CHAPTER XXXVIII.
The down we rest on in our aery dreams Has not been plucked from birds that live and smart; 'Tis but warm snow, that melts not.
The story and the prospect revealed to Esther by the lawyer's letter,which she and her father studied together, had made an impression on hervery different from what she had been used to figure to herself in hermany day-dreams as to the effect of a sudden elevation in rank andfortune. In her day-dreams she had not traced out the means by whichsuch a change could be brought about; in fact, the change had seemedimpossible to her, except in her little private Utopia, which, likeother Utopias, was filled with delightful results, independent ofprocesses. But her mind had fixed itself habitually on the signs andluxuries of ladyhood, for which she had the keenest perception. She hadseen the very mat in her carriage, had scented the dried rose-leaves inher corridors, had felt the soft carpet under her pretty feet, and seenherself, as she rose from her sofa cushions, in the crystal panel thatreflected a long drawing-room, where the conservatory flowers and thepictures of fair women left her still with the supremacy of charm. Shehad trodden the marble-firm gravel of her garden-walks and the soft deepturf of her lawn; she had had her servants about her filled with adoringrespect, because of her kindness as well as her grace and beauty; butshe had had several accomplished cavaliers all at once sueing for herhand--one of whom, uniting very high birth with long dark eyelashes andthe most distinguished talents, she secretly preferred, though his prideand hers hindered an avowal, and supplied the inestimable interest ofretardation. The glimpses she had had in her brief life as a familygoverness, supplied her ready faculty with details enough of delightfulstill life to furnish her day-dreams; and no one who has not, likeEsther, a strong natural prompting and susceptibility toward suchthings, and has at the same time suffered from the presence of oppositeconditions, can understand how powerfully those minor accidents of rankwhich please the fastidious sense can preoccupy the imagination.
It seemed that almost everything in her day-dreams--cavaliersapart--must be found at Transome Court. But now that fancy was becomingreal, and the impossible appeared possible, Esther found the balance ofher attention reversed: now that her ladyhood was not simply in Utopia,she found herself arrested and painfully grasped by the means throughwhich the ladyhood was to be obtained. To her inexperience this strangestory of an alienated inheritance, of such a last representative ofpure-blooded lineage as old Thomas Transome the bill-sticker, above allof the dispossession hanging over those who actually held, and hadexpected always to hold, the wealth and position which were suddenlyannounced to be rightly hers--all these things made a picture, not forher own tastes and fancies to float in with Elysian indulgence, but inwhich she was compelled to gaze on the degrading hard experience ofother human beings, and on a humiliating loss which was the obverse ofher own proud gain. Even in her times of most untroubled egoism, Esthershrank from anything ungenerous; and the fact that she had a very livelyimage of Harold Transome and his gypsy-eyed boy in her mind, gaveadditional distinctness to the thought that if she entered they mustdepart. Of the elder Transomes she had a dimmer vision, and they werenecessarily in the background to her sympathy.
She and her father sat with their hands locked, as they might have doneif they had been listening to a solemn oracle in the days of oldrevealing unknown kinship and rightful heirdom. It was not that Estherhad any thought of renouncing her fortune; she was incapable, in thesemoments, of condensing her vague ideas and feelings into any distinctplan of action, nor indeed did it seem that she was called upon to actwith any promptitude. It was only that she was conscious of beingstrangely awed by something that was called good fortune; and the aweshut out any scheme of rejection as much as any triumphant joy inacceptance. Her father, she learned, had died disappointed and inwrongful imprisonment, and an undefined sense of Nemesis seemed half tosanctify her inheritance, and counteract its apparent arbitrariness.
Felix Holt was present in her mind throughout; what he would say was animaginary commentary that she was constantly framing, and the words thatshe most frequently gave him--for she dramatized under the inspirationof a sadness slightly bitter--were of this kind: "That is clearly yourdestiny--to be aristocratic, to be rich. I always saw that our lots laywidely apart. You are not fit for poverty, or any work of difficulty.But remember what I once said to you about a vision of consequences;take care where your fortune leads you."
