CHAPTER XI.
LUKE ROWAN TAKES HIS TEA QUITE LIKE A STEADY YOUNG MAN.
It was the custom of the Miss Tappitts, during these long midsummerdays, to start upon their evening walk at about seven o'clock, thehour for the family gathering round the tea-table being fixed at six.But, in accordance with the same custom, dinner at the brewery wasusually eaten at one. At this immediate time with which we are nowdealing, dinner had been postponed till three, out of compliment toMrs. Rowan, Mrs. Tappitt considering three o'clock more fashionablethan one; and consequently the afternoon habits of the family weredisarranged. Half-past seven, it was thought, would be a becominghour for tea, and therefore the young ladies were driven to go out atfive o'clock, while the sun was still hot in the heavens.
"No," said Luke, in answer to his sister's invitation; "I don't thinkI will mind walking to-day: you are all going so early." He wassitting at the moment after dinner with his glass of brewery portwine before him.
"The young ladies must be very unhappy that their hours can't bemade to suit you," said Mrs. Tappitt, and the tone of her voice wassarcastic and acid.
"I think we can do without him," said Cherry, laughing.
"Of course we can," said Augusta, who was not laughing.
"But you might as well come all the same," said Mary.
"There's metal more attractive somewhere else," said Augusta.
"I cannot bear to see so much fuss made with the young men," saidMrs. Tappitt. "We never did it when I was young. Did we, Mrs. Rowan?"
"I don't think there's much change," said Mrs. Rowan; "we used to bevery glad to get the young men when we could, and to do without themwhen we couldn't."
"And that's just the way with us," said Cherry.
"Speak for yourself," said Augusta.
During all this time Mr. Tappitt spoke never a word. He also sippedhis glass of wine, and as he sipped it he brooded over his wrath.Who were these Rowans that they should have come about his house andpremises, and forced everything out of its proper shape and position?The young man sat there as though he were lord of everything,--soTappitt declared to himself; and his own wife was snubbed in her ownparlour as soon as she opened her mouth. There was an uncomfortableatmosphere of discord in the room, which gradually pervaded them all,and made even the girls feel that things were going wrong.
Mrs. Tappitt rose from her chair, and made a stiff bow across thetable to her guest, understanding that that was the proper way inwhich to effect a retreat into the drawing-room; whereupon Lukeopened the door, and the ladies went. "Thank you, sir," said Mrs.Tappitt very solemnly as she passed by him. Mrs. Rowan, going first,had given him a loving little nod of recognition, and Mary hadpinched his arm. Martha uttered a word of thanks, intended forconciliation; Augusta passed him in silence with her nose in the air;and Cherry, as she went by, turned upon him a look of dismay. Hereturned Cherry's look with a shake of his head, and both of themunderstood that things were going wrong.
"I don't think I'll take any more wine, sir," said Rowan.
"Do as you like," said Tappitt. "It's there if you choose to takeit."
"It seems to me, Mr. Tappitt, that you want to quarrel with me," saidLuke.
"You can form your own opinion about that. I'm not bound to tell mymind to everybody."
"Oh, no; certainly not. But it's very unpleasant going on in that wayin the same house. I'm thinking particularly of Mrs. Tappitt and thegirls."
"You needn't trouble yourself about them at all. You may leave me totake care of them."
Luke had not sat down since the ladies left the room, and nowdetermined that he had better not do so. "I think I'll say goodafternoon," said Rowan.
"Good day to you," said Tappitt, with his face turned away, and hiseyes fixed upon one of the open windows.
"Well, Mr. Tappitt, if I have to say good-bye to you in that way inyour own house, of course it must be for the last time. I have notmeant to offend you, and I don't think I've given you ground foroffence."
"You don't, don't you?"
"Certainly not. If, unfortunately, there must be any disagreementbetween us about matters of business, I don't see why that should bebrought into private life."
"Look here, young man," said Tappitt, turning upon him. "You lecturedme in my counting-house this morning, and I don't intend that youshall lecture me here also. I'm drinking my own wine in my ownparlour, and choose to drink it in peace and quietness."
"Very well, sir; I will not disturb you much longer. Perhaps you willmake my apologies to Mrs. Tappitt, and tell her how much obliged I amby her hospitality, but that I will not trespass upon it any longer.I'll get a bed at the Dragon, and I'll write a line to my mother orsister." Then Luke left the room, took his hat up from the hall, andmade his way out of the house.
