A spot on my neck gives me a dreadful fright. If my hair comes out much when I comb it, it sets my heart beating; and it is a daily misery to me that my hands are larger than they should be, belonging to Edwards resplendent wife. I thank heaven that you and I always saw the necessity of being careful of our fingernails. My feet are of moderate size, though they are not French feet, as Edward says. No: I shall never dance. He sent me to the dancing-master in London, but it was too late. But I have been complimented on my walking, and that seems to please Edward. He does not dance (or mind dancing) himself, only he does not like me to miss one perfection. It is his love. Oh! if I have seemed to let you suppose he does not love me as ever, do not think it. He is most tender and true to me. Addio! I am signora, you are signorina.
They have such pretty manners to us over here. Edward says they think less of women: I say they think more. But I feel he must be right. Oh, my dear, cold, loving, innocent sister! put out your arms; I shall feel them round me, and kiss you, kiss you for ever!
Onward from city to city, like a radiation of light from the old farm-house, where so little of it was, Dahlia continued her journey; and then, without a warning, with only a word to say that she neared Rome, the letters ceased. A chord snapped in Rhodas bosom. While she was hearing from her sister almost weekly, her confidence was buoyed on a summer sea. In the silence it fell upon a dread. She had no answer in her mind for her fathers unspoken dissatisfaction, and she had to conceal her cruel anxiety. There was an interval of two months: a blank fell charged with apprehension that was like the humming of a toneless wind before storm; worse than the storm, for any human thing to bear.
Rhoda was unaware that Robert, who rarely looked at her, and never sought to speak a word to her when by chance they met and were alone, studied each change in her face, and read its signs. He was left to his own interpretation of them, but the signs he knew accurately. He knew that her pride had sunk, and that her heart was desolate. He believed that she had discovered her sisters misery.
One day a letter arrived that gave her no joyful colouring, though it sent colour to her cheeks. She opened it, evidently not knowing the handwriting; her eyes ran down the lines hurriedly. After a time she went upstairs for her bonnet.
At the stile leading into that lane where Robert had previously seen her, she was stopped by him.
No farther, was all that he said, and he was one who could have interdicted men from advancing.
Why may I not go by you? said Rhoda, with a womans affected humbleness.
Robert joined his hands. You go no farther, Miss Rhoda, unless you take me with you.
I shall not do that, Mr. Robert.
Then you had better return home.
Will you let me know what reasons you have for behaving in this manner to me?
Ill let you know by-and-by, said Robert. At present, Youll let the stronger of the two have his way.
He had always been so meek and gentle and inoffensive, that her contempt had enjoyed free play, and had never risen to anger; but violent anger now surged against him, and she cried, Do you dare to touch me? trying to force her passage by.
Robert caught her softly by the wrist. There stood at the same time a full-statured strength of will in his eyes, under which her own fainted.
Go back, he said; and she turned that he might not see her tears of irritation and shame. He was treating her as a child; but it was to herself alone that she could defend herself. She marvelled that when she thought of an outspoken complaint against him, her conscience gave her no support.
Is there no freedom for a woman at all in this world? Rhoda framed the bitter question.
Rhoda went back as she had come. Algernon Blancove did the same. Between them stood Robert, thinking, Now I have made that girl hate me for life.
It was in November that a letter, dated from London, reached the farm, quickening Rhodas blood anew. I am alive, said Dahlia; and she said little more, except that she was waiting to see her sister, and bade her urgently to travel up alone. Her father consented to her doing so. After a consultation with Robert, however, he determined to accompany her.
She cant object to see me too, said the farmer; and Rhoda answered No. But her face was bronze to Robert when they took their departure.
CHAPTER X
Old Anthony was expecting them in London. It was now winter, and the season for theatres; so, to show his brother-in-law the fun of a theatre was one part of his projected hospitality, if Mr. Fleming should haply take the hint that he must pay for himself.
Anthony had laid out money to welcome the farmer, and was shy and fidgety as a girl who anticipates the visit of a promising youth, over his fat goose for next days dinner, and his shrimps for this days tea, and his red slice of strong cheese, called of Cheshire by the reckless butter-man, for supper.
He knew that both Dahlia and Rhoda must have told the farmer that he was not high up in Boynes Bank, and it fretted him to think that the mysterious respect entertained for his wealth by the farmer, which delighted him with a novel emotion, might be dashed by what the farmer would behold.
