CHAPTER V
My hand dropped from the curtain. But don't suppose--oh, don'tsuppose--that the dreadful embarrassment of my situation was theuppermost idea in my mind! So fervent still was the sisterly interest Ifelt in Mr. Godfrey, that I never stopped to ask myself why he wasnot at the concert. No! I thought only of the words--the startlingwords--which had just fallen from his lips. He would do it to-day. Hehad said, in a tone of terrible resolution, he would do it to-day. What,oh what, would he do? Something even more deplorably unworthy of himthan what he had done already? Would he apostatise from the faith? Wouldhe abandon us at the Mothers'-Small-Clothes? Had we seen the last ofhis angelic smile in the committee-room? Had we heard the last of hisunrivalled eloquence at Exeter Hall? I was so wrought up by the bareidea of such awful eventualities as these in connection with such a man,that I believe I should have rushed from my place of concealment, andimplored him in the name of all the Ladies' Committees in London toexplain himself--when I suddenly heard another voice in the room.It penetrated through the curtains; it was loud, it was bold, it waswanting in every female charm. The voice of Rachel Verinder.
"Why have you come up here, Godfrey?" she asked. "Why didn't you go intothe library?"
He laughed softly, and answered, "Miss Clack is in the library."
"Clack in the library!" She instantly seated herself on the ottoman inthe back drawing-room. "You are quite right, Godfrey. We had much betterstop here."
I had been in a burning fever, a moment since, and in some doubt whatto do next. I became extremely cold now, and felt no doubt whatever. Toshow myself, after what I had heard, was impossible. To retreat--exceptinto the fireplace--was equally out of the question. A martyrdom wasbefore me. In justice to myself, I noiselessly arranged the curtains sothat I could both see and hear. And then I met my martyrdom, with thespirit of a primitive Christian.
"Don't sit on the ottoman," the young lady proceeded. "Bring a chair,Godfrey. I like people to be opposite to me when I talk to them."
He took the nearest seat. It was a low chair. He was very tall, andmany sizes too large for it. I never saw his legs to such disadvantagebefore.
"Well?" she went on. "What did you say to them?"
"Just what you said, dear Rachel, to me."
"That mamma was not at all well to-day? And that I didn't quite likeleaving her to go to the concert?"
"Those were the words. They were grieved to lose you at the concert, butthey quite understood. All sent their love; and all expressed a cheeringbelief that Lady Verinder's indisposition would soon pass away."
"YOU don't think it's serious, do you, Godfrey?"
"Far from it! In a few days, I feel quite sure, all will be well again."
"I think so, too. I was a little frightened at first, but I think sotoo. It was very kind to go and make my excuses for me to people who arealmost strangers to you. But why not have gone with them to the concert?It seems very hard that you should miss the music too."
"Don't say that, Rachel! If you only knew how much happier I am--here,with you!"
He clasped his hands, and looked at her. In the position which heoccupied, when he did that, he turned my way. Can words describe howI sickened when I noticed exactly the same pathetic expression on hisface, which had charmed me when he was pleading for destitute millionsof his fellow-creatures on the platform at Exeter Hall!
"It's hard to get over one's bad habits, Godfrey. But do try to get overthe habit of paying compliments--do, to please me."
"I never paid you a compliment, Rachel, in my life. Successful lovemay sometimes use the language of flattery, I admit. But hopeless love,dearest, always speaks the truth."
He drew his chair close, and took her hand, when he said "hopelesslove." There was a momentary silence. He, who thrilled everybody, haddoubtless thrilled HER. I thought I now understood the words which haddropped from him when he was alone in the drawing-room, "I'll do itto-day." Alas! the most rigid propriety could hardly have failed todiscover that he was doing it now.
"Have you forgotten what we agreed on, Godfrey, when you spoke to me inthe country? We agreed that we were to be cousins, and nothing more."
"I break the agreement, Rachel, every time I see you."
"Then don't see me."
