A Point of View

Front matter

A POINT OF VIEW All rights reserved A POINT OF VIEW BY CAROLINE FOTHERGILL AUTHOR OF " THE COMEDY OF CECILIA," " A QUESTION OF DEGREE " " A MATTER OF TEMPERAMENT," ETC BRISTOL J. W. Arrowsmith, ii Quay Street LONDON Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent and Co. Limited Hrrowsmttb's 3/6 Series Vol. CONTENTS. Chap. Page I. A HAVEN OF REST II. A TALK WITH SIMON III. ENGAGED ....... IV. COUNTRY PEOPLE V. NEW INTERESTS . . . . . VI. THE REDFORDS VII. ARTHUR IN A NEW LIGHT . VIII. PHILIPPA SURPRISES HERSELF . IX. AN EMERGENCY X. MARRIED ....... XI. A POINT OF VIEW . XII. DRAYTON IS EQUAL TO THE OCCASION XIII. SIMON APPEALS XIV. BEATRICE SEEKS A NEW ALLAY . . . XV. DOROTHEA MAKE5 A BLUNDER . XVI. ARTHUR GETS HIS OPPORTUNITY XVII. PERSUASION ...... XVIII. A COUNTER ARGUMENT . XIX. BEATRICE MAKES ANOTHER EFFORT . XX. THE BREAKING OF THE STORM . . . XXI. A DAY OF DISASTER XXII. AFTER THE STORM XXIII. UNITY

Chapter I

A HAVEN OF REST. SHE supposed there was nothing for it but to go to church. The day before she had ignored the weather signs and set off on a solitary picnic, though the thunder was muttering in the distance when she started, and if she had chosen she might have seen and felt that the atmosphere was full of it. But she had always been in the habit of doing as she chose and of seeing obstacles disperse before her will ; so, as she had made up her mind to spend the day on the hills, she set off. In the most exposed place the storm had overtaken her, and she had been obliged to spend a couple of hours sheltering as best she could and trying to persuade herself that she rather enjoyed it. The rain had lasted the whole day off and on, and she had come home wet through, but with the happy knowledge that she had had her way.

To-day, though there was no thunder, the rain still came down in a hopeless, resigned fashion, as though there were no help for it, and the atmosphere was like a Turkish bath. She dared not repeat her experiment ; for though in that part of the country it is taken as a matter of course that people shall come in wet through every weekday, and no landlady who knows her business would dream of disputing these conditions of her calling, on Sundays visitors are expected to exercise some degree of self-restraint and wet clothes are taken on their merits. She also began to feel her solitude a little irksome. She had come into the neighbourhood a week or two before with a party of friends — amongst them the man to whom, in a fit of extreme impatience with circumstances, she had given a very restricted and conditional promise of marriage.

All had gone well until Philippa, finding her position, under which she had secretly chafed from the beginning, quite intoler able, shook off her burdensome appendage and, leaving the others to their own devices, sought freedom and solitude at Redscrees. As long as the weather had kept fine it had been all very well, but she A HAVEN OF REST. 9 had not counted on a rainy solitude and had already made up her mind to go home on Monday, but this was only Sunday and she was at a loss to know how to get through it. Church seemed the only resource, and she rang the bell and enquired what Redscrees had to offer in the way of churches. There was only one, and to it she went with the comfortable feeling that she was spending her morning well. She had only come to the place on Friday and had no opportunity of seeing what it was like, but she had taken a fancy to it at once, and thought, in a passing way, that she had never been where she had such a sense of peace and restfulness.

It seemed exactly the place to come to if she should ever wish to flee from herself; and she had already come to the conclusion, from a not unvaried ex perience, that ourself is the enemy from which we most often wish to flee and from whom flight is the most difficult. When she saw the church, she remembered having heard of it as being unusually old and interesting, and she regretted that she had not come early enough to look round it before the service. It was truly a beautiful old place and rather wonderful for the neighbourhood, which was deficient in anything but natural beauty. Seeing how carefully tended were both it and the churchyard and how its grey old walls, stained with the storms of centuries, were at present almost hidden in roses and climbing plants of other kinds, she came to the conclusion that the clergyman must be fully alive to the preciousness of his possession, and would possibly preach an interesting sermon.

