The Young Husband

Chapter I

I am ons of the race yclept " old maids ;" in other Avords, I have passed the age of forty, and am unmarried. Being possessed of independence, I have settled in a pleasant abode close to this lovely village. The rector and his wife are old and valued friends, which was my inducement, in the first instance, to make Woodleigh (for so I shall call the village) my home. Now the interests I have formed within the place have given me ties to it indevot,. I. B pendent of those which first drew me hither. My whole time is devoted to visiting the poor ; and I feel a proud pleasure in reflecting of what real use I am to my friend the rector. The duties of a Scripture reader I in part fulfil, as Avell as that of visiting sister. I am, in fact, a regular Sœur de la charite — and much I love the occupation.

So wedded in deed am I to these labours of love, that I would not relinquish them for husband, or child, or any other earthly possession. In short, I feel that they are my vocation — my calling, as securely as that of the nun Avho immolates at the shrine of devotion her every hope of worldly happi ness and advancement. There Avas, hoAvever, ever a mingling of romance in my nature. In the marvellous and out of the usual course of dull every-day ex ist .'iic ,T ahvays delighted; and still the feeling clings co me now in later life, although in the monotonous scenes in which I move I had little food to fost.r the predisposition, until a new acquaintance accidentally, formed again renewed my vein of romance. This is a particularly primitive locality, beautifully rural and retired ; possessing an ah of primeval simplicity, not to be found in villages or theh inhabitants situated near railroads.

There is but one large house in the immediate vicinity, and that had been uninhabited ever since the first few weeks after my arrival at Woodleigh, when, from the retired situation of the mansion, and the singularly reclusive habits of its principal inmates, I might have remained still ignorant of any such occupation, but from an adventure I met with during the above mentioned period. I came to Woodleigh in the spring. But partly recovered from an illness, the result greatly of mental distress, I Avas neither in strength of spirits to enter immediately on the career of active duty in which I subsequently engaged, and found so effectual a cordial for the enervated poAvers both of mind and body. I luxuriated in the perfect solitude of my situation — one so congenial to my state of feel ing at the time.

Even my friends at the vicarage were away at this moment. I spent 3 a great part of the day in the open ah, ex ploring the beauties of this unknown country. ' I wandered lonely as the cloud That floats on high o'er hill and dale ;" my mind often filled with melancholy musing on past memories, such as there is nothing like the season of spring to revive ; that, season Avhich to the thousand happy souls which Avalk this earth, may breathe of hope, and joy, and gladness — but must to the still greater portion prove the sad awakener of yearning longings — sorrowful regrets. And when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, And saw around me the wide fields revive With fruits and fertile promise, and the spring Come forth — her work of gladness to contrive. With all her reckless birds upon the wing, I turned from all she brought Tu all she could not bring."

Thus, on the particular occasion which I mention, I had roamed I knew not whither, except that it was over meadows and meads enamelled with flowers and blossoms of every hue ; through woods and copses newly burst ing into verdure, with music above and around ; and an ah breathing on my brow with only too great a weight of mild and luscious fragrance. I had not met a single human being — my solitude was indeed complete — and my enjoyment proportionate. The poet's rhapsody finding its full echo in my breast — " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is society where none intrudes." But suddenly, whilst intent upon making my way through the winding of a wood walk, in which I had become entangled, I heard a rustling in the bushes close to me, and the sharp, shrill barking of a dog broke upon my ear.

Then coming near to the spot from whence the soimd proceeded, I perceived, to my surprise, a diminutive creature of the King Charles's breed, crouching, half concealed by the high grass and fern, vigorously exerting its full powers of vociferation, whilst its large distended eyes — enormous in proportion to the rest of its head and face — were fixed upon some glittering object suspended on the boughs above ; and which, to my astonishment, on a closer scrutiny I discovered to be a small gold chain, of very dehcate and minute workman ship, with what appeared a large locket or miniature watch suspended therefrom. The barking of the httle animal was re newed with fresh fury, when approaching still nearer I proceeded to disengage the trinket from the branch, and examine it more particularly. The slender chain had evidently been broken, the locket was unclasped, and I immediately perceived it to contain the miniature portrait of a young and very handsome man. — Yes, — most supremely handsome were the features of the pictured face wliich my eyes hastily pe rused.

