Touch not the Nettle. A story

Chapter I

A golden autumn evening, warm air laden with perfume, a light hreeze stirring the branches of the trees, myriads of winged creatures humming and buzzing around. A broad grassy terrace, overlooking a wide expanse of richly cultivated country, through which a river winds its way with many turns and bends. Behind the terrace a densely wooded slope. This is the scene. The actors are a young man and a young woman. She is sitting on a rustic bench, whilst he sprawls on the grass at her feet. It is apparent that she has just returned from a ride, for she is dressed in a riding-habit, and has taken off her hat, which lies on the seat beside her, while a mounted groom, leading a horse on which is a side saddle, is disappearing down the long terrace. This young woman's age might be eighteen, or it might be five and twenty.

There is nothing girlish about her. No one would think of mentioning her as " a girl." She would always be spoken of as " a young woman." Her companion, on the contrary, would by most grown-up persons be called " a boy." And so in truth he is. His years number the same as hers, namely, eighteen ; but at that age a boy is often still a boy, while a girl is already a woman. And from the appearance of these young people, as well as from their conversation, it might well be believed that the young woman was the senior by some years. Euphemia, or as she was generally called Effie, Garstin, was no bad specimen of what, if it did not happen that she was the only daughter of a reputed millionaire, I should call a middle-class English woman. The fact of her being presumably a great heiress, and of her having received the best education that money could procure, had caused the fact to be glossed over that she had never had a grandfather worth mentioning.

And though the old county families never spoke of the Garstins without prolix explanations of Mr. Garstin's rise in life, and took care to let all those who were ignorant upon the subject know that he had made all his money in trade and was therefore not upon a par with them, yet somehow or other that " almighty dollar," as our cousins on the other side of the ocean call it, had clone its duty by him and his belongings, and when ever there was a gathering of county families the Garstins were certain to be found thereat. And Effie was a woman who would never have passed unnoticed even amongst the noblest born and best bred women in the land. Hers were the face and form that a Titian would have idolised into a Bella Donna, a Judith, a Sibyl, or in short any perfect type of massive, sensual beauty.

She was not beautiful, nor an37thing like beautiful. But her appearance was striking, and a painter or a poet would have raised it into beauty. Her face was not oval, but would so have been drawn. Her blue eyes would have received a darker tinge. Her eyebrows and eyelashes also would have been deepened. Her creamy white skin, with the rich colour on her cheeks, would have been delicately painted. The hair which her enemies called red, and her friends auburn, would have shone against it like burnished gold. And the short, well-shaped throat and rounded bust would have been drawn in perfect proportion. In fact, a painter would have refined and idealised until he had produced as a portrait of Euphemia Garstin, a form and face fit to represent Juno or Hebe. Her companion was a contrast to Effie in every respect.

Edward Stanley had blue blood running in his veins, and yet he was no Adonis. On the contrary, he was a slight, pale youth, whose sole pretension to beauty was maintained by the sweet ness of his smile, and the animation of his counte nance when he spoke. Effie Garstin, too, was an heiress ; Edward Stanley hardly knew what it was to have half-a-crown which he could spend without cpiestioning or deliberation. And yet the pair had been friends and playfellows from earliest childhood, 1—2 for Edward's widowed mother rented a small cot tage in Mr. Garstin's magnificent park ; and as it so happened that both she and her husband were the younger children of noblemen, their poverty was condoned by the Garstin family on account of the great names with which they were con nected. The conversation between the young people at this moment, however, would not seem to be of the most friendly kind.

The boy's face is flushed, and he bites viciously at a blade of grass which he is twisting round his fingers. Effie looks calmly down upon him from her higher position, and a half-smile plays round her mouth while she says : " You needn't get so cross about it, Ned." " Cross ! I'm not cross. Only I must say it's rather hard upon a fellow to treat him as you treat me. And it's always been exactly the same. You've always prophesied ill of me, and you think me the greatest fool and idiot under the sun. You've always said that I should never get any prize I tried for, and have never given me an atom of credit when I have got them, and it's only once I've come home without one." " That was just once too often, and besides, you know you've always had a great deal of luck at school; you've never had any really clever boys against you, to force you to work to the very ut most."

