurred she'll sing readily enough said Fergus if you'll undertake to stand by her Mr. Lawrence and turn over the leaves for her I shall be most happy to do so Mrs. Wilson will you allow me she broadled her long neck and smiled and suffered him to lead her to the instrument where she played and sang in her very best style one piece after another while he stood patiently by leaning one hand on the back of her chair and turning over the leaves of her book with the other perhaps he was as much charmed with her performance as she was it was all very fine in its way but I cannot say that it moved me very deeply there was plenty of skill and execution but precious little feeling but we had not done with Mrs. Graham yet I don't take wine Mrs. Markham said Mr. Millward upon the introduction of that beverage I'll take a little of your homebrewed ale I always prefer your homebrewed to anything else flattered at this compliment my mother rang the bell and a china jug of her best ale was presently brought and set before the worthy gentleman so well knew how to appreciate its excellencies now this is the thing cried he pouring out a glass of the same in a long stream skillfully directed from the jug to the tumbler so as to produce much foam without spilling a drop and having surveyed it for a moment opposite the candle he took a deep drought and then smacked his lips drew a long breath my mother looking on with the greatest satisfaction there's nothing like this Mrs. Markham said he I always maintain that there's nothing to compare with your homebrewed ale I'm sure I'm glad you like it sir I always look after the brewing myself as well as the cheese and the butter I like to have things well done while we're about it quite right Mrs. Markham but then Mr. Millward you don't think it wrong to take a little wine now and then or a little spirits either said my mother as she handed a smoking tumbler of gin and water to Mrs. Wilson who affirmed that wine set heavy on her stomach and his son Robert was at that moment helping himself to a pretty stiff glass of the same by no means replied the oracle with a joe lottenawd these things are all blessings and mercies if we only knew how to make use of them but Mrs. Graham doesn't think so you shall just hear now what she told us the other day I told her I'd tell you and my mother favored the company with a particular count of that lady's mistaken ideas and conduct regarding the matter in hand concluding with now don't you think it is wrong wrong repeated the vicar with more than common solemnity criminal I should say criminal not only isn't making a fool of the boy but it is despising the gifts of providence and teaching him to trample them under his feet he then entered more full again to the question and explained at large the folly and impiety of such a proceeding my mother heard him with profound disreverance and even Miss Wilson stopped safe to rest her tongue for a moment and listen in silence while she complacently sipped her gin and water Mr. Lawrence sat with his elbow on the table carelessly playing with his half empty wine glass and covertly smiling to himself but don't you think Mr. Millward suggested he went at length that gentleman paused in his discourse that when a child may be naturally prone to intemperance by the fault of its parents or ancestors for instance some precautions are advisable now it was generally believed that Mr. Lawrence's father had shortened his days by intemperance some precautions it may be but temperance sir is one thing and abstinence another but I have heard that with some persons temperance that is in moderation is almost impossible and if abstinence being evil which some have doubted no one will deny that excess is a greater some parents have entirely prohibited their children from tasting intoxicating liquors but a parent's authority cannot last forever children are naturally prone to hanker after forbidden things and a child in such a case would be likely to have a strong curiosity to taste and try the effect of what has been so louded and enjoyed by others so strictly forbidden to himself which curiosity would generally be gratified on the first convenient opportunity and the restraint once broken serious consequences might ensue I don't pretend to be a judge of such matters but it seems to me that this plan of Mrs. Graham's as you describe it Mrs. Markham extraordinary as it may be is not without its advantages for here you see the child is delivered at once from temptation he has no secret curiosity no hankering desire he is as well acquainted with attempting liquors as he ever wishes to be and is thoroughly disgusted with them without having suffered from their effects and is that right sir have I not proven to you how wrong it is contrary to scripture and to reason to teach a child to look with contempt and disgust upon a blessing of providence instead of to use them a right you may consider loudening a blessing of providence sir replied Mr. Lawrence smiling and yet you will allow that most of us have better abstain from it even in moderation but added he I would not desire you to follow out my semily too closely and witness whereof I finished my glass and take another I hope Mr. Lawrence said my mother pushing the bottle towards him he politely declined and pushing his chair a little away from the table went back towards me I was seated a truffle behind on the sofa beside the lives in me and carelessly asked me if I knew Mrs. Graham I have met her once or twice I replied think of her I cannot say that I like her much she is handsome or rather I should say distinguished