Inside she met with further encouragement ; the great antiquity of the building, and all its curious and in some cases unique features, had been most carefully preserved ; she began to suspect the vicar of having private means, and, with the severity belonging to her individual point of view, she was inclined to set him down as a bit of an impostor. The organ was a very fine one and the organist clearly loved it; her expectations and curiosity rose high, and it was a disappointment to find after all that the clergyman was of a very ordinary type whom she could not in any way reconcile with his surroundings. Though everything was done most decently and in order, she could not get rid of the impression, somehow conveyed in the man's voice, that he was indifferent and careless, and that some restraining influence was at work to make the service what it was.

She wondered what this could be, and as the service went on she was inclined to think she had A HAVEN OF REST. 11 found it in the presence of a man in the choir, which was large and well-trained, and composed of both young men and girls ; the men wearing surplices and coming with the vicar from the vestry. This choir interested her because while all its members were clearly villagers, the leaders of both men and women evidently belonged to quite another class. The leader of the women was a tall handsome girl with a melancholy face and a bearing of considerable dignity. Philippa was amused at the instinctive way in which she held herself apart from the others; there was no mistaking the fact that she recognised nothing in common between them except the ability to sing. In striking contrast to this was the bearing of the man who faced her across the chancel and who was as perfectly natural and unself-conscious in his manner as she was the reverse.

She could not help wondering who he was ; the difference between himself and his companions was so marked as to be absolutely comical to anyone with her keen sense of humour. When he read the lessons, the contrast only made itself felt still more strongly, for his voice was that of a man of high culture as well as being clear and well-toned. She at once became convinced that his was the restraining presence which in fluenced the vicar ; and doubtless to him was owing the perfect preservation of the church, perhaps even the fine organ and the really musically - minded organist who seemed to love his work. The whole thing was puzzling, and as she listened she found herself realising with something like surprise that the man, whoever he might be, read in the way he did because he liked doing it and believed what he read.

In spite of this, her thoughts wandered much during the service, in which nothing seemed to fit herself or her circumstances. These were just now somewhat involved, and to the consideration of them she gave her practically undivided attention ; her wish being to decide what she should do now she had got rid of what had been troubling her, and how she could secure herself from any further annoyance. Why, she wondered impatiently, did so many men care for her when she cared nothing for them, beyond a certain point, which was usually reached at a rather early stage in their acquaintance ? In the particular case just now before her, it had been longer in coming. She and he had been very good friends for a time, then he had asked her to marry him, Simon had been more than usually pro voking and she had impulsively consented, though with many reservations ; for which he had not failed A HAVEN OF REST. 13 to reproach her, alleging that she had given him encouragement to hope for something better.

She had regretted it from the first moment, and moved impatiently, as, on a calm review of the case, she could not deny that in her annoyance with Simon she had probably given some reason for such a com plaint. The same thing had happened before, though without provocation on her part ; simply because people were stupid and misunderstood her manner, which she always insisted knew no dis tinction of persons. This man had seemed to stand upon another footing ; she had almost believed both in him and herself, but fortunately the awakening had come before it was too late. The ceding to him of certain rights and privileges, and his, as she considered, excessive use of them, had disillusioned her. She saw him in a new light, he was no longer the man she had imagined, the thought of becoming his wife filled her with repugnance.

She found his daily, hourly companionship unendurable, and after a more or less painful and troublesome interview, she had '•' got rid of him " and had fled away hugging to her the old allegiance from which in heart she had never swerved. Now she was free again, and she breathed at ease and enjoyed life and Nature, and her own perfect health and unfettered will, and made some good and prudent resolutions for the more successful conduct of her future affairs. Altogether, she told herself as she left the church at the end of the service, it had been a curious ex perience, and her morning had not been thrown away. The church and the people had been decidedly in teresting. As she walked home and later in the day, she found her thoughts going back to the man who, while not seeming in the least to assert himself, had been the most, in fact the only conspicuous figure in the place, and who had somehow impressed her with the sense of a remarkable personality.

She resolved to tell Simon about him ; she thought he would be interested. The next morning the weather had cleared again and was brilliantly fine ; but she had had enough of solitude, and getting up early she breakfasted betimes, and had left Redscrees before the sun had put forth his strength ; still with the feeling that it was a very haven of rest for anyone suffering from a troubled spirit.