He had much to occupy his mind at the present moment. He felt that hewas being turned out of Mr. Tappitt's house, but would not much haveregarded that if no one was concerned in it but Mr. Tappitt himself.He had, however, been on very intimate terms with all the ladies ofthe family; even for Mrs. Tappitt he had felt a friendship; and forthe girls--especially for Cherry--he had learned to entertain an easybrotherly affection, which had not weighed much with him as it grew,but which it was not in his nature to throw off without annoyance. Hehad acknowledged to himself, as soon as he found himself among them,that the Tappitts did not possess, in their ways and habits of life,quite all that he should desire in his dearest and most intimatefriends. I do not know that he had thought much of this; but he hadfelt it. Nevertheless he had determined that he would like them. Heintended to make his way in life as a tradesman, and boldly resolvedthat he would not be above his trade. His mother sometimes remindedhim, with perhaps not the truest pride, that he was a gentleman.In answer to this he had once or twice begged her to define theword, and then there had been some slight, very slight, disagreementbetween them. In the end the mother always gave way to the son; asto whom she believed that the sun shone with more special brilliancyfor him than for any other of God's creatures. Now, as he left thebrewery house, he remembered how intimate he had been with them allbut a few hours since, arranging matters for their ball, and givingorders about the place as though he had belonged to the family. Hehad allowed himself to be at home with them, and to be one of them.He was by nature impulsive, and had thus fallen instantly into theintimacy which had been permitted to him. Now he was turned out ofthe house; and as he walked across the churchyard to bespeak a bedfor himself at the inn, and write the necessary note to his sister,he was melancholy and almost unhappy. He felt sure that he was rightin his views regarding the business, and could not accuse himselfof any fault in his manner of making them known to Mr. Tappitt; but,nevertheless, he was ill at ease with himself in that he had givenoffence. And with all these thoughts were mingled other thoughtsas to Rachel Ray. He did not in the least imagine that any of theanger felt towards him at the brewery had been caused by his openadmiration of Rachel. It had never occurred to him that Mrs. Tappitthad regarded him as a possible son-in-law, or that, having soregarded him, she could hold him in displeasure because he had failedto fall into her views. He had never regarded himself as being ofvalue as a possible future husband, or entertained the idea that hewas a prize. He had taken hold in good faith of the Tappitt righthand which had been stretched out to him, and was now grieved thatthat hand should be suddenly withdrawn.
But as he was impulsive, so also was he light-hearted, and when hehad chosen his bedroom and written the note to Mary, in which hedesired her to pack up his belongings and send them to him, he wasalmost at ease as regarded that matter. Old Tappitt was, as he saidto himself, an old ass, and if he chose to make that brewery businessa cause of quarrel no one could help it. Mary was bidden in thenote to say very civil things to Mrs. Tappitt; but, at the sametime, to speak out the truth boldly. "Tell her," said he, "that I amconstrained to leave the house because Mr. Tappitt and I cannot agreeat the present moment about matters of business." When this was donehe looked at his wat
ch, and started off on his walk to Bragg's End.
It has been said that Rowan had not made up his mind to ask Rachelto be his wife,--that he had not made up his mind on this matter,although he was going to Bragg's End in a mood which would veryprobably bring him to such a conclusion. It will, I fear, be thoughtfrom this that he was light in purpose as well as light in heart; butI am not sure that he was open to any special animadversion of thatnature. It is the way of men to carry on such affairs without anycomplete arrangement of their own plans or even wishes. He knew thathe admired Rachel and liked her. I doubt whether he had ever yetdeclared to himself that he loved her. I doubt whether he had done sowhen he started on that walk,--thinking it probable, however, that hehad persuaded himself of the fact before he reached the cottage door.He had already, as we know, said words to Rachel which he shouldnot have said unless he intended to seek her as his wife;--he hadspoken words and done things of that nature, being by no meansperfect in all his ways. But he had so spoken and so acted withoutpremeditation, and now was about to follow up those little wordsand little acts to their natural consequence,--also without muchpremeditation.
Rachel had told her mother, on her return from the ball, that LukeRowan had promised to call; and had offered to take herself off fromthe cottage for the whole afternoon, if her mother thought it wrongthat she should see him. Mrs. Ray had never felt herself to be ingreater difficulty.
"I don't know that you ought to run away from him," said she: "andbesides, where are you to go to?"