"Quite useless! I break the agreement every time I think of you. Oh,Rachel! how kindly you told me, only the other day, that my place inyour estimation was a higher place than it had ever been yet! Am I madto build the hopes I do on those dear words? Am I mad to dream of somefuture day when your heart may soften to me? Don't tell me so, if Iam! Leave me my delusion, dearest! I must have THAT to cherish, and tocomfort me, if I have nothing else!"
His voice trembled, and he put his white handkerchief to his eyes.Exeter Hall again! Nothing wanting to complete the parallel but theaudience, the cheers, and the glass of water.
Even her obdurate nature was touched. I saw her lean a little nearer tohim. I heard a new tone of interest in her next words.
"Are you really sure, Godfrey, that you are so fond of me as that?"
"Sure! You know what I was, Rachel. Let me tell you what I am. I havelost every interest in life, but my interest in you. A transformationhas come over me which I can't account for, myself. Would you believeit? My charitable business is an unendurable nuisance to me; and when Isee a Ladies' Committee now, I wish myself at the uttermost ends of theearth!"
If the annals of apostasy offer anything comparable to such adeclaration as that, I can only say that the case in point isnot producible from the stores of my reading. I thought of theMothers'-Small-Clothes. I thought of the Sunday-Sweetheart-Supervision.I thought of the other Societies, too numerous to mention, all builtup on this man as on a tower of strength. I thought of the strugglingFemale Boards, who, so to speak, drew the breath of their business-lifethrough the nostrils of Mr. Godfrey--of that same Mr. Godfrey who hadjust reviled our good work as a "nuisance"--and just declared that hewished he was at the uttermost ends of the earth when he found himselfin our company! My young female friends will feel encouraged topersevere, when I mention that it tried even My discipline before Icould devour my own righteous indignation in silence. At the same time,it is only justice to myself to add, that I didn't lose a syllable ofthe conversation. Rachel was the next to speak.
"You have made your confession," she said. "I wonder whether it wouldcure you of your unhappy attachment to me, if I made mine?"
He started. I confess I started too. He thought, and I thought, that shewas about to divulge the mystery of the Moonstone.
"Would you think, to look at me," she went on, "that I am thewretchedest girl living? It's true, Godfrey. What greater wretchednesscan there be than to live degraded in your own estimation? That is mylife now."
"My dear Rachel! it's impossible you can have any reason to speak ofyourself in that way!"
"How do you know I have no reason?"
"Can you ask me the question! I know it, because I know you. Yoursilence, dearest, has never lowered you in the estimation of your truefriends. The disappearance of your precious birthday gift may seemstrange; your unexplained connection with that event may seem strangerstill."
"Are you speaking of the Moonstone, Godfrey----"
"I certainly thought that you referred----"
"I referred to nothing of the sort. I can hear of the loss of theMoonstone, let who will speak of it, without feeling degraded in my ownestimation. If the story of the Diamond ever comes to light, it will beknown that I accepted a dreadful responsibility; it will be known that Iinvolved myself in the keeping of a miserable secret--but it will beas clear as the sun at noon-day that I did nothing mean! You havemisunderstood me, Godfrey. It's my fault for not speaking more plainly.Cost me what it may, I will be plainer now. Suppose you were not in lovewith me? Suppose you were in love with some other woman?"
"Yes?"
"Suppose you discovered that woman to be utterly unworthy of you?Suppose you were quite convinced that it was a disgrace to you to was
teanother thought on her? Suppose the bare idea of ever marrying such aperson made your face burn, only with thinking of it."
"Yes?"
"And, suppose, in spite of all that--you couldn't tear her from yourheart? Suppose the feeling she had roused in you (in the time when youbelieved in her) was not a feeling to be hidden? Suppose the love thiswretch had inspired in you? Oh, how can I find words to say it in! Howcan I make a MAN understand that a feeling which horrifies me at myself,can be a feeling that fascinates me at the same time? It's the breathof my life, Godfrey, and it's the poison that kills me--both in one!Go away! I must be out of my mind to talk as I am talking now. No! youmustn't leave me--you mustn't carry away a wrong impression. I must saywhat is to be said in my own defence. Mind this! HE doesn't know--henever will know, what I have told you. I will never see him--I don'tcare what happens--I will never, never, never see him again! Don't askme his name! Don't ask me any more! Let's change the subject. Are youdoctor enough, Godfrey, to tell me why I feel as if I was stifling forwant of breath? Is there a form of hysterics that bursts into wordsinstead of tears? I dare say! What does it matter? You will get over anytrouble I have caused you, easily enough now. I have dropped to my rightplace in your estimation, haven't I? Don't notice me! Don't pity me! ForGod's sake, go away!"
