XVII. TWO FAINTING FITS AND A BEWILDERMENT
Meanwhile Miller Loveday was expecting the pair with interest; and aboutfive o'clock, after repeated outlooks, he saw two specks the size ofcaraway seeds on the far line of ridge where the sunlit white of the roadmet the blue of the sky. Then the remainder parts of Bob and his ladybecame visible, and then the whole vehicle, end on, and he heard the dryrattle of the wheels on the dusty road. Miller Loveday's plan, as far ashe had formed any, was that Robert and his wife should live with him inthe millhouse until Mrs. Garland made up her mind to join him there; inwhich event her present house would be made over to the young couple.Upon all grounds, he wished to welcome becomingly the woman of his son'schoice, and came forward promptly as they drew up at the door.
'What a lovely place you've got here!' said Miss Johnson, when the millerhad received her from the captain. 'A real stream of water, a real mill-wheel, and real fowls, and everything!'
'Yes, 'tis real enough,' said Loveday, looking at the river with balancedsentiments; 'and so you will say when you've lived here a bit as mis'ess,and had the trouble of claning the furniture.'
At this Miss Johnson looked modest, and continued to do so till Anne, notknowing they were there, came round the corner of the house, with herprayer-book in her hand, having just arrived from church. Bob turned andsmiled to her, at which Miss Johnson looked glum. How long she wouldhave remained in that phase is unknown, for just then her ears wereassailed by a loud bass note from the other side, causing her to jumpround.
'O la! what dreadful thing is it?' she exclaimed, and beheld a cow ofLoveday's, of the name of Crumpler, standing close to her shoulder. Itbeing about milking-time, she had come to look up David and hasten on theoperation.
'O, what a horrid bull!--it did frighten me so. I hope I shan't faint,'said Matilda.
The miller immediately used the formula which has been uttered by theproprietors of live stock ever since Noah's time. 'She won't hurt ye.Hoosh, Crumpler! She's as timid as a mouse, ma'am.'
But as Crumpler persisted in making another terrific inquiry for David,Matilda could not help closing her eyes and saying, 'O, I shall be goredto death!' her head falling back upon Bob's shoulder, which--seeing theurgent circumstances, and knowing her delicate nature--he hadprovidentially placed in a position to catch her. Anne Garland, who hadbeen standing at the corner of the house, not knowing whether to go backor come on, at this felt her womanly sympathies aroused. She ran anddipped her handkerchief into the splashing mill-tail, and with it dampedMatilda's face. But as her eyes still remained closed, Bob, to increasethe effect, took the handkerchief from Anne and wrung it out on thebridge of Matilda's nose, whence it ran over the rest of her face in astream.
'O, Captain Loveday!' said Anne, 'the water is running over her greensilk handkerchief, and into her pretty reticule!'
'There--if I didn't think so!' exclaimed Matilda, opening her eyes,starting up, and promptly pulling out her own handkerchief, with whichshe wiped away the drops, and an unimportant trifle of her complexion,assisted by Anne, who, in spite of her background of antagonisticemotions, could not help being interested.
'That's right!' said the miller, his spirits reviving with the revival ofMatilda. 'The lady is not used to country life; are you, ma'am?'
'I am not,' replied the sufferer. 'All is so strange about here!'
Suddenly there spread into the firmament, from the direction of thedown:--
'Ra, ta, ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ra, ta, ta!'
'O dear, dear! more hideous country sounds, I suppose?' she inquired,with another start.
'O no,' said the miller cheerfully. ''Tis only my son John's trumpeterchaps at the camp of dragoons just above us, a-blowing Mess, or Feed, orPicket, or some other of their vagaries. John will be much pleased totell you the meaning on't when he comes down. He's trumpet-major, as youmay know, ma'am.'
'O yes; you mean Captain Loveday's brother. Dear Bob has mentioned him.'
'If you come round to Widow Garland's side of the house, you can see thecamp,' said the miller.
'Don't force her; she's tired with her long journey,' said Mrs. Garlandhumanely, the widow having come out in the general wish to see CaptainBob's choice. Indeed, they all behaved towards her as if she were atender exotic, which their crude country manners might seriously injure.
She went into the house, accompanied by Mrs. Garland and her daughter;though before leaving Bob she managed to whisper in his ear, 'Don't tellthem I came by waggon, will you, dear?'--a request which was quiteneedless, for Bob had long ago determined to keep that a dead secret; notbecause it was an uncommon mode of travel, but simply that it was hardlythe usual conveyance for a gorgeous lady to her bridal.
As the men had a feeling that they would be superfluous indoors just atpresent, the miller assisted David in taking the horse round to thestables, Bob following, and leaving Matilda to the women. Indoors, MissJohnson admired everything: the new parrots and marmosets, the blackbeams of the ceiling, the double-corner cupboard with the glass doors,through which gleamed the remainders of sundry china sets acquired byBob's mother in her housekeeping--two-handled sugar-basins, no-handledtea-cups, a tea-pot like a pagoda, and a cream-jug in the form of aspotted cow. This sociability in their visitor was returned by Mrs.Garland and Anne; and Miss Johnson's pleasing habit of partly dyingwhenever she heard any unusual bark or bellow added to her piquancy intheir eyes. But conversation, as such, was naturally at first of anervous, tentative kind, in which, as in the works of some minor poets,the sense was considerably led by the sound.
'You get the sea-breezes here, no doubt?'
'O yes, dear; when the wind is that way.'
'Do you like windy weather?'