and interesting in her appearance but by no means amiable a woman liable to take strong prejudices I should fancy and stick to them through thick and thin twisting everything into conformity with her own preconceived opinions too hard too sharp for my taste he made no reply but looked down and bit to slip and shortly after rose and soldered up to Ms. Wilson as much repelled by me I fancy as retracted by her I scarcely noticed it at the time but afterwards I was led to recall this and other trifling facts of a similar nature to my remembrance when but I must not anticipate we wound up the evening with dancing our worthy pastor thinking it no scandal to be present on the occasion though one of the village musicians was engaged to direct our evolutions with his violin but Mary Millward obstinately refused to join us and so did Richard Wilson though my mother earnestly and treated him to do so and even offered to be his partner we managed very well without them however with a single set of quadrills of country dances we carried it on till a pretty late hour and at length having called upon our magician to strike up a waltz I was just about to whirl Eliza around in that delightful dance accompanied by Lawrence and Jane Wilson and Fergus and Rose when Mr. Millward interposed with no no I don't allow that come it's time to be going now oh no papa pleaded Eliza high time my girl high time moderation in all things remember that's the plan let your moderation be known unto all men but in revenge I followed Eliza into the dimly lighted passage where under pretense of helping her on with her shaw I fear I must plead guilty to snatching a kiss behind her father's back while he was enveloping his throat and chin in the folds of a mighty comforter but alas in turning round there was my mother close behind me the consequence was that no sooner were the guests departed than I was doomed to a very serious remonstrance which unpleasantly checked the galloping course of my spirits and made a disagreeable close to the evening my dear Gilbert said she I wish you wouldn't do so you know how deeply I have your advantage at heart how I love you I rise you above everything else in the world and how much I long to see you well settled in life and how bitterly it would grieve me to see you married to that girl or any other in the neighborhood what you see in her I don't know it isn't only the one of money that I think about nothing of the kind but there's neither beauty nor cleverness nor goodness nor anything else that's desirable if you knew your own value I do you wouldn't dream of it do wait a while and see if you bind yourself to her you'll repent at all your lifetime when you look round you and see how many better there are take my word for it you will well mother do be quiet I hate to be lectured I'm not going to marry yet I tell you but dear me may it I enjoy myself at all yes my dear boy but not in that way I shouldn't do such things you would be wronging the girl if she were what she ought to be but I assure you she's as artful a little hussy as anybody need wish to see and you'll get entangled in her snares before you know where you are and if you do marry her Gilbert you'll break my heart so there's an end of it well don't cry about it mother said I for the tears were gushing from her eyes save Eliza don't abuse her anymore and set your mind at rest for I'll promise never to that is I'll promise to to think twice before I take any important step you seriously disapprove of so saying I lauded my candle and went to bed considerably quenched in spirit end of chapter 4 of the tenet of wild bell hall recording by Marie Mayness www.thebrontysoul.wetpaint.com Chapter 5 of the tenet of wild bell hall this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Marie Mayness the tenet of wild bell hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 5 it was about the close of the month that yielding a link to the urgent importunities of Rose I accompanied her in a visit to wild bell hall to our surprise we were ushered into a room where the first object that meant the ally was a painter's easel with a table beside it covered with rolls of canvas bottles of oil and varnish pallet brushes etc leaning against the wall were several sketches in various stages of progression and a few finished paintings mostly of landscapes and figures I must make you welcome to my studio said Mrs. Graham there is no fire in the sitting room today and it is rather too cold to show you into a place an empty grate and disengaging a couple of chairs from the artistical lumber that usurped them she bid us be seated and resumed her place beside the easel not facing it exactly but now and then glancing at the picture upon it while she conversed and giving it an occasional touch with her brush as if she found it impossible to wean her attention entirely from her occupation to fix it upon her guest it was a view of wild bell hall I seen an early morning from the field below rising in dark relief against the sky of clear silvery blue a few red streaks on the horizon faithfully drawn and colored and very elegantly and artistically handled I see your heart is in your work Mrs. Graham observed I I must beg you to go on with it for if you suffer a presence to interrupt you we shall be constrained to regard ourselves as unwelcome intruders I know replied she throwing her brush onto the table as this startled into politeness I am not so beset with visitors but that I can readily spare a few minutes to the few that do favor me with their company you have almost completed your painting said I