She turned round on a sudden, and beat her hands wildly on the back ofthe ottoman. Her head dropped on the cushions; and she burst out crying.Before I had time to feel shocked, at this, I was horror-struck by anentirely unexpected proceeding on the part of Mr. Godfrey. Will itbe credited that he fell on his knees at her feet?--on BOTH knees, Isolemnly declare! May modesty mention that he put his arms round hernext? And may reluctant admiration acknowledge that he electrified herwith two words?
"Noble creature!"
No more than that! But he did it with one of the bursts which have madehis fame as a public speaker. She sat, either quite thunderstruck, orquite fascinated--I don't know which--without even making an effort toput his arms back where his arms ought to have been. As for me, my senseof propriety was completely bewildered. I was so painfully uncertainwhether it was my first duty to close my eyes, or to stop my ears, thatI did neither. I attribute my being still able to hold the curtain inthe right position for looking and listening, entirely to suppressedhysterics. In suppressed hysterics, it is admitted, even by the doctors,that one must hold something.
"Yes," he said, with all the fascination of his evangelical voice andmanner, "you are a noble creature! A woman who can speak the truth, forthe truth's own sake--a woman who will sacrifice her pride, rather thansacrifice an honest man who loves her--is the most priceless of alltreasures. When such a woman marries, if her husband only wins heresteem and regard, he wins enough to ennoble his whole life. You havespoken, dearest, of your place in my estimation. Judge what that placeis--when I implore you on my knees, to let the cure of your poor woundedheart be my care. Rachel! will you honour me, will you bless me, bybeing my wife?"
By this time I should certainly have decided on stopping my ears, ifRachel had not encouraged me to keep them open, by answering him in thefirst sensible words I had ever heard fall from her lips.
"Godfrey!" she said, "you must be mad!"
"I never spoke more reasonably, dearest--in your interests, as wellas in mine. Look for a moment to the future. Is your happiness to besacrificed to a man who has never known how you feel towards him,and whom you are resolved never to see again? Is it not your duty toyourself to forget this ill-fated attachment? and is forgetfulness to befound in the life you are leading now? You have tried that life, and youare wearying of it already. Surround yourself with nobler interests thanthe wretched interests of the world. A heart that loves and honours you;a home whose peaceful claims and happy duties win gently on you day byday--try the consolation, Rachel, which is to be found THERE! I don'task for your love--I will be content with your affection and regard. Letthe rest be left, confidently left, to your husband's devotion, and toTime that heals even wounds as deep as yours."
She began to yield already. Oh, what a bringing-up she must have had!Oh, how differently I should have acted in her place!
"Don't tempt me, Godfrey," she said; "I am wretched enough and recklessenough as it is. Don't tempt me to be more wretched and more wrecklessstill!"
"One question, Rachel. Have you any personal objection to me?"
"I! I always liked you. After what you have just said to me, I should beinsensible indeed if I didn't respect and admire you as well."
"Do you know many wives, my dear Rachel, who respect and admire theirhusbands? And yet they and their husbands get on very well. How manybrides go to the altar with hearts that would bear inspection by the menwho take them there? And yet it doesn't end unhappily--somehow or otherthe nuptial establishment jogs on. The truth is, that women try marriageas a Refuge, far more numerously than they are willing to admit; and,what is more, they find that marriage has justified their confidencein it. Look at your own case once again. At your age, and with yourattractions, is it possible for you to sentence yourself to a singlelife? Trust my knowledge of the world--nothing is less possible. Itis merely a question of time. You may marry some other man, some yearshence. Or you may marry the man, dearest, who is now at your feet, andwho prizes your respect and admiration above the love of any other womanon the face of the earth."