Her father had not spoken since they had ended their study anddiscussion of the story and the evidence as it was presented to them.Into this he had entered with his usual penetrating activity; but he wasso accustomed to the impersonal study of narrative, that even in theseexceptional moments the habit of half a century asserted itself, and heseemed sometimes not to distinguish the case of Esther's inheritancefrom a story in ancient history, until some detail recalled him to theprofound feeling that a great, great change might be coming over thelife of this child who was so close to him. At last he relapsed intototal silence, and for some time Esther was not moved to interrupt it.He had sunk back in his chair with his hand locked in hers, and waspursuing a sort of prayerful meditation: he lifted up no formalpetition, but it was as if his soul travelled again over the facts hehad been considering in the company of a guide ready to inspire andcorrect him. He was striving to purify his feeling in this matter fromselfish or worldly dross--a striving which is that prayer withoutceasing, sure to wrest an answer by its sublime importunity.
There is no knowing how long they might have sat in this way, if it hadnot been for the inevitable Lyddy reminding them dismally of dinner.
"Yes, Lyddy, we come," said Esther: and then, before moving--
"Is there any advice you have in your mind for me, father?" The sense ofawe was growing in Esther. Her intensest life was no longer in herdreams, where she made things to her own mind: she was moving in a worldcharged with forces.
"Not yet, my dear--save this; that you will seek special illumination inthis juncture, and, above all, be watchful that your soul be not liftedup within you by what, rightly considered, is rather an increase ofcharge, and a call upon you to walk along a path which is indeed easy tothe flesh, but dangerous to the spirit."
"You would always live with me, father?" Esther said, under a strongimpulse--partly affection, partly the need to grasp at some moral help.But she had no sooner uttered the words than they raised a vision,showing, as by a flash of lightning, the incongruity of that past whichhad created the sanctities and affections of her life with that futurewhich was coming to her----The little rusty old minister, with the oneluxury of his Sunday evening pipe, smoked up the kitchen chimney, comingto live in the midst of grandeur----but no! her father, with thegrandeur of his past sorrow and his long struggling labors, forsakinghis vocation, and vulgarly accepting an existence unsuited tohim.----Esther's face flushed with the excitement of this vision and itsreversed interpretation, which five months ago she would have beenincapable of seeing. Her question to her father seemed like a mockery;she was ashamed. He answered slowly--
"Touch not that chord yet, my child. I must learn to think of thy lotaccording to the demands of Providence. We will rest a while from thesubject; and I will seek calmness in my ordinary duties."
The next morning nothing more was said. Mr. Lyon was absorbed in hissermon-making, for it was near the end of the week, and Esther wasobliged to attend to her pupils. Mrs. Holt came by invitation withlittle Job to share their dinner of roast-meat; and, after much of whatthe minister called unprofitable discourse, she was quitting the housewhen she hastened back with an astonished face, to tell Mr. Lyon andEsther, who were already in wonder at crashing, thundering sounds on thepavement, that there was a carriage stopping and stamping at the entryinto Malthouse Yard, with "all sorts of fine liveries," and a lady andgentleman inside. Mr. Lyon and Esther looked at each other, both havingthe same name in their minds.
"If it's Mr. Transome or somebody else as is great, Mr. Lyon," urgedMrs. Holt, "you'll remember m
y son, and say he's got a mother with acharacter they may enquire into as much as they like. And never mindwhat Felix says, for he's so masterful he'd stay in prison and betransported whether or no, only to have his own way. For it's not to bethought but what the great people could get him off if they would; andit's very hard with a King in the country and all the texts in Proverbsabout the King's countenance, and Solomon and the live baby----"
Mr. Lyon lifted up his hand deprecatingly, and Mrs. Holt retreated fromthe parlor-door to a corner of the kitchen, the outer doorway beingoccupied by Dominic, who was enquiring if Mr. and Miss Lyon were athome, and could receive Mrs. Transome and Mr. Harold Transome. WhileDominic went back to the carriage Mrs. Holt escaped with her tinycompanion to Zachary's, the new pew-opener, observing to Lyddy that sheknew herself, and was not that woman to stay where she might not bewanted; whereupon Lyddy, differing fundamentally, admonished her partingear that it was well if she knew herself to be dust and ashes--silentlyextending the application of this remark to Mrs. Transome, as she sawthe tall lady sweep in arrayed in her rich black and fur, with that finegentleman behind her whose thick top-knot of wavy hair, sparkling ring,dark complexion, and general air of worldly exaltation unconnected withchapel, were painfully suggestive to Lyddy of Herod, Pontius Pilate, orthe much-quoted Gallio.