" Perhaps you might not think them clever, but the masters and all the other fellows do. However, I certainly do intend to work, to please the mother, if for no other reason." " Your mother would believe that you worked, and would look upon you as a model for aU young men, if you were as idle as Punch." " And you wouldn't even give me a scrap of credit if I worked myself to death, or got up to the tip-top of the ladder — " " Oh yes, I should. You've not tried that yet." " I have. At least, I've worked to the very ut most of my power — " " Nonsense." " I have. To the very utmost of my power to please you, and you've never once said a kind or encouraging word to me. H'm ! I must say it's pleasanter to work for my mother." " Probably. But the pleasantest things are not always the most profitable or the most wholesome."

At these words the boy sprang to his feet, and with flushed face exclaimed : " By Jove ! Effie, you shall be sorry some day that you ever treated me as you do. You're enough to drive a fellow mad. But you shall see whether you're right or not. I know what I have in me, and I'll make you eat your words some day — I swear I will !" " Don't swear, that's a bad habit to get into ; and don't indulge in heroics, they don't become you. You've made yourself quite hot." "Effie, you're enough to provoke a saint. You pretend to care for one, and this is the way you go on. A truly lively recollection I shall have of coming to say good-bye to you! Not one single kind word !" " Kind words wouldn't be worth having if they were not well-earned." " Pshaw ! Earned or not earned, no one need hope for them from you.

Well, I must go now; good-bye." " Aren't you coming up to the house ?" " No. I said good-bye to your mother this afternoon. Effie rose from her seat, and taking the boy's hand, kissed his cheek, which he turned somewhat sulkily towards her. " Good-b}7e, Ted. Write as soon as you can, and tell your mother I shall come and see her to-morrow afternoon." He seemed as though wishing to say something more, while for a moment he held Effie's hand tightly, and looked earnestly iu her face, but ap parently changing his mind, relaxed his hold, and only said : " Good-bye, Effie. God bless you." Then turned and began making his way down the hill-side. " Ted ! Ted !" called Effie, and in a moment he was again by her side. She held out her hand once more, and drawing him to her, again kissed his cheek. " Good-bye, Ned.

Be a good boy, and then everybody will love you." The boy's brow flushed, and he broke from her with an angry exclamation, and bounded down the hill-side. Effie stood on the terrace watching his lithe, active figure, and a softer expression spread over her hitherto almost cynical countenance. As he disappeared, she, too, turned from the terrace, and with a sigh, " Poor old Ted," ending in a smile, entered one of the paths which led through the wood.

Chapter II

Effie sauntered through the wood for about a quarter of a mile, until, in fact, the path she was following led over a bridge spanning a miniature waterfall, whence the water spread into a lake dotted with patches of water-lilies and white swans. From the edge of the lake, smooth, closely-cut turf spread upwards over a knoll, on the summit of which stood a large white house, and close beside the bridge, overhanging the water, was a rustic summer-house, to one of the piles of which a gaily painted boat was at the present moment moored. As Effie's footsteps sounded on the bridge, a boy's face came to the window of the summer-house. " Hulloa, Eff ! 's that you ? Come and look what we've got here. You'll soon see what your origin was." Then, as Effie came in : " Now then, Pro fessor, show her what we've found.

Ugh ! don't ! Nasty ugly thing ! E ! 0 ! ah ! That's what girls say, isn't it ? But Eff won't, I've trained her too well for that, eh, Eff?" Effie smiled kindly at the boy. " What a monkey you are, Charlie!" she said, as she watched him dancing round the place, cutting capers and pulling faces like the veriest London gamin. There were only three Garstins, and the elder brother was as much older than Effie as Charlie was younger. John, the eldest of the family, however, and Effie did not manage to hit it off particularly well ; but the bright, though sickly-looking Charlie was her darling. Indeed, he was the pet of the whole house hold, partly from being the youngest, and the sur vivor of many children who had been born after Effie, but only to die as soon as born ; partly because he had from his cradle been weakly and ailing.

He whom Charlie termed Professor was the boy's tutor, and only lately installed in that post. He had been destined for the church, but had found that technical difficulties stood in the way of his taking the necessary oaths, and had therefore sought other means of gaining a livelihood. " Have you found any treasures, Mr. Adams 1" asked Effie. The Professor, who was examining some object by a microscope, looked up. He was a small, dark man, mouse-like in the quietude of his movements and voice, no less than in the keen black eyes which he now turned upon Effie. " Nothing very wonderful in the way of novelty," he replied ; " but things which have astonished Charlie, as they do every other beginner." " May I look ?" asked Effie, sitting down beside the rustic table, on which lay strings of what is comrnonly caued "duckweed," one or two small bottles of water, and various lenses belonging to the microscope.

