The Face of Death. A Westmoreland story

Front matter

A WESTMORELAND STORY BY E. VINCENT BRITON AUTHOR OF "AMYOT BROUGH," "SUE," ETC. " The face of Death is towards the Sun of Life." Tennyson. LONDON SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED Essex Street, Strand Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay. We, the poor earth's dying race, and yet No phantoms, watching from a phantom shore Await the last and largest sense to make The phantom walls of this illusion fade, And show us that the world is wholly fair. Tennyson. CONTENTS. CHAP. pAGE I. THE LOWES ... ... ... I II. patty's PHILOSOPHY ... ... ... ... 1 6 III. AWAY AND FORGET ... ... ... ... 30 IV. A MOONLESS SEA... ... ... ... ... 43 v. sir Andrew's wife ... ... ... ... 55 VI. MISS JUDITp WYKE ... ... ... ... 65 VII. LITTLE RIE ... ... ... ... ... 78 VIII. ON THE MOUNTAIN-SIDE... ... ... ... 93 IX. WAITING, WAITING ... ... ... ... 1 03 X. STORM-BEATEN AND BEWILDERED ... ...

Ill XI. A YOUNG MAID'S DREAM... ... ... ... IIO XII. GUESSES ... ... ... ... ... ... 132 XIII. THE SHEPHERD'S COTTAGE ... ... ... 141 XIV. PARSON GILPIN ... ... ... ... ... 161 XV. MISS FAITH'S DECIDED STEP ... ... ... 172 XVI. 'WAIT, CHILD, WAIT' ... ... ... ... 184 XVII. A VERY WARM RECEPTION ... ... ... 1 95 XVIII. NOT FOR HIM ... ... ... ... ... Contents. VIII CHAP. PAGE XIX. 'IT WAS PAST BEARING' ... •■• ■•• 2l6 XX. AN EXPENSIVE LUXURY ... ... ■■• 225 XXI. NOT DARK ... ... ... •■• ••■ 235 XXII. THE NEXT THING TO BE DONE ... ... 246 XXIII. HAS HE FORGOTTEN? ... ... ... ■■■ 261 XXIV. GOING A-COURTING ... ... ... ... 273 XXV. CHANGE MY MIND? NO, INDEED! ... ... 284 XXVI. AN AFTERNOON WALK ... ... ... ... 295 XXVII. BESIDE THE SOLITARY TARN ... ... ... 306 XXVIII. THE FACE OF DEATH ... ... ... ... 320 XXIX. A LONG NIGHT'S WATCH ... ... ... 332 XXX. NOT A RICH MAN'S WIFE ... ... ... THE FACE OF DEATH

Chapter I. The Lowes

He answered, " 'Tis a haunted place, And spell beset." — J. Ingelow. THERE was a vast amount of animated talk in the kitchen of the Lowes. Breakfast was over, the household business had begun, when it was suddenly interrupted by a startling communication from the old housekeeper, who, to use the cook's expression, had come on them " like a thunder-clap, and vanished like a flash of lightning." But cook had a strong way of putting things; the good old housekeeper of seventy years, with her gentle ways and feeble movements, was much misrepresented by such a comparison, and would have been greatly surprised had she overheard it. But she was far too intent on escaping from possible comments and embarrassing questions to linger near the kitchen, and she sped away faster than her rheumatic limbs could well carry her when she saw the butler's look of horror, the cook's uplifted hands, and the younger servants' scarcely suppressed amusement.

" Please go and tell them, Nan," her young mistress B had said— the housekeeper had been her nurse in days gone by, ay, and her father's nurse too—" do tell them for me, I can't, I really can't ; they will laugh and whisper, I know they will, and then who knows what I might do ? — laugh or cry, I don't know which. No, you must do it for me : " and so the old woman had departed on her errand ; and though she had no intention of laughing or crying, she had her own reasons for telling her tidings as briefly as possible, and for returning with all speed to her young lady, lingering in the house keeper's room over the porch to hear how she had sped on her errand. There was a strange smile playing round the young girl's lips as she stood by the window waiting for her nurse's return ; her eyes were fixed on the scene without — the valley beneath, and the hills beyond, where the clouds were casting stray shadows, and hiding now one, and now another of the distant peaks.