Chapter II

A TALK WITH SIMON. AS it happened she did not see Simon for some time; her usual autumn visit to her old friends, his aunts, who lived with and kept house for him, had to be put off because they had influenza and would not allow her to enter the house, though she would fain have come and " nursed " them through it. Simon, vexed that he could not have her at the usual time, suggested that their apparent unselfishness was only self-indulgence in disguise, because they knew that Philippa, though a charming companion, was very helpless in a sick-room, and would as likely as not have hurried them into their graves through excess of zeal, or because she thought their doctor an old woman : she had often declared that to be the view she took of him. Philippa was disappointed too. She had many reasons for wishing to see Simon, and she thought her old friends foolishly scrupulous.

These two had known one another since the time when she had paid her first visit with her mother to his parents, and he had been inclined to look down on her from the height of his five or six years seniority. When, through his fault, she had been thrown from her pony and severely hurt, she had behaved with great spirit and generosity and had won his respect. They had been friends ever since, the closest, most intimate friends ; neither ever did anything without consulting the other, their views on nearly all matters were in wonderful agreement, they enjoyed the same qualities in people, and were in the habit of looking at life in general with the same lively, rather irresponsible eyes, as if it were all a rather subtle kind of joke perpetrated by some kind power for their special enjoyment.

Since Simon had decided to try to recoup himself for the reductions in rents which public opinion had almost compelled him to make, by trying his luck at novel writing, they had been even closer companions ; and in some ways the novel, which, when she did at last get to Appleford in the early spring, had just been accepted, was almost as much her work as his own. Her gay, decisive spirit was everywhere apparent in it, and no one who knew them both would have any need to ask where he had found his heroine ; the girl who, though very charming, had just the same touch of hardness which was characteristic of Miss Holland. Other points of resemblance too had made her secretly a little uneasy, as she reflected on the completeness of knowledge necessary to have pro duced this finished portrait. When they met again, her fears were justified in so far that she found him changed.

The change, it is true, was subtle and indefinable ; but though some times she succeeded in persuading herself she imagined it, she nevr failed to find her first impression re-established by some convincing in cident, and gradually a kind of nervousness took possession of her, such as we feel when we know something disagreeable is coming upon us. She could not hide from herself that her visit was not as former visits had been, and she had already made up her mind to shorten it and move on to other friends at an early date. Even Miss Rutherford and Miss Geraldine did not seem quite themselves ; though they were more than usually affectionate to her, they were often depressed and preoccupied, as though some secret care weighed upon them, and she thought they watched their nephew with an interest and a hidden excitement which she told herself was laughable, though she never quite succeeded in laughing at it, as she felt the same spirit invading herself.

He was away more than usual and appeared to have lost much of his feeling for things which would once have interested him keenly. She could not stir him for instance about the church at Redscrees and the man she had seen there; her suggestion that with one or two other choice spirits they should go there in the summer and see more of the place and people, was rather waved aside as impracticable for reasons which he did not care to give. Before very long the reason of all this came out, and she knew then it was what she had half-feared from the beginning and had never had courage to acknowledge to herself. He asked her to come out for a stroll in the garden one day after tea, when the daylight had sufficiently lengthened to make it enjoyable. It was very mild and there was a fine sunset, so she agreed and walked out without staying to put on a hat or change her slippers.

As long as they were in the garden he said nothing more than commonplaces ; but, though neither had suggested it, they presently found themselves out side the gates, walking along the narrow, sandy road leading towards the sunset, her skirts making a soft murmur, like leaves in a breeze, as she stepped along with them gathered out of the sand, Since the day before, his restless manner had gone, and he had been like his old self, with an added touch of tender ness which appealed strongly to her, even while she had an odd feeling that she did not directly inspire it. Nevertheless her face wore a look of perfect con tentment and peace ; the calm of the evening seemed to fill her soul and shine out of her brilliant eyes, with a clear softness not often in them. She was too strenuous and alert to often give herself to such moods, and anyone who knew her well seeing her just then, would have said there must be some strong and present reason for its appearance on her face.

Simon walked by her side with something of the same look of absorbed happiness, and every now and then some thought seemed to flash through his mind, bringing an unusual light into his eyes and unclosing his lips as if he were about to speak. It was growing dark, the sunset had begun to fade, and neither looked at the other. She, with her eyes on the darkening sky, was unconsciously following his lead; and he, looking on the ground, walked on and on in silence. Almost anyone looking at them would have said they were lovers. Coming to a gate which was shut interrupted their thoughts and their walk. They stood still and both looked at the soft evening sky with the pale red glow stretching across and the stars beginning to show between the trees standing motionless against it. Both were acutely conscious of the absolutely un broken silence — both returned suddenly to reality.