Harold Transome, greeting Esther gracefully, presented his mother, whoseeagle-like glance, fixed on her from the first moment of entering,seemed to Esther to pierce her through. Mrs. Transome hardly noticed Mr.Lyon, not from studied haughtiness, but from sheer mental inability toconsider him--as a person ignorant of natural history is unable toconsider a fresh-water polyp otherwise than as a sort of animated weed,certainly not fit for table. But Harold saw that his mother wasagreeably struck by Esther, who indeed showed to much advantage. She wasnot at all taken by surprise, and maintained a dignified quietude; buther previous knowledge and reflection about the possible dispossessionof these Transomes gave her a softened feeling toward them which tingedher manners very agreeably.
Harold was carefully polite to the minister, throwing out a word to makehim understand that he had an important part in the important businesswhich had brought this unannounced visit; and the four made a groupseated not far off each other near the window, Mrs. Transome and Estherbeing on the sofa.
"You must be astonished at a visit from me, Miss Lyon," Mrs. Transomebegan; "I seldom come to Treby Magna. Now I see you, the visit is anunexpected pleasure; but the cause of my coming is business of a seriousnature, which my son will communicate to you."
"I ought to begin by saying that what I have to announce to you is thereverse of disagreeable, Miss Lyon," said Harold, with lively ease. "Idon't suppose the world would consider it very good news for me; but arejected candidate, Mr. Lyon," Harold went on, turning graciously to theminister, "begins to be inured to loss and misfortune."
"Truly, sir," said Mr. Lyon, with a rather sad solemnity, "your allusionhath a grievous bearing for me, but I will not retard your presentpurpose by further remark."
"You will never guess what I have to disclose," said Harold, againlooking at Esther, "unless, indeed, you have already had some previousintimation of it."
"Does it refer to law and inheritance?" said Esther, with a smile. Shewas already brightened by Harold's manner. The news seemed to be losingits chillness, and to be something really belonging to warm,comfortable, interesting life.
"Then you have already heard of it?" said Harold, inwardly vexed, butsufficiently prepared not to seem so.
"Only yesterday," said Esther, quite simply, "I received a letter fromsome lawyers with a statement of many surprising things, showing that Iwas an heiress"--here she turned very prettily to address Mrs.Transome--"which, as you may imagine, is one of the last things I couldhave supposed myself to be."
"My dear," said Mrs. Transome with elderly grace, just laying her handfor an instant on Esther's, "it is a lot that would become youadmirably."
Esther blushed, and said playfully:
"Oh, I know what to buy with fifty pounds a-year, but I know the priceof nothing beyond that."
Her father sat looking at her through his spectacles, stroking his chin.It was amazing to herself that she was taking so lightly now what hadcaused her such deep emotion yesterday.
"I daresay, then," said Harold, "you are more fully possessed ofparticulars than I am. So that my mother and I need only tell you whatno one else can tell you--that is, what are her and my feelings andwishes under these new and unexpected circumstances."
"I am most anxious," said Esther, with a grave beautiful look of respectto Mrs. Transome--"most anxious on that point. Indeed, being of coursein uncertainty about it, I have not yet known whether I could rejoice."Mrs. Transome's glance had softened. She liked Esther to look at her.
"Our chief anxiety," she said, knowing what Harold wished her to say,"is, that there may be no contest, no useless expenditure of money. Ofcourse we will surrender what can be rightfully claimed."
