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Heriot's Choice

<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> <h3>A MOTHER IN ISRAEL</h3> <blockquote>'Of marvellous gentleness she was unto all folk, but specially unto her own, whom she trusted and loved right tenderly. Unkind she would not be unto no creature, nor forgetful of any kindness or service done to her before, which is no little part of nobleness.... Merciful also and piteous she was unto such as was grieved and troubled, and to them that were in poverty or sickness, or any other trouble.'—Fisher, Bishop of Rochester. </blockquote> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> Mildred was not slow in perceiving that Dr. Heriot had imported a new element of cheerfulness into the family circle; they were all seated cosily round the supper-table when she came downstairs. Olive, who had probably received some hint to that effect, had placed herself between her father and Richard. Mildred looked at the vacant place at the head of the table a little dubiously. 'Never hesitate in claiming abrogated authority,' observed Dr. Heriot, gravely, as he placed the chair for her. Mildred gave him a puzzled glance: 'Does my brother—does Olive wish it?' 'Can you doubt it?' he returned, reproachfully. 'Have you not found out how wearily those young shoulders bear the weight of any responsibility!' with a pitying glance in Olive's direction, which seemed hardly needed, for she looked brighter than usual. 'Give them time to gain strength, and she will thank you for the mercy shown her. To-night she will eat her supper with some degree of enjoyment, now this joint is off her mind,' and, quietly appropriating the carving-knife, he was soon engaged in satisfying the young and healthy appetites round him; while answering at the same time the numerous questions Roy and Chrissy were pleased to put to him. Dr. Heriot, or Dr. John, as they called him, seemed the family referee. A great stress was laid on the three days' absence, which it was averred had accumulated a mass of plans to be decided. Richard wanted to consult him about the mare. Mr. Lambert had some lengthy document from the Bounty Office to show him. Chrissy begged for an invitation for herself and Polly for the following evening, and Olive pleaded to be allowed to come too, as she wanted to refer to some books in his library. Polly looked from one to the other only half-pleased with all this familiarity. 'He might be every one's guardian,' she remarked sotto voce to Roy; but Dr. Heriot soon found means to allay the childish jealousy, which he was quick enough to perceive. Mildred thought he looked younger and happier to-night, with all those young aspirants for his notice pressing round him. She was startled to hear a soft laugh from Olive once, though it was checked immediately, as though duty put a force on inclination. Mr. Lambert retired to his study after supper, and Olive, at Dr. Heriot's request, went to the piano. Mildred had heard she had no taste for music; but to her surprise she played some hymns with accuracy and feeling, the others joining in as they pleased. Richard pleaded fatigue and a headache, and sat in the farthest corner, looking over the dark fells, and shading his eyes from the lamplight; but Dr. Heriot sang in a rich, full voice, Polly sitting at his feet and sharing his hymn-book, while Chrissy looked over his shoulder. Mildred was enjoying the harmony, and wondering over Roy's beautiful tenor, when she was startled to see him turn suddenly very pale, and leave off singing; and a moment afterwards, as though unable to contain himself, he abruptly left the room. Olive glanced uneasily round, and then, under cover of the singing, whispered to Mildred— 'I forgot. Oh, how careless!—how wrong of me! Aunt Milly, will you please go after him?' Mildred obeyed. She found him leaning against the open garden door—white, and almost gasping. 'My dear boy, you are ill. Shall I call Dr. Heriot to you?' but he shook his head impatiently. 'Nonsense—I am all right; at least, I shall be in a moment. Don't stay, Aunt Milly. I would not have Cardie see me for worlds; he would be blaming Olive, and I know she forgot.' 'The hymn we were singing, do you mean?' 'Yes; she—mamma—was so fond of it. We used to have it every night in her room. She asked for it almost at the last. Sun of my soul; the hymn of hymns, she called it. It was just like Livy to forget. I can stand any but that one—it beats me. Ah, Aunt Milly!' his boyish tones suddenly breaking beyond control. 