Volume I Part 20 (1/2)
”Shall I tell you how it came about? It was talking of _you!_”
”Of me! talking of me!” and her cheek now flushed more deeply.
”Yes, we had rambled on over fifty themes, not one of which seemed to attach him strongly, till, in some pa.s.sing allusion to his own cares and difficulties, he mentioned one who has never ceased to guide and comfort him; who shared not alone his sorrows, but his hard hours of labor, and turned away from her own pleasant paths to tread the dreary road of toil beside him.”
”I think he might have kept all this to himself,” said she, with a tone of almost severity.
”How could he? How was it possible to tell me his story, and not touch upon what imparted the few tints of better fortune that lighted it? I'm certain, besides, that there is a sort of pride in revealing how much of sympathy and affection we have derived from those better than ourselves, and I could see that he was actually vain of what you had done for him.”
”I repeat, he might have kept this to himself. But let us leave this matter; and now tell me,--for I own I can hardly trust my poor brother's triumphant tale,--tell me seriously what the plan is?”
Conyers hesitated for a few seconds, embarra.s.sed how to avoid mention of himself, or to allude but pa.s.singly to his own share in the project. At last, as though deciding to dash boldly into the question, he said, ”I told him, if he 'd go out to India, I 'd give him such a letter to my father that his fortune would be secure. My governor is something of a swell out there,”--and he reddened, partly in shame, partly in pride, as he tried to disguise his feeling by an affectation of ease,--”and that with _him_ for a friend, Tom would be certain of success. You smile at my confidence, but you don't know India, and what scores of fine things are--so to say--to be had for asking; and although doctoring is all very well, there are fifty other ways to make a fortune faster. Tom could be a Receiver of Revenue; he might be a Political Resident. You don't know what they get. There's a fellow at Baroda has four thousand rupees a month, and I don't know how much more for dak-money.”
”I can't help smiling,” said she, ”at the notion of poor Tom in a palanquin. But, seriously, sir, is all this possible? or might it not be feared that your father, when he came to see my brother--who, with many a worthy quality, has not much to prepossess in his favor,--when, I say, he came to see your _protege_ is it not likely that he might--might--hold him more cheaply than you do?”
”Not when he presents a letter from me; not when it's I that have taken him up. You 'll believe me, perhaps, when I tell you what happened when I was but ten years old. We were up at Rangoon, in the Hills, when a dreadful hurricane swept over the country, destroying everything before it; rice, paddy, the indigo-crop, all were carried away, and the poor people left totally dest.i.tute. A subscription-list was handed about amongst the British residents, to afford some aid in the calamity, and it was my tutor, a native Moonshee, who went about to collect the sums.
One morning he came back somewhat disconsolate at his want of success.
A payment of eight thousand rupees had to be made for grain on that day, and he had not, as he hoped and expected, the money ready. He talked freely to me of his disappointment, so that, at last, my feelings being worked upon, I took up my pen and wrote down my name on the list, with the sum of eight thousand rupees to it Shocked at what he regarded as an act of levity, he carried the paper to my father, who at once said, 'Fred wrote it; his name shall not be dishonored;' and the money was paid. I ask you, now, am I reckoning too much on one who could do that, and for a mere child too?”
”That was n.o.bly done,” said she, with enthusiasm; and though Conyers went on, with warmth, to tell more of his father's generous nature, she seemed less to listen than to follow out some thread of her own reflections. Was it some speculation as to the temperament the son of such a father might possess? or was it some pleasurable revery regarding one who might do any extravagance and yet be forgiven? My reader may guess this, perhaps,--I cannot. Whatever her speculation, it lent a very charming expression to her features,--that air of gentle, tranquil happiness we like to believe the lot of guileless, simple natures.
Conyers, like many young men of his order, was very fond of talking of himself, of his ways, his habits, and his temper, and she listened to him very prettily,--so prettily, indeed, that when Darby, slyly peeping in at the half-opened door, announced that the boat had come, he felt well inclined to pitch the messenger into the stream.
”I must go and say good-bye to Miss Barrington,” said Polly, rising. ”I hope that this rustling finery will impart some dignity to my demeanor.”
And drawing wide the ma.s.sive folds, she made a very deep courtesy, throwing back her head haughtily as she resumed her height in admirable imitation of a bygone school of manners.
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”Very well,--very well, indeed! Quite as like what it is meant for as is Miss Polly Dill for the station she counterfeits!” said Miss Dinah, as, throwing wide the door, she stood before them.
”I am overwhelmed by your flattery, madam,” said Polly, who, though very red, lost none of her self-possession; ”but I feel that, like the traveller who tried on Charlemagne's armor, I am far more equal to combat in my every-day clothes.”
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”Do not enter the lists with me in either,” said Miss Dinah, with a look of the haughtiest insolence. ”Mr. Conyers, will you let me show you my flower-garden?”
”Delighted! But I will first see Miss Dill to her boat.” ”As you please, sir,” said the old lady; and she withdrew with a proud toss of her head that was very unmistakable in its import.
”What a severe correction that was!” said Polly, half gayly, as she went along, leaning on his arm. ”And _you_ know that, whatever my offending, there was no mimicry in it. I was simply thinking of some great-grandmother who had, perhaps, captivated the heroes of Dettingen; and, talking of heroes, how courageous of you to come to my rescue!”
Was it that her arm only trembled slightly, or did it really press gently on his own as she said this? Certainly Conyers inclined to the latter hypothesis, for he drew her more closely to his side, and said, ”Of course I stood by you. She was all in the wrong, and I mean to tell her so.”
”Not if you would serve me,” said she, eagerly. ”I have paid the penalty, and I strongly object to be sentenced again. Oh, here's the boat!”
”Why it's a mere skiff. Are you safe to trust yourself in such a thing?”
asked he, for the canoe-shaped ”cot” was new to him.
”Of course!” said she, lightly stepping in. ”There is even room for another.” Then, hastily changing her theme, she asked, ”May I tell poor Tom what you have said to me, or is it just possible that you will come up one of these days and see us?”