Beechcroft at Rockstone

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> Beechcroft at Rockstone

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Captain Henderson was as much in the way as a man could be who knew
but one family in the place, and had no resource but sketching. His
yellow moustache was to be seen at all manner of unexpected and
unwelcome times. If that great honour, a walk with papa, was
granted, out he popped from Marine Hotel, or a seat in the public
gardens, evidently lying in ambush to spoil their walk. Or he was
found tete-a-tete with mamma before the five-o'clock tea, talking, no
doubt, 'Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff,' as in the Royal Wardour
days. Even at Clipston, or in the coves on the beach, he was only
too apt to start up from some convenient post for sketching. He
really did draw beautifully, and Mysie would have been thankful for
his counsels if public opinion had not been so strong.

Moreover, Kitty Varley conveyed to Valetta the speculations of
Rockstone whether Gillian was the attraction.

'Now, Val,' said Mysie, 'how can you listen to such nonsense!'

'You said so before, and it wasn't nonsense.'

'It wasn't Aunt Jane.'

'No, but it was somebody.'

'Everybody does marry somebody; but it is no use for us to think
about it, for it always turns out just the contrary to all the books
one ever read; so there's no going by anything, and I don't believe
it right to talk about it.'

'Why not? Every one does.'

'All the good teachings say one should not talk of what one does not
want one's grown-ups to hear.'

'Oh, but then one would never talk of anything!'

'Oh, Val! I won't be sure, but I don't believe I should mind mamma's
hearing all I say.'

'Yes; but you've never been to school, and I heard Bee Varley say she
never saw anybody so childishly simple for her age.'

This brought the colour into Mysie's face, but she said---

'I'd rather be simple than talk as mamma does not like; and, Val, do
on no account tell Gillian.'

'I haven't.'

'And don't; don't tell Wilfred, or you know how horrid he would be.'

There was a tell-tale colour in Valetta's cheeks, by which Mysie
might have discerned that Valetta had not resisted the charm of
declaring 'that she knew something,' even though this was sure to
lead to tortures of various kinds from Wilfred until it was
extracted. Still the youth as yet was afraid to do much worse than
look preternaturally knowing at his sister and give hints about
Fangs' holding fast and the like, but quite enough to startle her
into something between being flattered and indignant. She was
scarcely civil to the Captain, and felt bound to express her dislike
on every possible occasion, though only to provoke a grin from
Wilfred and a giggle from Valetta.

Lady Merrifield's basket-carriage and little rough pony had been
brought from Silverfold, and she took Kalliope out for quiet drives
whenever it was possible; but a day of showers having prevented this,
she was concerned to find herself hindered on a second afternoon.
Gillian offered to be her substitute.

'You know I always drive you, mamma.'

'These are worse hills than at Silverfold, and I don't want you to
come down by the sea-wall.'

'I am sure I would not go there for something, among all the stupid
people.'

'If you keep to the turnpike you can't come to much harm with Bruno.'

'That is awfully---I mean horribly dusty! There's the cliff road
towards Arnscombe.'

'That is safe enough. I don't think you could come to much real
damage; but remember that for Kally a start or an alarm would be
really as hurtful as an accident to a person in health.'

'Poor old Bruno could hardly frighten a mouse,' said Gillian.

'Only take care, and don't be enterprising.'

Gillian drove up to the door of Cliff House, and Kalliope took her
seat. It was an enjoyable afternoon, with the fresh clearness of
June sunshine after showers, great purple shadows of clouds flitting
over the sea, dimpled by white crests of wave that broke the golden
path of sunshine into sparkling ripples, while on the other side of
the cliff road lay the open moorland, full of furze, stunted in
growth, but brilliant in colour, and relieved by the purple browns of
blossoming grasses and the white stars of stitchwort.

'This is delicious!' murmured Kalliope, with a gesture of enjoyment.

'Much nicer than down below!'

'Oh yes; it seems to stretch one's very soul!'

'And the place is so big and wide that no one can worry with
sketching.'

'Yes, it defies that!' said Kalliope, laughing.

'So, Fa---Captain Henderson won't crop up as he does at every
sketchable place. Didn't you know he was here?'

'Yes, Alexis told me he had seen him.'

'Everybody has seen him, I should think; he is always about with
nothing to do but that everlasting sketching.'

'He must have been very sorry to be obliged to retire.'

'Horrid! It was weak, and he might have been in Egypt, well out of
the way. No, I didn't mean that'---as Kalliope looked shocked---'but
he might have been getting distinction and promotion.'