She drew a long breath, it was scarcely a sigh, yet there was something as like sadness as her bright face could ever wear, as she said to herself, " The winter will soon be here, those long, long evenings, those endless talks about nothing, and I shall not be able to keep out of her way, as Alan said I must ; no, I must see it and hear it and bear it as best I may. — Well, Nan, how did you get through the telling of it ? " " Just said as few words as I could and come away, and left them to talk themselves hoarse, as no doubt they will." " And what did they say, nurse ? " " Nothing that matters much, my dear." " Nan, tell me, help me to laugh, it's the cure for all my woes." Your woes, Miss Patty ! " " Yes, my woes, nurse ; why, even you don't pity me, though Alan did, brute that he is ; he is going away to-morrow."

"Going! — well, well, Miss Patty, let him, maybe it's better so." " But tell me, Nan, what did Grimes say, and the maids ? did they know, think you ? " " Know what ? Oh, that I've said the same thing, told the same news three times before, aye, just the very same words, ' Sir Andrew is coming home to-day, bringing a new lady with him.' Oh yes, they know, my dear, if that's your meaning ! " The girl assented by a motion of her head. Her eyes were still fixed on the distant hills and on the ever changing streaks of light and shade that fell athwart them ; and the old woman, leaning back in her high backed rocking-chair, watched her wistfully as one who would say, " Get it off your mind, my dear ; you'll feel a deal better afterwards." "Well, Miss Patty," she said at length," I can't say for certain how many of them has heard me say those words.

George Crummock for one ; he looked just scared, and let a whole tray of spoons fall on the kitchen-floor when I said the words. Why, George will be seventy come Martinmas, nigh as old as I ; but the maids, they're for the most part young things from the country round ; what tales they may have heard I cannot say ; but George and I went to school together, and only came to these cold, outlandish parts when the old lady, your grandmother, would have us come, and why we've stayed is more than I can tell you." " Nan, Nan, don't say that." The girl had left the window, and her arms were round the old woman's neck. "You stayed to serve my grandmother, and when she died, to take care of my mother, and then to see to me — me and Alan." " Yes, yes ; that's it," said the old woman ; " and we've left off counting how many times the master has told me to go, and I've said I wouldn't : how many is it, Miss Patty?"

" Oh, hundreds, thousands," laughed the girl ; " but tell me, Nan, what did cook say just now ? " " Fie, for shame, Miss Patty, why do you care to hear their talk ? Old George, he just says, 'And how many more, I wonder ? ' and he gathers up his spoons, and tramps off to his pantry ; and cook, she gives the cat a kick, and says, ' 'Tis a regular blue-bottle, he is.' Blue beard she means, my dear. And the girls and the lads, they were giggling fit to kill themselves, and that new man, he says, ' Well, 'tis wonderful how fond the ladies be of marrying ; ' and that's enough, my dear. Is it laughing or crying you are after all ? " " Both, I think, Nan. Oh, if Sir Andrew could only have heard ; and she too. Does she know, I wonder ? " " She, the new lady ; never a bit, my child, and won't neither till she takes a walk round the churchyard."

The young girl's face, which had been like an April morn, the sunny smile breaking through tears, grew sad at these words. "Ah, Nan," she said, clasping her hands, "what things you have seen in this house ! Is not Alan right when he says there is a ghost in every room ? " " Not for you, child, sure not for you ; and Sir Andrew, — well, as it seems, they don't trouble him neither." " Nurse," said Patty, " is it not hard on me ? Alan says he will wait till to-morrow, and then he will take himself off, and it will be long ere he comes back to the Lowes again." " And where is he going, and why ? ' " Where, ah, that he has not settled ; why he goes you and I can guess, Nan." " It was a foolish thought of yours, Miss Patty ; he is too young to wed, — but three-and-twenty come Christmas. That Christmas, shall I ever forget it ?