Rachel said at once that if her absence were desirable she would findwhither to betake herself. "I'd stay upstairs in my bedroom, for thematter of that, mamma."
"He'd be sure to know it," said Mrs. Rowan, speaking of the young manas though he were much to be feared;--as indeed he was much feared byher.
"If you don't think I ought to go, perhaps it would be best that Ishould stay," said Rachel, at last, speaking in a very low tone, butstill with some firmness in her voice.
"I'm sure I don't know what I'm to say to him," said Mrs. Ray.
"That must depend upon what he says to you, mamma," said Rachel.
After that there was no further talk of running away; but the morningdid not pass with them lightly or pleasantly. They made an effortto sit quietly at their work, and to talk over the doings at Mrs.Tappitt's ball; but this coming of the young man threw its shadow,more or less, over everything. They could not talk, or even look ateach other, as they would have talked and looked had no such adventbeen expected. They dined at one, as was their custom, and afterdinner I think it probable that each of them stood before her glasswith more care than she would have done on ordinary days. It was noordinary day, and Mrs. Ray certainly put on a clean cap.
"Will that collar do?" she said to Rachel.
"Oh, yes, mamma," said Rachel, almost angrily. She also had taken herlittle precautions, but she could not endure to have such precautionsacknowledged, even by a word.
The afternoon was very tedious. I don't know why Luke should havebeen expected exactly at three; but Mrs. Ray had, I think, made upher mind that he might be looked for at that time with the greatestcertainty. But at three he was sitting down to dinner, and even athalf-past five had not as yet left his room at the "Dragon."
"I suppose that we can't have tea till he's been," said Mrs. Ray,just at that hour; "that is, if he does come at all."
Rachel felt that her mother was vexed, because she suspected that Mr.Rowan was not about to keep his word.
"Don't let his coming make any difference, mamma," said Rachel. "Iwill go and get tea."
"Wait a few minutes longer, my dear," said Mrs. Ray.
It was all very well for Rachel to beg that it might make "nodifference." It did make a very great deal of difference.
"I think I'll go over and see Mrs. Sturt for a few minutes," saidRachel, getting up.
"Pray don't, my dear,--pray don't; I should never know what to say tohim if he should come while you were away."
So Rachel again sat down.
She had just, for the second time, declared her intention of gettingtea, having now resolved that no weakness on her mother's part shouldhinder her, when Mrs. Ray, from her seat near the window, saw theyoung man coming over the green. He was walking very slowly, swinginga big stick as he came, and had taken himself altogether away fromthe road, almost to the verge of Mrs. Sturt's farmyard. "There heis," said Mrs. Ray, with a little start. Rachel, who was strugglinghard to retain her composure, could not resist her impulse to jumpup and look out upon the green from behind her mother's shoulder.But she did this from some little distance inside the room, sothat no one might possibly see her from the green. "Yes; therehe is, certainly," and, having thus identified their visitor,she immediately sat down again. "He's talking to Farmer Sturt'sploughboy," said Mrs. Ray. "He's asking where we live," said Rachel."He's never been here before."
Rowan, having completed his conversation with the ploughboy, whichby the way seemed to Mrs. Ray to have been longer than was necessaryfor its alleged purpose, came boldly across the green, and withoutpausing for a moment made his way through the cottage gate. Mrs. Raycaught her breath, and could not keep herself quite steady in herchair. Rachel, feeling that something must be done, got up from herseat and went quickly out into the passage. She knew that the frontdoor was open, and she was prepared to meet Rowan in the hall.
"I told you I should call," said he. "I hope you'll let me come in."
"Mamma will be very glad to see you," she said. Then she brought himup and introduced him. Mrs. Ray rose from her chair and curtseyed,muttering something as to its being a long way for him to walk outthere to the cottage.
"I said I should come, Mrs. Ray, if Miss Ray did not make herappearance at the brewery in the morning. We had such a nice party,and of course one wants to talk it over."
"I hope Mrs. Tappitt is quite well after it,--and the girls," saidRachel.
"Oh, yes. You know we kept it up two hours after you were gone. Ican't say Mr. Tappitt is quite right this morning."
"Is he ill?" asked Mrs. Ray.
"Well, no; not ill, I think, but I fancy that the party put him outa little. Middle-aged gentlemen don't like to have all their thingspoked away anywhere. Ladies don't mind it, I fancy."
