Out in the Forty-Five Part 7

"Well, if I had a sister, I would not say things of that sort about her," said Ephraim, bluntly. "Hatty, you ought to be ashamed."

"Thank you, Mr Hebblethwaite, I don't feel so at all," answered laughing Hatty.

"And she really has no true polish--only a little outside varnish," said Cecilia. "If she were to be introduced at an a.s.sembly in Town, she would be set down directly as a little country girl who did not know anything. It is a pity she cannot see herself better."

"There are some woods that don't take polish nearly so well as others,"

said Ephraim, in a rather curious tone. I felt hurt; was he turning against me too?

"So there are," said Cecilia. "I see, Mr Hebblethwaite, you understand the matter."

"Pardon me, Miss...o...b..rne," was Ephraim's dry answer. "I am one of those that do not polish well. Compliments are wasted on me--particularly when the shaft is pointed with poison for my friends. And as to seeing one's self better--I wish, Madam, we could all do that."

As Ephraim walked away, which he did at once, I am sure he caught sight of me. His eyes gave a little flash, and the blood mounted in his cheek, but he kept on his way to the other end of the room, where f.a.n.n.y and Amelia sat talking together. I slipped out of the door as soon as I could.

That wicked, deceitful Cecilia! How many times had she told me that I was a sweet little creature--that my life at Carlisle had given me such a polish that I should not disgrace the Princess's drawing-room! [Note 3.] And now--! I went into my garret, and told my book about it, and if I must confess the truth, I am afraid I cried a little. But my eyes do not show tears, like f.a.n.n.y's, for ever so long after, and when I had bathed them and become a little calmer, I went down again into the parlour. I found my Aunt Kezia there now, and I was glad, for I knew that both Cecilia and Hatty would be on their best behaviour in her presence. Ephraim was talking with f.a.n.n.y, as he generally does, and there was that "hawid" creature Mr Parmenter, with his drawl and his eyegla.s.s and all the rest of it.

"Indeed, it is very trying!" he was saying, as I came in; but he never sounds an r, so that he said, "vewy twying." I don't know whether it is that he can't, or that he won't. "Very trying, truly, Madam, to see men give their lives for a falling cause. Distressing--quite so."

"I don't know that it hurts me to see a man give his life for a falling cause," saith my Aunt Kezia. "Sometimes, that is one of the grandest things a man can do. But to see a man give his life up for a false cause--a young man especially, full of hope and fervency, whose life might have been made a blessing to his friends and the world--that is trying, Mr Parmenter, if you like."

"Are we not bound to give our lives for the cause of truth and beauty?"

asked Amelia, in that low voice which sounds like an Aeolian harp.

"Truth--yes," saith my Aunt Kezia. "I do not know what you mean by beauty, and I am not sure you do. But, my dear, we do give our lives, always, for some cause. Unfortunately, it is very often a false one."

"What do you mean, Aunt?" said Amelia.

"Why, when you give your life to a cause, is it not the same thing in the end as giving it for one?" answered my Aunt Kezia. "I do not see that it matters, really, whether you give it in twenty minutes or through twenty years. The twenty years are the harder thing to do--that is all."

"Duncan Keith says--" Flora began, and stopped.

"Let us hear it, my dear, if it be anything good," quoth my Aunt Kezia.

"I cannot tell if you will think it good or not, Aunt," said Flora. "He says that very few give their lives to or for any cause. They nearly always give them for a person."

"Mr Keith must be a hero of chivalry," drawled Mr Parmenter, showing his white teeth in a lazy laugh.

(Why do people always simper when they have fine teeth?)

"Chivalry ought to be another name for Christian courage and charity,"

saith my Aunt Kezia. "Ay, child--Mr Keith is right. It is a pity it isn't always the right person."

"How are you to know you have found the right person, Aunt?" said Hatty, in her pert way.

My Aunt Kezia looked round at her in her awful fas.h.i.+on. Then she said, gravely, "You will find, Hatty, you have always got the wrong one, unless you aim at the Highest Person of all."

I heard Cecilia whisper to Mr Parmenter, "Oh, dear! is she going to preach a sermon?" and he hid a laugh under a yawn. Somebody else heard it too.

"Mrs Kezia's sermons are as short as some parsons' texts," said Ephraim, quietly, and not in a whisper.

"But you would not say," observed Mr Parmenter, without indicating to whom he addressed himself, "that this cause, now--ha--of which we were speaking,--that the lives, I mean--ha--were sacrificed to any particular person?"

"I never saw one plainer, if you mean me," said my Aunt Kezia, bluntly.

"What do nine-tenths of the men care about monarchy or commonwealth-- absolute kings or limited ones--Stuart or Hanoverian? They just care for Prince Charles, and his fine person and ringing voice, and his handsome dress: what else? And the women are worse than the men. Some men will give their lives for a cause, but you don't often see a woman do it. Mostly, with women, it is father or brother, lover or husband, that carries the day: at least, if you have seen women of another sort, they haven't come my way."

"But, Aunt, that is so ign.o.ble a way of acting!" cried Amelia, as though she wanted to show that she was one of the other sort. "Love and devotion to a holy or chivalrous cause should be free from all petty personal considerations."

"You can get yours free, my dear, if you like--and find you can manage it," said my Aunt Kezia. "I couldn't. As to ign.o.ble, that hangs much on the person. When Queen Margaret of Scotland was drowning in yonder border river, and the good knight rode into the water and held forth his hand to her, and said, 'Grip fast!' was that a petty, ign.o.ble consideration? It was a purely personal matter."

"Oh, of course, if you--" said Amelia, and did not go on.

"Things look very different, sometimes, according to the side on which you see them," saith my Aunt Kezia.

I could not help thinking that people did so.

Note 1. Emily was used during the last century as a diminutive for Amelia. There is really no etymological connection between the two names.

Note 2. In and about London, the name of jumbles is given to a common kind of gingerbread, to be obtained at the small sweet-shops: but these are not the old English jumball of the text.

Note 3. There was no Queen at this time. Augusta of Saxe Gotha was Princess of Wales, and the King had three grown-up unmarried daughters.

Note 4. This provincialism is correct for Lancas.h.i.+re, and as far as I know for c.u.mberland.

CHAPTER THREE.

THE HUNT-SUPPER.

"Alas! what haste they make to be undone!"

GEORGE HERBERT.

Before he went away, Ephraim came up into the window where I sat with my knitting. Mr Parmenter was gone then, and Cecilia was up-stairs with f.a.n.n.y and Amelia.

"Cary," said he, "may I ask you a question?"

"Why, Ephraim, I thought you did that every day," I said, feeling rather diverted at his saying such a thing.

"Ah, common questions that do not signify," said he, with a smile. "But this is not an insignificant question, Cary; and it is one that I have no right to ask unless you choose to give it me."

"Go on, Ephraim," said I, wondering what he meant.

"Are you very fond of Miss...o...b..rne?"

"I never was particularly fond of her," I said, rather hotly, and I felt my cheeks flush; "and if I had been, I think this morning would have put an end to it."