" I did not know we had come this way," he said, looking round. " I confess I have no idea how we reached this gate," she returned. " How beautiful it all is ! " he went on, leaning against it, so that she saw his curious, almost expressionless features in profile against the sky, and the sight sent a little thrill of emotion through her, making her look away for fear she might betray herself. " I really think I have never taken it fully in until now; it seems to go down into one's soul and to take one completely out of oneself." "It seems to me to make one sink into oneself," she disagreed; rather because she had to say some thing, and forbearing to point out how unusual it was for him to talk of souls as if they existed. "Well," he answered as if he would not be disagreed with, " perhaps I have been sunk in my self too — in fact I am sure I have — these last few days ; but I was finally deciding a matter of the greatest importance, and I have not found it possible to think of anything else.

I should like to tell you about it now." Had she heard any other man talking of his private affairs being of the greatest importance, she would have answered derisively ; but she always made allowances for Simon. He had been brought up to believe in his own supreme importance ; every one with whom he had anything to do had encouraged the idea ; it was scarcely his own fault that he considered himself as the centre of his social universe. But an indescribable feeling rose up in her at his manner and expression and the tone in which he spoke, and she said, speaking very lightly to hide it : " Oh, my dear Simon, is there any need for that ? Our opinions are so generally the same, whatever it is you must not expect me to say anything original." " You are sure to say something original, particularly as you can have no idea of what it is."

" Well let me hear it, and remember that when you have done I shall have something to tell you." " I asked Dorothea Fletcher to marry me yesterday and she consented," he said, in what she thought of afterwards as an indescribable tone. She was glad of the falling darkness, for he stood with his eyes, full of unusual eagerness fixed upon her face ; and their eagerness, not being for her, she had been obliged to meet them and to answer with out hesitation : " Surely, Simon, you are not surprised at that ! " " I told you you would say something original," he said, with a half-laugh. " I was rather surprised, and I am certain everyone else will be ; we are considered to be very unlike." " From the little I have heard I should think you are, but that may be rather in your favour." " It is only on the surface ; in all essentials we think alike."

She felt inclined to ask what, in Dorothea's opinion were essentials ; but would not embarrass him in his hour of triumph, so she only said cheerfully : " Well, after all, that is the essential." " You are the first person I have told," he went on. " I wanted you to know first." " I think you ought to have told your aunts first ; I could quite well have waited till to-morrow." " You don't speak enthusiastically," he said, in a grudging tone. " I don't feel enthusiastic, how can I ? I don't know Dorothea Fletcher, except by name as a new comer since I was here last." " She has not called since you came, I know. She has never had influenza and is very nervous about it. But surely my aunts have spoken of her ? " " Only casually, they never talk about her." He said nothing : this silence on the part of his aunts was ominous; he hoped they were not going to be troublesome ; he had always felt they did not like Dorothea.

" Surely you congratulate me," he went on in an injured tone. " Not until I have seen her and found out what she is like; I know nothing about her, and for any thing I can tell to the contrary, you may be acting very foolishly." She spoke in her most indifferent tone, for she dared not show any feeling, and after all, she assured herself, what she said was perfectly true. " Your originality is positively crushing," he said sarcastically. " I never heard of one friend refusing to congratulate another on his engagement. I congratulated you when you engaged yourself to that idiot, Lonsdale, last year." "And again when it was at an end, I remember. That should have taught you a lesson on the folly of offering hasty congratulations." " Dorothea is an angel." "I took that for granted, and self-evident facts don't call for congratulation."

" She has refused better offers for my sake." " If it is a matter of bidding, that was a mistake." " Upon my word ! " he said, and then began to laugh. " You are always delightful, Philippa," he went on, coming a step nearer to her. " I really wish " " I know what you wish," she said as he pulled himself up, " but you have made your choice, Simon ; I hope you are in no danger of forgetting that." " What do you mean ? " speaking with some of his former eagerness. " I should think my meaning is easy enough to see," cooling down ; for up to now, though her manner had been quiet, her feelings had been very hot and hasty. She had guessed when they came out he was going to tell her something of this kind, and had tried to prepare herself for it ; but when it came her whole being rose in revolt ; her sense of bitter disappointment and crushing loss was more than she could bear in silence : but when she had said this she was satisfied, and she took a manner which seemed at once to put an infinite distance between them.