'He used to be very kind,' said Kalliope, in a tone of regretful
remonstrance. 'It was he who taught me first to draw.'

'He! What, Fa---Captain Henderson?'

'Yes; when I was quite a little girl, and he had only just joined.
He found me out before our quarters at Gibraltar trying to draw an
old Spaniard selling oranges, and he helped me, and showed me how to
hold my pencil. I have got it still---the sketch. Then he used to
lend me things to copy, and give me hints till---oh, till my father
said I was too old for that sort of thing! Then, you know, my father
got his commission, and I went to school at Belfast.'

'And you have never seen him since?'

'Scarcely. Sometimes he was on leave in my holidays, and you know we
were at the depot afterwards, but I shall always feel that all that I
have been able to do since has been owing to him.'

'And how you will enjoy studying at Florence!'

'Oh, think what it would be if I could ever do a reredos for a
church! I keep on dreaming and fancying them, and now there really
seems a hope. Is that Arnscombe Church?'

'Yes, you know it has been nicely restored.'

'We had the columns to do. The reredos is alabaster, I believe, and
we had nobody fit to undertake that. I so longed for the power! I
almost saw it.'

'Have you seen what it is?'

'No; I never had time.'

'I suppose it would be too tiring for you now; but we could see the
outside.'

Gillian forgot that Arnscombe, whose blunt gray spire protruded
through the young green elms, lay in a little valley through which a
stream rushed to the sea. The lane was not very steep, but there
were loose stones. Bruno stumbled, he was down; the carriage stood
still, and the two girls were out on opposite sides in a moment,
Gillian crying out---

'Don't be frightened---no harm done!'---as she ran to the pony's head.
He lay quite still with heaving sides, and she felt utterly alone and
helpless in the solitary road with an invalid companion whom she did
not like to leave.

'I am afraid I cannot run for help,' said Kalliope quietly, though
breathlessly; 'but I could sit by the horse and hold his head while
you go for help.'

'I don't like. Oh, here's some one coming!'

'Can I be of any use?'

Most welcome sound!---though it was actually Captain Henderson the
ubiquitous wheeling his bicycle up the hill, knapsack of sketching
materials on his back.

'Miss Merrifield! Miss White! I trust no one is hurt!'

'Oh no, thank you, unless it is the poor pony! Kally, sit down on
the bank, I insist! Oh, I am so glad you are come!'

'Can you sit on his head while I cut the traces?'

Gillian did that comfortable thing till released, when the pony
scrambled up again, but with bleeding knees, hip, and side, though
the Captain did not think any serious harm was done; but it was even
more awkward at the moment that both the shafts were broken!

'What is to be done?' sighed Gillian. 'Miss White can't walk. Can I
run down to the village to get something to take her home?'

'The place did not look likely to supply any conveyance better than a
rough cart,' said their friend.

'It is quite impossible to put the poor pony in anyhow! I don't mind
walking in the least; but you know how ill she has been.'

'I see. Only one thing to be done,' said the Captain, who had
already turned the carriage round by the stumps of the shafts; 'you
must accept me in lieu of your pony.'

'Oh yes, thank you!' cried Gillian eagerly. 'I can lead poor Bruno,
and take care of your bicycle. Jump in, Kally!'

Kalliope, who had wisely abstained from adding a useless voice to the
discussion, here demurred. She could not think of such a thing; they
could very well wait in the carriage while Captain Henderson went on
to the town on his bicycle and sent out a midge.

But there were showers about, and a damp feeling in the lane. Both
the others thought this perilous; besides that, there might be rude
passengers to laugh at their predicament; and Captain Henderson
protested that the weight was nothing. He prevailed at last; and she
allowed him to hand her into the basket, when she could hardly stand,
and wrap the dust-cloth about her. Thus the procession set forth,
Gillian with poor drooping Bruno's rein in one hand and the other on
the bicycle, and the Captain gallantly drawing the carriage with
Kalliope seated in the midst. He tramped on so vigorously as quite
to justify his declaration that it was no burthen to him. It was not
a frequented road, and they met no one in the least available to do
more than stare or ask a question or two, until, as they approached
the town and Rockstone Church was full in view, who should appear
before their eyes but Sir Jasper, Wilfred carrying on his back a huge
kite that had been for many evenings in course of construction, and
Fergus acting as trainbearer.

Thus came on the first moment of Gillian's explanation, as Sir Jasper
took the poor pony from her and held counsel over the damage, with
many hearty thanks to Captain Henderson.

