CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.
THE other day, in looking over my papers, I found in my desk thefollowing copy of a letter, sent by me a year since to an old schoolacquaintance:--
"DEAR CHARLES,
"I think when you and I were at Eton together, we were neither ofus what could be called popular characters: you were a sarcastic,observant, shrewd, cold-blooded creature; my own portrait I willnot attempt to draw, but I cannot recollect that it was a strikinglyattractive one--can you? What animal magnetism drew thee and me togetherI know not; certainly I never experienced anything of the Pylades andOrestes sentiment for you, and I have reason to believe that you, onyour part, were equally free from all romantic regard to me. Still,out of school hours we walked and talked continually together; when thetheme of conversation was our companions or our masters we understoodeach other, and when I recurred to some sentiment of affection, somevague love of an excellent or beautiful object, whether in animate orinanimate nature, your sardonic coldness did not move me. I felt myselfsuperior to that check THEN as I do NOW.
"It is a long time since I wrote to you, and a still longer time sinceI saw you. Chancing to take up a newspaper of your county the other day,my eye fell upon your name. I began to think of old times; to run overthe events which have transpired since we separated; and I sat downand commenced this letter. What you have been doing I know not; but youshall hear, if you choose to listen, how the world has wagged with me.
"First, after leaving Eton, I had an interview with my maternal uncles,Lord Tynedale and the Hon. John Seacombe. They asked me if I would enterthe Church, and my uncle the nobleman offered me the living of Seacombe,which is in his gift, if I would; then my other uncle, Mr. Seacombe,hinted that when I became rector of Seacombe-cum-Scaife, I might perhapsbe allowed to take, as mistress of my house and head of my parish, oneof my six cousins, his daughters, all of whom I greatly dislike.
"I declined both the Church and matrimony. A good clergyman is a goodthing, but I should have made a very bad one. As to the wife--oh howlike a night-mare is the thought of being bound for life to one ofmy cousins! No doubt they are accomplished and pretty; but not anaccomplishment, not a charm of theirs, touches a chord in my bosom.To think of passing the winter evenings by the parlour fire-side ofSeacombe Rectory alone with one of them--for instance, the large andwell-modelled statue, Sarah--no; I should be a bad husband, under suchcircumstances, as well as a bad clergyman.
"When I had declined my uncles' offers they asked me 'what I intendedto do?' I said I should reflect. They reminded me that I had no fortune,and no expectation of any, and, after a considerable pause, LordTynedale demanded sternly, 'Whether I had thoughts of following myfather's steps and engaging in trade?' Now, I had had no thoughts of thesort. I do not think that my turn of mind qualifies me to make a goodtradesman; my taste, my ambition does not lie in that way; but such wasthe scorn expressed in Lord Tynedale's countenance as he pronouncedthe word TRADE--such the contemptuous sarcasm of his tone--that I wasinstantly decided. My father was but a name to me, yet that name I didnot like to hear mentioned with a sneer to my very face. I answeredthen, with haste and warmth, 'I cannot do better than follow inmy father's steps; yes, I will be a tradesman.' My uncles did notremonstrate; they and I parted with mutual disgust. In reviewing thistransaction, I find that I was quite right to shake off the burden ofTynedale's patronage, but a fool to offer my shoulders instantly for thereception of another burden--one which might be more intolerable, andwhich certainly was yet untried.
"I wrote instantly to Edward--you know Edward--my only brother, tenyears my senior, married to a rich mill-owner's daughter, and nowpossessor of the mill and business which was my father's before hefailed. You are aware that my father--once reckoned a Croesus ofwealth--became bankrupt a short time previous to his death, and that mymother lived in destitution for some six months after him, unhelped byher aristocratical brothers, whom she had mortally offended by her unionwith Crimsworth, the----shire manufacturer. At the end of the six monthsshe brought me into the world, and then herself left it without, Ishould think, much regret, as it contained little hope or comfort forher.
"My father's relations took charge of Edward, as they did of me, till Iwas nine years old. At that period it chanced that the representation ofan important borough in our county fell vacant; Mr. Seacombe stood forit. My uncle Crimsworth, an astute mercantile man, took the opportunityof writing a fierce letter to the candidate, stating that if he and LordTynedale did not consent to do something towards the support of theirsister's orphan children, he would expose their relentless and malignantconduct towards that sister, and do his best to turn the circumstancesagainst Mr. Seacombe's election. That gentleman and Lord T. knew wellenough that the Crimsworths were an unscrupulous and determined race;they knew also that they had influence in the borough of X----; and,making a virtue of necessity, they consented to defray the expenses ofmy education. I was sent to Eton, where I remained ten years, duringwhich space of time Edward and I never met. He, when he grew up, enteredinto trade, and pursued his calling with such diligence, ability, andsuccess, that now, in his thirtieth year, he was fast making a fortune.Of this I was apprised by the occasional short letters I received fromhim, some three or four times a year; which said letters never concludedwithout some expression of determined enmity against the house ofSeacombe, and some reproach to me for living, as he said, on the bountyof that house. At first, while still in boyhood, I could not understandwhy, as I had no parents, I should not be indebted to my uncles Tynedaleand Seacombe for my education but as I grew up, and heard by degrees ofthe persevering hostility, the hatred till death evinced by them againstmy father--of the sufferings of my mother--of all the wrongs, in short,of our house--then did I conceive shame of the dependence in which Ilived, and form a resolution no more to take bread from hands which hadrefused to minister to the necessities of my dying mother. It was bythese feelings I was influenced when I refused the Rectory of Seacombe,and the union with one of my patrician cousins.