approaching to observe it more closely and surveying it with a greater degree of admiration and delight than I cared to express a few more touches in the foreground will finish it I should think but why have you called it Burnley Manor Cumberland instead of Wildfell Hall I asked alluding to the name she had traced in small characters at the bottom of the canvas but immediately I was sensible of having committed an act of impertence in so doing for she colored and hesitated but after a moment's pause with a kind of desperate frankness she replied because I have friends acquaintances at least in the world for whom I desire my present abode to be concealed to see the picture and might possibly recognize the style and spot of the false initials I have put in the corner I take the precaution to give a false name to the place also in order to put them on a wrong scent if they should attempt to trace me out by it did you don't intend to keep the picture said I anxious to say anything to change the subject no I cannot afford to paint for my own amusement mama sends all her pictures to London said Arthur and somebody sells them for her there and sends us the money in looking around upon the other pieces I remarked a pretty sketch of Linden Hope from the top of the hill another view of the old hall basking in the sunny haze of a quiet summer afternoon and a simple but striking little picture of a child brooding with looks of silent but deep and sorrowful regret over a handful of withered flowers with glimpses of dark and low hills and autumn fields behind it and a dull, be-clouded sky above you see there is a sad dearth of subjects observed by the fair artist I took the old hall once on a moonlit night and I suppose I must take it again on a snowy winter's day and then again on a dark cloudy evening for I really have nothing else to paint I have been told that you have a fine view of the sea somewhere in the neighborhood is it true? and is it within walking distance? yes if you don't object to walking for a miles or nearly so little short of eight miles there and back and over a somewhat rough fatiguing road in what direction does it lie? I described the situation as well as I could and was entering upon an explanation of the various roads, lanes and fields to be transversed in order to reach it the goings straight on and turnings to the right and the left when she checked me with oh stop, don't tell me now I shall forget every word of your directions before I require them I shall not think about going till next spring and then perhaps I may trouble you at present we have the winter before us and she suddenly paused with a suppressed exclamation started up from her seat and saying excuse me one moment hurried from the room and shut the door behind her curious to see what had startled her so I looked towards the window for her eyes had been carelessly fixed upon at the moment before and just beheld the skirts of a man's coat vanishing behind a large holly bush that stood between the window and the porch it's mama's friend said Arthur Rose and I looked at each other I don't know what to make of her at all whispered Rose the child looked at her in grey surprise she straight way began to talk to him on indifferent matters while I am used to myself looking at the pictures there was one in an obscure corner that I had not before observed it was a little child seated on the grass with his lap full of flowers the tiny features and large blue eyes smiling through a shock of light brown curls and over the forehead as it bent above its treasure were sufficient resemblance to those of the young gentleman before me to proclaim it a portrait of Arthur Graham in his early infancy in taking this up to bring it to the lot I discovered another behind it with its face to the wall I ventured to take that up too it was the portrait of a gentleman in the full prime of youthful manhood handsome enough and not basely executed but if done by the same hand as the others it was evidently some years before for there was far more careful minuteness of detail and less of that freshness of coloring and freedom of handling that delighted and surprised me in them nevertheless I surveyed it with considerable interest there was a certain individuality in the features and expression that stamped it at once a successful likeness the blue eyes regarded the spectator with a kind of lurking drawlery you almost expected to see them wink the lips a little too voluptuously full seemed ready to break into a smile the warmly tended cheeks were embellished with a luxuriant growth of reddish whiskers while the bright chestnut hair clustering in abundant wavy curls trespassed too much upon the forehead to intimate that the owner thereof was prouder of his beauty than his intellect as perhaps he had reason to be and yet he looked no full I had not had the portrait in my hands two minutes before the fair artist returned only someone came about the pictures said she in apology for her abrupt departure I told him to wait I fear it will be considered an act of impertinence that I to presume to look at a picture that the artist has turned to the wall but may I ask it is an act of great impertinence sir and therefore I beg you will ask nothing about it for your curiosity will not be gratified replied she attempting to cover the tartness of her rebuke with a smile but I could see by her flush cheek and kindling eye that she was seriously annoyed I was only going to ask if you had painted it yourself said I soakingly resigning the picture into her hands for without a grain of ceremony she took it from me and