Propose that to Albinia.
She did want the boy to go somewhere. I should not care where, so it were out of her way. What creatures they must be for her to have produced no more effect on them!
Poor Albinia! I am afraid it is a hard task: but these are still early days, and we see things at a disadvantage. We shall be able to judge whether there be really too great a strain on her spirits, and if so, I would talk to Kendal.
And I wonder what is to come of that. It seems to me like what John Smith calls singing psalms to a dead horse.
John Smith! I am glad you mentioned him; I shall desire Dusautoy to bring him here on Monday.
What! as poor Albinia would say, you cant exist a week without John Smith.
Even so. I want him to lay out a plan for draining the garden. That pond is intolerable. I suspect that all, yourself included, will become far more good-tempered in consequence.
A capital measure, but do you mean that Edmund Kendal is going to let you and John Smith drain his pond under his very nose, and never find it out? I did not imagine him quite come to that.
Not quite, said Maurice; it is with his free consent, and I believe he will be very glad to have it done without any trouble to himself. He said that Albinia thought it damp, and when I put a few sanatory facts before him, thanked me heartily, and seemed quite relieved. If they had only been in Sanscrit, they would have made the greater impression.
One comfort is, Maurice, that however provoking you are at first, you generally prove yourself reasonable at last, I am glad you are not Mr. Kendal.
Ah! it will have a fine effect on you to spend your Christmas-day tete-a-tete with him.
Mrs. Ferrarss views underwent various modifications, like all hasty yet candid judgments. She took Mr. Kendal into favour when she found him placidly submitting to Miss Meadowss showers of words, in order to prevent her gaining access to his wife.
Maria Meadows is a very well-meaning person, he said afterwards; but I know of no worse infliction in a sick-room.
I wonder, thought Winifred, whether he married to get rid of her. I should have thought it justifiable had it been any one but Albinia!
The call on Mrs. Dusautoy was consoling. It was delightful to find how Albinia was loved and valued at the vicarage. Mrs. Dusautoy began by sending her as a message, Johns first exclamation on hearing of the event. Then she will never be of any more use. In fact, she said, it was much to him like having a curate disabled, and she believed he could only be consoled by the hopes of a pattern christening, and of a nursery for his school-girls; but there Winifred shook her head, Fairmead had a prior claim, and Albinia had long had her eye upon a scholar of her own.
I told John that she would! and he must bear it as he can, laughed Mrs. Dusautoy; and she went on more seriously to say that her gratitude was beyond expression, not merely for the actual help, though that was much, but for the sympathy, the first encouragement they had met among their richer parishioners, and she spoke of the refreshment of the mirthfulness and playful manner, so as to convince Winifred that they had neither died away nor been everywhere wasted.
Winifred had no amenable patient. Weak and depressed as Albinia was, her restlessness and air of anxiety could not be appeased. There was a look of being constantly on the watch, and once, when her door was ajar, before Winifred was aware she exerted her voice to call Gilbert!
Pushing the door just wide enough to enter, and treading almost noiselessly, he came forward, looking from side to side as with a sense of guilt. She stretched out her hand and smiled, and he obeyed the movement that asked him to bend and kiss her, but still durst not speak.
Let me have the baby, she said.
Mrs. Ferrars laid it beside her, and held aloof. Gilberts eyes were fixed intently on it.
Yes, Gilbert, Albinia said, I know what you will feel for him. He cant be what you once hadbut oh, Gilbert, you will do all that an elder brother can to make him like Edmund!
Gilbert wrung her fingers, and ventured to stoop down to kiss the little red forehead. The tears were running down his cheeks, and he could not speak.
If your father might only say the same of him! that he never grieved him! said Albinia; but oh, Gilbertexample, and then, pausing and gazing searchingly in his face, You have not told papa.
No, whispered Gilbert.
Winifred, said Albinia, would you be so kind as to ask papa to come?
Winifred was forced to obey, though feeling much to blame as Mr. Kendal rose with a sigh of uneasiness. Gilbert still stood with his hand clasped in Albinias, and she held it while her weak voice made the full confession for him, and assured his father of his shame and sorrow. There needed no such assurance, his whole demeanour had been sorrow all these dreary days, and Mr. Kendal could not but forgive, though his eye spoke deep grief.
I could not refuse pardon thus asked, he said. Oh, Gilbert, that I could hope this were the beginning of a new course!