It was such as she had never worn before towards Simon and made him feel that he had possibly wasted opportunities he might not have again. She went on speaking almost at once : " Perhaps it is well it has happened just now ; otherwise I might not have been at hand for the relieving of your mind. I told you I had something to tell you ; don't you want to know what it is ? " " Of course, I beg your pardon. I am afraid I am very self-absorbed. You must forgive me." He turned to her with the attractive smile which so wonderfully lighted up his heavy face, and even in his self-absorption admiring her attitude and the poise of her resolute head. "Tell me what it is," he finished. " Nothing of importance ; only that I am going away." " But that is of the very greatest importance," looking as thoroughly disconcerted as he felt.

" What shall we do without you ? " " I have been visiting your aunts for many years," she answered, with the cheerful dryness which it pleased her at times to assume when she felt hard rather than sympathetic, " and hitherto they have borne up very well under the trial of my leaving them. I daresay they will support it again." " I am thinking of myself. What shall I do without you ? " " Oh, Simon ! " was all she said, but the raillery in her voice was irresistible, and he laughed at himself, even while he felt a little nettled that she should laugh at him. " At any rate you have always stayed a great deal longer than this." " I know, but the Sinclairs want me before they go abroad ; and if I don't go now I shall not get it in at all." " Bother the Sinclairs! they don't want you half as much as I — we do."

" I am not going to inquire into which of you want me most. I can assure you I am very sorry I have to go." " And pray when is it to be ? — which, by the way, is the question you ought to be asking me, if you were a woman of feeling." " But I am not. If you mean when am I going. I have not yet quite decided." " At any rate, you will meet Dorothea before you go-" " Oh, certainly ; I wish very much to meet her." They had turned homewards, and walked slowly along in silence for a little way under the trees, which in a couple of months would be green above their heads. She imagined he would be thinking as much of Dorothea as she was, but when he spoke it was to say : " It seems very sudden. Are you obliged to go ? " " Oh, yes, quite obliged," forcing the cheerfulness into her voice again. "If I were not, I should stay; for I have always been very happy here, and have looked upon Appleford as a kind of home.

This visit, of course, has been different from any other." "How?" " Because you have been different, and you know quite well that you give the tone to the whole house hold. For instance, scarcely a word was spoken at lunch to-day because you were silent. We thought, of course, you were revolving great schemes in your mind ; in reality, I suppose, you were only thinking about Dorothea." " Only ! " he echoed with a half-laugh ; but she said no more, for truly she found herself in a very novel position, — one moreover which was singularly unpleasant and to which she was not at present sufficiently cool to apply any more original epithet than "informing," though she knew the word was ridiculously inadequate. " I am awfully sorry you don't like it," he said at last, as nothing more came from her; "because I can see you don't. I am very unlucky."

" I shan't dislike it until I have seen Miss Fletcher," she answered unreflectingly ; and then they both smiled, and she went on : " You have no business to talk of being unlucky now." " No, I suppose not ; of course not, that is. I am the luckiest man in the world, and just now the happiest." " Only just now ! — if Miss Fletcher could hear you ! You must learn to be careful in what you say." "Don't laugh at me!" he complained; "that habit of laughing at everything may be carried to excess." " So I began to think a little while ago, but I have changed my mind again and have decided to keep it on." " Until you go then, if go you will." " It is a case of must ; there is no will about it." " Except your own in deciding to go." " You would be the first to feel it awkward if I stayed. What would you do with me, when you have just got engaged to Miss Fletcher ?

" " Oh, nonsense, there need be no difficulty." " I think there would be : ask Miss Fletcher how she would like it ? " "Dorothea!" he exclaimed, as if for the mere pleasure of saying her name, — " Dorothea would laugh at the idea." " From all I have heard of her, that is enough to show it would be a remarkable one." " Of course she has not your sense of humour," he protested as he followed her along the lane, which here was only wide enough for one, " but we are not all made alike." " There would scarcely be any marriages if we were," she threw back at him over her shoulder. " I simply don't know what you mean by talking in this way," he said in a tone of vexation. " Well," she answered deliberately and quickening her pace as he came nearer to her, " I don't know that that matters." He did not speak at once ; the distance between them seemed to be growing with every word they spoke, and at the same time his wish to draw nearer to her grew with every step.