Hoav beautiful the curling hp and open brow — with what life-like spirit looked forth the azure eye ! And yet — I know not how it was — a sentiment of sympathy, almost com passion, was soon mingling in my breast with the intense admiration which the first survey had excited. Yes, sympathy — pity for the trembhng happiness — the pain woven with the pleasure ne cessarily the portion of those whose interests, or whose affection were intimately linked with that bright being's fate. " A mournful thing is love which grows, To one so wild as thou ; With that bright restlessness of eye — that tameless fire of brow." And the mother — the wife — the wife that was, or is to be. Alas ! I thought for the trouble of theh happiness — the trembhng mixture of theh fear and pride. For conspicuous above all of noble and of good that countenance seemed originally in tended to pourtray, breathed forth the attri butes of an impetuous and impatient spirit — a passionate, uncontrollable, and unchecked will — impatient scorn of all that might impede or cross the inclinations and purposes of his heart, or hfe.

Nay, one might almost have fancied to discover the paramount existence of some such feehngs working strongly in his breast at the very time the painter's skill had been employed upon the work before me — > that the proud spirit was chafing inwardly against the hated thraldom of some chain of circumstances, to which fate was obliging him to yield. I have always been a great physiognomist ; and how correct and well-founded were my suppositions in this respect, the sequel will too clearly prove. HoAvever, the examination lasted but a short space of time. The little spaniel having ex hausted its ineffectual fire upon me, darted suddenly for Avar d doAAii the path I had been pursuing ; and clasping the interesting object of my admiration, I folloAved in its track, anxious to be able to restore the lost treasure to its OAvner, of Avhose vicinity I could not but feel secure.

And thus walking not many yards onwards, I came, indeed, almost imme diately in sight of the supposed object of my search. I found that I had penetrated to the out skirts of the wood, and stood close before some open palings, evidently forming a boundary to the private domain of some gentle man's seat ; for beyond there lay what might appear a distant and neglected extremity of the park. The trees grew stunted, irregular, and interlaced. The wild flowers and weeds flourished in unrestrained and rank luxuriance around a small lake, or extensive pool, which stood in the midst, dark, still, and deep, — Avith a few aatIIows bending their hoar branches over its brink ; yellow flowers floating here and there on its else so dull and stagnant surface. And in this lone and silent spot — silent, comparatively, for here the birds did not seem merrily " to sing in the trees," as they had done before in the wood, and the little dog, whilst making its difficult way towards the object of its course, through the long twisted grass, had ceased its barking — I beheld, to my no small rehef, the figure of a lady.

Her back was turned towards me, so that I could only discern from her appearance, as seen in that position, that she was tah and youthful. Little, however, of the careless grace and elasticity of youth were visible in her attitude, as she stood leaning heavily against one of the willow trees I mentioned — her head bending down, as if in weariness — her eyes apparently fixed in dull absorption on the silent waters beneath her feet, whose dark and stagnant depths seemed more in unison with the gloomy tenor of some world-tried, grief-worn spirit, than with the mind of one but lately launched on the gushing, sparkling streams of hfe. The little dog now raised once more a complaining and a warning voice, as it sprang eagerly to the lady's side, looking back with angry defiance upon my offending person.

Its mistress noticed not at first this excitement on her little guardian's part, but by a fretful, impatient movement of her hand ; and it was not till its disturbance became too im portunate to be left quite unregarded, that she slowly turned her head, and beheld the cause of such threatening demonstrations. For a moment she merely stared at me, ivithout offering to advance ; but noticing at length the gesture Avhich I made in sign that I wished to address her, she began AA-itli reluc tant and uncertain steps to move slowly to wards me. I thus had full opportunity of ob serving her countenance, a scrutiny which did not prove devoid of interest, though interest it might be of a melancholy nature. The face was young, indeed, or shoidd have been so, but it was not beautiful, if bloom and smiles constitute beauty.