Your mother, Miss Patty, had a hard flitting, but ne'er a one so sad as Lady Alice, Master Alan's mother." " Don't, Nan ; sometimes I look at her picture in the dining-room, and my heart aches for her. I'm glad my mother isn't there. Ah me ! and when Miss Hester Caudale comes to-night — I beg her pardon, Lady Wyke, my honoured step-mother, I mean — she'll look at Lady Alice's picture and think to herself, ' My husband's first wife ' ; but of my mother, and of ' Martha, my love, and Lucy, my dear,' she'll not think, will she, Nan ? and none will dare to tell her." " Where would be the good, Miss Patty ? Ah, child, your tears are gone, and for all the sad memories you stir up, there's laughter in your eyes. Well, 'tis good to be young, — laugh while you may." " That I will, Nan, and what's more, I am going to make the most of our one day's freedom.

Alan and I are going up the hill beyond the tarn to take our lunch among the gorse and heather, right away from all the valley mists and ugly shapes and thoughts, and we'll not come back till near dinner-time, when the happy pair will be expecting a welcome ; " and the sunny hearted girl tripped away, calling to her brother as she ran down the wide stairs, and the old woman heard her merry laugh in the garden below a few minutes later. " The happy pair ! " repeated Nan Pudsey ; " well, who knows ? folks aren't all made alike. Well, now I'll have to think what I'll be doing. Didn't I say to myself two years ago that next time, if ever there was a next time, I'd see things sorted different like ? I'd thought to be beforehand with him and spoil the wooing, but he's been over-quick this time, and now maybe it will not be so easy righted ; but for all I'm seventy, and Sir Andrew is as masterful as ever, I'm not so certain sure how it will go between us.

Miss Hester Caudale — yes, I can see her, it was she who came along with her cousin to beg me to find her a pair of dry shoes that drenching day last summer when the children, Master Alan and Miss Patty, had their hay-making picnic. I see her now ; but it was of Master Alan then I thought, though maybe she was older than he, smaller than Miss Patty, and not so bonny by far ; but there was a something in her big grey eyes, and a deal of something about her mouth that it does me good to remember. I wonder, did Sir Andrew never see that look ? There's a woman in the Bible that came into my head when I saw that gleam in her eyes, a woman as drove a nail into a man's head as he lay asleep in her tent ; I've no head for names, and it doesn't matter. But I shouldn't wonder if I see that look come into this new lady's eyes a many times yet, if so be I take to telling her what Master Alan calls the ghost stories of this house.

IfI do, if . . . but that depends on Sir Andrew. . . . Oh, here comes cook ! " " Oh, if you please, Mrs. Pudsey, you was that sudden just now, that you quite took my breath away, and I'd no time to ask about the dinner ; and as for the young mistress, she's gone scratching up the hill 'long with her brother, and who can say when they'll be back ; and The Loiues. 7 there's not a mortal thing settled, and the maids and me we're terrible put out. But, says I to myself, seeing as in this house it's the servants as keep their places and the missuses as don't, we're likely to know what's the right thing to have for dinner without asking any* body's opinion or liking." " Perhaps you're meaning to say as much to the new lady, Mrs. Grimes ? But as for the dinner, you know what Sir Andrew likes, and as there can't be a doubt Lady Wyke will prefer a peaceable meal this first night at least, he'd best have his favourite victuals.

