Heriot's Choice Part 33

It was good to see the curl of Ethel's lips as she completely ignored Mildred's speech.

'I suppressed the mocking reverence and treated him to a prettily-worded apology instead, which had the effect of bringing him 'off the stilts,'

as a certain doctor calls it. I tell him sometimes, by way of excuse, that the teens are a stilted period in one's life.'

'Do you mean that you are younger than Richard?'

'I am three months his junior, as he takes care to remind me sometimes.

Did you ever see youth treading on the heels of bearded age as in Richard's case, poor fellow? I am really very sorry for him,' she continued, in a tone of such genuine feeling that Mildred liked her better than ever.

'I hope you told him so.'

'Yes, I was very good to him when I saw my sarcasms hurt. I gave him tea with my own fair hands, and was very plentiful in the matter of cream, which I know to be his weakness; and I made Minto pet him and La.s.sie jump up on his knee, and by and by my good temper was rewarded, and "Richard was himself again!"'

'Did he tell you he is going to Oxford after Christmas?'

'Yes; I am thankful to hear it. What is the good of his rusting here, when every one says he has such wonderful abilities? I hope you do not think me wrong, Mildred,' blus.h.i.+ng slightly, 'but I strongly advocated his reading for the Bar.'

Mildred sighed.

'There is no doubt he wishes it above all things; he quite warmed into eagerness as we discussed it. My father has always said that his clear logical head and undoubted talents would be invaluable as a barrister.

He has no want of earnestness, but he somehow lacks the persuasive eloquence that ought to be innate in the real priest; and yet when I said as much he shook his head, and relapsed into sadness again, said there was more than that, hinted at a rooted antipathy, then turned it off by owning that he disliked the notion of talking to old women about their souls; was sure he would be a cypher at a sickbed, good for nothing but scolding the people all round, and thought writing a couple of sermons a week the most wearisome work in the world--digging into one's brains for dry matter that must not be embellished even by a few harmless Latin and Greek quotations.'

Mildred looked grave. 'I fear he dislikes the whole thing.'

But Ethel interposed eagerly. 'You must not blame him if he be unfit by temperament. He had far better be a rising barrister than a half-hearted priest.'

'I would sooner see him anything than that--a navvy rather.'

'That is what I say,' continued Miss Trelawny, triumphant; 'and yet when I hinted as much he threw up his head with quite a Coeur-de-Lion look, and said, "Yes, I know, but you must not tempt me to break through my father's wishes. If it can be done without sacrilege----" And then he stopped, and asked if it were only the Westmorland old women were so trying. I do call it very wrong, Mildred, that any bias should have been put on his wishes in this respect, especially as in two more years Richard knows he will be independent of his father.' And as Mildred looked astonished at this piece of information, Ethel modestly returned that she had been intimate so many years at the vicarage--at least with the vicar and his wife and Richard--that many things came to her knowledge. Both she and her father knew that part of the mother's money had, with the vicar's consent, been settled on her boy, and Mildred, who knew that a considerable sum had a few years before been left to Betha by an eccentric uncle whom Mr. Lambert had inadvertently offended, and that he had willed it exclusively for the use of his niece and her children, was nevertheless surprised to hear that while a moderate portion had been reserved to her girls, Roy's share was only small, while Richard at one-and-twenty would be put in possession of more than three hundred a year.

'Between three and four, I believe Mr. Lambert told my father. Roy is to have a hundred a year, and the girls about two thousand apiece. Richard will have the lion's share. I believe this same uncle took a fancy to Roy's saucy face, and left a sum of money to be appropriated to his education. Richard says there will be plenty for a thorough art education and a year at Rome; he hinted too that if Roy failed of achieving even moderate success in his profession, there was sufficient for both. Anything rather than Roy should be crossed in his ambition! I call that generous, Mildred.'

'And I; but I am a little surprised at my brother making such a point of Richard being a clergyman; he is very reticent at times. Come, Ethel, you look mysterious. I suppose you can explain even this?'

'I can; but at least you are hardly such a stranger to your own nephews and nieces as not to be aware of the worldly consideration there is involved.'

'You forget,' returned Mildred, sadly, 'what a bad correspondent my brother is; Betha was better, but it was not often the busy house-mother could find leisure for long chatty letters. You are surely not speaking of what happened when Richard was fourteen?'

Ethel nodded and continued:

'That accounts of course for his being in such favour at the Palace.

They say the Bishop and Mrs. Douglas would do anything for him--that they treat him as though he were their own son; Rolf and he are to go to the same college--Magdalen, too, though Mr. Lambert wanted him to go to Queen's; they say, if anything happened to Mr. Lambert, that Richard would be sure of the living; in a worldly point of view it certainly sounds better than a briefless barrister.'

'Ethel, you must not say such things. I cannot allow that my brother would be influenced by such worldly considerations tempting as they are,' replied Mildred, indignantly.

But Ethel laid her hand softly on her arm.

'Dear Mildred, this is only one side of the question; that something far deeper is involved I know from Richard himself; I heard it years ago, when Cardie was younger, and had not learned to be proud and cold with his old playmate,' and Ethel's tone was a little sad.

'May I know?' asked Mildred, pleadingly; 'there is no fear of Richard ever telling me himself.'

Ethel hesitated slightly.

'He might not like it; but no, there can be no harm; you ought to know it, Mildred; until now it seemed so beautiful--Richard thought so himself.'

'You mean that Betha wished it as well as Arnold?'