quickly restoring it to the dark corner with its face to the wall placed the other against it as before and then returned to me and laughed but I was in no humor for jesting I carelessly turned to the window and stood looking out upon the desolate garden leaving her to talk to Rose for a minute or two and then telling my sister it was time to go shook hands with the little gentleman coolly bowed to the lady and moved towards the door but having bid a due to Rose Mrs. Graham presented her hand to me saying with a soft voice and by no means a disagreeable smile let not the sun go down upon your wrath Mr. Markham I'm sorry I offended you by my abruptness when a lady condescends to apologize there is no keeping one's anger of course so we parted good friends for once and this time I squeezed her hand with a cordial not a spiteful pressure And of Chapter 5 of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 6 of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte Chapter 6 During the next four months I did not enter Mrs. Graham's house nor she mine but still the ladies continued to talk about her and still our acquaintance continued though slowly to advance as for their talk I paid a little attention to that when it related to the fair hermit I mean and the only information I derived from it was that one fine frosty day should venture to take her little boy as far as the vicarage and that unfortunately nobody was at home but Miss Millward nevertheless she had sat a long time and by all accounts they had found a good deal to say to each other and parted with a mutual desire to meet again but Mary liked children and fond mamas like those who can duly appreciate their treasures but sometimes I saw her myself not only when she came to church but when she was out on the hills with her son whether taking a long purpose like walk or on special fine days leisurely rambling over the moor or the bleak pasture lands surrounding the old hall herself with a book in her hand her son gambling about her and on any of these occasions when I caught sight of her in my solitary walks or rides or while following my agricultural pursuits I generally contrived to meet her or overtake her and to talk to her and I decidedly like to talk to her little companion whom when once the ice of his shyness was fairly broken I found to be a very amiable intelligent and entertaining little fellow and we soon became excellent friends how much to the gratification of his mama I cannot undertake to say I suspected at first that she was desirous of throwing cold water on this growing intimacy too quench as it were the kindling flame of our friendship but discovering at length in spite of her prejudice against me that I was perfectly harmless and even well intentioned and that between myself and my dog her son derived a great deal of pleasure from the acquaintance that he would not otherwise have known she ceased to object and even welcomed my coming with a smile as for Arthur he would shout his welcome from afar and run to meet me fifty yards from his mother's side if I happened to be on horseback he was sure to get a canter or a gallop or if there was one of the draft horses within an available distance he was treated to a steady ride upon that which served his turn almost as well but his mother would always follow in trudge beside him not so much I believe to ensure his safe conduct as to see that I instilled no objectionable notions into his infant mind for she was ever on the watch and never would allow him to be taken out of her sight what pleased her best of all was to see him romping and racing with Sancho while I walked by her side not I fear for love of my company though I sometimes deluded myself with that idea so much as for the delight she took in seeing her son thus happily engaged in the enjoyment of those active sports so invigorating to his tender frame yet so seldom exercised for want of play might suited to his years and perhaps her pleasure was sweetened not a little by the fact of her instead of with him and therefore incapable of doing him any injury directly or indirectly designingly or otherwise small thanks to her for that same but sometimes I believe she really had some little gratification in conversing with me and one bright February morning during 20 minutes stroll along the moor she laid aside her usual asperity and reserve and fairly entered into conversation with me discoursing with so much eloquence and feeling on a subject happily coinciding with my own ideas and looking so beautiful with all but I went home enchanted and on my way moorly started to find myself thinking that after all it would perhaps be better to spend one's days with such a woman than with Eliza Millward and then I figuratively blushed for my inconstancy on entering the parlor I found Eliza there with Rose and no one else her surprise was not altogether so agreeable as it ought to have been we chatted together a long time but I found her rather frivolous and even a little insipid compared with the more mature and earnest Mrs. Graham alas for human constancy however thought I I ought not to marry Eliza since my mother so strongly objects to it and I ought not to delude the girl with the idea that I intended to do so now if this mood continue emancipating my affections from her soft yet unrelenting sway and though Mrs. Graham might be equally objectionable I may be permitted like the doctors to cure a greater evil by a less for I shall not fall seriously in love with the young widow I think nor she with me that's certain but if I find a little pleasure in her society I may