To-morrow she can please herself." " I've been trying to remember what the other ladies used to like," cook remarked, " but, poor dears, they mostly had no appetite at all, and were always taking messes for their health ; and Miss Caudale, as I hear, has a fine constitootion, and will maybe eat like other folks ; at any rate at first, that is till she comes to know what she has undertaken. Married life is an awsome thing, Mrs. Pudsey." " That's as you may take it, Mrs. Grimes. I've buried a husband, and so have you. Lady Wyke that is may do the same, who knows ? ' " Mercy on us, Mrs. Pudsey, do you really think it possible ? but as they say she has a fine constitootion, who knows ? But well, that never so much as entered my head, yet, as you say, she may. But here comes Ellen, she'll be wanting some orders, for, as I said, you went off so sharp, we'd no time to think of anything."

" I've been turning out the bedroom, Mrs. Pudsey, for, thinks I, though there's no time for much washing of curtains and furniture, it shall be as nice as may be for the new lady as is coming, and there are a sight of things as want seeing to. 1 wonder, could you just The Loives. 8 come and give a look round, and tell me what I'd best do with them ? It's terrible upsetting, this sort of thing, and I make no doubt it's troubling you, thinking of all that's come and gone ; but Miss Patty's out, and indeed it's as well. Thank you kindly, I knew you would. See here, under the bed there's a boxful of things which belonged to the last lady, they'll be best put away in the attic, I think ; and all these bits of books and old photo graphs, I'll put them along with them ; but the furniture, hadn't we best shove it about a bit, and make things look different, and bring some of the new fangled-chairs from the spare bedrooms, and a few new vases and gimcracks ?

It's so awfully gloomy, this room, I'm most afraid to come into it after dark ; and as for that long looking-glass, I couldn't venture to look into it by candlelight if you'd pay me ; I should go into screeching 'stericks right off, thinking I saw ghosts and ghostesses looking over my shoulder. It's a fact, Mrs. Pudsey, and I'm not an extraordinary nervous person either." Mrs. Pudsey was silent, apparently examining the chintz curtains which the last summer's sun had left much faded and the worse for wear, and the dark Brussels carpet which no sweeping or shaking would render fresh-looking and cheerful ; but though her eyes seemed to be taking stock of these things, her mind was perhaps more occupied with the pictures which the housemaid's words had recalled to her memory from the dead and sorrowful past.

She roused herself with an effort. " Maybe it will be best," she said. " There's the new curtains in the east bedroom, they're better than these, and there's a many easy-chairs about the house — one or two will look comfortable here ; and take that old run away and find another, and change the washhand china, and get it all done as quick as you can ; there's other things to do, Ellen." " To be sure ; I'm only waiting to hear what's to be done, Mrs. Pudsey. I'm sure we'll all do our best to make the new lady comfortable, for we can't but be sorry for her. Sir Andrew's that unlucky with his ladies — ay, but he's a persevering gentleman." This was, as the housekeeper well knew, an attempt to draw her out, but such attempts were never known to come to good. Ellen was not an old servant, and had no right to make comments on Sir Andrew, or to pity his bride.

Mrs. Grimes might speak her thoughts ; she had known Patty's mother, and the two pale, trembling ladies who had succeeded to her honours ; she had been a wife herself, and had known a wife's trials, and what is to be expected of husbands, and what is right and fitting, and what's not ; but Ellen Fry was an old maid, and had never known the satisfaction of seeing a husband decently buried out of harm's way. What right had she to make remarks about the fearful mysteries of married life ? Brooms and brushes, pails and dusters were her province, and the housekeeper knew well how to keep her in her place. And while the one talked and the other meditated, the brother and sister were already far up the mountain side, bent on forgetting as long as they could the news which had so stirred the household at the Lowes.