'I am sure, sir, no one could have shown greater presence of mind
than the young ladies,' said that gentleman; and her father's 'I am
glad to hear it!' would have gratified Gillian the more, but for the
impish grimace with which Wilfred favoured her behind Kalliope's
impassive back.

The kite-fliers turned, not without an entreaty from the boys that
they might go on alone and fly their kite.

'No, no, boys,' said their father---'not here; we shall have the kite
pulling you into the sea over the cliffs. I must take the pony home;
but I will come if possible to-morrow.'

Much disappointed, they went dolefully in the rear, grumbling sotto
voce their conviction that there would be no wind to-morrow, and that
it was all 'Fangs's' fault in some incomprehensible manner.

At Cliff House Kalliope was carefully handed out by Sir Jasper,
trying, but with failing voice, to thank Captain Henderson, and
declaring herself not the worse, though her hand shook so much that
the General was not content without giving her his arm up the stairs,
and telling Maura that he should send Mrs. Halfpenny up to see after
her. The maimed carriage was left in the yard, and Captain Henderson
then took charge of his iron horse, and the whole male party
proceeded to the livery stables; so that Gillian was able to be
alone, when she humbly repeated to her mother the tale parents have
so often to hear of semi-disobedience leading to disaster, but with
the self-reproach and sorrow that drew the sting of displeasure.
Pity for Bruno, grief for her mother's deprivation, and anxiety for
Kalliope might be penance and rebuke sufficient for a bit of
thoughtlessness. Lady Merrifield made no remark; but there was an
odd expression in her face when she heard who had come so opportunely
to the rescue.

Sir Jasper brought a reassuring account of the poor little steed,
which would be usable again after a short rest, and the blemish was
the less important as there was no intention of selling him. Mrs.
Halfpenny, too, reported that her patient was as quiet as a lamb.
'She wasn't one to fash herself for nothing and go into screaming
cries, but kenned better what was fitting for one born under Her
Majesty's colours.'

So there was nothing to hinder amusement when at dinner Sir Jasper
comically described the procession as he met it. Kalliope White,
looking only too like Minerva, or some of those Greek goddess statues
they used to draw about, sitting straight and upright in her
triumphal car, drawn by her votary; while poor Gillian came behind
with the pony on one side and the bicycle on the other, very much as
if she were conducting the wheel on which she was to be broken, as an
offering to the idol.

'I think,' said Mysie, 'Captain Henderson was like the two happy sons
in Solon's story, who dragged their mother to the temple.'

'Only they died of it,' said Gillian.

'And nobody asked how the poor mother felt afterwards,' added Lady
Merrifield.

'I thought they all had an apotheosis together,' said Sir Jasper.
'Let us hope that devotion may have its reward.'

There was a little lawn outside the drawing-room windows at Il Lido.
Lady Merrifield was sitting just within, and her husband had just
brought her a letter to read, when they heard Wilfred's impish voice.

'Jack---no, not Jack---Fangs!'

'But Fangs's name is Jack, so it will do as well,' said Valetta's
voice.

'Hurrah---so it is! Jack---'

'Hush, Wilfred---this is too foolish!' came Gillian's tones in
remonstrance.

'Jack and Jill went up the hill
To draw---'

'To draw! Oh, that's lovely!' interrupted Valetta.

'He is always drawing,' said Gillian, with an odd laugh.

'He was brought up to it. First teeth, and then "picturs," and then--
-oh, my---ladies home from the wash!' went on Wilfred.

'But go on, Will!' entreated Valetta.

'Jack and Jill went up the hill
To draw a piece of water---'

'No, no,' put in Wilfred---'that's wrong!

'To draw the sergeant's daughter;
Fangs dragged down unto the town,
And Jill came moaning after!'

'I didn't moan---'

'Oh, you don't know how disconsolate you looked! Moaning, you know,
because her Fangs had to draw the other young woman---eh, Gill? Fangs
always leave an aching void, you know.'

'You ridiculous boy! I'm sure I wish Fangs would leave a void. It
wouldn't ache!'

The two parents had been exchanging glances of something very like
consternation, and of the mute inquiry on one side, 'Were you aware
of this sort of thing? and an emphatic shake of the head on the
other. Then Sir Jasper's voice exclaimed aloud---

'Children, we hear every word you say, and are shocked at your
impertinence and bad taste!'

There was a scatter. Wilfred and Valetta, who had been pinioning
Gillian on either side by her dress, released her, and fled into the
laurels that veiled the guinea-pigs; but their father's long strides
pursued them, and he gravely said---

'I am very sorry to find this is your style of so-called wit!'