During his last visit to the farm, Anthony had talked of the Funds more suggestively than usual. He had alluded to his own dealings in them, and to what he would do and would not do under certain contingencies; thus shadowing out, dimly luminous and immense, what he could do, if his sagacity prompted the adventure. The farmer had listened through the buzzing of his uncertain grief, only sighing for answer. If ever you come up to London, brother William John, said Anthony, you mind you go about arm-in-arm with me, or youll be judging by appearances, and says you, Lor, what a thousander fellow this is! and What a millioner fellow that is! Youll be giving your millions and your thousands to the wrong people, when they havent got a penny. All London ll be topsy-turvy to you, unless youve got a guide, and hell show you a shabby-coated, head-in-the-gutter old man ll buy up the lot. Everybody that doesnt know him sayslook at him! but they that knows himhats off, I can tell you. And talk about lords! We dont mind their coming into the city, but they know the scent of cash. Ive had a lord take off his hat to me. Its a fact, I have.
In spite of the caution Anthony had impressed upon his country relative, that he should not judge by appearances, he was nevertheless under an apprehension that the farmers opinion of him, and the luxurious, almost voluptuous, enjoyment he had of it, were in peril. When he had purchased the well-probed fat goose, the shrimps, and the cheese, he was only half-satisfied. His ideas shot boldly at a bottle of wine, and he employed a summer-lighted evening in going a round of wine-merchants placards, and looking out for the cheapest bottle he could buy. And he would have bought onehe had sealing-wax of his own and could have stamped it with the office-stamp of Boynes Bank for that matter, to make it as dignified and costly as the vaunted red seals and green seals of the placardshe would have bought one, had he not, by one of his lucky mental illuminations, recollected that it was within his power to procure an order to taste wine at the Docks, where you may get as much wine as you like out of big sixpenny glasses, and try cask after cask, walking down gas-lit paths between the huge bellies of wine which groan to be tapped and tried, that men may know them. The idea of paying two shillings and sixpence for one miserable bottle vanished at the richly-coloured prospect. Thatll show him something of what London is, thought Anthony; and a companion thought told him in addition that the farmer, with a skinful of wine, would emerge into the open air imagining no small things of the man who could gain admittance into those marvellous caverns. By George! its like a boys story-book, cried Anthony, in his soul, and he chuckled over the vision of the farmers amazementacted it with his arms extended, and his hat unseated, and plunged into wheezy fits of laughter.
He met his guests at the station. Mr. Fleming was soberly attired in what, to Anthonys London eye, was a curiosity costume; but the broad brim of the hat, the square cut of the brown coat, and the leggings, struck him as being very respectable, and worthy of a presentation at any Bank in London.
You stick to a leather purse, brother William John? he inquired, with an artistic sentiment for things in keeping.
I do, said the farmer, feeling seriously at the button over it.
All right; I shant ask ye to show it in the street, Anthony rejoined, and smote Rhodas hand as it hung.
Glad to see your old uncleare ye?
Rhoda replied quietly that she was, but had come with the principal object of seeing her sister.
There! cried Anthony, you never get a compliment out of this gal. She gives ye the nut, and youre to crack it, and there maybe, or there maynt be, a kernel insideshe dont care.
But there aint much in it! the farmer ejaculated, withdrawing his fingers from the button they had been teasing for security since Anthonys question about the purse.
Not mucheh! brother William John? Anthony threw up a puzzled look. Not much baggageI see that he exclaimed; and, Lord be thanked! no trunks. Aha, my dearhe turned to Rhodayou remember your lesson, do ye? Now, mark meIll remember you for it. Do you know, my dear, he said to Rhoda confidentially, that sixpennorth of chaff which I made the cabman pay forthere was the cream of it!that was better than Peruvian bark to my constitution. It was as good to me as a sniff of sea-breeze and no excursion expenses. Id like another, just to feel young again, when Id have backed myself to beatcabmen? Ah! Ive stood up, when I was a young un, and shut up a Cheap Jack at a fair. Circulations the soul o chaff. Thats why I dont mind tackling cabmenthey sit all day, and all theyve got to say is rat-tat, and theyve done. But I let the boys roar. I know what I was when a boy myself. Ive got devil in menever you fearbut its all on the side of the law. Now, lets off, for the gentlemen are starin at you, which wont hurt ye, ye know, but makes me jealous.
Before the party moved away from the platform, a sharp tussle took place between Anthony and the farmer as to the porterage of the bulky bag; but it being only half-earnest, the farmer did not put out his strength, and Anthony had his way.