'Ah! you have guessed it. What if the parents, in the fulness of their fresh young happiness, desired to dedicate their first-born to the priesthood, would not this better fit your conception of your brother's character, always so simple and unconventional?'

A gleam of pleasure pa.s.sed over Mildred's face, but it was mixed with pain. A fresh light seemed thrown on Richard's difficulty; she could understand the complication now. With Richard's deep love for his mother, would he not be tempted to regard her wishes as binding, all the more that it involved sacrifice on his part?

'It might be so, but Richard should not feel it obligatory to carry out his parents' wish if there be any moral hindrance,' she continued thoughtfully.

'That is what I tell him. I have reason to know that it was a favourite topic of conversation between the mother and son, and Mrs. Lambert often a.s.sured me, with tears in her eyes, that Richard was ardent to follow his father's profession. I remember on the eve of his confirmation that he told me himself that he felt he was training for the n.o.blest vocation that could fall to the lot of man. Until two years ago there was no hint of repugnance, not a whisper of dissent; no wonder all this is a blow to his father!'

'No, indeed!' a.s.sented Mildred.

'Can you guess what has altered him so?' continued Ethel, with a scrutinising glance. 'I have noticed a gradual change in him the last two or three years; he is more reserved, less candid in every way. I confess I have hardly understood him of late.'

'He has not recovered his mother's death,' returned Mildred, evasively; it was a relief to her that Ethel was in ignorance of the real cause of the change in Richard. She herself was the only person who held the full clue to the difficulty; Richard's reserve had baffled his father. Mr.

Lambert had no conception of the generous scruples that had hindered his son's confidence, and prevented him from availing himself of his tempting offer; and as she thought of the Coeur-de-Lion look with which he had repelled Ethel's glowing description, a pa.s.sionate pity woke in her heart, and for the moment she forgave the chafed bitter temper, in honest consideration for the n.o.ble struggle that preceded it.

'What were you telling me about Richard and young Douglas?' she asked, after a minute's pause, during which Ethel, disappointed by her unexpected reserve, had relapsed into silence. 'Betha was ill at the time, or I should have had a more glowing description than Arnold's brief paragraph afforded me. I know Richard jumped into the mill-stream and pulled one of the young Douglases out; but I never heard the particulars.'

'You astonish me by your cool manner of talking about it. It was an act of pure heroism not to be expected in a boy of fourteen; all the county rang with it for weeks afterwards. He and Rolf were playing down by the mill, at Dalston, a few miles from the Palace, and somehow Rolf slipped over the low parapet: you know the mill-stream: it has a dangerous eddy, and there is a dark deep pool that makes you shudder to look at: the miller's man heard Richard's shout of distress, but he was at the topmost story, and long before he could have got to the place the lad must have been swept under the wheel. Richard knew this, and the gallant little fellow threw off his jacket and jumped in. Rolf could not swim, but Richard struck out with all his might and caught him by his sleeve just as the eddy was sucking him in. Richard was strong even then, and he would have managed to tow him into shallow water but for Rolf's agonised struggles; as it was, he only just managed to keep his head above water, and prevent them both from sinking until help came.

Braithwaite had not thrown the rope a moment too soon, for, as he told the Bishop afterwards, both the boys were drifting helplessly towards the eddy. Richard's strength was exhausted by Rolf's despairing clutches, but he had drawn Rolf's head on his breast and was still holding him up; he fainted as they were hauled up the bank, and as it was, his heroism cost him a long illness. I have called him Coeur-de-Lion ever since.'

'n.o.ble boy!' returned Mildred, with sparkling eyes; but they were dim too.

'There, I hear the horses! how quickly time always pa.s.ses in your company, Mildred. Good-bye; I must not give papa time to get one foot out of the stirrup, or he will tell me I have kept him waiting;' and leaving Mildred to follow her more leisurely, Ethel gathered up her long habit and quickly disappeared.

Later that evening as Dr. Heriot pa.s.sed through the dusky courtyard, he found Mildred waiting in the porch.

'How late you are; I almost feared you were not coming to-night,' she said anxiously, in answer to his cheery 'good evening.'

'Am I to flatter myself that you were watching for me then?' he returned, veiling a little surprise under his usual light manner. 'How are all the tempers, Miss Lambert? I hope I am not required to call spirits blue and gray from the vasty deep, as I am not sure that I feel particularly sportive to-night.'

'I wanted to speak to you about Olive,' returned Mildred, quietly ignoring the banter. 'She does not seem well. The headache was fully accounted for yesterday, but I do not like the look of her to-night. I felt her pulse just now, and it was quick, weak, and irregular, and she was complaining of giddiness and a ringing in her ears.'

'I have noticed she has not looked right for some days, especially on St. Peter's day. Do you wish me to see her?' he continued, with a touch of professional gravity.

'I should be much obliged if you would,' she returned, gratefully; 'she is in my room at present, as Chriss's noise disturbs her. Your visit will put her out a little, as any questioning about her health seems to make her irritable.'

'She will not object to an old friend; anyhow, we must brave her displeasure. Will you lead the way, Miss Lambert?'

They found Olive sitting huddled up in her old position, and looking wan and feverish. She shaded her eyes a little fretfully from the candle Mildred carried, and looked at Dr. Heriot rather strangely and with some displeasure.

'How do you feel to-night, Olive?' he asked kindly, possessing himself with some difficulty of the dry languid hand, and scrutinising with anxiety the sunken countenance before him. Two days of agitation and suppressed illness had quite altered the girl's appearance.