Middlemarch

CHAPTER LVII.

They numbered scarce eight summers when a name Rose on their souls and stirred such motions there As thrill the buds and shape their hidden frame At penetration of the quickening air: His name who told of loyal Evan Dhu, Of quaint Bradwardine, and Vich Ian Vor, Making the little world their childhood knew Large with a land of mountain lake and scaur, And larger yet with wonder love belief Toward Walter Scott who living far away Sent them this wealth of joy and noble grief. The book and they must part, but day by day, In lines that thwart like portly spiders ran They wrote the tale, from Tully Veolan.

The evening that Fred Vincy walked to Lowick parsonage (he had begun tosee that this was a world in which even a spirited young man mustsometimes walk for want of a horse to carry him) he set out at fiveo'clock and called on Mrs. Garth by the way, wishing to assure himselfthat she accepted their new relations willingly.

He found the family group, dogs and cats included, under the greatapple-tree in the orchard. It was a festival with Mrs. Garth, for hereldest son, Christy, her peculiar joy and pride, had come home for ashort holiday--Christy, who held it the most desirable thing in theworld to be a tutor, to study all literatures and be a regeneratePorson, and who was an incorporate criticism on poor Fred, a sort ofobject-lesson given to him by the educational mother. Christy himself,a square-browed, broad-shouldered masculine edition of his mother notmuch higher than Fred's shoulder--which made it the harder that heshould be held superior--was always as simple as possible, and thoughtno more of Fred's disinclination to scholarship than of a giraffe's,wishing that he himself were more of the same height. He was lying onthe ground now by his mother's chair, with his straw hat laid flat overhis eyes, while Jim on the other side was reading aloud from thatbeloved writer who has made a chief part in the happiness of many younglives. The volume was ”Ivanhoe,” and Jim was in the great archeryscene at the tournament, but suffered much interruption from Ben, whohad fetched his own old bow and arrows, and was making himselfdreadfully disagreeable, Letty thought, by begging all present toobserve his random shots, which no one wished to do except Brownie, theactive-minded but probably shallow mongrel, while the grizzledNewfoundland lying in the sun looked on with the dull-eyed neutralityof extreme old age. Letty herself, showing as to her mouth andpinafore some slight signs that she had been assisting at the gatheringof the cherries which stood in a coral-heap on the tea-table, was nowseated on the grass, listening open-eyed to the reading.

But the centre of interest was changed for all by the arrival of FredVincy. When, seating himself on a garden-stool, he said that he was onhis way to Lowick Parsonage, Ben, who had thrown down his bow, andsnatched up a reluctant half-grown kitten instead, strode across Fred'soutstretched leg, and said ”Take me!”

”Oh, and me too,” said Letty.

”You can't keep up with Fred and me,” said Ben.

”Yes, I can. Mother, please say that I am to go,” urged Letty, whoselife was much checkered by resistance to her depreciation as a girl.

”I shall stay with Christy,” observed Jim; as much as to say that hehad the advantage of those simpletons; whereupon Letty put her hand upto her head and looked with jealous indecision from the one to theother.

”Let us all go and see Mary,” said Christy, opening his arms.

”No, my dear child, we must not go in a swarm to the parsonage. Andthat old Glasgow suit of yours would never do. Besides, your fatherwill come home. We must let Fred go alone. He can tell Mary that youare here, and she will come back to-morrow.”

Christy glanced at his own threadbare knees, and then at Fred'sbeautiful white trousers. Certainly Fred's tailoring suggested theadvantages of an English university, and he had a graceful way even oflooking warm and of pushing his hair back with his handkerchief.

”Children, run away,” said Mrs. Garth; ”it is too warm to hang aboutyour friends. Take your brother and show him the rabbits.”

The eldest understood, and led off the children immediately. Fred feltthat Mrs. Garth wished to give him an opportunity of saying anything hehad to say, but he could only begin by observing--

”How glad you must be to have Christy here!”

”Yes; he has come sooner than I expected. He got down from the coachat nine o'clock, just after his father went out. I am longing forCaleb to come and hear what wonderful progress Christy is making. Hehas paid his expenses for the last year by giving lessons, carrying onhard study at the same time. He hopes soon to get a private tutorshipand go abroad.”

”He is a great fellow,” said Fred, to whom these cheerful truths had amedicinal taste, ”and no trouble to anybody.” After a slight pause, headded, ”But I fear you will think that I am going to be a great deal oftrouble to Mr. Garth.”