'Dear Rex, don't mind; these feelings do you honour. I love you the better for them;' pressing the fair head tenderly to her shoulder, as she had done Chrissy's. She was half afraid he might resent the action, but for the moment his manhood was helpless. 'That is just what she used to do,' he said, with a half sob. 'You remind me of her somehow, Aunt Milly. There's some one coming after us. Please—please let me go,'—the petulant dignity of seventeen years asserting itself again,—but he seemed still so white and shaken that she ventured to detain him. 'Roy, dear, it is only Olive. There is nothing of which to be ashamed.' 'Livy, oh, I don't mind her. I thought it was Dick or Heriot. Livy, how could you play that thing when you know—you know——' but the rest of the speech was choked somehow. 'Oh, Rex, I am so sorry.' 'Well, never mind; it can't be helped now. Only Aunt Milly has seen me make an ass of myself.' 'You are too good to scold me, Rex, I know, but I am grieved—I am indeed. I am so fond of that hymn for her sake, that I always play it to myself; and I forgot you could not bear it,' continued poor Olive, humbly. 'All right; you need not cover yourself with dust and ashes,' interrupted Roy, with a nervous laugh. 'Ah, confound it, there's Richard! What a fellow he is for turning up at the wrong time. Good-night, Livy,' he continued, with a pretence at cheerfulness; 'the dews are unwholesome. Pleasant dreams and sweet repose;' but Olive still lingered, regardless of Roy's good-humoured attempts to save an additional scolding. 'Well, what's all this about?' demanded Richard, abruptly. 'It is my fault, as usual, Cardie,' returned Olive, courting her fate with clumsy bravery. 'I upset him by playing that hymn. Of course I ought to have remembered.' 'Culprit, plaintiff, defendant, and judge in one,' groaned Roy. 'Spare us the rest, Dick, and prove to our young minds that honesty is the best policy.' But Richard's brow-grew dark. 'This is the second time it has happened; it is too bad, Olive. Not content with harassing us from morning to night with your shiftless, unwomanly ways, you must make a blunder like this. One's most sacred feelings trampled on mercilessly,—it is unpardonable.' 'Oh, draw it mild, Dick;' but Roy's lip still quivered; his sensitive nature had evidently received a shock. 'You are too good-natured, Rex. Such cruel heedlessness deserves reproof, but it is all lost on Livy; she will never understand how we feel about these things.' 'Indeed, Cardie——' but Richard sternly checked her. 'There is no use in saying anything more about it. If you are so devoid of tact and feeling, you can at least have the grace to be ashamed of yourself. Come, Roy, a turn in the air will do you good; my head still aches badly. Let us go down over Hillsbottom for a stroll;' and Richard laid his hand persuasively on Roy's shoulder. Roy shook off his depression with an effort. Mildred fancied his brother's well-meant attempt at consolation jarred on him; but he was of too easy a nature to contend against a stronger will; he hesitated a moment, however. 'We have not said good-night to Livy.' 'Be quick about it, then,' returned Richard, turning on his heel; then remembering himself, 'Good-night, Aunt Milly. I suppose we shall not see you on our return?' but he took no notice of Olive, though she mutely offered her cheek as he passed. 'My dear, you will take cold, standing out here with uncovered head,' Mildred said, passing her arm gently through the girl's to draw her to the house; but Olive shook her head, and remained rooted to the spot. 'He never bade me good-night,' she said at last, and then a large tear rolled slowly down her lace. 'Do you mean Richard? He is not himself to-night; something is troubling him, I am sure.' But Mildred felt a little indignation rising, as she thought of her nephew's hardness. 'Rex kissed me, though; and he was the one I hurt. Rex is never hard and unkind. Oh, Aunt Milly, I think Cardie begins to dislike me;' the tears falling faster over her pale cheeks. 'My dear Olive, this is only one of your morbid fancies. It is wrong to say such things—wrong to Richard.' 'Why should I not say what I think? There, do you see them'—pointing to a strip of moonlight beyond the bridge—'he has his arm round Roy, and is talking to him gently. I know his way; he can be, oh so gentle when he likes. He is only hard to me; he is kinder even to Chrissy, who teases him from morning to night; and I do not deserve it, because I love him so;' burying her face in her hands, and weeping convulsively, as no one had ever seen Olive weep before. 