surely be allowed to seek it and if the star of her divinity be bright enough to dim the lustre of Eliza's so much is the better but I scarcely can think it and thereafter I seldom suffered a fine day to pass without paying a visit to Wildfell about the same time my new acquaintance usually left her hermitage but so frequently was I involved in my expectations of another interview so changeable was she in her times of coming forth and in her places of resort so transient were the occasional glimpses I was able to obtain that I felt half inclined to think she took as much pains to avoid by company as I to seek hers but this was too disagreeable a supposition to be entertained a moment after could be conveniently dismissed one calm clear afternoon however in March as I was super intending the rolling of the Meadowland and the repairing of a hedge in the valley I saw Mrs. Graham down by the brook with a sketchbook in her hand absorbed in the exercise of her favorite art while Arthur was putting on the time with constructing dams and breakwaters in the shallow, stony stream I was rather in want of amusement and so rare an opportunity was not to be neglected so leaving both Meadow and hedge I quickly repaired to the spot but not before Sancho who immediately upon perceiving his young friend scoured at full gallop the intervening space and pounced upon him with impestuous mirth that precipitated the child almost into the middle of the beck but happily the stones preserved him at a serious wedding while their smoothness prevented his being too much hurt to laugh at the untoward event Mrs. Graham was studying the distinctive characters of the different varieties of trees in their winter nakedness and copying with a spirited though delicate touch their various ramifications she did not talk much but I stood and watched the progress of the pencil it was a pleasure to behold it so dexterously guided by those fair and graceful fingers but ere long their dexterity became impaired they began to hesitate to tremble slightly and make false strokes and then suddenly came to a pause while their owner laughingly raised her face to mine and told me that her sketch did not profit by my superintendence then said I I'll talk to Arthur till you're done I should like to have a ride Mr. Markham if Mama will let me said the child what on my boy that field replied he pointing to where the strong black mare was pulling the roller no no Arthur it's too far objected his mother but I promised to bring him back safe after a turn or two up and down the meadow and when she looked at his eager face she smiled and let him go it was the first time she had even allowed me to take him so much as half a field's length from her side and thrown upon his monstrous steed and suddenly proceeding down the wide steep field he looked the very incarnation of quiet gleeful satisfaction and delight the rolling however was soon completed but when I dismounted the gallant horseman and restored him to his mother she seemed rather displeased at my keeping him so long she had shut up her sketchbook and been probably for some minutes and patiently awaiting his return it was now high time to go home she said and would have bid me good evening yet I accompanied her half way up the hill she became more sociable and I was beginning to be very happy but I'm coming within sight of the grim old hall she stood still and turned towards me while she spoke as if half expecting I should go no further that the conversation would end here and I should now take leave and depart as indeed it was time to do for the clear cold eave was fast declining the sun had set and the givis moon was visibly brightening still grey sky but a feeling almost of compassion riveted me to the spot it seemed hard to leave her to such a lonely comfortless home I looked up at it silent and grim it frowned before us a faint red light was gleaming from the lower windows of one wing but all the other windows were in darkness and many exhibited their black cavernous gulfs entirely destitute of glazing or framework do you not find it a desolate place to live in said I after a moment of silent contemplation I do sometimes replied she I went her evenings when Arthur is in bed and I am sitting there alone hearing the bleak wind moaning around me and howling through the ruinous old chambers no books or occupations can repress the dismal thoughts and apprehensions that come crowding in but it is folly to give way to such weakness I know if Rachel is satisfied with such a life why should not I indeed I cannot be too thankful for such an asylum while it has left me the closing sentence was uttered in an undertone as if spoken rather to herself than to me she then bid me good evening and withdrew I had not proceeded many steps on my way homewards when I perceived Mr. Lawrence on his pretty gray pony coming up the rugged lane that crossed over the hilltop I went a little out of my way to speak to him for we had not matched for some time was that Mrs. Graham you were speaking to just now said he after the first few words of greeting had passed between us yes I thought so he looked contemplatively at his horses in Maine as if he had some serious cause of dissatisfaction with it or something else well what's that oh nothing replied he only I thought you disliked her he quietly added curling his classic lip with a slightly sarcastic smile suppose I did man to man changes mind on further acquaintance yes of course returned he nicely reducing an entanglement in the pony's redundant Tory Maine then suddenly returning to me and fixing his shy hazel eyes