"My mother expresses our feeling precisely, Miss Lyon," said Harold."And I'm sure, Mr. Lyon, you will understand our desire."
"Assuredly, sir. My daughter would in any case have had my advice toseek a conclusion which would involve no strife. We endeavor, sir, inour body, to hold to the apostolic rule that one Christian brothershould not go to law with another; and I, for my part, would extend thisrule to all my fellow-men, apprehending that the practice of our courtsis little consistent with the simplicity that is in Christ."
"If it is to depend on my will," said Esther, "there is nothing thatwould be more repugnant to me than any struggle on such a subject. Butcan't the lawyers go on doing what they will in spite of me? It seemsthat this is what they mean."
"Not exactly," said Harold, smiling. "Of course they live by suchstruggles as you dislike. But we can thwart them by determining not toquarrel. It is desirable that we should consider the affair together,and put it into the hands of honorable solicitors. I assure you weTransomes will not contend for what is not our own."
"And this is what I have come to beg of you," said Mrs. Transome. "It isthat you will come to Transome Court--and let us take full time toarrange matters. Do oblige me: you shall not be teased more than youlike by an old woman: you shall do just as you please, and becomeacquainted with your future home, since it is to be yours. I can tellyou a world of things that you will want to know; and the business canproceed properly."
"Do consent," said Harold, with winning brevity.
Esther was flushed and her eyes were bright. It was impossible for hernot to feel that the proposal was a more tempting step toward her changeof condition than she could have thought of beforehand. She hadforgotten that she was in any trouble. But she looked toward her father,who was again stroking his chin, as was his habit when he was doubtingor deliberating.
"I hope you do not disapprove of Miss Lyon's granting us this favor?"said Harold to the minister.
"I have nothing to oppose to it, sir, if my daughter's own mind is clearas to her course."
"You will come--now--with us," said Mrs. Transome, persuasively. "Youwill go back with us now in the carriage."
Harold was highly gratified with the perfection of his mother's manneron this occasion, which he had looked forward to as difficult. Since hehad come home again he had never seen her so much at her ease, or withso much benignancy in her face. The secret lay in the charm of Esther'ssweet young deference, a sort of charm that had not before entered intoMrs. Transome's elderly life. Esther's pretty behavior, it must beconfessed, was not fed entirely from lofty moral sources: over and aboveher really generous feeling, she enjoyed Mrs. Transome's accent, thehigh-bred quietness of her speech, the delicate odor of her drapery. Shehad always thought that life must be particularly easy if one could passit among refined people; and so it seemed at this moment. She wished,unmixedly, to go to Transome Court.
"Since my father has no objection," she said, "and you urge me sokindly. But I must beg for time to pack up a few clothes
."
"By all means," said Mrs. Transome. "We are not at all pressed."
When Esther had left the room, Harold said, "Apart from our immediatereason for coming, Mr. Lyon, I could have wished to see you about theseunhappy consequences of the election contest. But you will understandthat I have been much preoccupied with private affairs."
"You have well said that the consequences are unhappy, sir. And but fora reliance on something more than human calculation, I know not which Ishould most bewail--the scandal which wrong-dealing has brought on rightprinciples or the snares which it laid for the feet of a young man whois dear to me. 'One soweth, and another reapeth,' is a verity thatapplies to evil as well as good."
"You are referring to Felix Holt. I have not neglected steps to securethe best legal help for the prisoners: but I am given to understand thatHolt refuses any aid from me. I hope he will not go rashly to work inspeaking in his own defence without any legal instruction. It is anopprobrium of our law that no counsel is allowed to plead for theprisoner in cases of felony. A ready tongue may do a man as much harm asgood in a court of justice. He piques himself on making a display, anddisplays a little too much."
"Sir, you know him not," said the little minister, in his deeper tone."He would not accept, even if it were accorded, a defense wherein thetruth was screened or avoided,--not from a vainglorious spirit ofself-exhibition, for he hath a singular directness and simplicity ofspeech; but from an averseness to a profession wherein a man may withoutshame seek to justify the wicked for reward, and take away therighteousness of the righteous from him."
