Part 19 (1/2)
The following day pa.s.sed very nearly in the same manner, excepting that the three girls separated immediately after breakfast, and did not meet again till luncheon-time. On the third, f.a.n.n.y was the first to leave the breakfast-room; and Miss Cartwright and Rosalind being left together, the former said,
”I suppose we owe our repose from morning and evening ranting to you, Miss Torrington?”
”I certainly did not approve it, Miss Cartwright, and I took the liberty of telling your father so.”
”You were undoubtedly very right and very wise, and I dare say you feel some inward satisfaction at your success. Mr. Cartwright has really shown great deference to your opinion by so immediately abandoning, at your request, so very favourite an occupation.”
Rosalind was about to reply, when Miss Cartwright changed the conversation by abruptly saying,
”Will you take a stroll with me this morning, Miss Torrington?”
”Yes, certainly, if you wish it;--but I think we shall find it very warm.”
”Oh! no. I will lead you a very nice shady walk to the prettiest and most sheltered little thicket in the world. Let us put on our bonnets directly;--shall we?”
”I will not delay you a moment,” said Rosalind. ”Shall I ask f.a.n.n.y to go with us?”
”Why no,” replied Miss Cartwright; ”I think you had better not;--the chances are ten to one against her finding it convenient. You know she is so fond of solitary study----”
”I believe you are right,” said Rosalind; and the young ladies parted, to meet again a few minutes after, with bonnets and parasols, at the hall-door.
”And which way are we to go to find this welcome shade?” said Rosalind, holding her parasol low down to shelter her pretty face. ”The sun is almost intolerable.”
”This way,” said Henrietta, turning aside from the drive in a direction which soon brought them to a thickly-planted ride that surrounded the Park. ”We shall find it delightful here.”
It was an hour which, in the month of July, few ladies would choose for walking; but Miss Torrington politely exerted herself to converse, though she secretly longed to be lying silent and alone on the sofa in her own dressing-room, with no greater exertion than was necessary for the perusal of--
”The dear pages of some new romance.”
Henrietta, however, only answered her dryly and shortly, and presently said,
”I should be really very much obliged to you, Miss Torrington, if you would not speak to me any more. Just listen to the blackbirds, will you?--depend upon it we can neither of us express ourselves one half so well as they do.”
Rosalind willingly submitted to this request; and the young ladies walked onward, producing no other sound than the occasional brus.h.i.+ng of their dresses against the underwood, which at every step became thicker, rendering the path almost too narrow for two to walk abreast.
”Now, let us just turn down through this little opening,” said Henrietta in a whisper; ”and pray do not speak to me.”
Rosalind, who began to believe that she must have some meaning for her strange manner of proceeding, followed her in perfect silence; and they had not gone far into the intricacies of the tangled copse, before she heard the sound of a human voice at no great distance from her.
Henrietta, who was in advance, turned round and laid her finger on her lips. The caution was not needed: Rosalind had already recognised the tones of Mr. Cartwright, and a few more silent steps brought them to a spot thickly surrounded on all sides, but from whence they could look out upon a small and beautiful opening, in the centre of which a majestic lime-tree stretched its arms in all directions over the soft green turf.
Rosalind instantly recognised the spot as one frequently resorted to in their evening rambles, for the sake of its cool and secluded beauty, and also because a bench, divided into commodious stalls, surrounded the capacious tree, from whence opened a vista commanding a charming view across the Park.
On the turf before this bench, and with their backs turned towards the spot where Rosalind and Henrietta stood, knelt Mr. Cartwright and f.a.n.n.y.
His eyes were fixed upon her with pa.s.sionate admiration, and the first words they distinctly heard were these, spoken with great vehemence by the vicar:--
”Persecuted--trampled on--turned forth from every other roof, let thy blue vault spread over us, and while I struggle to s.n.a.t.c.h this precious brand from the eternal fire of thy wrath, pour upon our heads the dew of thy love! Grant me power to save this one dear soul alive, though it should seem good in thy sight that millions should perish around her!
Save her from the eternal flame that even now rises to lick her feet, and if not stayed by prayer--the prayer of thy saints,--will speedily envelope and consume her!”