upon me with a steady penetrating gaze he added then you have changed your mind I can't say they have exactly no I think I hold the same opinion respecting her as before but slightly ameliorated oh he looked around for something else to talk about and glancing up at the moon made some remark on the beauty of the evening which I did not answer as being irrelevant to the subject Lawrence said I calmly looking him in the face are you in love with Mrs. Graham instead of his being deeply offended at this as I more than half expected he would the first start of surprise at the audacious question was followed by a tittering laugh as if he was highly amused at the idea I in love with her repeated he what makes you dream of such a thing from the interest you take in the progress of my acquaintance with the lady and the changes of my opinion concerning her I thought you might be jealous he laughed again jealous no but I thought you were going to marry Eliza Millward you thought wrong then you're going to marry either one or the other that I know of that I think you'd better leave them alone are you going to marry Jane Wilson he colored and played with the main again but answered no I think not then you would better let her alone she won't let me alone he might have said but he only looked silly and said nothing for the space of half a minute and then made another attempt to turn the conversation and this time I let it pass for he had born enough another word on the subject would have been like the last atom that breaks the camel's back I was too late for tea but my mother had kindly kept the teapot and muffin warm upon the hobs and though she scolded me a little readily admitted my excuses and when I complained of the flavor of the overdrawn tea she poured the remainder into the slop basin and Bade Rose put some fresh into the pot and re-boiled the kettle which offices were performed with great commotion and certain remarkable comments well if it had been me now I should have had no tea at all if it had been Fergus even he would have had to put up with such as there was have been told to be thankful if it was far too good for him but you we can't do too much for you it's always so if there's anything particularly nice at table mama winks and nods and need to abstain from it and if I don't attend to that she whispers don't eat so much of that Rose Gilbert will like it for a supper I'm nothing at all in the parlor it's come Rose put away your things and let's have the room tidy against they come in and keep up a good fire Gilbert likes a cheerful fire in the kitchen make that pie a large one Rose I dare say the boys will be hungry and don't put so much pepper in they'll not like it I'm sure or Rose don't put so many spices in the pudding Gilbert likes it plain or mind you or focus liked plenty if I say well mama I don't I'm told I ought not to think of myself you know Rose in all household matters we have only two things to consider first what's proper to be done and secondly what's most agreeable to the gentleman of the house anything will do for the ladies and a very good doctrine too said my mother Gilbert thinks so I'm sure very convenient doctrine for us at all events said I but if you would really study my pleasure mother consider your own comfort and convenience a little more than you do as for Rose I have no doubt she'll take care of herself whenever she does make a sacrifice or perform a remarkable act of devotedness she'll take good care to let me know the extent of it but for you I might sink into the grossest condition of self-indulgence and carelessness about the wants of others from the mere habit of being constantly cared for myself and having all my wants anticipated or immediately supplied well left in total ignorance of what has done for me if Rose did not enlighten me now and then then I should receive all your kindness as a matter of course and never know how much I owe you odd you never will know Gilbert till you're married then when you've got some trifling self-conceited girl like Eliza Millward careless of everything but her own immediate pleasure and advantage or some misguided obstinate woman like Mrs. Bram ignorant of her principal duties whenever only in what concerns her least to know then you'll find the difference it will do me good mother I was not sent into the world merely to exercise the good capacities and good feelings of others was I but to exert my own towards them and when I marry I shall expect to find more pleasure in making my wife happy and comfortable than in being made so by her I would rather give than receive oh that's all nonsense my dear it's mere boys talk that you'll soon tire of petting and humoring your wife be she ever so charming and then comes the trial well then we must bear one another's burdens then you must fall into your proper place you'll do your business and she if she's worthy of you will do hers but it's your business to please yourself and hers to please you I'm sure your poor dear father was this good a husband has ever lived and after the first six months or so he should as soon have expected him to fly is to put himself out of his way to pleasure me he always said I was a good wife and did my duty and he always did his bless him he was steady and punctual seldom found fault without reason always did justice to my good dinners and hardly ever spoiled my cookery by delay that's as much as any woman can expect of any man is it so Halford is that the extent of your domestic virtues your happy wife exact no more end of chapter 6 recorded by Sue Palu Olympia Washington January 1st, 2007