|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 61
The news spread as if all the birds in the air carried it. There were a
dozen physicians in Seat-Sandal before noon. There was a crowd of
shepherds around it, waiting in silent groups for their verdict. All the
afternoon the gentlemen of the Dales were coming and going with offers
of help and sympathy; and in the lonely parlor the rector was softly
pacing up and down, muttering, as he walked, passages from the "Order
for the Visitation of the Sick":--
"O Saviour of the world, who by thy cross and precious blood hast
redeemed us, save us, and help us, we humbly beseech thee, O Lord.
"Spare us good Lord. Spare thy people whom thou hast redeemed with thy
most precious blood.
"Shut not up thy tender mercies in displeasure; but make him to hear of
joy and gladness.
"Deliver him from the fear of the enemy. Lift up the light of thy
countenance upon him. Amen."
CHAPTER IX.
ESAU.
"To be weak is miserable,
Doing or suffering."
"Now conscience wakes despair
That slumberd; wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be."
It was the middle of February before Harry could leave Sandal-Side. He
had remained there, however, only out of that deference to public
opinion which no one likes to offend; and it had been a most melancholy
and anxious delay. He was not allowed to enter the squire's room, and
indeed he shrank from the ordeal. His mother and Charlotte treated him
with a reserve he felt to be almost dislike. He had been so accustomed
to consider mother-love sufficient to cover all faults, that he forgot
there was a stronger tie; forgot that to the tender wife the husband of
her youth--her lover, friend, companion--is far nearer and dearer than
the tie that binds her to sons and daughters.
Also, he did not care to give any consideration to the fact, that both
his mother and Charlotte resented the kind of daughter and sister he had
forced upon them. So there was little sympathy with him at Seat-Sandal,
and he fancied that all the gentlemen of the neighborhood treated him
with a perceptible coolness of manner. Perhaps they did. There are
social intuitions, mysterious in their origin, and yet hitting
singularly near the truth. Before circumstances permitted him to leave
Sandal-Side, he had begun to hate the Seat and the neighborhood, and
every thing pertaining to it, with all his heart.
The only place of refuge he had found had been Up-Hill. The day after
the catastrophe he fought his way there, and with passionate tears and
complaints told Ducie the terrible story. Ducie had some memories of her
own wilful marriage, which made her tolerant with Harry. She had also
been accused of causing her mother's death; and though she knew herself
to be innocent, she had suffered by the accusation. She understood
Harry's trouble as few others could have done; and though a good deal
of his evident misery was on account of his separation from Beatrice,
Ducie did not suspect this, and really believed the young man to be
breaking his heart over the results of his rash communication.
He was agreeably surprised, also, to find that Stephen treated him with
a consideration he had never done when he was a dashing officer, with
all his own small world at his feet. For when any man was in trouble,
Steve Latrigg was sure to take that man's part. He did not ask too
particularly into the trouble. He had a way of saying to Ducie, "There
will be faults on both sides. If two stones knock against each other
until they strike fire, you may be sure both of them have been hard,
mother. Any way, Harry is in trouble, and there is none but us to stand
up for him."
But in spite of Steve's constant friendship, and Ducie's never-failing
sympathy, Harry had a bad six weeks. There were days during them when he
stood in the shadow of death, with almost the horror of a parricide in
his heart. Long, lonely days, empty of every thing but anxiety and
weariness. Long, stormy days, when he had not even the relief of a walk
to Up-Hill. Days in which strangers slighted him. Days in which his
mother and Charlotte could not even bear to see him. Days in which he
fancied the servants disliked and neglected him. He was almost happy one
afternoon when Stephen met him on the hillside, and said, "The squire is
much better. The doctors think he is in no immediate danger. You might
go to your wife, Harry, I should say."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|