Part 95 (1/2)
”A sort of power, certainly, sir,” said Randal, candidly; and that night, when Randal retired to his own room, he suspended his schemes and projects, and read, as he rarely did, without an object to gain by the reading.
The work surprised him by the pleasure it gave. Its charm lay in the writer's calm enjoyment of the beautiful. It seemed like some happy soul sunning itself in the light of its own thoughts. Its power was so tranquil and even, that it was only a critic who could perceive how much force and vigour were necessary to sustain the wing that floated aloft with so imperceptible an effort. There was no one faculty predominating tyrannically over the others; all seemed proportioned in the felicitous symmetry of a nature rounded, integral, and complete. And when the work was closed, it left behind it a tender warmth that played round the heart of the reader and vivified feelings which seemed unknown before.
Randal laid down the book softly; and for five minutes the ign.o.ble and base purposes to which his own knowledge was applied stood before him, naked and unmasked.
”Tut!” said he, wrenching himself violently away from the benign influence, ”it was not to sympathize with Hector, but to conquer with Achilles, that Alexander of Macedon kept Homer under his pillow. Such should be the true use of books to him who has the practical world to subdue; let parsons and women construe it otherwise, as they may!”
And the Principle of Evil descended again upon the intellect from which the guide of Beneficence was gone.
CHAPTER X.
Randal rose at the sound of the first breakfast-bell, and on the staircase met Mrs. Haaeldean. He gave her back the book; and as he was about to speak, she beckoned to him to follow her into a little morning-room appropriated to herself,--no boudoir of white and gold, with pictures by Watteau, but lined with large walnut-tree presses, that held the old heirloom linen, strewed with lavender, stores for the housekeeper, and medicines for the poor.
Seating herself on a large chair in this sanctum, Mrs. Hazeldean looked formidably at home.
”Pray,” said the lady, coming at once to the point, with her usual straightforward candour, ”what is all this you have been saying to my husband as to the possibility of Frank's marrying a foreigner?”
RANDAL.--”Would you be as averse to such a notion as Mr. Hazeldean is?”
MRS. HAZELDEAN.--”You ask me a question, instead of answering mine.”
Randal was greatly put out in his fence by these rude thrusts. For indeed he had a double purpose to serve,--first, thoroughly to know if Frank's marriage with a woman like Madame di Negra would irritate the squire sufficiently to endanger the son's inheritance; and, secondly, to prevent Mr. and Mrs. Hazeldean believing seriously that such a marriage was to be apprehended, lest they should prematurely address Frank on the subject, and frustrate the marriage itself. Yet, withal, he must so express himself, that he could not be afterwards accused by the parents of disguising matters. In his talk to the squire the preceding day, he had gone a little too far,--further than he would have done but for his desire of escaping the cattle-shed and short-horns. While he mused, Mrs. Hazeldean observed him with her honest sensible eyes, and finally exclaimed,
”Out with it, Mr. Leslie!”
”Out with what, my dear madam? The squire has sadly exaggerated the importance of what was said mainly in jest. But I will own to you plainly, that Frank has appeared to me a little smitten with a certain fair Italian.”
”Italian!” cried Mrs. Hazeldean. ”Well, I said so from the first.
Italian!--that's all, is it?” and she smiled. Randal was more and more perplexed. The pupil of his eye contracted, as it does when we retreat into ourselves, and think, watch, and keep guard.
”And perhaps,” resumed Mrs. Hazeldean, with a very sunny expression of countenance, ”you have noticed this in Frank since he was here?”
”It is true,” murmured Randal; ”but I think his heart or his fancy was touched even before.”
”Very natural,” said Mrs. Hazeldean; ”how could he help it?--such a beautiful creature! Well, I must not ask you to tell Frank's secrets; but I guess the object of attraction; and though she will have no fortune to speak of, and it is not such a match as he might form, still she is so amiable, and has been so well brought up, and is so little like one's general notions of a Roman Catholic, that I think I could persuade Hazeldean into giving his consent.”
”Ah,” said Randal, drawing a long breath, and beginning, with his practised acuteness, to detect Mrs. Ilazeldean's error, ”I am very much relieved and rejoiced to hear this; and I may venture to give Frank some hope, if I find him disheartened and desponding, poor fellow?”
”I think you may,” replied Mrs. Hazeldean, laughing pleasantly. ”But you should not have frightened poor William so, hinting that the lady knew very little English. She has an accent, to be sure; but she speaks our tongue very prettily. I always forget that she 's not English born! Ha, ha, poor William!”
RANDAL.--”Ha, ha!”
MRS. HAZELDEAN.--”We had once thought of another match for Frank,--a girl of good English family.”
RANDAL.--”Miss Sticktorights?”
MRS. HAZELDEAN.--”No; that's an old whim of Hazeldean's. But I doubt if the Sticktorights would ever merge their property in ours. Bless you! it would be all off the moment they came to settlements, and had to give up the right of way. We thought of a very different match; but there's no dictating to young hearts, Mr. Leslie.”
RANDAL.--”Indeed no, Mrs. Hazeldean. But since we now understand each other so well, excuse me if I suggest that you had better leave things to themselves, and not write to Frank on the subject. Young hearts, you know, are often stimulated by apparent difficulties, and grow cool when the obstacle vanishes.”