'Hush, dear—hush; you are tired and overstrained with the long day's work, or you would not fret so over an impatient word. Richard does not mean to be unkind, but he is domineering by nature, and——' 'No, Aunt Milly, not domineering,' striving to speak between her sobs; 'he thinks so little of himself, and so much of others. He is vexed about Roy's being upset; he is so fond of Roy.' 'Yes, but he has no right to misunderstand his sister so completely.' 'I don't think I am the right sort of sister for him, Aunt Milly. Polly would suit him better: she is so bright and winning; and then he cares so much about looks.' 'Nonsense, Olive: men don't think if their sisters have beauty or not. I mean it does not make any difference in their affection.' 'Ah, it does with Cardie. He thinks Chriss will be pretty, and so he takes more notice of her. He said once it was very hard for a man not to be proud of his sisters; he meant me, I know. He is always finding fault with my hair and my dress, and telling me no woman need be absolutely ugly unless she likes.' 'I can see a gleam in the clouds now. We will please our young taskmaster before we have done.' Olive smiled faintly, but the tears still came. It was true: she was worn in body and mind. In this state tears are a needful luxury, as Mildred well knew. 'It is not this I mind. Of course one would be beautiful if one could; but I should think it paltry to care,' speaking with mingled simplicity and resignation. 'Mamma told us not to trouble about such things, as it would all be made up to us one day. What I really mind is his thinking I do not share his and Roy's feelings about things.' 'People have different modes of expressing them. You could play that hymn, you see.' 'Yes, and love to do it. When Roy left the room I had forgotten everything. I thought mamma was singing it with us, and it seemed so beautiful.' 'Richard would call that visionary.' 'He would never know;' her voice dropping again into its hopeless key. 'He thinks I am too cold to care much even about that; he does indeed, Aunt Milly:' as Mildred, shocked and distressed, strove to hush her. 'Not that I blame him, because Roy thinks the same. I never talk to any of them as I have done to you these two days.' 'Then we have something tangible on which to lay the blame. You are too reserved with your brothers, Olive. You do not let them see how much you feel about things.' She winced. 'No, I could not bear to be repulsed. I would rather—much rather—be thought cold, than laughed at for a visionary. Would not you, Aunt Milly? It hurts less, I think.' 'And you can hug yourself in the belief that no one has discovered the real Olive. You can shut yourself up in your citadel, while they batter at the outworks. My poor girl, why need you shroud yourself, as though your heart, a loving one, Olive, had some hidden deformity? If Richard had my eyes, he would think differently.' Olive shook her head. 'My child, you depreciate yourself too much. We have no right to look down on any piece of God's handiwork. Separate yourself from your faults. Your poor soul suffers for want of cherishing. It does not deserve such harsh treatment. Why not respect yourself as one whom God intends to make like unto the angels?' 'Aunt Milly, no one has said such things to me before.' 'Well, dear!' 'It is beautiful—the idea, I mean—it seems to heal the sore place.' 'I meant it to do so. It is not more beautiful than the filial love that can find rest by a mother's grave. Cardie would never think of doing that. When his paroxysms of pain come on him, he vents himself in long solitary walks, or shuts himself up in his room.' 'Aunt Milly, how did you know that? who told you?' 'My own intuition,' returned Mildred, smiling. 'Come, child, it is long past ten. I wonder what Polly and Dr. Heriot have been doing with themselves all this time. Go to sleep and forget all about these troubles;' and Mildred kissed the tear-stained face tenderly as she spoke. She found Dr. Heriot alone when she entered the drawing-room. He looked up at her rather strangely, she thought. Could he have overheard any of their conversation? 'I was just coming out to warn you of imprudence,' he said, rising and offering her his chair. 'Sit there and rest yourself a little. Do mothers in Israel generally have such tired faces?' regarding her with a grave, inscrutable smile. He had heard then. Mildred could not help the rising colour that testified to her annoyance. 