Cousin Phillis (13 page)

'Amiss with Phillis! I should like to know why you think anything is
wrong with her. She looks as blooming as any one can do.'

'Poor lad! you're but a big child after all; and you've likely never
heared of a fever-flush. But you know better nor that, my fine fellow!
so don't think for to put me off wi' blooms and blossoms and such-like
talk. What makes her walk about for hours and hours o' nights when she
used to be abed and asleep? I sleep next room to her, and hear her
plain as can be. What makes her come in panting and ready to drop into
that chair,'—nodding to one close to the door,—'and it's "Oh! Betty,
some water, please"? That's the way she comes in now, when she used to
come back as fresh and bright as she went out. If yon friend o' yours
has played her false, he's a deal for t' answer for; she's a lass who's
as sweet and as sound as a nut, and the very apple of her father's eye,
and of her mother's too' only wi' her she ranks second to th' minister.
You'll have to look after yon chap, for I, for one, will stand no wrong
to our Phillis.'

What was I to do, or to say? I wanted to justify Holdsworth, to keep
Phillis's secret, and to pacify the woman all in the same breath. I did
not take the best course, I'm afraid.

'I don't believe Holdsworth ever spoke a word of—of love to her in all
his life. I'm sure he didn't.'

'Ay. Ay! but there's eyes, and there's hands, as well as tongues; and a
man has two o' th' one and but one o' t'other.'

'And she's so young; do you suppose her parents would not have seen it?'

'Well! if you axe me that, I'll say out boldly, "No". They've called
her "the child" so long—"the child" is always their name for her when
they talk on her between themselves, as if never anybody else had a
ewe-lamb before them—that she's grown up to be a woman under their
very eyes, and they look on her still as if she were in her long
clothes. And you ne'er heard on a man falling in love wi' a babby in
long clothes!'

'No!' said I, half laughing. But she went on as grave as a judge.

'Ay! you see you'll laugh at the bare thought on it—and I'll be bound
th' minister, though he's not a laughing man, would ha' sniggled at th'
notion of falling in love wi' the child. Where's Holdsworth off to?'

'Canada,' said I, shortly.

'Canada here, Canada there,' she replied, testily. 'Tell me how far
he's off, instead of giving me your gibberish. Is he a two days'
journey away? or a three? or a week?'

'He's ever so far off—three weeks at the least,' cried I in despair.
'And he's either married, or just going to be. So there.' I expected a
fresh burst of anger. But no; the matter was too serious. Betty sate
down, and kept silence for a minute or two. She looked so miserable and
downcast, that I could not help going on, and taking her a little into
my confidence.

'It is quite true what I said. I know he never spoke a word to her. I
think he liked her, but it's all over now. The best thing we can
do—the best and kindest for her—and I know you love her, Betty—'

'I nursed her in my arms; I gave her little brother his last taste o'
earthly food,' said Betty, putting her apron up to her eyes.

'Well! don't let us show her we guess that she is grieving; she'll get
over it the sooner. Her father and mother don't even guess at it, and
we must make as if we didn't. It's too late now to do anything else.'

'I'll never let on; I know nought. I've known true love mysel', in my
day. But I wish he'd been farred before he ever came near this house,
with his "Please Betty" this, and "Please Betty" that, and drinking up
our new milk as if he'd been a cat. I hate such beguiling ways.'

I thought it was as well to let her exhaust herself in abusing the
absent Holdsworth; if it was shabby and treacherous in me, I came in
for my punishment directly.

'It's a caution to a man how he goes about beguiling. Some men do it as
easy and innocent as cooing doves. Don't you be none of 'em, my lad.
Not that you've got the gifts to do it, either; you're no great shakes
to look at, neither for figure, nor yet for face, and it would need be
a deaf adder to be taken in wi' your words, though there may be no
great harm in em. A lad of nineteen or twenty is not flattered by such
an out-spoken opinion even from the oldest and ugliest of her sex; and
I was only too glad to change the subject by my repeated injunctions to
keep Phillis's secret. The end of our conversation was this speech of
hers,—

'You great gaupus, for all you're called cousin o' th' minister—many a
one is cursed wi' fools for cousins—d'ye think I can't see sense
except through your spectacles? I give you leave to cut out my tongue,
and nail it up on th' barn-door for a caution to magpies, if I let out
on that poor wench, either to herself, or any one that is hers, as the
Bible says. Now you've heard me speak Scripture language, perhaps
you'll be content, and leave me my kitchen to myself.'