'It was only chaff,' said Valetta, the boldest in right of her
girlhood.

'Very improper chaff! I am the last person to object to harmless
merriment; but you are both old enough to know that on these subjects
such merriment is not harmless.'

'Everybody does it,' whined Valetta, beginning one of her crying
fits.

'I am sorry you have been among people who have led you to think so.
No nicely-minded girl will do so, nor any brother who wishes to see
his sisters refined, right-feeling women. Go in, Valetta---I can't
suffer this howling! Go, I say! Your mother will talk to you. Now,
Wilfred, do you wish to see your sisters like your mother?'

'They'll never be that, if they live to a hundred!'

'Do not you hinder it, then; and never let that insulting nickname
pass your lips again.'

Wilfred's defence as to universal use in the family was inaudible,
and he was allowed to slouch away.

Gillian had fled to her mother, entreating her to explain to her
father that such jests were abhorrent to her.

'But you know, mamma, if I was cross and dignified, Wilfred would
enjoy it all the more, and be ten times worse.'

'Quite true, my dear. Papa will understand; but we are sorry to hear
that nickname.

'It was an old Royal Wardour name, mamma. Harry and Claude both used
it, and---oh, lots of the young officers!'

'That does not make it more becoming in you.'

'N---no. But oh, mamma, he was very kind to-day! But I do wish it
had been anybody else!'

And her colour rose so as to startle her mother.

'Why, my dear, I thought you would have been glad that a stranger did
not find you in that plight!'

'But it makes it all the worse. He does beset us, mamma; and it is
hard on me, after all the other nonsense!'

Lady Merrifield burst out laughing.

'My dear child, he thinks as much of you as of old Halfpenny!'

'Oh, mamma, are you sure?' said Gillian, still hiding her face. 'It
was not silliness of my own; but Kitty Varley told Val that everybody
said it---her sister, and Miss Mohun, and all. Why can't he go away,
and not be always bothering about this horrid place with nothing to
do?'

'How thankful I shall be to have you all safe at Clipston!'

'But, mamma, can't you keep him off us?'

Valetta's sobbing entrance here prevented more; but while explaining
to her the causes of her father's displeasure, her mother extracted a
good deal more of the gossip, to which she finally returned answer---

'There is no telling the harm that is done by chattering gossip in
this way. You might have learnt by what happened before what
mistakes are made. What am I to do, Valetta? I don't want to hinder
you from having friends and companions; but if you bring home such
mischievous stories, I shall have to keep you entirely among
ourselves till you are older and wiser.'

'I never---never will believe---anybody who says anybody is going to
marry anybody!' sobbed Valetta desperately and incoherently.

'Certainly no one who knows nothing about the matter. There is
nothing papa and I dislike much more than such foolish talk; and to
tease your sister about it is even worse; but I will say no more
about that, as I believe it was chiefly Wilfred's doing.'

'I---told---Will,' murmured Valetta. 'Mysie begged me not, but I had
done it.'

'How much you would have saved yourself and everybody else if you had
let the foolish word die with you! Now, good-night, my dear. Bathe
your eyes well, or they will be very uncomfortable to-morrow; and do
try to cure yourself of roaring when you cry. It vexes papa so much
more.'

Another small scene had to follow with the boy, who was quite willing
to go off to bed, having no desire to face his father again, though
his mother had her fears that he was not particularly penitent for
'what fellows always did when people were spooning.' He could only
be assured that he would experience unpleasant consequences if he
recurred to the practice; but Wilfred had always been the problem in
the family.

The summer twilight was just darkening completely, and Lady
Merrifield had returned to the drawing-room, and was about to ring
for lights, when Sir Jasper came in through the window, saying---

'No question now about renewal. Angelic features, more than angelic
calmness and dignity. Ha! you there, young ladies!' he added in some
dismay as two white dresses struck his eye.

'There's no harm done,' said Lady Merrifield, laughing. 'I was
thinking whether to relieve Gillian's mind by telling her the state
of the case, and Mysie is to be trusted.'

'Oh, mamma, then it is Kalliope!' exclaimed Gillian, already
relieved, for even love could not have perceived calmness and dignity
in her sitting upon Bruno's head.

'Has she ever talked about him?' asked Lady Merrifield.

'No; except to-day, when I said I hoped she was safe from him on that
road. She said he had always been very kind to her, and taught her
to draw when she was quite a little girl.'

'Just so,' said Lady Merrifield. 'Well, when she was a little older,
poor Mr. White, who was one of the most honourable and scrupulous of
men, took alarm, and saw that it would never do to have the young
officers running after her.'