'Forgive me,' he returned, leaning over the back of her chair, and speaking with the utmost gentleness. 'I did not mean to annoy you, far from it. Your voices just underneath the window reached me occasionally, and I only heard enough to——' 'Well, Dr. Heriot?' Mildred sat absolutely on thorns. 'To justify the name I just called you. I cannot help it, Miss Lambert, you so thoroughly deserve it.' Mildred grew scarlet. 'You ought to have given us a hint. Olive had no idea, neither had I. I thought—we thought, you were talking to the girls.' 'So I was; but I sent them away long ago. My dear Miss Lambert, I believe you are accusing me in your heart of listening,' elevating his eyebrows slightly, as though the idea was absurd. 'Pray dismiss such a notion from your mind. I was in a brown study, and thinking of my favourite Richard, when poor Olive's sobs roused me.' 'Richard your favourite!' 'Yes, is he not yours?' with an inquisitive glance. 'All Dick's faults, glaring as they are, could not hide his real excellence from such observing eyes.' 'He interests me,' she returned, reluctantly; 'but they all do that of course.' Somehow she was loath to confess to a secret predilection in Richard's favour. 'He does not deserve me to speak well of him to-night,' she continued, with her usual candour. Dr. Heriot looked surprised. 'He has been captious and sharp with Olive again, I suppose. I love to see a woman side with her sex. Well, do you know, if I were Richard, Olive would provoke me.' 'Possibly,' was Mildred's cool reply, for the remembrance of the sad tear-stained face made any criticism on Olive peculiarly unpalatable at that moment. Dr. Heriot was quick to read the feeling. 'Don't be afraid, Miss Lambert. I don't mean to say a word against your adopted daughter, only to express my thankfulness that she has fallen into such tender hands,' and for a moment he looked at the slim, finely-shaped hands lying folded in Mildred's lap, and which were her chief beauty. 'I only want you to be lenient in your judgment of Richard, for in his present state she tries him sorely.' 'One can see he is very unhappy.' 'People are who create a Doubting Castle for themselves, and carry Giant Despair, as a sort of old man of the mountains, on their shoulders,' he returned, drily. '"The perfect woman nobly planned" is rather an inconvenient sort of burden too. Well, it is growing late, and I must go and look after those boys.' 'Wait a minute, Dr. Heriot. You know his trouble, perhaps?' He nodded. 'Troubles, you mean. They are threefold, at least, poor Cardie! Very few youths of nineteen know how to arrange their life, or to like other people to arrange it for them.' 'I want to ask you something; you know them all so well. Do you think I shall ever win his confidence?' 'You,' looking at her kindly; 'no one deserves it more, of course; but——' pausing in some perplexity. 'You hesitate.' 'Well, Cardie is peculiar. His mother was his sole confidant, and, when he lost her, I verily believe the poor fellow was as near heart-break as possible. I have got into his good graces lately, and now and then he lets off the steam; but not often. He is a great deal up at Kirkleatham House; but I doubt the wisdom of an adviser so young and fair as Miss Trelawny.' 'Miss Trelawny! Who is she?' 'What, have you not heard of "Ethel the Magnificent"? The neighbourhood reports that Richard and I have both lost our hearts to her, and are rivals. Only believe half you hear in Kirkby Stephen, Miss Lambert.' But Richard is only nineteen.' 'True; and I was accused of wearing her hair in a locket at my watch-guard. Miss Trelawny's hair is light brown, and this is bright auburn. I don't trouble myself to inform people that I may possibly be wearing my mother's hair.' 'Then you don't think my task will be easy?' asked Mildred, ignoring the bitterness with which he had spoken. 'What task—that of winning Cardie's confidence? I hope you don't mean to be an anxious mother, and grow gray before your time.' Then, as though touched by Mildred's yearning look, 'I wish I could promise you would have no difficulty; but facts are stubborn things. Richard is close and somewhat impracticable; but as you seem an adept in winning, you may soften down his ruggedness sooner than we expect. Come, is that vaguely encouraging?' One of Mildred's quaint smiles flitted over her face as she answered— 'Not very; but I mean to try, however. If I am to succeed I must give Miss Trelawny a wide berth.' 'Why so I' looking at her in surprise. 'If your hint be true, Richard's mannishness would never brook feminine interference.' Dr. Heriot laughed. 