"Gently, Godfrey! you are putting something into my head which I neverthought of before. You are tempting me with a new prospect, when all myother prospects are closed before me. I tell you again, I am miserableenough and desperate enough, if you say another word, to marry you onyour own terms. Take the warning, and go!"
"I won't even rise from my knees, till you have said yes!"
"If I say yes you will repent, and I shall repent, when it is too late!"
"We shall both bless the day, darling, when I pressed, and when youyielded."
"Do you feel as confidently as you speak?"
"You shall judge for yourself. I speak from what I have seen in my ownfamily. Tell me what you think of our household at Frizinghall. Do myfather and mother live unhappily together?"
"Far from it--so far as I can see."
"When my mother was a girl, Rachel (it is no secret in the family), shehad loved as you love--she had given her heart to a man who was unworthyof her. She married my father, respecting him, admiring him, but nothingmore. Your own eyes have seen the result. Is there no encouragement init for you and for me?" *
* See Betteredge's Narrative, chapter viii.
"You won't hurry me, Godfrey?"
"My time shall be yours."
"You won't ask me for more than I can give?"
"My angel! I only ask you to give me yourself."
"Take me!"
In those two words she accepted him!
He had another burst--a burst of unholy rapture this time. He drew hernearer and nearer to him till her face touched his; and then--No! Ireally cannot prevail upon myself to carry this shocking disclosureany farther. Let me only say, that I tried to close my eyes before ithappened, and that I was just one moment too late. I had calculated, yousee, on her resisting. She submitted. To every right-feeling person ofmy own sex, volumes could say no more.
Even my innocence in such matters began to see its way to the end of theinterview now. They understood each other so thoroughly by this time,that I fully expected to see them walk off together, arm in arm, to bemarried. There appeared, however, judging by Mr. Godfrey's next words,to be one more trifling formality which it was necessary to observe.He seated himself--unforbidden this time--on the ottoman by her side."Shall I speak to your dear mother?" he asked. "Or will you?"
She declined both alternatives.
"Let my mother hear nothing from either of us, until she is better. Iwish it to be kept a secret for the present, Godfrey. Go now, and comeback this evening. We have been here alone together quite long enough."
She rose, and in rising, looked for the first time towards the littleroom in w
hich my martyrdom was going on.
"Who has drawn those curtains?" she exclaimed.
"The room is close enough, as it is, without keeping the air out of itin that way."
She advanced to the curtains. At the moment when she laid her handon them--at the moment when the discovery of me appeared to be quiteinevitable--the voice of the fresh-coloured young footman, on thestairs, suddenly suspended any further proceedings on her side or onmine. It was unmistakably the voice of a man in great alarm.
"Miss Rachel!" he called out, "where are you, Miss Rachel?"
She sprang back from the curtains, and ran to the door.
The footman came just inside the room. His ruddy colour was all gone.He said, "Please to come down-stairs, Miss! My lady has fainted, and wecan't bring her to again."
In a moment more I was alone, and free to go down-stairs in my turn,quite unobserved.
Mr. Godfrey passed me in the hall, hurrying out, to fetch the doctor."Go in, and help them!" he said, pointing to the room. I found Rachel onher knees by the sofa, with her mother's head on her bosom. One lookat my aunt's face (knowing what I knew) was enough to warn me of thedreadful truth. I kept my thoughts to myself till the doctor came in.It was not long before he arrived. He began by sending Rachel out of theroom--and then he told the rest of us that Lady Verinder was no more.Serious persons, in search of proofs of hardened scepticism, may beinterested in hearing that he showed no signs of remorse when he lookedat Me.
At a later hour I peeped into the breakfast-room, and the library. Myaunt had died without opening one of the letters which I had addressedto her. I was so shocked at this, that it never occurred to me, untilsome days afterwards, that she had also died without giving me my littlelegacy.