”Caleb likes taking trouble: he is one of those men who always do morethan any one would have thought of asking them to do,” answered Mrs.Garth. She was knitting, and could either look at Fred or not, as shechose--always an advantage when one is bent on loading speech withsalutary meaning; and though Mrs. Garth intended to be duly reserved,she did wish to say something that Fred might be the better for.

”I know you think me very undeserving, Mrs. Garth, and with goodreason,” said Fred, his spirit rising a little at the perception ofsomething like a disposition to lecture him. ”I happen to have behavedjust the worst to the people I can't help wishing for the most from.But while two men like Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother have not given meup, I don't see why I should give myself up.” Fred thought it might bewell to suggest these masculine examples to Mrs. Garth.

”Assuredly,” said she, with gathering emphasis. ”A young man for whomtwo such elders had devoted themselves would indeed be culpable if hethrew himself away and made their sacrifices vain.”

Fred wondered a little at this strong language, but only said, ”I hopeit will not be so with me, Mrs. Garth, since I have some encouragementto believe that I may win Mary. Mr. Garth has told you about that?You were not surprised, I dare say?” Fred ended, innocently referringonly to his own love as probably evident enough.

”Not surprised that Mary has given you encouragement?” returned Mrs.Garth, who thought it would be well for Fred to be more alive to thefact that Mary's friends could not possibly have wished thisbeforehand, whatever the Vincys might suppose. ”Yes, I confess I wassurprised.”

”She never did give me any--not the least in the world, when I talkedto her myself,” said Fred, eager to vindicate Mary. ”But when I askedMr. Farebrother to speak for me, she allowed him to tell me there was ahope.”

The power of admonition which had begun to stir in Mrs. Garth had notyet discharged itself. It was a little too provoking even for _her_self-control that this blooming youngster should flourish on thedisappointments of sadder and wiser people--making a meal of anightingale and never knowing it--and that all the while his familyshould suppose that hers was in eager need of this sprig; and hervexation had fermented the more actively because of its totalrepression towards her husband. Exemplary wives will sometimes findscapegoats in this way. She now said with energetic decision, ”Youmade a great mistake, Fred, in asking Mr. Farebrother to speak for you.”

”Did I?” said Fred, reddening instantaneously. He was alarmed, but ata loss to know what Mrs. Garth meant, and added, in an apologetic tone,”Mr. Farebrother has always been such a friend of ours; and Mary, Iknew, would listen to him gravely; and he took it on himself quitereadily.”

”Yes, young people are usually blind to everything but their ownwishes, and seldom imagine how much those wishes cost others,” saidMrs. Garth. She did not mean to go beyond this salutary generaldoctrine, and threw her indignation into a needless unwinding of herworsted, knitting her brow at it with a grand air.

”I cannot conceive how it could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother,” saidFred, who nevertheless felt that surprising conceptions were beginningto form themselves.

”Precisely; you cannot conceive,” said Mrs. Garth, cutting her words asneatly as possible.

For a moment Fred looked at the horizon with a dismayed anxiety, andthen turning with a quick movement said almost sharply--

”Do you mean to say, Mrs. Garth, that Mr. Farebrother is in love withMary?”

”And if it were so, Fred, I think you are the last person who ought tobe surprised,” returned Mrs. Garth, laying her knitting down beside herand folding her arms. It was an unwonted sign of emotion in her thatshe should put her work out of her hands. In fact her feelings weredivided between the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and thesense of having gone a little too far. Fred took his hat and stick androse quickly.

”Then you think I am standing in his way, and in Mary's too?” he said,in a tone which seemed to demand an answer.

Mrs. Garth could not speak immediately. She had brought herself intothe unpleasant position of being called on to say what she really felt,yet what she knew there were strong reasons for concealing. And to herthe consciousness of having exceeded in words was peculiarlymortifying. Besides, Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and henow added, ”Mr. Garth seemed pleased that Mary should be attached tome. He could not have known anything of this.”

Mrs. Garth felt a severe twinge at this mention of her husband, thefear that Caleb might think her in the wrong not being easilyendurable. She answered, wanting to check unintended consequences--

”I spoke from inference only. I am not aware that Mary knows anythingof the matter.”