Ever light of heart, obstinately and determinately a butterfly, as her brother was wont to say, Patty Wyke could not and would not, under any circumstances, be serious long. " If we stay indoors all day," she had said, "with that silly letter in front of us, you will soon begin to croak, and who knows but I shall catch the complaint . Come out, Alan ; let's go up to the tarn, and lie among the bracken and the heather, and forget that there's any one else in the world but our two selves" — and her brother, whose way it was to follow her lead in trifles, agreed, and forth they started. They crossed the little foot bridge, and sauntered along beside the stream, which at the bottom of the valley slides noiselessly along over mossy rocks and shingle ; then passed through a little plantation of young firs, and began to climb the hill.

Alan strode silently along with the little basket contain ing their lunch, some newspapers and books, slung on a stick over his shoulders, while Patty tripped beside him, and lighter than a mountain goat darted hither and thither, now climbing a steep rock after a bit of stag's head moss to wreathe around her hat, now standing on a slippery point to watch the foaming milky torrent which rushed from the heights ; now singing snatches of simple songs ; now imitating the cry of the plovers as they skimmed away at her approach. " Sing too, Alan," she cried ; " 'tis our last holiday, make the most of it." And together they sang, it had been their wont all through their young lives — " our one accomplishment," Patty used to say ; but the hill-sides were wont to have the best of their music, the lonely heights and the silent paths along the valley were their concert-room, and the song-birds were for the most part their only hearers.

They rested by the tarn, away from the restless tumult of the frothy rush and splash of Sour Milk Ghyll, seated on a great rock, under the shelter of those grim mountains, looking down on the motionless dark waters of the little mountain lake. Patty's fingers were busy with some knitting, her brother made an attempt to read, but failed signally, for Patty had so much to say. She always had, if the truth must be told ; but on this occasion, as by common consent, the subject most present to the minds of both was carefully ignored, and the talk between brother and sister ran on the veriest trifles. " You're such a butterfly, Patty," the brother said, as he stretched himself and yawned ; " you have not said a single sensible thing to-day." And she replied, " Did I ever pretend to be anything else ?

Do you think I want to get that melancholy droop to the corners of my mouth which spoils yours ? No, indeed ; I always stand up for butterflies ; and as to that odious insect, the busy bee, Sir Andrew has taught me to hate the very sound of her name." It was not till the afternoon was beginning to wear away, and afternoon tea, as Patty said, " was becoming an absolute necessity," that they picked up their books and basket, and set off to run down the hill. At the first level part of the road Patty stopped, and said, " Heigho ! now we must be serious ; how hateful it is ! — of all things in the world I detest being sensible — don't you, Alan ? " " Let it alone then," said her brother. " Ah, but that won't do ; we must look that hateful thing, the future, in the face, and make up our minds what we are going to do."

"As far as I'm concerned that's easily settled. I'm going away," replied Alan ; " and what's more, I'm not coming back till the end of the century." " You'll be back in three months' time ; as soon as you're weary of your friends the Lowes will see you again," asserted Patty, laughing. " If I wasn't certain of that I should be downright dismal ; as it is, I think it is perfectly brutal and heartless of you to take flight just now, and leave me all alone." "You'll do better without me. I tell you plainly, Patty, I'm not a boy any longer, and when the old game begins again— and begin it will— I shouldn't be able to stand by and keep the peace." " Shouldn't you ? Then go. I'm for a quiet life ; but there's no escape for me, and what am I to do ? " " Patty, I've been thinking all the morning "Do you think I don't know that ? but thinking won't mend matters."

" Wait a minute, Patty, you must help her ; you've heaps of sense, and you might." " Thank you, sir ; I thought I was nought but a butterfly. I'm humbly grateful ; what's your pleasure ? " " Stand by her, Patty ; such a splendid creature as she is must not be — what shall I say ? — like the others." " I'm nineteen, and she's at least five-and-twenty ; if she can't manage for herself, she's not likely to come to me for help. It's that stupid vow they take which sticks in their throats and spoils their lives. Only think, Alan, if you and I had ever thought we ought to obey Sir Andrew, where should we be now ? " " Where indeed ? " They both laughed merrily. " I do believe if we had learnt to call him father we should have grown up with the same notions. I wonder why we didn't." " I haven't the least idea."