"An irreparable breach thus being effected between my uncles and myself,I wrote to Edward; told him what had occurred, and informed him of myintention to follow his steps and be a tradesman. I asked, moreover, ifhe could give me employment. His answer expressed no approbation of myconduct, but he said I might come down to ----shire, if I liked, and hewould 'see what could be done in the way of furnishing me with work.'I repressed all--even mental comment on his note--packed my trunk andcarpet-bag, and started for the North directly.
"After two days' travelling (railroads were not then in existence) Iarrived, one wet October afternoon, in the town of X----. I had alwaysunderstood that Edward lived in this town, but on inquiry I found thatit was only Mr. Crimsworth's mill and warehouse which were situated inthe smoky atmosphere of Bigben Close; his RESIDENCE lay four miles out,in the country.
"It was late in the evening when I alighted at the gates of thehabitation designated to me as my brother's. As I advanced up theavenue, I could see through the shades of twilight, and the dark gloomymists which deepened those shades, that the house was large, and thegrounds surrounding it sufficiently spacious. I paused a moment on thelawn in front, and leaning my back against a tall tree which rose in thecentre, I gazed with interest on the exterior of Crimsworth Hall.
"Edward is rich," thought I to myself. 'I believed him to be doingwell--but I did not know he was master of a mansion like this.' Cuttingshort all marvelling; speculation, conjecture, &c., I advanced to thefront door and rang. A man-servant opened it--I announced myself--herelieved me of my wet cloak and carpet-bag, and ushered me into aroom furnished as a library, where there was a bright fire and candlesburning on the table; he informed me that his master was not yetreturned from X----market, but that he would certainly be at home in thecourse of half an hour.
"Being left to myself, I took the stuffed easy chair, covered with redmorocco, which stood by the fireside, and while my eyes watched theflames dart from the glowing coals, and the cinders f
all at intervals onthe hearth, my mind busied itself in conjectures concerning the meetingabout to take place. Amidst much that was doubtful in the subject ofthese conjectures, there was one thing tolerably certain--I was in nodanger of encountering severe disappointment; from this, the moderationof my expectations guaranteed me. I anticipated no overflowings offraternal tenderness; Edward's letters had always been such as toprevent the engendering or harbouring of delusions of this sort. Still,as I sat awaiting his arrival, I felt eager--very eager--I cannot tellyou why; my hand, so utterly a stranger to the grasp of a kindred hand,clenched itself to repress the tremor with which impatience would fainhave shaken it.
"I thought of my uncles; and as I was engaged in wondering whetherEdward's indifference would equal the cold disdain I had alwaysexperienced from them, I heard the avenue gates open: wheels approachedthe house; Mr. Crimsworth was arrived; and after the lapse of someminutes, and a brief dialogue between himself and his servant in thehall, his tread drew near the library door--that tread alone announcedthe master of the house.
"I still retained some confused recollection of Edward as he was tenyears ago--a tall, wiry, raw youth; NOW, as I rose from my seat andturned towards the library door, I saw a fine-looking and powerful man,light-complexioned, well-made, and of athletic proportions; the firstglance made me aware of an air of promptitude and sharpness, shownas well in his movements as in his port, his eye, and the generalexpression of his face. He greeted me with brevity, and, in the momentof shaking hands, scanned me from head to foot; he took his seat in themorocco covered arm-chair, and motioned me to another seat.
"'I expected you would have called at the counting-house in the Close,'said he; and his voice, I noticed, had an abrupt accent, probablyhabitual to him; he spoke also with a guttural northern tone, whichsounded harsh in my ears, accustomed to the silvery utterance of theSouth.
"'The landlord of the inn, where the coach stopped, directed me here,'said I. 'I doubted at first the accuracy of his information, not beingaware that you had such a residence as this.'
"'Oh, it is all right!' he replied, 'only I was kept half an hour behindtime, waiting for you--that is all. I thought you must be coming by theeight o'clock coach.'
"I expressed regret that he had had to wait; he made no answer, butstirred the fire, as if to cover a movement of impatience; then hescanned me again.
"I felt an inward satisfaction that I had not, in the first moment ofmeeting, betrayed any warmth, any enthusiasm; that I had saluted thisman with a quiet and steady phlegm.
"'Have you quite broken with Tynedale and Seacombe?' he asked hastily.
"'I do not think I shall have any further communication with them; myrefusal of their proposals will, I fancy, operate as a barrier againstall future intercourse.'
"'Why,' said he, 'I may as well remind you at the very outset of ourconnection, that "no man can serve two masters." Acquaintance with LordTynedale will be incompatible with assistance from me.' There was a kindof gratuitous menace in his eye as he looked at me in finishing thisobservation.