"Ladies know where to find them, as it is they who do the pokingaway," said Rachel. "But I'm sorry about Mr. Tappitt."
"I'm sorry, too, for he's a good-natured sort of a man when he'snot put out. I say, Mrs. Ray, what a very pretty place you have gothere."
"We think so because we're proud of our flowers."
"I do almost all the gardening myself," said Rachel.
"There's nothing I like so much as a garden, only I never canremember the names of the flowers. They've got such grand names downhere. When I was a boy, in Warwickshire, they used to have nothingbut roses and sweetwilliams. One could remember them."
"We haven't got anything very grand here," said Rachel. Soon afterthat they were sauntering out among the little paths and Rachel waspicking flowers for him. She felt no difficulty in doing it, as hermother stood by her, though she would not for worlds have given himeven a rose if they'd been alone.
"I wonder whether Mr. Rowan would come in and have some tea," saidMrs. Ray.
"Oh, wouldn't I," said Rowan, "if I were asked?"
Rachel was highly delighted with her mother, not so much on accountof her courtesy to their guest, as that she had shown herself equalto the occasion, and had behaved, in an unabashed manner, as amistress of a house should do. Mrs. Ray had been in such dread of theyoung man's coming, that Rachel had feared she would be speechless.Now the ice was broken, and she would do very well. The merit,however, did not belong to Mrs. Ray, but to Rowan. He had the gift ofmaking himself at home with people, and had done much towards winningthe widow's heart, when, after an interval of ten minutes, they twofollowed Rachel into the house. Rachel then had her hat on, and wasabout to go over the green to the farmer's house. "Mamma, I'll justrun over to Mrs. Sturt'
s for some cream," said she.
"Mayn't I go with you?" said Rowan.
"Certainly not," said Rachel. "You'd frighten Mrs. Sturt out of allher composure, and we should never get the cream." Then Rachel wentoff, and Rowan was again left with her mother.
He had seated himself at her request in an arm-chair, and there for aminute or two he sat silent. Mrs. Ray was busy with the tea-things,but she suddenly felt that she was oppressed by the stranger'spresence. While Rachel had been there, and even when they had beenwalking among the flower-beds, she had been quite comfortable; butnow the knowledge that he was there, in the room with her, as he satsilent in the chair, was becoming alarming. Had she been right to askhim to stay for tea? He looked and spoke like a sheep; but then, wasit not known to all the world that wolves dressed themselves often inthat guise, so that they might carry out their wicked purposes? Hadshe not been imprudent? And then there was the immediate trouble ofhis silence. What was she to say to him to break it? That trouble,however, was soon brought to an end by Rowan himself. "Mrs. Ray,"said he, "I think your daughter is the nicest girl I ever saw in mylife."
Mrs. Ray instantly put down the tea-caddy which she had in her hand,and started, with a slight gasp in her throat, as though cold waterhad been thrown over her. At the instant she said nothing. What wasshe to say in answer to so violent a proposition?
"Upon my word I do," said Luke, who was too closely engaged with hisown thoughts and his own feelings to pay much immediate attentionto Mrs. Ray. "It isn't only that she's good-looking, but there'ssomething,--I don't know what it is,--but she's just the sort ofperson I like. I told her I should come to-day, and I have come onpurpose to say this to you. I hope you won't be angry with me."
"Pray, sir, don't say anything to her to turn her head."
"If I understand her, Mrs. Ray, it wouldn't be very easy to turn herhead. But suppose she has turned mine?"
"Ah, no. Young gentlemen like you are in no danger of that sort ofthing. But for a poor girl--"
"I don't think you quite understand me, Mrs. Ray. I didn't meananything about danger. My danger would be that she shouldn't caretwopence for me; and I don't suppose she ever will. But what I wantto know is whether you would object to my coming over here and seeingher. I don't doubt but she might do much better."
"Oh dear no," said Mrs. Ray.
"But I should like to have my chance."
"You've not said anything to her yet, Mr. Rowan?"
"Well, no; I can't say I have. I meant to do so last night at theparty, but she wouldn't stay and hear me. I don't think she caresvery much about me, but I'll take my chance if you'll let me."
"Here she is," said Mrs. Ray. Then she again went to work with thetea-caddy, so that Rachel might be led to believe that nothingspecial had occurred in her absence. Nevertheless, had Rowan beenaway, every word would have been told to her.