'I was hardly prepared for such feminine sagacity. You are a wise woman, Miss Lambert. If you go on like this, we shall all be afraid of you. The specimen is rare enough in these parts, I assure you. Well, good-night.' It was with mingled feelings that Mildred retired to rest that night. The events of the day, with its jarring interests and disturbed harmony, had given her deep insight into the young lives around her. Three days!—she felt as though she had been three months among them. She was thankful that Olive's confidence seemed already won—thankful and touched to the heart; and though her conversation with Dr. Heriot had a little damped her with regard to Richard, hers was the sort of courage that gains strength with obstacles; and, before she slept that night, the fond prayer rose to her lips, that Betha's sons might find a friend in her. She woke the next morning with a consciousness that duty lay ready to hand, opening out before her as the dawn brightened into day. On her way downstairs she came upon Olive, looking heavy-eyed and unrefreshed, as though from insufficient sleep. She was hunting among her father's papers for a book she had mislaid. 'Have you seen it, Aunt Milly?' 'Do you mean this?' holding out a dilapidated Wilhelm Tell for her inspection. 'I picked it up in the court, and placed it on the shelf for safety. Wait a moment, dear,' as Olive was rushing away, 'I want to speak to you. Was it by yours or your father's wish that you gave up your seat at supper to me?' 'Oh, it was Dr. John—at least—I mean I would much rather you always had it, Aunt Milly,' returned Olive, in her usual incoherent fashion. 'Please, do take it; it was such a load off my mind to see you sitting there.' 'But, my dear,' remonstrated Mildred; but Olive interrupted her with unusual eagerness. 'Oh, you must; you look so much nicer; and I hate it so. Dr. John arranged it all, and papa said "Yes," as he always does. He put it so kindly, that one could not mind; he told papa that with my disposition—timidity he meant, and absence of mind—it would be better for everybody's comfort if you assumed the entire management of everything at once; and that it would be better for me to learn from you for a few years, until you had made me a capable woman. Cardie heard him, I know; for he gave quite a sigh of relief.' 'Perhaps they are right; but it seems strange for Dr. Heriot to interfere in such a matter,' returned Mildred, in a puzzled tone. 'Oh, Dr. John always settles things; nobody calls it interference from him,' explained Olive, in her simple matter-of-fact way. 'It is such a relief to be told what to do. Papa only thanked him, and begged me to put myself entirely under your direction. You are to have the keys, and I am to show you the store cupboards and places, and to introduce you to Nan. We are afraid you will find her a little troublesome at first, Aunt Milly;' but Mildred only smiled, and assured her she was not afraid of Nan, and as the bells were ringing the brief colloquy ceased. Mildred was quite aware Dr. Heriot was in church, as his fine voice was distinctly audible, leading the responses. To her surprise he joined them after service, and without waiting for an invitation, announced his intention of breakfasting with them. 'Nan's rolls are especially tempting on Monday morning,' he observed, coolly; 'but to-day that is not my inducement. Is teaching one's ward the catechism included in the category of a guardian's duty, Miss Lambert?' 'I was not aware that such was the case,' returned Mildred, laughing. 'Do you mean to teach Polly hers?' Polly drew herself up affronted. 'I am not a little girl; I am fourteen.' 'What a great age, and what a literal Polly!' taking her hands, and looking at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes. 'Last night you certainly looked nothing but a good little girl, singing hymns at my feet; but to-day you are bridling like a young princess; you are as fond of transformation as Proteus.' 'Who is Proteus?' 'A sea-god—but there is your breakfast; the catechism must wait till afterwards. I mean to introduce you to Mrs. Cranford in proper style. Miss Lambert, is your coffee always so good? I trust not, or my presence may prove harassing at the breakfast-table.' 'It is excellent, Aunt Milly:' the last from Richard. Mildred hoped the tone of hearty commendation would not reach Olive's ear, as her German grammar lay by her plate as usual; but she only looked up and nodded pleasantly. 