I rather astonished you, brother William John, he said, when they were in the street.
The farmer admitted that he was stronger than he looked.
Dont you judge by appearances, thats all, Anthony remarked, setting down the bag to lay his finger on one side of his nose for impressiveness.
Now, there we leave London Bridge to the right, and we should away to the left, and quiet parts. He seized the bag anew. Just listen. Thats the roaring of cataracts of gold you hear, brother William John. Its a good notion, aint it? Hark!I got that notion from one of your penny papers. You can buy any amount for a penny, now-a-dayspoetry up in a corner, stories, tales o temptationone fellow cut his lucky with his masters cash, dashed away to Australia, made millions, fit to be a lord, and there he was! liable to the law! and everybody bowing their hats and their heads off to him, and his knees knocking at the sight of a policemana man of a red complexion, full habit of body, enjoyed his dinner and his wine, and on account of his turning white so often, they called himsealing-wax and Parchment was one name; Carrots and turnips was another; Blumonge and something, and so on. Fancy his having to pay half his income in pensions to chaps who could have had him out of his town or country mansion and popped into gaol in a jiffy. And found out at last! Them tales set you thinking. Once I was an idle young scaramouch. But you can buy every idea thats useful to you for a penny. I tried the halfpenny journals. Cheapness aint always profitable. The moral is, Make your money, and you may buy all the rest.
Discoursing thus by the way, and resisting the farmers occasional efforts to relieve him of the bag, with the observation that appearances were deceiving, and that he intended, please his Maker, to live and turn over a little more interest yet, Anthony brought them to Mrs. Wicklows house. Mrs. Wicklow promised to put them into the track of the omnibuses running toward Dahlias abode in the Southwest, and Mary Ann Wicklow, who had a burning desire in her bosom to behold even the outside shell of her friends new grandeur, undertook very disinterestedly to accompany them. Anthonys strict injunction held them due at a lamp-post outside Boynes Bank, at half-past three oclock in the afternoon.
My love to Dahly, he said. She was always a head and shoulders over my size. Tell her, when she rolls by in her carriage, not to mind me. I got my own notions of value. And if that Mr. Ayrton of hers ll bank at Boynes, Ill behave to him like a customer. This heres the girl for my money. He touched Rhodas arm, and so disappeared.
The farmer chided her for her cold manner to her uncle, murmuring aside to her: You heard what he said. Rhoda was frozen with her hearts expectation, and insensible to hints or reproof. The people who entered the omnibus seemed to her stale phantoms bearing a likeness to every one she had known, save to her beloved whom she was about to meet, after long separation.
She marvelled pityingly at the sort of madness which kept the streets so lively for no reasonable purpose. When she was on her feet again, she felt for the first time, that she was nearing the sister for whom she hungered, and the sensation beset her that she had landed in a foreign country. Mary Ann Wicklow chattered all the while to the general ear. It was her pride to be the discoverer of Dahlias terrace.
Not for worlds would she enter the house, she said, in a general tone; she knowing better than to present herself where downright entreaty did not invite her.
Rhoda left her to count the numbers along the terrace-walk, and stood out in the road that her heart might select Dahlias habitation from the other hueless residences. She fixed upon one, but she was wrong, and her heart sank. The fair Mary Ann fought her and beat her by means of a careful reckoning, as she remarked,
I keep my eyes open; Number 15 is the corner house, the bow-window, to a certainty.
Gardens were in front of the houses; or, to speak more correctly, strips of garden walks. A cab was drawn up close by the shrub-covered iron gate leading up to No. 15. Mary Ann hurried them on, declaring that they might be too late even now at a couple of dozen paces distant, seeing that London cabs, crawlers as they usually were, could, when required, and paid for it, do their business like lightning. Her observation was illustrated the moment after they had left her in the rear; for a gentleman suddenly sprang across the pavement, jumped into a cab, and was whirled away, with as much apparent magic to provincial eyes, as if a pantomimic trick had been performed. Rhoda pressed forward a step in advance of her father.
It may have been her husband, she thought, and trembled. The curtains up in the drawing-room were moved as by a hand; but where was Dahlias face? Dahlia knew that they were coming, and she was not on the look-out for them!a strange conflict of facts, over which Rhoda knitted her black brows, so that she looked menacing to the maid opening the door, whose Oh, if you please, Miss, came in contact with My sisterMrs., she expects me. I mean, Mrs. but no other name than Dahlia would fit itself to Rhodas mouth.