" What have you here now 1" " I know, I know ; let me tell her, Professor," cried Charlie, skipping up to the table. " Let's look. Oh, I see ! Have you got it right ? That's a little wee tiny scrap of bancheria magnified eight hundred times, and all those creatures careering about are actinocrinites, which are protozoa, only the Professor don't believe it because he thinks animal and vege table are aU one ; and so you needn't flatter your self, Miss Eff, that you were raised from anything so nice as an oyster because your protoplasm was nasty green weed like that, or something lower still perhaps." Mr. Adams smiled a quiet unrejoicing smile as the boy rattled on. " Your sister will not be much the wiser for your explanation, Charlie." ■ * " Oh ! won't she ! You don't know Eff as well as I do.

She takes it all in, bless you !" " I wish I might join Charlie's lessons," said Effie, now looking up from the microscope. " Would you mind it ? or would it be too troublesome to you to explain everything ? Are you one of those horrid men who think a woman is good for nothing but to sit by the fire and do worsted-work ?" Mr. Adams, as he was wont, began a sentence nervously two or three times, and then brought it out full length. " I think that as a rule women have not sufficient application and perseverance for studies of this sort. But I should be most happy to be of help or use to you in explaining anything you felt an interest in, so far as my own limited knowledge goes. You could always leave off if you grew tired of such a study; and in my opinion no knowledge, however slight it may be of any subject, is wasted.

It en ables you at all events to sympathise with those who pursue it even if you yourself grow weary and give it up." " I don't think I should grow weary of any study as long as I had some one with greater knowledge than my own to help me," said Effie, rising from the table. " But do you really believe that men and women are only _ developments of these lower creatures ?" Mr. Adams was examining a small fossil, and paused before replying. Nor did he raise his head when at length his answer came. " My dear Miss Garstin, what is belief? That question, as preg nant to my thinking as that other question, what is truth ? is also as unanswerable. Belief can only be the result of knowledge, and knowledge " he paused, and then added with a sigh, " one sometimes wishes to have been born a hundred years later.

But perhaps it will be the same thing then — men groping towards the light, and now and again making a short step onwards." " But of late years surely there has been wonder ful progress towards knowledge," said Effie. " You can't feel the want of knowledge, I am sure. My father always talks of your books as of some of the most learned and wonderful of the present day." The Professor blushed up to the roots of his black hah\ " It would be hard," he said, " if lifelong study did not obtain some result for the benefit of those who are unable to spend time upon science. But the further one advances, the more one feels how absolutely nothing one knows. However — " and he sighed, " there would be nothing left to live for if one could know all one wishes to know without taking some pains about it.

Not that the trouble we take is wearisome, far from it ; when once that certain amount of drudgery, which must always at tend the commencement of anything that is worth doing, is got over, the time and the pains one spends become one's chief pleasure." Effie looked round the summer-house, and, seeing that her brother had fidgeted off, said : " I wish you would tell me one thing. Don't all these studies shake your faith in everything that you were taught as a child ? It seems to me, from the little I know and have read upon the subject, that if one believes in the investigations and dis coveries made of late years, all the good old-world legends must fall to the ground. I always fancy scientific men like you must be so unhappy." The tutor again smiled the smile which indicated no mirth, while he answered : " I have no claim whatever to the title of a scientific man.

I am the merest dabbler in science ; but certainly I have no reason to call myself unhappy on account of any thing that I or any other investigator may have discovered." " I don't mean exactly unhappy" said Effie, "but uncomfortable, in all matters connected with re ligion. For instance, don't you laugh at the idea which we all cling to, of the world and everything in it having been created in six days ?" "I don't laugh at any serious belief, my dear young lady," replied he. " But I would strive to do away with superstition and unreasoning faith in tradition." " What do you mean ?" asked Effie. And then added, without waiting for his reply, " It's so very easy for you who can calculate the number of years that it has taken for certain strata to be formed, and can compute the changes of temperature, and I don't know what besides, by the fossils jrou find in them, to say : ' The world must have been so many hundred or thousand years in making.' But what do you ex pect me to do when I go to the Sunday-school, and give my class a lesson upon the first chapter of Genesis ?