'It was an uncommonly awkward position,' added Sir Jasper, 'with such
a remarkable-looking girl, and a foolish unmanageable mother. It
made poor White's retirement the more reasonable when the girl was
growing too old to be kept at school any longer.'

'And has he been constant to her all these years? How nice!' cried
Mysie.

'After a fashion,' said Lady Merrifield. 'He made me the receptacle
of a good deal of youthful despair.'

'All the lads did,' said her husband.

'But he got over it, and it seemed to have passed out of his life.
However, he asked after the Whites as soon as we met him in London;
and now he tells me that he never forgot Kalliope---her face always
came between him and any one whom his mother threw in his way; and he
came down here, knowing her history, and with the object of seeing
her again.'

'And he has not, till now?'

'No. Besides the absolute need of keeping her quiet, it would not
exactly do for him to visit her while she is alone with Maura at
Cliff House, and I wished him first to see her casually amongst us,
for I dreaded her not fulfilling his ideal.'

'Oh!'

'When I think of her at fourteen or fifteen, with that exquisite
bloom and the floating wavy hair, I see a very different creature
from what she is now.'

'Peach or ivory carving,' said Sir Jasper.

'Yes; she is nobler, finer altogether, and has gained in countenance
greatly; but he may not think so, and I should like her to be looking
a little less ill.'

'Well, I can't help hoping he will be disappointed, and be too stupid
to care for her!' exclaimed Gillian.

'Indeed?' said her father in a tone of displeased surprise.

'He is so insignificant; he does not seem to suit with her,' said
Gillian in a tone of defence;' and there does not seem to be anything
in him.'

'That only shows the effect of nursing prejudice by using foolish
opprobrious nicknames. Henderson was a good officer, he has shown
himself an excellent son, always sacrificing his own predilections
for the sake of duty. He is a right-minded, religious, sensible man,
his own master, and with no connections to take umbrage at Miss
White's position. It is no commonplace man who knows how to honour
her for it. Nothing could be a happier fate for her; and you will be
no friend to her if you use any foolish terms of disparagement of him
because he does not happen to please your fancy.'

'I am sure Gillian will do no such thing, now that she understands
the case' said her mother.

'Oh no, indeed! said Gillian. 'It was only a first feeling.'

'And you will allow for a little annoyance, papa,' added Lady
Merrifield. 'We really have had a great deal of him, and he does
spoil the children's walks with you.'

Sir Jasper laughed.

'I agree that the sooner this is over the better. You need have no
doubts as to the first view, now that Gillian has effected the
introduction. No words can do justice to her beauty, though, by the
bye, he must have contemplated her through the back of his head!'

'Well, won't that do! Can't he be sent off for the present, for as
to love-making now, with all the doubts and scruples in the way, it
would be the way to kill her outright.'

'You must take that in hand, my lady---it is past me! Come, girls,
give us some music!'

The two girls went up at bed-time to their room, Mysie capering and
declaring that here was real, true, nice love, like people in
stories, and Gillian still bemoaning a little that, whatever papa
might say, Fa---Captain Henderson would always be too poor a creature
for Kalliope.

'If I was quite sure it was not only her beauty,' added Gillian
philosophically.

Lady Merrifield went up to Cliff House as early as she could the next
day. She found her patient there very white and shaken, but not so
much by the adventure of yesterday as by a beautiful bouquet of the
choicest roses which lay on the table before her sofa, left by
Captain Henderson when he had called to inquire after her.

'What ought I to do, dear Lady Merrifield?' she asked. 'They came
while I was dressing, and I did not know.'

'You mean about a message of thanks?'

'Yes; my dear father was so terribly displeased when I wore a rose
that he gave me before the great review at Belfast that I feel as if
I ought not to touch these; and yet it is so kind, and after all his
wonderful kindness yesterday.'

The hand on the side and the trembling lip showed the painful
fluttering of heart, and the voice died away.

'My dear, things are very different now. Take my word for it, your
father could not be displeased for a moment at any kindness between
you and Captain Henderson. Ten years ago he was a very young man,
and his parents were living, and your father was bound in honour, and
for your sake too, to prevent attentions from the young officers.'

'Oh yes, I know it would have been shocking to have got into that
sort of thing!'

'But now he is entirely at his own disposal, and a man of four or
five-and-thirty, who has gone through a great deal, and I do not
think that to send him a friendly message of thanks for a bunch of
flowers to his old fellow-soldier's daughter would be anything but
what Captain White would think his due.'

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