'I never could make coffee nicely; you must teach me, Aunt Milly,' and dropped her eyes on her book again. 'No paltry jealousy there,' thought Mildred; and she sat behind her urn well pleased, for even Arnold had roused himself once to ask for his cup to be replenished. Mildred had been called away on some household business, and on her return she found Dr. Heriot alone, reading the paper. He put it down as she entered. 'Well, is Nan formidable?' 'Her dialect is,' returned Mildred, smiling; 'I am afraid she looks upon me in the light of an interloper. I hope she does not always mean to call me "t'maister's sister."' 'Probably. Nan has her idiosyncrasies, but they are rather puzzling than dangerous; she is a type of the old Daleswoman, sturdy, independent, and sharp-tongued; but she is a good creature in the main, though a little contemptuous on "women-foaks." I believe Dick is her special favourite, though she told him once "he's niver off a grummle, and that she was fair stot t' deeth wi't sound on't," if you know what that means.' Mildred shook her head. 'You must not expect too much respect to a southerner at first. I did battle on your behalf before you came, Miss Lambert, and got terribly worsted. "Bless me, weel, Doctor!" says Nan, "what's the matter that t'maister's sister come here? I can do verra weel by messel', and Miss Olive can fend for hersel'; it's nought but daftness, but it's ne'er my business; if they please themselves they please me. I must bide t'bitterment."' Mildred gave one of her quiet laughs. 'Nan and I will be great friends soon; we must learn to respect each other's prejudices. Poor Olive had not a chance of putting in a word. Nan treated her as though she were a mere infant.' 'She has known her ever since she was one, you see, Miss Lambert. I have been putting Polly through her paces, and find she has plenty to learn and unlearn.' 'I suppose she has been tolerably well educated?' 'Pretty fairly, but after a desultory fashion. I fancy she has picked up knowledge somehow, as a bird picks up crumbs; her French accent is perfect, and she knows a little German. She is mostly deficient in English. I must have a long talk with Mrs. Cranford.' 'I understood Polly was to take lessons from her?' 'You must take an early opportunity of making her acquaintance; she is truly excellent; the girls are fortunate in having such an instructress. Do you know, Chrissy is already a fair Latin scholar.' 'Chrissy! you mean Olive, surely?' 'No, Chriss is the bluestocking—does Euclid with the boys, and already develops a taste for mathematics. Mr. Lambert used to direct her severer studies. I believe Richard does it now. Olive's talents lie in quite another direction.' 'I am anxious to know—is she really clever?' asked Mildred, astonished at this piece of information. 'I believe she is tolerably well read for a girl of her age, and is especially fond of languages—the modern ones I mean—though her father has taught her Latin. I have always thought myself, that under that timid and lethargic exterior there is a vast amount of imaginative force—certain turns of speech in her happier moments prove it to me. I should not be surprised if we live to discover she has genius.' 'I am convinced that hers is no ordinary mind,' returned Mildred, seriously; 'but her goodness somehow pains one.' Dr. Heriot laughed. 'Have you ever heard Roy's addition to the table of weights and measures, "How many scruples make an olive?" he asked. 'My dear Miss Lambert, that girl is a walking conscience; she has the sort of mind that adds, subtracts, divides, and multiplies duties, till the grasshopper becomes a burden; she is one of the most thoroughly uncomfortable Christians I ever knew. It is a disease,' he continued, more gravely, 'a form of internal and spiritual hyperclimacteric, and must be treated as such.' 'I wish she were more like your ward,' replied Mildred, anxiously; 'Polly is so healthy and girlish—she lives too much to have time for always probing her feelings.' 'You are right,' was the answer. 'Polly is just the happy medium, neither too clever nor too stupid—a loving-hearted child, who will one of these days develop into a loving-hearted woman. Is she not delicious with her boyish head and piquante face—pretty too, don't you think so?' And as the sound of the girls' voices reached them at this moment, Dr. Heriot rose, and a few minutes afterwards Mildred saw him cross the court, with Polly and Chrissy hanging on each arm. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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