Part 60 (1/2)
”Enough!” said Alfred, rising and turning suddenly calm as a statue: ”let us be gentlemen, if you please, even though we must be enemies.
Good-bye, my father that _was._”
And he walked gently out of the room, and, as he pa.s.sed the window Mr.
Hardie heard his great heart sob.
He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. ”A hard tussle,” thought he, ”and with my own unnatural, ungrateful flesh and blood, but I have won it: he hasn't told the Dodds; he never will; and, if he did, who would believe him, or them?”
At dinner there was no Alfred; but after dinner a note to Jane informing her he had taken lodgings in the town, and requesting her to send his books and clothes in the evening. Jane handed the note to her father: and sighed deeply. Watching his face as he read it, she saw him turn rather pale, and look more furrowed than ever.
”Papa!” said she, ”what _does_ it all mean!”
”I am thinking.”
Then, after a long pause, he ground his teeth and said, ”It means--War: War between my own son and me.”
CHAPTER XXVI
LONG before this open rupture Jane Hardie had asked her father sorrowfully, whether she was to discontinue her intimacy with the Dodds: she thought of course he would say ”Yes;” and it cost her a hard struggle between inclination and filial duty to raise the question. But Mr. Hardie was anxious her friends.h.i.+p with that family should continue; it furnished a channel of news, and in case of detection might be useful to avert or soften hostilities; so he answered rather sharply, ”On no account: the Dodds are an estimable family: pray be as friendly with them as ever you can.” Jane coloured with pleasure at this most unexpected reply; but her wakeful conscience reminded her, this answer was given in ignorance of her attachment to Edward Dodd, and urged her to confession. But at that Nature recoiled: Edward had not openly declared his love to her; so modest pride, as well as modest shame, combined with female cowardice to hold back the avowal.
So then Miss Tender Conscience tormented herself; and recorded the struggle in her diary; but briefly, and in terms vague and typical; not a word about ”a young man”--or ”crossed in love”--but one obscure and hasty slap at the carnal affections, and a good deal about ”the saints in prison,” and ”the battle of Armageddon.”
Yet, to do her justice, laxity of expression did not act upon her conduct and warp that as it does most mystical speakers.
To obey her father to the letter, she maintained a friendly correspondence with Julia Dodd, exchanging letters daily; but, not to disobey him in the spirit, she ceased to visit Albion Villa. Thus she avoided Edward, and extracted from the situation the utmost self-denial, and the least possible amount of ”carnal pleasure,” as she naively denominated an interchange of worldly affection, however distant and respectful.
One day she happened to mention her diary, and say it was a present comfort to her, and instructive to review. Julia, catching at every straw of consolation, said she would keep one too, and asked a sight of Jane's for a model. ”No, dear friend,” said Jane: ”a diary should be one's self on paper.”
This was fortunate: it precluded that servile imitation, in which her s.e.x excels even mine; and consequently the two records reflect two good girls, instead of one in two skins; and may be trusted to conduct this narrative forward, and relieve its monotony a little: only, of course, the reader must not expect to see the plot of a story carried minutely out in two crude compositions written with an object so distinct: he must watch for glimpses and make the most of indications. Nor is this an excessive demand upon his intelligence; for, if he cannot do this with a book, how will he do it in real life, where male and female characters reveal their true selves by glimpses only, and the gravest and most dramatic events give the diviner so few and faint signs of their coming?
_Extracts from Julia Dodd's Diary._
_”Dec. 5th._--It is all over; they have taken papa away to an asylum: and the house is like a grave, but for our outbursts of sorrow. Just before he went away the medal came--oh no, I cannot. Poor, poor mamma!
”8 P. M. In the midst of our affliction Heaven sent us a ray of comfort: the kindest letter from a lady, a perfect stranger. It came yesterday; but now I have got it to copy: oh, bless it; and the good, kind writer.”
”'DEAR MADAM,--I scarcely know whether to hope or to fear that your good husband may have mentioned my name to you: however, he is just the man to pa.s.s over both my misbehaviour and his own gallantry; so I beg permission to introduce myself. I and my little boy were pa.s.sengers by the _Agra;_ I was spoiled by a long residence in India, and gave your husband sore trouble by resisting discipline, refusing to put out my light at nine o'clock, and in short by being an unreasonable woman, or rather a spoiled child. Well, all my little attempts at a feud failed; Captain Dodd did his duty, and kept his temper provokingly; the only revenge he took was a n.o.ble one; he jumped into the sea after my darling Freddy, and saved him from a watery grave, and his mother from madness or death; yet he was himself hardly recovered from a wound he had received in defending us all against pirates. Need I say more to one who is herself a mother? You will know how our little misunderstanding ended after that. As soon as we were friends I made him talk of his family; yourself, Edward, Julia, I seem to know you all.
”'When the ruffian, who succeeded our good captain, had wrecked poor us, and then deserted us, your husband resumed the command, and saved Freddy and me once more by his courage, his wonderful coolness, and his skill. Since then the mouse has been at work for the lion: I despair of conveying any pleasure by it to a character so elevated as Captain Dodd; his reward must be his own conscience; but we poor little women like external shows, do we not? and so I thought a medal of the Humane Society might give some pleasure to you and Miss Dodd. Never did medal nor order repose on a n.o.bler heart. The case was so strong, and so well supported, that the society did not hesitate: and you will receive it very soon after this.
”'You will be surprised, dear madam, at all this from a stranger to yourself, and will perhaps set it down to a wish to intrude on your acquaintance. Well, then, dear madam, you will not be far wrong.
I _should_ like much to know one, whose character I already seem acquainted with; and to convey personally my grat.i.tude and admiration of your husband: I could pour it out more freely to you, you know, than to him.--I am, dear Madam, Yours very faithfully,
”'LOUISA BERESFORD.'”
”And the medal came about an hour before the fly to take him away. His dear name was on it and his brave courageous acts.