" Nor I. But, Alan, what possesses you to imagine that I could help this new Lad}- Wyke ? Heigho, she'll be here in less than no time now." "Oh, really, if you ask me how, I can't tell you ; but when I look at you, so jolly and up to fun, I can't help wishing you'd show her the way to set about making the best of the horrid scrape she has got into." "I'm not Sir Andrew's wife; should I be jolly if I were ? " " Oh, don't ask me. But, Patty, have a try. If she begins wrong it's all up with her. Don't shake your pretty little head. She's a brave girl, I know, and will die hard." " She needn't die ; but if you feel like that, Alan, stay and help." " Not I, indeed ; I shall be best away. I've no talent for peace-making. I should be more likely to lay violent hands on the old man." " Old, Alan ! you're desperately jealous.

Barely fifty, just a nice age for a man, and so handsome too. Oh, how lucky she thinks herself— Lady Wyke, — and with money and carriages and all that heart can wish, except of course those tiresome step-children. There's the carriage coming over the bridge ; stay and meet them by the gate, Alan, and I'll run in and see if tea is ready in the drawing-room." She flew across the lawn, and Alan watched her light figure skim along until she disappeared among the evergreens, then leaning his arms upon the gate, he waited in gloomy thought the arrival of^the carriage. They were like and yet unlike, this brother and sister. Like in their ways, form, and bearing ; but while the expression of Alan's face was at times gloomy almost to sullenness, his sister's could scarcely ever be said to bear even a trace of anxiety.

Care and Patty were sworn foes. Her brow was rarely clouded for a minute, her blue eyes were for ever laughing, and the tones of her voice were like the echoes of low, sweet music. But Alan's mood was for ever varying ; the morning would ofttimes find him even more joyous and light of heart than his sunny-tempered sister, but there were times when the evening shades would gather round him, and leave him a prey to such gloom as fairly terrified her. " The air of the valley brought fogs and blue devils," he would say, but Patty knew well that the mountain heights had often been the scene of some of her brother's worst fits of despair. She wondered and could not understand. Old Nan had her own explana tion of these gloomy hours, and perhaps she had reason on her side, but of that more anon. The tea was ready for the travellers, and Patty, breathless and blushing, but very fair and lovely, was standing by Alan's side again, before the carriage stopped before the door.

If he was grave and almost sullen, she had smiles in plenty to welcome the bride home. Sir Andrew played his part with solemn dignity. Patty admired, and whispered to Alan — " Practice makes perfect. Each time he does it better." It was a bright home-coming, and as they gathered round the cheerful little wood fire, ever welcome in the early autumn evenings, and sipped their tea, and talked pleasant little nothings about weather and travelling, Lady Wyke looked, and doubtless was, well content. She had come as they all knew from a rather poverty stricken home in Ireland, and the large mansion, with its luxurious furniture and surroundings, in all pro bability represented to her mind's eye freedom from some of the most perplexing trials of everyday life. The delicate china, the hot-house flowers about the rooms, Patty's dainty dress, all spoke to her of a refinement and comfort which had been well-nigh impossible in a home where the one servant had been a clumsy, untaught drudge, and where most of the housework fell to the share of the ladies of the family.

Yet let it not be imagined that the prospect of worldly goods and position had been Hester Caudale's sole or even chief inducement to change her maiden state. The brief period of her courtship had been quite long enough to place her middle-aged but well-favoured lover very high in her regard ; and like many a woman before and since, she had not paused to ask herself how many of the lofty qualities with which she credited him were really his, and how many the creation of her own imagination. The dream was sweet ; to be his first and only love would doubtless have been sweeter, but these children were grown up, the old love was of course quite forgotten. Perhaps it had been a marriage of convenience, some silly child-wife who could not appre ciate the great soul of her husband. Death had brought a release, and now the true marriage was to begin.