Missing, Mrs. Humphry Ward [free e books to read online .TXT] 📗

and then said quietly---'Thank you. I'm glad you did.'

They left the garden and wandered through some rocky fields on the side of the fell, till they came to one where Linnaeus or any other pious soul might well have gone upon his knees for joy. Some loving hand had planted it with daffodils--the wild Lent lily of the district, though not now very plentiful about the actual lakes. And the daffodils had come back rejoicing to their kingdom, and made it their own again. They ran in lines and floods, in troops and skirmishers, all through the silky grass, and round the trunks of the old knotted oaks, that hung as though by one foot from the emerging rocks and screes. Above, the bloom of the wild cherries made a wavering screen of silver between the daffodils and the May sky; amid the blossom the golden-green of the oaks struck a strong riotous note; and far below, at their feet, the lake lay blue, with all the sky within it, and the softness of the larch-woods on its banks.

Nelly dropped into the grass among the daffodils. One could not have called her the spirit of the spring--the gleeful, earthly spring--as it would have been natural to do, in her honeymoon days. And yet, as Hester watched her, she seemed in her pale, changed beauty to be in some strange harmony with that grave, renewing, fruitful heart of all things, whereof the daffodils and the cherry-blossom were but symbols.

Presently there were voices beneath them--climbing voices that came nearer--of a man and a woman. Nelly's hand begun to pluck restlessly at the grass beside her.

Cicely emerged first, Cicely in white, very bridal, and very happy. Very conscious too, though she did not betray it by a movement or a look, of the significance of this first meeting, since Sarratt's death, between her brother and Nelly. But they met very simply. Nelly went a little way down the steep to meet them. She kissed Cicely, and gave Farrell her hand.

'It was very good of you to come.'

But then it seemed to Hester, who could not help watching it, that Nelly's face, as she stood there looking gravely at Farrell, shewed a sudden trouble and agitation. It was gone very quickly, however, and she and he walked on together along a green path skirting the fells, and winding through the daffodils and the hawthorns.

Cicely and Hester followed, soon perceiving that the two ahead had slipped into animated conversation.

'What can it be about?' said Cicely, in Hester's ear.

'I heard the word "Charcot,"' said Hester.

The bride listened deliberately.

'And William's talking about an article in the _Lancet_ he's been boring Herbert and me with, by that very specialist that Nelly's so keen about,--the man that is going to have her trained to nurse his cases. Something about the new treatment of "shock." I say, Hester, what an odd sort of fresh beginning!'

Cicely turned a look half grave, half laughing on her companion--adding hastily--

'The specialist's married!'

Hester frowned a little.

'Beginning of what?'

'Oh, I don't know,' said Cicely, with a shrug, 'But life is long, Mademoiselle Hester, and now they've got a common interest--outside themselves. They can talk about _things_--not feelings. Goodness!--did you hear that? William is head over ears in his new antiseptic--and look at Nelly--she's quite pink! That's what I meant by her being _horribly impersonal_. She used the word "scientific" to me, three times, when I went to see her--_Nelly_!'

'If she's impersonal, I should doubt whether William is,' said Hester drily.

'Ah, no--poor Willy!' was Cicely's musing reply. 'It's a hard time for him. I don't believe she's ever out of his mind. Or at least, she wouldn't be, if it weren't for his work. That's the blessed part--for both of them. And now you see--it gives them such a deal to talk about'--her gesture indicated the couple in front. 'It's like two sore surfaces, isn't it, that mustn't touch--you want something between.'

'All the same, William mustn't set his heart--'

'And Hester--dear old thing!--mustn't preach!' said Cicely laughing, and pinching her cousin's arm. 'What's the good of saying that, about a man like William, who knows what he wants? Of course he's set his heart, and will go on setting it. But he'll _wait_--as long as she likes.'

'It'll be a long time.'

'All right! They're neither of them Methuselahs yet. Heavens!--What are they at now? _Ambrine_!--_she's_ talking to _him_'

But some deep mingled instinct, at once of sympathy with Nelly and pity for Farrell, made Hester unwilling to discuss the subject any more. George's death was too recent; peace and a happy future too remote. So she turned on Cicely.

'And please, what have you done with Herbert? I was promised a bridegroom.'

'Business!' said Cicely, sighing. 'We had hardly arrived for our week's leave, when the wretched War Office wired him to come back. He went this morning, and I wanted to go too, but--I'm not to racket just now.'

Cicely blushed, and Hester, smiling, pressed her hand.

'Then you're not going to Rome?'

'Certainly I am! But one has to give occasional sops to the domestic tyrant.'