Albinia looked from Gilbert to his little brother, and back again to Gilbert.
It shall be, she said, and Gilberts resolution was perhaps the more sincere that he spoke no word.
Poor boy, said Albinia, half to herself and half aloud, I think I feel more strong to love and to help him!
That interview was a dangerous experiment, and she suffered for it. As her brother said, instead of having too little life, she had too much, and could not let herself rest; she had never cultivated the art of being still, and when she was weak, she could not be calm.
Still the strength of her constitution staved off the nervous fever of her spirits, and though she was not at all a comfortable patient, she made a certain degree of progress, so that though it was not easy to call her better, she was not quite so ill, and grew less irrational in her solicitude, and more open to other ideas. Do you know, Winifred, she said one day, I have been thinking myself at Fairmead till I almost believed I heard John Smiths voice under the window.
Winifred was obliged to look out at the window to hide her smile. Maurice, who was standing on the lawn with the very John Smith, beckoned to her, and she went down to hear his plans. He was wanted at home the next day, and asked whether she thought he had better take Gilbert with him. It is the wisest thing that has been said yet! exclaimed she. Now I shall have a chance for Albinia! and accordingly, Mr. Kendal having given a gracious and grateful consent, Albinia was informed; but Winifred thought her almost perverse when a perturbed look came over her, and she said, It is very kind in Maurice, but I must speak to him.
He was struck by the worn, restless expression of her features, so unlike the calm contented repose of a young mother, and when she spoke to him, her first word was of Gilbert. Maurice, it is so kind, I know you will make him happybut oh! take carehe is so delicateindeed, he isdont let him get wet through.
Maurice promised, but Albinia resumed with minutiae of directions, ending with, Oh! if he should get hurt or into any mischief, what should we do? Pray, take care, Maurice, you are not used to such delicate boys.
My dear, I think you may rely on me.
Yes, but you will not be too strict with him and more was following, when her brother said, I promise you to make him my special charge. I like the boy very much. I think you may be reasonable, and trust him with me, without so much agitation. You have not let me see my own nephew yet.
My dear, I think you may rely on me.
Yes, but you will not be too strict with him and more was following, when her brother said, I promise you to make him my special charge. I like the boy very much. I think you may be reasonable, and trust him with me, without so much agitation. You have not let me see my own nephew yet.
Albinia looked with her wistful piteous face at her brother as he took in his arms her noble-looking fair infant.
You are a great fellow indeed, sir, said his uncle. Now if I were your mamma, I would be proud of you, rather than
I am afraid! said Albinia, in a sudden low whisper.
He looked at her anxiously.
Let me have him, she said; then as Maurice bent over her, and she hastily gathered the babe into her arms, she whispered in quick, low, faint accents, Do you know how many children have been born in this house?
Mr. Ferrars understood her, he too had seen the catalogue in the church, and guessed that the phantoms of her boys dead brethren dwelt on her imagination, forbidding her to rejoice in him hopefully. He tried to say something encouraging of the childs appearance, but she would not let him go on. I know, she said, he is so nowbut then catching her breath again and speaking very low, his father does not dare look at himI see that he is sorry for meOh, Maurice, it will come, and I shall be able to do nothing!
Maurice felt his lip quivering as his sisters voice became chokedthe sister to whom he had once been the whole world, and who still could pour out her inmost heart more freely to him than to any other. But it was a time for grave authority, and though he spoke gently, it was almost sternly.
Albinia, this is not right. It is not thankful or trustful. No, do not cry, but listen to me. Your child is as likely to do well as any child in the world, but nothing is so likely to do him harm as your want of composure.
I tell myself so, said Albinia, but there is no helping it.
Yes, there is. Make it your duty to keep yourself still, and not be troubled about what may or may not happen, but be glad of the present pleasure.
Dont you think I am? said Albinia, half smiling; so glad, that I grow frightened at myself, and As if fain to leave the subject, she added, And it is what you dont understand, Maurice, but he cant be the first to Edmund as he is to meneverand when I get almost jealous for him, I think of Gilbert and the girlsand oh! there is so much to do for themthey want a mother so muchand Winifred wont let me see them, or tell me about them!
She had grown piteous and incoherent, and a glance from Winifred told him, this is always the way.
