Chapter XII
In little more than twenty minutes the journey was accomplished. I paused at the gate to wipe my forehead, and recover my breath. The rapid walking mitigated my excitement; and with a firm and steady tread I paced the garden-walk. I caught a sight of Mrs. Graham, through the open window. She seemed agitated and even dismayed at my arrival.
I am come at an unseasonable hour, said I; but I won't stay long.
She smiled upon me.
How dismal you are, Helen! Why have you no fire? I said.
It is summer yet, she replied.
But we always have a fire in the evenings; and you especially require one in this cold house and dreary room.
You must not stay long, Gilbert, said she.
I'm not going to, said I. But, Helen, I've something to say to you before I go.
What is it?
No, not now I don't know yet precisely what it is, or how to say it, replied I.
Meanwhile Rachel came in to kindle the fire.
Gilbert, it is getting late, Helen said.
I see, said I. You want me to go, I suppose?
I think you ought. If my kind neighbours know of this visit as no doubt they will they will not turn it much to my advantage.
Let them turn it as they will, said I. What are their thoughts to you or me, so long as we are satisfied with ourselves and each other. Let them go to the deuce with their vile constructions and their lying inventions!
You have heard, then, what they say of me?
I heard some detestable falsehoods; but none but fools credit them, Helen, so don't let them trouble you.
I did not think Mr. Millward a fool, and he believes it all. However little you may esteem them as individuals, it is not pleasant to be a liar and a hypocrite.
True. So authorise me to clear your name from every. Give me the right to identify your honour with my own, and to defend your reputation as more precious than my life!
Are you hero enough to unite yourself to one whom everybody despises? Think! It is a serious thing.
I shall be proud to do it, Helen! And if that is the obstacle to our union, it is demolished, and you must be mine!
I seized her hand and wanted to press it to my lips, but she suddenly caught it away:
No, no, it is not all!
What is it, then? You promised to tell me.
You will know some time but not now my head aches terribly, she said, and I must have some repose.
But if you tell me, I persisted: it will ease your mind; and I shall then know how to comfort you.
She shook her head despondingly.
You will blame me perhaps even more than I deserve.
You, Helen? Impossible!
I did not know the strength and depth of your feelings.
She clasped her hands upon her knee, and calmly said,
Tomorrow, if you meet me on the moor about midday, I will tell you all.
I will; but answer me this one question first. Do you love me?
I will not answer it!
Then I will conclude you do; and so good-night.
She turned from me. I took her hand and fervently kissed it.
Gilbert, do leave me! she cried.
It was cruel to disobey. I left.
I went up to the garden wall, and stood there. Then I vaulted over the barrier, unable to resist the temptation: I wanted to see her one more time.
I looked. Her chair was vacant: so was the room. But at that moment someone opened the door, and a voice her voice! said,
Let's come out. I want to see the moon, and breathe the evening air.
I stood in the shadow of the tall bush, which was standing between the window and the porch. I saw two figures in the moonlight: Mrs. Graham and another, a young man, slender and rather tall. O heavens, how my temples throbbed! It was Mr. Lawrence!
I must leave this place, Frederick, she said, I never can be happy here, nor anywhere else, indeed.
But where can you find a better place? replied he, so secluded so near me, if you think anything of that.
Yes, interrupted she, it is all I wish, if they only leave me alone.
But wherever you go, Helen, there will be the same sources of annoyance. I cannot lose you:I must go with you, or come to you. There are fools elsewhere, as well as here.
They sauntered slowly past me, and I heard no more of their discourse. But he put his arm round her waist, while she lovingly rested her hand on his shoulder. Then a tremulous darkness obscured my sight, my heart sickened and my head burned like fire. I dashed myself on the ground and lay there in a paroxysm of anger and despair how long, I cannot say. Then I rose and journeyed homewards.
Oh, Gilbert! Where have you been? Do come in and take your supper, my mother said. But you look ill! Oh, gracious! What is the matter?
Nothing, nothing give me a candle.
But won't you take some supper?
No; I want to go to bed, said I.
Oh, Gilbert, how you tremble! exclaimed she. How white you look! Tell me what it is? Has anything happened?
It's nothing! cried I.
What a miserable night it was! I was deceived, duped, hopeless, my angel was not an angel!
Chapter XIII
My dear Gilbert, can you be a little more amiable? said my mother one morning. You say nothing has happened to grieve you, and yet I never saw anyone so altered as you within these last few days. You haven't a good word for anybody. You don't know how it spoils you.
I took up a book, and opened it on the table before me. My mischievous brother suddenly called out,
Don't touch him, mother! He'll bite! He's a tiger in human form. He nearly fractured my skull because I was singing a pretty, inoffensive love-song, on purpose to amuse him.
I told you to hold your noise, Fergus, said I.
I recollected that I had business with Robert Wilson. I was going to buy his field.
He was absent; and I stepped into the parlour and waited. Mrs. Wilson was busy in the kitchen, but the room was not empty. There sat Miss Wilson, she was chattering with Eliza Millward. However, I determined to be cool and civil. Eliza asked:
Have you seen Mrs. Graham lately?
Not lately, I replied.
What! Are you beginning to tire already?
I prefer not to speak of her now.
Ah! You have at length discovered that your divinity is not quite the immaculate
I desired you not to speak of her, Miss Eliza.
Oh, I beg your pardon! I perceive Cupid's arrows are too sharp for you:the wounds are not yet healed and bleed afresh.
Mr. Markham feels, interposed Miss Wilson, that this name is unworthy to be mentioned.
I rose and walked to the window. Mr. Wilson soon arrived. I quickly concluded the bargain. Then I gladly quitted the house.
I ascended the hill. Then I beheld Mrs. Graham and her son. They saw me; and Arthur already was running to meet me; but I immediately turned back and walked steadily homeward. I determined never to encounter his mother again.
This incident agitated and disturbed me. Cupid's arrows were not too sharp for me, but they were barbed and deeply rooted. I was not able to wrench them from my heart. So I was miserable for the remainder of the day.
Chapter XIV
Next morning I mounted my horse. It was a dull, drizzly day. As I trotted along, I heard another horse at no great distance behind me. It was Mr. Lawrence! He began to talk about the weather and the crops. I gave the briefest possible answers to his queries and observations. He asked if my horse was lame. I replied with a look, at which he placidly smiled.
Markham, said he, why do you quarrel with your friends? Your hopes are defeated; but how am I to blame for it? I warned you beforehand, you know, but you
I seized my whip by the small end, and brought the other down upon his head. He reeled a moment in his saddle, and then fell backward to the ground.
I left the fellow to his fate, and galloped away. Shortly, however, the effervescence began to abate, and I turned and went back. It was no generous impulse; it was, simply, the voice of conscience.
Mr. Lawrence and his pony both altered their positions in some degree. The pony wandered eight or ten yards further away; and he managed, somehow, to remove himself from the middle of the road. He was looking very white and sickly, and holding his cambric handkerchief (now more red than white) to his head.