But she hesitated to beg that he would keep entire silence on a subjectwhich she had herself unnecessarily mentioned, not being used to stoopin that way; and while she was hesitating there was already a rush ofunintended consequences under the apple-tree where the tea-thingsstood. Ben, bouncing across the grass with Brownie at his heels, andseeing the kitten dragging the knitting by a lengthening line of wool,shouted and clapped his hands; Brownie barked, the kitten, desperate,jumped on the tea-table and upset the milk, then jumped down again andswept half the cherries with it; and Ben, snatching up the half-knittedsock-top, fitted it over the kitten's head as a new source of madness,while Letty arriving cried out to her mother against this cruelty--itwas a history as full of sensation as ”This is the house that Jackbuilt.” Mrs. Garth was obliged to interfere, the other young ones cameup and the tete-a-tete with Fred was ended. He got away as soon as hecould, and Mrs. Garth could only imply some retractation of herseverity by saying ”God bless you” when she shook hands with him.

She was unpleasantly conscious that she had been on the verge ofspeaking as ”one of the foolish women speaketh”--telling first andentreating silence after. But she had not entreated silence, and toprevent Caleb's blame she determined to blame herself and confess allto him that very night. It was curious what an awful tribunal the mildCaleb's was to her, whenever he set it up. But she meant to point outto him that the revelation might do Fred Vincy a great deal of good.

No doubt it was having a strong effect on him as he walked to Lowick.Fred's light hopeful nature had perhaps never had so much of a bruiseas from this suggestion that if he had been out of the way Mary mighthave made a thoroughly good match. Also he was piqued that he had beenwhat he called such a stupid lout as to ask that intervention from Mr.Farebrother. But it was not in a lover's nature--it was not inFred's, that the new anxiety raised about Mary's feeling should notsurmount every other. Notwithstanding his trust in Mr. Farebrother'sgenerosity, notwithstanding what Mary had said to him, Fred could nothelp feeling that he had a rival: it was a new consciousness, and heobjected to it extremely, not being in the least ready to give up Maryfor her good, being ready rather to fight for her with any manwhatsoever. But the fighting with Mr. Farebrother must be of ametaphorical kind, which was much more difficult to Fred than themuscular. Certainly this experience was a discipline for Fred hardlyless sharp than his disappointment about his uncle's will. The ironhad not entered into his soul, but he had begun to imagine what thesharp edge would be. It did not once occur to Fred that Mrs. Garthmight be mistaken about Mr. Farebrother, but he suspected that shemight be wrong about Mary. Mary had been staying at the parsonagelately, and her mother might know very little of what had been passingin her mind.

He did not feel easier when he found her looking cheerful with thethree ladies in the drawing-room. They were in animated discussion onsome subject which was dropped when he entered, and Mary was copyingthe labels from a heap of shallow cabinet drawers, in a minutehandwriting which she was skilled in. Mr. Farebrother was somewhere inthe village, and the three ladies knew nothing of Fred's peculiarrelation to Mary: it was impossible for either of them to propose thatthey should walk round the garden, and Fred predicted to himself thathe should have to go away without saying a word to her in private. Hetold her first of Christy's arrival and then of his own engagement withher father; and he was comforted by seeing that this latter newstouched her keenly. She said hurriedly, ”I am so glad,” and then bentover her writing to hinder any one from noticing her face. But herewas a subject which Mrs. Farebrother could not let pass.

”You don't mean, my dear Miss Garth, that you are glad to hear of ayoung man giving up the Church for which he was educated: you only meanthat things being so, you are glad that he should be under an excellentman like your father.”

”No, really, Mrs. Farebrother, I am glad of both, I fear,” said Mary,cleverly getting rid of one rebellious tear. ”I have a dreadfullysecular mind. I never liked any clergyman except the Vicar ofWakefield and Mr. Farebrother.”

”Now why, my dear?” said Mrs. Farebrother, pausing on her large woodenknitting-needles and looking at Mary. ”You have always a good reasonfor your opinions, but this astonishes me. Of course I put out of thequestion those who preach new doctrine. But why should you dislikeclergymen?”

”Oh dear,” said Mary, her face breaking into merriment as she seemed toconsider a moment, ”I don't like their neckcloths.”

”Why, you don't like Camden's, then,” said Miss Winifred, in someanxiety.

”Yes, I do,” said Mary. ”I don't like the other clergymen'sneckcloths, because it is they who wear them.”

”How very puzzling!” said Miss Noble, feeling that her own intellectwas probably deficient.

”My dear, you are joking. You would have better reasons than these forslighting so respectable a class of men,” said Mrs. Farebrother,majestically.

”Miss Garth has such severe notions of what people should be that it isdifficult to satisfy her,” said Fred.

”Well, I am glad at least that she makes an exception in favor of myson,” said the old lady.