I know no learned man nowadays believes in that six days, and I'm not quite sure that I do myself. But you know my mother would think I don't know what if I ventured to say so to her." " How do we measure our days ?" asked the Professor. " Well," replied Effie, " by the rising and setting of the sun, I suppose." " Exactly. And which ' day ' was the sun created, according to the narrative in the Pentateuch ?" Effie calculated. " Light and darkness, then the firmament, then the earth and the sea and the herb and creeping things. Why, the fourth day the sun was created." " Ah ! then how were the three previous ' days ' measured ?" Before Effie could reply, Charlie's voice was heard from the boat calling to his sister and the Professor to join him. " Do come out, it's quite cool now, and we shall have a jolly pull down to the end of the lake.

Eff, you come and steer, and the Professor and I will take you down in a brace of shakes." But while the boy was speaking a loud bell sounded from the house, and his sister replied : " Some other time, Charlie ; there's the dressing beU now, so I must go in." Then turning to the Professor, " Did you really mean what you said just now ?" she asked. " May I join Charlie's natural history lesson ?" " I shall be only too delighted," he answered. " But I am afraid you must be prepared for a certain amount of irregularity in the time at which it takes place. It is not reaUy one of his lessons, but rather a rational occupation for his play-hours."

Chapter III

Effie walking quickly across the lawn towards the house, was met at one of the open drawing-room windows, through which she was entering, by her mother. Mrs. Garstin was a woman whom it is not easy to describe. The most salient point in her character was its entire absence of will. She had never in her life been obeyed by her children from the hour they could crawl ; no servant ever dreamt of carrying out her views unless they coincided with his or her own, or had been conveyed through the medium of Mr. or Miss Garstin ; no family arrangement was ever submitted for her judgment except for form's sake, and after every detail even had been decided. Yet was she beloved both by husband and children in no ordinary measure, though it must be confessed she was bullied in about equal proportion. Her servants liked and imposed upon her.

The poor people round did the same. Her tvealihier neighbours laughed at her, though the harshest judg ment that had ever been passed upon her was the remark made by a cranky, bilious old bachelor who once observed, "If you wish to know the ne plus ultra of muddle that can be made of a report, you should tell it to Mrs. Garstin, and then hear it from some one else to whom she has repeated it." The faculty she possessed of always missing the point of a story, and never by any chance fitting name and circumstance correctly, might have caused incalculable mischief in a gossip-loving neighbourhood. But fortunately Mrs. Garstin's proclivity was so notorious, that any statement made by her was re tailed, so to speak, on authority, like a carefully prepared foot-note, the hearer giving to the fact what credence he chose.

In person Mrs. Garstin had been handsome, and would still have been so had her tendency to embonpoint been less marked. Easy going people, however, are apt to fail in this particular, and it is at all events pleasanter to look upon than the thin angular form which the observer is conscious has been worn meagre by continual bicker ing and strife. Mrs. Garstin stepped out of the drawing-room on to the verandah which ran along the side of the house. " 0 Effie dear ! I'm so glad you're come in ; where have you been ? Do run and dress, there's a good child. Mr. Berkeley is coming to dinner. Where's Mr. Adams ?" " What's Mr. Berkeley coming for ?" asked Effie, her face brightening at hearing his name. " He came this afternoon soon after you went out, and wanted to talk to you about the schools, or Hannah Moreley, or something " " More probably the new organ," suggested Effie.

" New organ ! Was it ? Oh, I don't think so. Perhaps it was but, however, it was something or another he wanted to see you about, so I told him he'd better come back to dinner and have a good talk with you. Poor man ! I'm sure he never looks as if a good dinner could do him any harm. Mrs. Stevens, or Mrs. Jones, was it ?— I'm sure I forget ; but, however, some one who was calling here the other day said that he starves himself. Never eats meat and fasts four days in the week. Oh ! I think it's very wrong of young men not to take more care of their health. Where can Mr. Adams be ? Have you seen him ? I wanted him to come in to dinner to-night. Bo run and dress, there's a dear, or you'll keep papa waiting." " You won't get Mr. Adams to-night," said Effie. " I've just left him and Charlie going off in the boat to hunt for water-spiders or something of the sort.

I should think they were well over their knees in mud by this time." " Oh how tiresome !" exclaimed Mrs. Garstin in an imperturbably placid voice. " Well, we must just sit down to a crooked table, that's all. Bo go and dress, Effie ; you will be so late." " All right, mother ; lots of time. Why should the table be crooked ? I thought Jack was dining out ?" " No. He has changed his mind. But never mind, I'll see to it, I'll see to it. You run upstairs and dress, there's a good girl." Effie made her way to the door, stopping, how ever, at a table on which were vases of all the loveliest flowers hot-houses and rose-gardens could produce, to pick out a pale blush-rose which struck her fancy as she passed. When she had at last disappeared Mrs. Garstin's voice came after her: " Effie, Effie ! come back ; dear, I want you a moment.