"Feeling no disposition to reply to him, I contented myself with aninward speculation on the differences which exist in the constitutionof men's minds. I do not know what inference Mr. Crimsworth drew frommy silence--whether he considered it a symptom of contumacity or anevidence of my being cowed by his peremptory manner. After a long andhard stare at me, he rose sharply from his seat.
"'To-morrow,' said he, 'I shall call your attention to some otherpoints; but now it is supper time, and Mrs. Crimsworth is probablywaiting; will you come?'
"He strode from the room, and I followed. In crossing the hall, Iwondered what Mrs. Crimsworth might be. 'Is she,' thought I, 'as aliento what I like as Tynedale, Seacombe, the Misses Seacombe--as theaffectionate relative now striding before me? or is she better thanthese? Shall I, in conversing with her, feel free to show something ofmy real nature; or--' Further conjectures were arrested by my entranceinto the dining-room.
"A lamp, burning under a shade of ground-glass, showed a handsomeapartment, wainscoted with oak; supper was laid on the table; by thefire-place, standing as if waiting our entrance, appeared a lady;she was young, tall, and well shaped; her dress was handsome andfashionable: so much my first glance sufficed to ascertain. A gaysalutation passed between her and Mr. Crimsworth; she chid him, halfplayfully, half poutingly, for being late; her voice (I always takevoices into the account in judging of character) was lively--itindicated, I thought, good animal spirits. Mr. Crimsworth soon checkedher animated scolding with a kiss--a kiss that still told of thebridegroom (they had not yet been married a year); she took her seatat the supper-table in first-rate spirits. Perceiving me, she beggedmy pardon for not noticing me before, and then shook hands with me, asladies do when a flow of good-humour disposes them to be cheerful toall, even the most indifferent of their acquaintance. It was now furtherobvious to me that she had a good complexion, and features sufficientlymarked but agreeable; her hair was red--quite red. She and Edwardtalked much, always in a vein of playful contention she was vexed, orpretended to be vexed, that he had that day driven a vicious horse inthe gig, and he made light of her fears. Sometimes she appealed to me.
"'Now, Mr. William, isn't it absurd in Edward to talk so? He says hewill drive Jack, and no other horse, and the brute has thrown him twicealready.
"She spoke with a kind of lisp, not disagreeable, but childish. Isoon saw also that there was more than girlish--a somewhat infantineexpression in her by no means small features; this lisp and expressionwere, I have no doubt, a charm in Edward's eyes, and would be so tothose of most men, but they were not to mine. I sought her eye, desirousto read there the intelligence which I could not discern in her faceor hear in her conversation it was merry, rather small; by turns I sawvivacity, vanity, coquetry, look out through its irid, but I watched invain for a glimpse of soul. I am no Oriental; white necks, carmine lipsand cheeks, clusters of bright curls, do not suffice for me without thatPromethean spark which will live after the roses and lilies are faded,the burnished hair grown grey. In sunshine, in prosperity, the flowersare very well; but how many wet days are there in life--November seasonsof disaster, when a man's hearth and home would be cold indeed, withoutthe clear, cheering gleam of intellect.
"Having perused the fair page of Mrs. Crimsworth's face, a deep,involuntary sigh announced my disappointment; she took it as a homage toher beauty, and Edward, who was evidently proud of his rich and handsomeyoung wife, threw on me a glance--half ridicule, half ire.
"I turned from them both, and gazing wearily round the room, I saw twopictures set in the oak panelling--one on each side the mantel-piece.Ceasing to take part in the bantering conversation that flowed onbetween Mr. and Mrs. Crimsworth, I bent my thoughts to the examinationof these pictures. They were portraits--a lady and a gentleman, bothcostumed in the fashion of twenty years ago. The gentleman was in theshade. I could not see him well. The lady had the benefit of a full beamfrom the softly shaded lamp. I presently recognised her; I had seen thispicture before in childhood; it was my mother; that and the companionpicture being the only heir-looms saved out of the sale of my father'sproperty.
"The face, I remembered, had pleased me as a boy, but then I did notunderstand it; now I knew how rare that class of face is in the world,and I appreciated keenly its thoughtful, yet gentle expression. Theserious grey eye possessed for me a strong charm, as did certain linesin the features indicative of most true and tender feeling. I was sorryit was only a picture.
"I soon left Mr. and Mrs. Crimsworth to themselves; a servantconducted me to my bed-room; in closing my chamber-door, I shut out allintruders--you, Charles, as well as the rest.
"Good-bye for the present,
"WILLIAM CRIMSWORTH."
To this letter I never got an answer; before my old friend received it,he had accepted a Government appointment in one of the colonies, and wasalready on his way to the scene of his official labours. What has becomeof him since, I know not.
Th
e leisure time I have at command, and which I intended to employfor his private benefit, I shall now dedicate to that of the public atlarge. My narrative is not exciting, and above all, not marvellous;but it may interest some individuals, who, having toiled in the samevocation as myself, will find in my experience frequent reflectionsof their own. The above letter will serve as an introduction. I nowproceed.