Mary was wondering at Fred's piqued tone, when Mr. Farebrother came inand had to hear the news about the engagement under Mr. Garth. At theend he said with quiet satisfaction, ”_That_ is right;” and then bentto look at Mary's labels and praise her handwriting. Fred felthorribly jealous--was glad, of course, that Mr. Farebrother was soestimable, but wished that he had been ugly and fat as men at fortysometimes are. It was clear what the end would be, since Mary openlyplaced Farebrother above everybody, and these women were all evidentlyencouraging the affair. He was feeling sure that he should have nochance of speaking to Mary, when Mr. Farebrother said--

”Fred, help me to carry these drawers back into my study--you havenever seen my fine new study. Pray come too, Miss Garth. I want youto see a stupendous spider I found this morning.”

Mary at once saw the Vicar's intention. He had never since thememorable evening deviated from his old pastoral kindness towards her,and her momentary wonder and doubt had quite gone to sleep. Mary wasaccustomed to think rather rigorously of what was probable, and if abelief flattered her vanity she felt warned to dismiss it asridiculous, having early had much exercise in such dismissals. It wasas she had foreseen: when Fred had been asked to admire the fittings ofthe study, and she had been asked to admire the spider, Mr. Farebrothersaid--

”Wait here a minute or two. I am going to look out an engraving whichFred is tall enough to hang for me. I shall be back in a few minutes.”And then he went out. Nevertheless, the first word Fred said to Marywas--

”It is of no use, whatever I do, Mary. You are sure to marryFarebrother at last.” There was some rage in his tone.

”What do you mean, Fred?” Mary exclaimed indignantly, blushing deeply,and surprised out of all her readiness in reply.

”It is impossible that you should not see it all clearly enough--youwho see everything.”

”I only see that you are behaving very ill, Fred, in speaking so of Mr.Farebrother after he has pleaded your cause in every way. How can youhave taken up such an idea?”

Fred was rather deep, in spite of his irritation. If Mary had reallybeen unsuspicious, there was no good in telling her what Mrs. Garth hadsaid.

”It follows as a matter of course,” he replied. ”When you arecontinually seeing a man who beats me in everything, and whom you setup above everybody, I can have no fair chance.”

”You are very ungrateful, Fred,” said Mary. ”I wish I had never toldMr. Farebrother that I cared for you in the least.”

”No, I am not ungrateful; I should be the happiest fellow in the worldif it were not for this. I told your father everything, and he wasvery kind; he treated me as if I were his son. I could go at the workwith a will, writing and everything, if it were not for this.”

”For this? for what?” said Mary, imagining now that something specificmust have been said or done.

”This dreadful certainty that I shall be bowled out by Farebrother.”Mary was appeased by her inclination to laugh.

”Fred,” she said, peeping round to catch his eyes, which were sulkilyturned away from her, ”you are too delightfully ridiculous. If youwere not such a charming simpleton, what a temptation this would be toplay the wicked coquette, and let you suppose that somebody besides youhas made love to me.”

”Do you really like me best, Mary?” said Fred, turning eyes full ofaffection on her, and trying to take her hand.

”I don't like you at all at this moment,” said Mary, retreating, andputting her hands behind her. ”I only said that no mortal ever madelove to me besides you. And that is no argument that a very wise manever will,” she ended, merrily.

”I wish you would tell me that you could not possibly ever think ofhim,” said Fred.

”Never dare to mention this any more to me, Fred,” said Mary, gettingserious again. ”I don't know whether it is more stupid or ungenerousin you not to see that Mr. Farebrother has left us together on purposethat we might speak freely. I am disappointed that you should be soblind to his delicate feeling.”

There was no time to say any more before Mr. Farebrother came back withthe engraving; and Fred had to return to the drawing-room still with ajealous dread in his heart, but yet with comforting arguments fromMary's words and manner. The result of the conversation was on thewhole more painful to Mary: inevitably her attention had taken a newattitude, and she saw the possibility of new interpretations. She wasin a position in which she seemed to herself to be slighting Mr.Farebrother, and this, in relation to a man who is much honored, isalways dangerous to the firmness of a grateful woman. To have a reasonfor going home the next day was a relief, for Mary earnestly desired tobe always clear that she loved Fred best. When a tender affection hasbeen storing itself in us through many of our years, the idea that wecould accept any exchange for it seems to be a cheapening of our lives.And we can set a watch over our affections and our constancy as we canover other treasures.

”Fred has lost all his other expectations; he must keep this,” Marysaid to herself, with a smile curling her lips. It was impossible tohelp fleeting visions of another kind--new dignities and anacknowledged value of which she had often felt the absence. But thesethings with Fred outside them, Fred forsaken and looking sad for thewant of her, could never tempt her deliberate thought.