During all these days, from the 5th of July to the 17th, I must have
forgotten what Holdsworth had said about cards. And yet I think I could
not have quite forgotten; but, once having told Phillis about his
marriage, I must have looked upon the after consequence of cards as of
no importance. At any rate they came upon me as a surprise at last. The
penny-post reform, as people call it, had come into operation a short
time before; but the never-ending stream of notes and letters which
seem now to flow in upon most households had not yet begun its course;
at least in those remote parts. There was a post-office at Hornby; and
an old fellow, who stowed away the few letters in any or all his
pockets, as it best suited him, was the letter-carrier to Heathbridge
and the neighbourhood. I have often met him in the lanes thereabouts,
and asked him for letters. Sometimes I have come upon him, sitting on
the hedge-bank resting; and he has begged me to read him an address,
too illegible for his spectacled eyes to decipher. When I used to
inquire if he had anything for me, or for Holdsworth (he was not
particular to whom he gave up the letters, so that he got rid of them
somehow, and could set off homewards), he would say he thought that he
had, for such was his invariable safe form of answer; and would fumble
in breast-pockets, waistcoat-pockets, breeches-pockets, and, as a last
resource, in coat-tail pockets; and at length try to comfort me, if I
looked disappointed, by telling me, 'Hoo had missed this toime, but was
sure to write to-morrow;' 'Hoo' representing an imaginary sweetheart.

Sometimes I had seen the minister bring home a letter which he had
found lying for him at the little shop that was the post-office at
Heathbridge, or from the grander establishment at Hornby. Once or twice
Josiah, the carter, remembered that the old letter-carrier had trusted
him with an epistle to 'Measter', as they had met in the lanes. I think
it must have been about ten days after my arrival at the farm, and my
talk to Phillis cutting bread-and-butter at the kitchen dresser, before
the day on which the minister suddenly spoke at the dinner-table, and
said,—

'By-the-by, I've got a letter in my pocket. Reach me my coat here,
Phillis.' The weather was still sultry, and for coolness and ease the
minister was sitting in his shirt-sleeves. 'I went to Heathbridge about
the paper they had sent me, which spoils all the pens—and I called at
the post-office, and found a letter for me, unpaid,—and they did not
like to trust it to old Zekiel. Ay! here it is! Now we shall hear news
of Holdsworth,—I thought I'd keep it till we were all together.' My
heart seemed to stop beating, and I hung my head over my plate, not
daring to look up. What would come of it now? What was Phillis doing?
How was she looking? A moment of suspense,—and then he spoke again.
'Why! what's this? Here are two visiting tickets with his name on, no
writing at all. No! it's not his name on both. MRS Holdsworth! The
young man has gone and got married.' I lifted my head at these words; I
could not help looking just for one instant at Phillis. It seemed to me
as if she had been keeping watch over my face and ways. Her face was
brilliantly flushed; her eyes were dry and glittering; but she did not
speak; her lips were set together almost as if she was pinching them
tight to prevent words or sounds coming out. Cousin Holman's face
expressed surprise and interest.

'Well!' said she, 'who'd ha' thought it! He's made quick work of his
wooing and wedding. I'm sure I wish him happy. Let me see'—counting on
her fingers,—'October, November, December, January, February, March,
April, May, June, July,—at least we're at the 28th,—it is nearly ten
months after all, and reckon a month each way off—'

'Did you know of this news before?' said the minister, turning sharp
round on me, surprised, I suppose, at my silence,—hardly suspicious,
as yet.

'I knew—I had heard—something. It is to a French Canadian young
lady,' I went on, forcing myself to talk. 'Her name is Ventadour.'

'Lucille Ventadour!' said Phillis, in a sharp voice, out of tune.

'Then you knew too!' exclaimed the minister. We both spoke at once. I
said, 'I heard of the probability of—and told Phillis.' She said, 'He
is married to Lucille Ventadour, of French descent; one of a large
family near St. Meurice; am not I right?' I nodded 'Paul told me,—that
is all we know, is not it? Did you see the Howsons, father, in
Heathbridge?' and she forced herself to talk more than she had done for
several days, asking many questions, trying, as I could see, to keep
the conversation off the one raw surface, on which to touch was agony.
I had less self-command; but I followed her lead. I was not so much
absorbed in the conversation but what I could see that the minister was
puzzled and uneasy; though he seconded Phillis's efforts to prevent her
mother from recurring to the great piece of news, and uttering
continual exclamations of wonder and surprise. But with that one
exception we were all disturbed out of our natural equanimity, more or
less. Every day, every hour, I was reproaching myself more and more for
my blundering officiousness. If only I had held my foolish tongue for
that one half-hour; if only I had not been in such impatient haste to
do something to relieve pain! I could have knocked my stupid head
against the wall in my remorse. Yet all I could do now was to second
the brave girl in her efforts to conceal her disappointment and keep
her maidenly secret. But I thought that dinner would never, never come
to an end. I suffered for her, even more than for myself. Until now
everything which I had heard spoken in that happy household were simple
words of true meaning. If we bad aught to say, we said it; and if any
one preferred silence, nay if all did so, there would have been no
spasmodic, forced efforts to talk for the sake of talking, or to keep
off intrusive thoughts or suspicions.