"I hope you like clotted cream," said Rachel, taking off her hat.Luke declared that it was the one thing in all the world that heliked best, and that he had come into Devonshire with the expressobject of feasting upon it all his life. "Other Devonshire daintieswere not," he said, "so much to his taste. He had another object inlife. He intended to put down cider."
"I beg you won't do anything of the kind," said Mrs. Ray, "for Ialways drink it at dinner." Then Rowan explained how that he was abrewer, and that he looked upon it as his duty to put down so poor abeverage as cider. The people of Devonshire, he averred, knew nothingof beer, and it was his ambition to teach them. Mrs. Ray grew eagerin the defence of cider, and then they again became comfortable andhappy. "I never heard of such a thing in my life," said Mrs. Ray."What are the farmers to do with all their apple trees? It would bethe ruin of the whole country."
"I don't suppose it can be done all at once," said Luke.
"Not even by Mr. Rowan," said Rachel.
He sat there for an hour after their tea, and Mrs. Ray had in truthbecome fond of him. When he spoke to Rachel he did so with the utmostrespect, and he seemed to be much more intimate with the mother thanwith the daughter. Mrs. Ray's mind was laden with the burden of whathe had said in Rachel's absence, and with the knowledge that shewould have to discuss it when Rowan was gone; but she felt herself tobe happy while he remained, and had begun to hope that he would notgo quite yet. Rachel also was perfectly happy. She said very little,but thought much of her different meetings with him,--of the arm inthe clouds, of the promise of his friendship, of her first dance, ofthe little fraud by which he had secured her company at supper, andthen of those words he had spoken when he detained her after supperin the hall. She knew that she liked him well, but had feared thatsuch liking might not be encouraged. But what could be nicer thanthis,--to sit and listen to him in her mother's presence? Now shewas not afraid of him. Now she feared no one's eyes. Now she wasdisturbed by no dread lest she might be sinning against rules ofpropriety. There was no Mrs. Tappitt by, to rebuke her with an angrylook.
"Oh, Mr. Rowan, I'm sure you need not go yet," she said, when he gotup and sought his hat.
"Mr. Rowan, my dear, has got other things to do besides talking tous."
"Oh no, he has not. He can't go and brew after eight o'clock."
"When my brewery is really going, I mean to brew all night; but justat present I'm the idlest man in Baslehurst. When I go away I shallsit upon Cawston Bridge and smoke for an hour, till some of theBriggses of the town come and drive me away. But I won't trouble youany longer. Good night, Mrs. Ray."
"Good night, Mr. Rowan."
"And I may come and see you again?"
Mrs. Ray was silent. "I'm sure mamma will be very happy," saidRachel.
"I want to hear her say so herself," said Luke.
Poor woman! She felt that she was driven into a position from whichany safe escape was quite impossible. She could not tell her guestthat he would not be welcome. She could not even pretend to speak tohim with cold words after having chatted with him so pleasantly, andwith such cordial good humour; and yet, were she to tell him thathe might come, she would be granting him permission to appear thereas Rachel's lover. If Rachel had been away, she would have appealedto his mercy, and have thrown herself, in the spirit, on her kneesbefore him. But she could not do this in Rachel's presence.
"I suppose business will prevent your coming so far out of town againvery soon."
It was a foolish subterfuge; a vain, silly attempt.
"Oh dear no," said he; "I always walk somewhere every day, and youshall see me again before long." Then he turned to Rachel. "Shall yoube at Mr. Tappitt's to-morrow?"
"I don't quite know," said Rachel.
"I suppose I might as well tell you the truth and have done with it,"said Luke, laughing. "I hate secrets among friends. The fact is Mr.Tappitt has turned me out of his house."
"Turned you out?" said Mrs. Ray.
"Oh, Mr. Rowan!" said Rachel.
"That's the truth," said Rowan. "It's about that horrid brewery. Hemeans to be honest, and so do I. But in such matters it is so hard toknow what the right of each party really is. I fear we shall have togo to law. But there's a lady coming in, so I'll tell you the rest ofit to-morrow. I want you to know it all, Mrs. Ray, and to understandit too."
"A lady!" said Mrs. Ray, looking out through the open window. "Ohdear, if here isn't Dorothea!"
Then Rowan shook hands with them both, pressing Rachel's very warmly,close under her mother's eyes; and as he went out of the house intothe garden, he passed Mrs. Prime on the walk, and took off his hat toher with great composure.