"It's a pity a fine young fellow should do himself harm by fanaticalnotions of that sort. I could at least have procured the advantage offirst-rate consultation. He didn't look to me like a dreamy personage."
"Nor is he dreamy; rather, his excess lies in being too practical."
"Well, I hope you will not encourage him in such irrationality; thequestion is not one of misrepresentation, but of adjusting fact, so asto raise it to the power of evidence. Don't you see that?"
"I do, I do. But I distrust not Felix Holt's discernment in regard tohis own case. He builds not on doubtful things and hath no illusoryhopes; on the contrary, he is of a too-scornful incredulity where Iwould fain see a more childlike faith. But he will hold no beliefwithout action corresponding thereto; and the occasion of his return tothis, his native place, at a time which has proved fatal, was no otherthan his resolve to hinder the sale of some drugs, which had chieflysupported his mother, but which his better knowledge showed him to bepernicious to the human frame. He undertook to support her by his ownlabor; but, sir, I pray you to mark--and old as I am, I will not denythat this young man instructs me herein--I pray you to mark thepoisonous confusion of good and evil which is the wide-spreading effectof vicious practices. Through the use of undue electioneeringmeans--concerning which, however, I do not accuse you farther than ofhaving acted the part of him who washes his hands when he delivers up toothers the exercise of an iniquitous power--Felix Holt is, I will notscruple to say, the innocent victim of a riot; and that deed of stricthonesty, whereby he took on himself the charge of his aged mother, seemsnow to have deprived her of sufficient bread, and is even an occasion ofreproach to him from the weaker brethren."
"I shall be proud to supply her as amply as you think desirable," saidHarold, not enjoying this lecture.
"I will pray you to speak of this question with my daughter, who, itappears, may herself have large means at command, and would desire tominister to Mrs. Holt's needs with all friendship and delicacy. For thepresent I can take care that she lacks nothing essential."
As Mr. Lyon was speaking, Esther re-entered, equipped for her drive. Shelaid her hand on her father's arm and said, "You will let my pupils knowat once, will you, father?"
"Doubtless, my dear," said the old man, trembling a little under thefeeling that this departure of Esther's was a crisis. Nothing againwould be as it had been in their mutual life. But he feared that he wasbeing mastered by a too tender self-regard, and struggled to keephimself calm.
Mrs. Transome and Harold had both risen.
"If you are quite ready, Miss Lyon," said Harold, divining that thefather and daughter would like to have an unobserved moment, "I willtake my mother to the carriage and come back for you."
When they were alone, Esther put her hands on her father's shoulders andkissed him.
"This will not be a grief to you, I hope, father? You think it is betterthat I should go?"
"Nay, child, I am weak. But I would fain be capable of a joy quite apartfrom the accidents of my aged earthly existence, which, indeed, is apetty and almost dried-up fountain--whereas to the receptive soul theriver of life pauses not, nor is diminished."
"Perhaps you will see Felix Holt again and tell him all?"
"Shall I say aught to him for you?"
"Oh, no; only that Job Tudge has a little flannel shirt and a box oflozenges," said Esther, smiling. "Ah, I hear Mr. Transome coming back. Imust say good-bye to Lyddy, else she will cry over my hard heart."
In spite of all the grave thoughts that had been, Esther felt it a verypleasant as well as new experience to be led to the carriage by HaroldTransome, to be seated on soft cushions, and bowled along, looked atadmiringly and deferentially by a person opposite, whom it was agreeableto look at in return, and talked to with suavity and liveliness. Towardwhat prospect was that easy carriage really leading her? She could notbe always asking herself Mentor-like questions. Her young, bright naturewas rather weary of the sadness that had grown heavier in these lastweeks, like a chill white mist hopelessly veiling the day. Her fortunewas beginning to appear worthy of being called good fortune. She hadcome to a new stage in her journey; a new day had arisen on new scenes,and her young untired spirit was full of curiosity.