They sauntered back to tea in Hester's garden by the river, and there the talk of her three guests was more equal and unfettered, more of a real interchange, than Hester ever remembered it. Of old, Farrell had been the guardian and teacher, indoctrinating Nelly with his own views on art, reading to her from his favourite poets, or surrounding her in a hundred small matters with a playful and devoted homage. But now in the long wrestle with her grief and remorse, she had thought, as well as felt. She was as humble and simple as ever, but her companions realised that she was standing on her own feet. And this something new in her--which was nothing but a strengthened play of intelligence and will--had a curious effect on Farrell. It seemed to bring him out, also; so that the nobler aspects of his life, and the nobler proportions of his character shewed themselves, unconsciously. Hester, with anxious joy, guessed at the beginnings of a new moral relation, a true comradeship, between himself and Nelly, such as there had never yet been--which might go far. It masked the depths in both of them; or rather it was a first bridge thrown over the chasm between them. What would come of it?

Again she rebuked herself even for the question. But when the time for departure came, and Nelly took Cicely into the house to fetch the wraps which had been left there, Farrell drew his chair close to Hester's. She read agitation in his look.

'So she's actually going to take up this new nursing? She says she is to have six months' training.'

'Yes--don't grudge it her!'

Farrell was silent a moment, then broke out--'Did you ever see anything so small and transparent as her hands are? I was watching them as she sat there.'

'But they're capable!' laughed Hester. 'You should hear what her matron says of her.'

Farrell sighed.

'How much weight has she lost?'

'Not more--as yet--than she can stand. There's an intense life in her--a spiritual life--that seems to keep her going.'

'Hester--dear Hester--watch over her!'

He put out a hand and grasped his cousin's.

'Yes, you may trust me.'

'Hester!--do you believe there'll ever be any hope for me?'

'It's unkind even to think of it yet,' she said gravely.

He drew himself up, recovering self-control.

'I know--I know. I hope I'm not quite a fool! And indeed it's better than I thought. She's not going to banish me altogether. When this new hospital's open--in another month or so--and she's settled there--she asks me to call upon her. She wants me to go into this man's treatment.' There was a touch of comedy in the words; but the emotion in his face was painful to see.

'Good!' said Hester, smiling.

When the guests were gone, Nelly came slowly back to Hester from the garden gate. Her hands were loosely clasped before her, her eyes on the ground. When she reached Hester she looked up and Hester saw that her eyes were full of tears.

'He'll miss her very much,' she said, sadly.

'Cicely?'

'Yes--she's been a great deal more to him lately than she used to be.'

Nelly stood silently looking out over the lake for a while. In her mind and Hester's there were thoughts which neither could express. Suddenly, Nelly turned to Hester. Her voice sounded strained and quick. 'I never told you--on my way here, I went to see Bridget.'

Hester was taken by surprise. After a moment's silence she said--

'Has she ever repented--ever asked your forgiveness?

Nelly shook her head.

'But I think--she would be sorry--if she could. I shall go and see her sometimes. But she doesn't want me. She seems quite busy--and satisfied.'

'Satisfied!' said Hester, indignantly.

'I mean with what she is doing--with her way of living.'

There was silence. But presently there was a stifled sob in the darkness; and Hester knew that Nelly was thinking of those irrecoverable weeks of which Bridget's cruelty had robbed her.

Then presently bedtime came, and Hester saw her guest to her room. But a little while after, as she was standing by her own window she heard the garden door open and perceived a small figure slipping down over the lawn--a shadow among shadows--towards the path along the lake. And she guessed of course that Nelly had gone out to take a last look at the scene of her lost happiness, before her departure on the morrow.

Only twenty-two--with all her life before her--if she lived!

Of course, the probability was that she would live--and gradually forget--and in process of time marry William Farrell. But Hester could not be at all sure that the story would so work out. Supposing that the passion of philanthropy, or the passion of religion, fastened upon her--on the girlish nature that had proved itself with time to be of so much finer and rarer temper than those about her had ever suspected? Both passions are absorbing; both tend to blunt in many women the natural instinct of the woman towards the man. Nelly had been an old-fashioned, simple girl, brought up in a backwater of life. Now she was being drawn into that world of the new woman--where are women policemen, and women chauffeurs, and militant suffragists, and women in overalls and breeches, and many other strange types. The war has shown us--suddenly and marvellously--the adaptability of women. Would little Nelly, too, prove as plastic as the rest, and in the excitement of meeting new demands, and reaching out to new powers, forget the old needs and sweetnesses?

It might be so; but in her heart of hearts, Hester did not believe it would be so.

Meanwhile Nelly was wandering through the May dusk along the lake. She walked through flowers. The scents of a rich earth were in the air; daylight lingered, but a full and golden moon hung over Loughrigg in the west; and the tranced water of the lake was marvellously giving back the beauty amid which it lay--form, and colour, and distance--and all the magic of the hour between day and night. There was no boat, alack, to take her to the island; but there it lay, dreaming on the silver water, with a great hawthorn in full flower shewing white upon its rocky side. She made her way to the point nearest to