At length we got up from our places, and prepared to disperse; but two
or three of us had lost our zest and interest in the daily labour. The
minister stood looking out of the window in silence, and when he roused
himself to go out to the fields where his labourers were working, it
was with a sigh; and he tried to avert his troubled face as he passed
us on his way to the door. When he had left us, I caught sight of
Phillis's face, as, thinking herself unobserved, her countenance
relaxed for a moment or two into sad, woeful weariness. She started
into briskness again when her mother spoke, and hurried away to do some
little errand at her bidding. When we two were alone, cousin Holman
recurred to Holdsworth's marriage. She was one of those people who like
to view an event from every side of probability, or even possibility;
and she had been cut short from indulging herself in this way during
dinner.

'To think of Mr Holdsworth's being married! I can't get over it, Paul.
Not but what he was a very nice young man! I don't like her name,
though; it sounds foreign. Say it again, my dear. I hope she'll know
how to take care of him, English fashion. He is not strong, and if she
does not see that his things are well aired, I should be afraid of the
old cough.'

'He always said he was stronger than he had ever been before, after
that fever.' 'He might think so, but I have my doubts. He was a very
pleasant young man, but he did not stand nursing very well. He got
tired of being coddled, as he called it. J hope they'll soon come back
to England, and then he'll have a chance for his health. I wonder now,
if she speaks English; but, to be sure, he can speak foreign tongues
like anything, as I've heard the minister say.' And so we went on for
some time, till she became drowsy over her knitting, on the sultry
summer afternoon; and I stole away for a walk, for I wanted some
solitude in which to think over things, and, alas! to blame myself with
poignant stabs of remorse.

I lounged lazily as soon as I got to the wood. Here and there the
bubbling, brawling brook circled round a great stone, or a root of an
old tree, and made a pool; otherwise it coursed brightly over the
gravel and stones. I stood by one of these for more than half an hour,
or, indeed, longer, throwing bits of wood or pebbles into the water,
and wondering what I could do to remedy the present state of things. Of
course all my meditation was of no use; and at length the distant sound
of the horn employed to tell the men far afield to leave off work,
warned me that it was six o'clock, and time for me to go home. Then I
caught wafts of the loud-voiced singing of the evening psalm. As I was
crossing the Ashfield, I saw the minister at some distance talking to a
man. I could not hear what they were saying, but I saw an impatient or
dissentient (I could not tell which) gesture on the part of the former,
who walked quickly away, and was apparently absorbed in his thoughts,
for though he passed within twenty yards of me, as both our paths
converged towards home, he took no notice of me. We passed the evening
in a way which was even worse than dinner-time. The minister was
silent, depressed, even irritable. Poor cousin Holman was utterly
perplexed by this unusual frame of mind and temper in her husband; she
was not well herself, and was suffering from the extreme and sultry
heat, which made her less talkative than usual. Phillis, usually so
reverently tender to her parents, so soft, so gentle, seemed now to
take no notice of the unusual state of things, but talked to me—to any
one, on indifferent subjects, regardless of her father's gravity, of
her mother's piteous looks of bewilderment. But once my eyes fell upon
her hands, concealed under the table, and I could see the passionate,
convulsive manner in which she laced and interlaced her fingers
perpetually, wringing them together from time to time, wringing till
the compressed flesh became perfectly white. What could I do? I talked
with her, as I saw she wished; her grey eyes had dark circles round
them and a strange kind of dark light in them; her cheeks were flushed,
but her lips were white and wan. I wondered that others did not read
these signs as clearly as I did. But perhaps they did; I think, from
what came afterwards, the minister did. Poor cousin Holman! she
worshipped her husband; and the outward signs of his uneasiness were
more patent to her simple heart than were her daughter's. After a while
she could bear it no longer. She got up, and, softly laying her hand on
his broad stooping shoulder, she said,—