My dear, he said, you will never be fit to attend to them if you do not use this present time rightly. You may hurt your health, and still more certainly, you will go to work fretfully and impetuously. If you have a busy life, the more reason to learn to be tranquil. Calm is forced on you now, and if you give way to useless nervous brooding over the work you are obliged to lay aside for a time, you have no right to hope that you will either have judgment or temper for your tasks.
But how am I to keep from thinking, Maurice? The weaker I am, the more I think.
Are you dutiful as to what Winifred there thinks wisest? Ah! Albinia, you want to learn, as poor Queen Anne of Austria did, that docility in illness may be self-resignation into higher Hands. Perhaps you despise it, but it is no mean exercise of strength and resolution to be still.
Albinia looked at him as if receiving a new idea.
And, he added, bending nearer her face, and speaking lower, when you pray, let them be hearty faithful prayers that Gods hand may be over your childyour children, not half-hearted faithless ones, that He may work out your will in them.
Oh, Maurice, how did you know? But you are not going? I have so much to talk over with you.
Yes, I must go; and you must be still. Indeed I will watch over Gilbert as though he were mine. Yes, even more. Dont speak again, Albinia, I desire you will not. Good-bye.
That lecture had been the most wholesome treatment she had yet received; she ceased to give way without effort to restless thoughts and cares, and was much less refractory.
When at last Lucy and Sophia were admitted, Winifred found perils that she had not anticipated. Lucy was indeed supremely and girlishly happy: but it was Sophy whose eye Albinia sought with anxiety, and that eye was averted. Her cheek was cold like that of a doll when Albinia touched it eagerly with her lips; and when Lucy admonished her to kiss the dear little brother, she fairly turned and ran out of the room.
Poor Sophy! said Lucy. Never mind her, mamma, but she is odder than ever, since baby has been born. When Eweretta came up and told us, she hid her face and cried; and when grandmamma wanted to make us promise to love him with all our hearts, and not make any difference, she would only say, I wont!
We will leave him to take care of that, Lucy, said Albinia. But though she spoke cheerfully, Winifred was not surprised, after a little interval, to hear sounds like stifled weeping.
Almost every home subject was so dangerous, that whenever Mrs. Ferrars wanted to make cheerful, innocent conversation, she began to talk of her visit to Ireland and the beautiful Galway coast, and the OMores of Ballymakilty, till Albinia grew quite sick of the names of the whole clan of thirty-six cousins, and thought, with her aunts, that Winifred was too Irish. Yet, at any other time, the histories would have made her sometimes laugh, and sometimes cry, but the world was sadly out of joint with her.
There was a sudden change when, for the first time her eye rested on the lawn, and she beheld the work of drainage. The light glanced in her eye, the colour rose on her cheek, and she exclaimed, How kind of Edmund!
Winifred must needs give her husband his share. Ah! you would never have had it done without Maurice.
Yes, said Albinia, Edmund has been out of the way of such things, but he consented, you know. Then as her eyes grew liquid, A duck pond is a funny subject for sentiment, but oh! if you knew what that place has been to my imagination from the first, and how the wreaths of mist have wound themselves into spectres in my dreams, and stretched out white shrouds now for one, now for the other! and she shuddered.
And you have gone through all this and never spoken. No wonder your nerves and spirits were tried.
I did speak at first, said Albinia; but I thought Edmund did not hear, or thought it nonsense, and so did I at times. But you see he did attend; he always does, you see, at the right time. It was only my impatience.
I suspect Maurice and John Smith had more to do with it, said Winifred.
Well, we wont quarrel about that, said Albinia. I only know that whoever brought it about has taken the heaviest weight off my mind that has been there yet.
In truth, the terror, half real, half imaginary, had been a sorer burthen than all the positive cares for those unruly children, or their silent, melancholy father; and the relief told in all waysabove all, in the peace with which she began to regard her child. Still she would provoke Winifred by bestowing all her gratitude on Mr. Kendal, who began to be persuaded that he had made an heroic exertion.
Winifred had been somewhat scandalized by discovering Albinias deficiencies in the furniture development. She was too active and stirring, and too fond of out-of-door occupation, to regard interior decoration as one of the domestic graces, her nest was rather that of the ostrich than the chaffinch, as Winifred told her on the discovery that her morning-room had been used for no other purpose than as a deposit for all the books, wedding presents, lumber, etc., which she had never had leisure to arrange.