'Yes; though not now, for it blows down the young apples.'
'Apples are plentiful, it seems. You country-folk call St. Swithin'stheir christening day, if it rains?'
'Yes, dear. Ah me! I have not been to a christening for these manyyears; the baby's name was George, I remember--after the King.'
'I hear that King George is still staying at the town here. I _hope_he'll stay till I have seen him!'
'He'll wait till the corn turns yellow; he always does.'
'How _very_ fashionable yellow is getting for gloves just now!'
'Yes. Some persons wear them to the elbow, I hear.'
'Do they? I was not aware of that. I struck my elbow last week so hardagainst the door of my aunt's mansion that I feel the ache now.'
Before they were quite overwhelmed by the interest of this discourse, themiller and Bob came in. In truth, Mrs. Garland found the office in whichhe had placed her--that of introducing a strange woman to a house whichwas not the widow's own--a rather awkward one, and yet almost anecessity. There was no woman belonging to the house except thatwondrous compendium of usefulness, the intermittent maid-servant, whomLoveday had, for appearances, borrowed from Mrs. Garland, and Mrs.Garland was in the habit of borrowing from the girl's mother. And as forthe demi-woman David, he had been informed as peremptorily as Pharaoh'sbaker that the office of housemaid and bedmaker was taken from him, andwould be given to this girl till the wedding was over, and Bob's wifetook the management into her own hands.
They all sat down to high tea, Anne and her mother included, and thecaptain sitting next to Miss Johnson. Anne had put a brave face upon thematter--outwardly, at least--and seemed in a fair way of subduing anylingering sentiment which Bob's return had revived. During the evening,and while they still sat over the meal, John came down on a hurriedvisit, as he had promised, ostensibly on purpose to be introduced to hisintended sister-in-law, but much more to get a word and a smile from hisbeloved Anne. Before they saw him, they heard the trumpet-major's smartstep coming round the corner of the house, and in a moment his formdarkened the door. As it was Sunday, he appeared in his full-dress lacedcoat, white waistcoat and breeches, and towering plume, the latter ofwhich he instantly lowered, as much from necessity as good manners, the
beam in the mill-house ceiling having a tendency to smash and ruin allsuch head-gear without warning.
'John, we've been hoping you would come down,' said the miller, 'and sowe have kept the tay about on purpose. Draw up, and speak to Mrs.Matilda Johnson. . . . Ma'am, this is Robert's brother.'
'Your humble servant, ma'am,' said the trumpet-major gallantly.
As it was getting dusk in the low, small-paned room, he instinctivelymoved towards Miss Johnson as he spoke, who sat with her back to thewindow. He had no sooner noticed her features than his helmet nearlyfell from his hand; his face became suddenly fixed, and his naturalcomplexion took itself off, leaving a greenish yellow in its stead. Theyoung person, on her part, had no sooner looked closely at him than shesaid weakly, 'Robert's brother!' and changed colour yet more rapidly thanthe soldier had done. The faintness, previously half counterfeit, seizedon her now in real earnest.
'I don't feel well,' she said, suddenly rising by an effort. 'This warmday has quite upset me!'
There was a regular collapse of the tea-party, like that of the Hamletplay scene. Bob seized his sweetheart and carried her upstairs, themiller exclaiming, 'Ah, she's terribly worn by the journey! I thoughtshe was when I saw her nearly go off at the blare of the cow. No womanwould have been frightened at that if she'd been up to her naturalstrength.'
'That, and being so very shy of men, too, must have made John's handsomeregimentals quite overpowering to her, poor thing,' added Mrs. Garland,following the catastrophic young lady upstairs, whose indisposition wasthis time beyond question. And yet, by some perversity of the heart, shewas as eager now to make light of her faintness as she had been to makemuch of it two or three hours ago.
The miller and John stood like straight sticks in the room the others hadquitted, John's face being hastily turned towards a caricature ofBuonaparte on the wall that he had not seen more than a hundred and fiftytimes before.
'Come, sit down and have a dish of tea, anyhow,' said his father at last.'She'll soon be right again, no doubt.'
'Thanks; I don't want any tea,' said John quickly. And, indeed, he didnot, for he was in one gigantic ache from head to foot.
The light had been too dim for anybody to notice his amazement; and notknowing where to vent it, the trumpet-major said he was going out for aminute. He hastened to the bakehouse; but David being there, he went tothe pantry; but the maid being there, he went to the cart-shed; but acouple of tramps being there, he went behind a row of French beans in thegarden, where he let off an ejaculation the most pious that he haduttered that Sabbath day: 'Heaven! what's to be done!'
And then he walked wildly about the paths of the dusky garden, where thetrickling of the brooks seemed loud by comparison with the stillnessaround; treading recklessly on the cracking snails that had come forth tofeed, and entangling his spurs in the long grass till the rowels werechoked with its blades. Presently he heard another person approaching,and his brother's shape appeared between the stubbard tree and the hedge.
'O, is it you?' said the mate.
'Yes. I am--taking a little air.'
'She is getting round nicely again; and as I am not wanted indoors justnow, I am going into the village to call upon a friend or two I have notbeen able to speak to as yet.'
John took his brother Bob's hand. Bob rather wondered why.
'All right, old boy,' he said. 'Going into the village? You'll be backagain, I suppose, before it gets very late?'
'O yes,' said Captain Bob cheerfully, and passed out of the garden.
John allowed his eyes to follow his brother till his shape could not beseen, and then he turned and again walked up and down.