What dress are you going to wear ?" "I'm sure I don't know, mother. Whatever Marsh has got out for me, I suppose. But if you keep me much longer I shall most likely come down with none at all on." " 0 Effie ! how can you. You naughty girl ! Did you meet Teddy ? But, however, we'll talk about that afterwards. Let me see, there was something I wanted to say to you — what was it I wonder — I dare say I shall think of it presently. Oh, I know — mind you have your hair nicely done to-night. Somebody told me that Mr. Berkeley takes great notice of ladies' dress." Effie had trained herself to bear good humouredly with her mother's puerilities, and made no remark to this speech, but she turned a studiously deaf ear when on arriving at the foot of the staircase she once more heard her mother's voice calling her back.

She looked very handsome, it must be owned, when she re-appeared in a pale apple-green dress, against which her beautiful white skin shone with a pearl-like brilliancy, while one thick long curl of her copper-coloured hair lay in strong contrast upon her snowy bosom. " I have a great deal upon which to consult you, Miss Garstin," said Mr. Berkeley as soon as she had shaken hands with him. I think I see my way now to introducing some of the changes in the service that you suggested." " I'm very glad to hear it," replied Effie in her off-hand way. " But don't talk about it now, I'm ravenous, and we can discuss the whole subject much better when we've had our dinner. Don't you think so ?" she added in a gentle voice, seeing that he looked hurt at his hobby having as it were the door slammed in its face.

Dinner was announced, and whilst it is being eaten, I will introduce Mr. Berkeley. The parish of Kissington, to which the Garstins belonged, had for many years laboured under the dis advantage of having the souls belonging to it left to the care of a shepherd who had outlived his strength both mental and physical. He could, with the help of a certificated schoolmaster, who read the lessons for him in a stentorian voice and with finished elocution, just manage to mumble through the two services on Sunday. But this, and the concoction of the two appertaining sermons, which few of his con gregation could hear, and fewer still understand, was all that he was capable of accomplishing during seven days. Poor old man ! who could blame him ? He had no pension to fall back upon ; his living was his all, and it was either holding on to that so long as life lasted, or starvation for himself and his family.

In course of time however he went the way of all flesh, and was succeeded by Mr. Berkeley, a young and ardent High Churchman of good family and comfortable means, who was in all things estimable, though perhaps, like many of his age and with his views, too anxious to introduce sweeping changes, and too much cast down when obstacles rose one after another in his path. Excepting the Earl of Silvermead, to whom belonged half the county in which Kissington was situated, but who preferred living on some of his other estates, and was therefore seldom seen in the neighbourhood, Mr. Garstin was the richest and most influential of Mr. Berkeley's parishioners, and in Effie the latter had found, during the year which had elapsed before my tale begins, a valuable and efficient coadjutor. On first arriving in the neighbourhood he had caused it to be proclaimed that " the celibacy of the Anglican priesthood " was an article of his creed, which proclamation would, as he hoped and believed, secure the fortress of his heart against the attacks of any fair young virgin of his flock who might be disposed to lay siege thereto.

But — oh ! men, men ! when will ye learn wisdom ? — he had in his fancied impregnability quite overlooked the possibility of a traitor being found in his own garrison. I do not say that he was at this time in love with Effie Garstin. But he was a man, young and passionate. She, a woman, young and handsome. Their inter course during their acquaintance unrestrained ; they had common views, common interests, common topics of conversation, apart from the rest of the world. And he was beginning to feel that dangerous craving for her society, and still more dangerous peacefulness when that craving was satisfied by finding himself tete-d-tete with her, which ought to have warned him, and bid him shut up and guard all the passes leading to his stronghold. And Effie ? Well, she certainly was not in love 2—2 with Mr. Berkeley.

But is there one young woman in the universe who would not be pleased and flattered by the attentions of a decidedly good looking young man, of good family, and good means, whose coat reached down to his heels and fitted an elegant figure to perfection ; whose face was white and wan through hard work and fasting; whose voice though loud and clear at the reading desk or pulpit, fell to its softest tone while addressing her; and above all, who, firm and decided though he appeared on most matters, could yet sometimes be moved to change his views in deference to her opinion ? Surely the paragon to whom all this is nought has yet to be born !