Part 21 (1/2)
”I was well frightened. I saw that the bough had broken short of the end, and that for once Clasfempta could mean to hurt. But Eveena kept him awhile, and when he came to me, she had persuaded him that I was only mischievous, not malicious, teasing rather than trespa.s.sing. But his last words showed that he was not so sure of that. 'I have treated you this time as a child whose petulance is half play; but if you would not have your teasing returned with interest, keep it clipped; and--keep it for _me_.' I have often tormented her since then, but I could not for shame help you to spite her.”
”Crach!” said Enva. ”Eveena might think it wise to make friends with you; but would she bear to be slighted and persecuted a whole summer if she could help herself? You know that--
”Man's control in woman's hand Sorest tries the household band.
Closer favourite's kisses cling, Favourite's fingers sharper sting.'”
”Very likely,” replied Eunane. ”I cannot understand any more than you can why Eveena screens instead of punis.h.i.+ng us; why she endures what a word to him would put down under her sandal; but she does. Does she cast no shadow because it never darkens his presence to us? And after all, her mind is not a deeper darkness to me than his. He enjoys life as no man here does; but what he enjoys most is a good chance of losing it; while those who find it so tedious guard it like watch-dragons. When the number of accidents made it difficult to fill up the Southern hunt at any price, the Campta's refusal to let him go so vexed him that Eveena was half afraid to show her sense of relief.
You would think he liked pain--the scars of the _kargynda_ are not his only or his deepest ones--if he did not catch at every excuse to spare it. And, again, why does he speak to Eveena as to the Campta, and to us as to children--'child' is his softest word for us? Then, he is patient where you expect no mercy, and severe where others would laugh. When Enva let the electric stove overheat the water, so that he was scalded horribly in his bath, we all counted that he would at least have paid her back the pain twice over. But as soon as Eveena and Eive had arranged the bandages, he sent for her. We could scarcely bring you to him, Enva; but he put out the only hand he could move to stroke your hair as he does Eive's, and spoke for once with real tenderness, as if you were the person to be pitied! Any one else would have laughed heartily at the figure her _esve_ made with half her tail pulled out. But not all Eveena's pleading could obtain pardon for me.”
”That was caprice, not even dealing,” said Leenoo. ”You were not half so bad as Enva.”
”He made me own that I was,” replied Eunane. ”It never occurred to him to suppose or say that she did it on purpose. But I was cruel on purpose to the bird, if I were not spiteful to its mistress. 'Don't you feel,' he said, 'that intentional cruelty is what no ruler, whether of a household or of a kingdom, has a right to pa.s.s over? If not, you can hardly be fit for a charge that gives animals into your power.' I never liked him half so well; and I am sure I deserved a severer lesson. Since then, I cannot help liking them both; though it _is_ mortifying to feel that one is nothing before her.”
”It is intolerable,” said Enva bitterly; ”I detest her.”
”Is it her fault?” asked Eunane with some warmth. ”They are so like each other and so unlike us, that I could fancy she came from his own world. I went to her next day in her own room.”
”Ay,” interjected Leenoo with childish spite, ”'kiss the foot and 'scape the sandal.'”
”Think so,” returned Eunane quietly, ”if you like. I thought I owed her some amends. Well, she had her bird in her lap, and I think she was crying over it. But as soon as she saw me she put it out of sight.
I began to tell her how sorry I was about it, but she would not let me go on. She kissed me as no one ever kissed me since my school friend Ernie died three years ago; and she cried more over the trouble I had brought on myself than over her pet. And since then,” Eunane went on with a softened voice, ”she has showed me how pretty its ways are, how clever it is, how fond of her, and she tries to make it friends with me.... Sometimes I don't wonder she is so much to him and he to her.
She was brought up in the home where she was born. Her father is one of those strange people; and I fancy there is something between her and Clasfempta more than....”
I could not let this go on; and stepping back from the window as if I had but just returned, I called Eunane by name. She came at once, a little surprised at the summons, but suspecting nothing. But the first sight of my face startled her; and when, on the impulse of the moment, I took her hands and looked straight into her eyes, her quick intelligence perceived at once that I had heard at least part of the conversation.
”Ah,” she said, flus.h.i.+ng and hanging her head, ”I am caught now, but”--in a tone half of relief--”I deserve it, and I won't pretend to think that you are angry only because Eveena is your favourite. You would not allow any of us to be spited if you could help it, and it is much worse to have spited her.”
I led her by the hand across the peristyle into her own chamber, and when the window closed behind us, drew her to my side.
”So you would rather belong to the worst master of your own race than to me?”
”Not now,” she answered. ”That was my first thought when I saw how you felt for Eveena, and knew how angry you would be when you found how we--I mean how I--had used her, and I remembered how terribly strong you were. I know you better now. It is for women to strike with five fingers” (in unmeasured pa.s.sion); ”only, don't tell Eveena. Besides,”
she murmured, colouring, with drooping eyelids, ”I had rather be beaten by you than caressed by another.”
”Eunane, child, you might well say you don't understand me. I could not have listened to your talk if I had meant to use it against you; and with _you_ I have no cause to be displeased. Nay” (as she looked up in surprise), ”I know you have not used Eveena kindly, but I heard from yourself that you had repented. That she, who could never be coaxed or compelled to say what made her unhappy, or even to own that I had guessed it truly, has fully forgiven you, you don't need to be told.”
”Indeed, I don't understand,” the girl sobbed. ”Eveena is always so strangely soft and gentle--she would rather suffer without reason than let us suffer who deserve it. But just because she is so kind, you must feel the more bitterly for her. Besides,” she went on, ”I was so jealous--as if you could compare me with her--even after I had felt her kindness. No! you cannot forgive _for her_, and you ought not.”
”Child,” I answered, sadly enough, for my conscience was as ill at ease as hers, with deeper cause, ”I don't tell you that your jealousy was not foolish and your petulance culpable; but I do say that neither Eveena nor I have the heart--perhaps I have not even the right--to blame you. It is true that I love Eveena as I can love no other in this world or my own. How well she deserves that love none but I can know. So loving her, I would not willingly have brought any other woman into a relation which could make her dependent upon or desirous of such love as I cannot give. You know how this relation to you and the others was forced upon me. When I accepted it, I thought I could give you as much affection as you would find elsewhere. How far and why I wronged Eveena is between her and myself. I did not think that I could be wronging you.”
Very little of this was intelligible to Eunane. She felt a tenderness she had never before received; but she could not understand my doubt, and she replied only to my last words.
”Wrong us! How could you? Did we ask whether you had another wife, or who would be your favourite? Did you promise to like us, or even to be kind to us? You might have neglected us altogether, made one girl your sole companion, kept all indulgences, all favours, for her; and how would you have wronged us? If you had turned on us when she vexed you, humbled us to gratify her caprice, ill-used us to vent your temper, other men would have done the same. Who else would have treated us as you have done? Who would have been careful to give each of us her share in every pleasure, her turn in every holiday, her employment at home, her place in your company abroad? Who would have inquired into the truth of our complaints and the merits of our quarrels; would have made so many excuses for our faults, given us so many patient warnings?... Wronged us! There may be some of us who don't like you; there is not one who could bear to be sent away, not one who would exchange this house for the palace of the campta though you p.r.o.nounce him kingly in nature as in power.”
She spoke as she believed, if she spoke in error. ”If so, my child, why have you all been so bitter against Eveena? Why have you yourself been jealous of one who, as you admit, has been a favourite only in a love you did not expect?”
”But we saw it, and we envied her so much love, so much respect,” she replied frankly. ”And for myself,”--she coloured, faltered, and was silent. ”For yourself, my child?”
”I was a vain fool,” she broke out impetuously. ”They told me that I was beautiful, and clever, and companionable. I fancied I should be your favourite, and hold the first place; and when I saw her, I would not see her grace and gentleness, or observe her soft sweet voice, and the charms that put my figure and complexion to shame, and the quiet sense and truth that were worth twelvefold my quickness, my memory, and my handiness. I was disappointed and mortified that she should be preferred. Oh, how you must hate me, Clasfempta; for I hate myself while I tell you what I have been!”