How different from the pictured countenance I had so lately sur veyed ! The sallow, roseless cheek — the strong lines of anguished feeling, drawn tightly round a mouth whose natural form seemed originally devoid of any pretension to regular loveliness — the hps compressed and parched " As fever were the breath" which went forth to mingle Avith the sweet spring ah, breathing in vain upon the weary brow. " There was a shade upon her large dark floating eyes, As if each spark of youthful ecstacy had fled." Eyes which of themselves might have re deemed that face from want of beauty, had a more natural and happy expression been the character they bore. Neither did they seem to possess any of the quick-sighted animation of youth and joyous ness ; for still she came languidly and heavily towards me, with that fixed and dreary gaze — nor perceived the glittering treasure I held conspicuously to view, till but a very few paces from the spot, when her countenance, indeed, underwent a sudden and immediate change.

A gloAv, unlike the rosy blush of youthful de light, suffused her brow ; a hght, different from the sunshine of pleasure, illuminated her eyes, as Avith something almost approaching to a cry of affrighted eagerness, she darted for ward with extended hands, and grasped her recovered trinket. I then proceeded to explain how I had found it entangled in the branches. But she seemed little to heed my explanation, with such eager absorption she was bent upon the ex amination of the ornament, and the fracture which had proved the cause of the disaster. " Yes," at length she murmured, in a hoarse and hollow voice, more to herself than in an swer to my communication, whilst something of a smile, if such the dreary and unnatural expression contracting her hps could so be called, played upon her countenance as she held in either hand the extremities of the severed chain — " broken ! quite broken ! — the last hnk quite broken — and for ever \" Then, suddenly recollecting herself, and looking up with a scared and startled look towards me, she hurriedly, and with a painful effort to assume a tone of ordinary civility, thanked me for what I had done, saying, that the chain was of some value, and that she shoidd have been sorry to have lost it.

Then, as if anxious only to rid herself of the re straint of my presence, she hastily pointed to an open part of the palings, and laconicaUy invited me to pass through. I expressed my unwillingness to trespass on what I supposed to be private domains. Whereupon, still in the same tone of dreary indifference, she said that I was welcome to do so ; the path along the trees would lead me to the road across the park ; it was ihe shortest Avay to the village if I AA'ished to go there. Then she turned abruptly, and walked aAvay, leaving me to my choice. I did not hesitate ; having wandered far enough that day, I felt every inclination to avail myself of the shortest route homeAvards, to say nothing of the privilege thus afforded me, of traversing the domains of the "Willows, that one large house in the neighbourhood I before mentioned, a privilege I felt particularly tempted to embrace, as the something of silence and mystery, I had ahvays fancied preserved by the feAv with whom I had held converse concerning it — a silence so different from the usual notoriety generally attached to any habitations of the kind, in a remote country neighbourhood — had considerably enhanced the interest Aviih which I often paused before the entrance gate, situated in the outskirts of the village, and looked doAATi the narrow avenue of old trees, not straight and stately, but with theh tangled branches and green stems, fallen across each other, with deep rugged under- Avood of shrubs, and gay wild floAvers around theh feet, which led, I concluded, to the great house, though that house itself, deep and Ioav amongst the surrounding woods, was as com pletely hidden from the curious view, as the palace of the sleeping beauty, by its circling hedo;eroAV.

Through the aperture accordingly pointed out to me, one which might have been, pro bably, made for the private convenience of the family, I hastily passed, making my way direct towards the narrow path, I discerned winding among the trees. But arrived so far, I could not restrain the inclination I felt to turn my head once more, before leaving the scene of my adventure, and look upon the " dark, mysterious ladye." The residt of this observation arrested my footsteps with a vague feeling of fear and wonderment. The lady was once more crossing towards the spot where I had first beheld her. But she walked no longer with the slow and heavy footsteps I before described, but in a strangely hurried and excited manner. Having quickly reached the waters, she paused, strained to her hps and bosom with a convulsive gesture, something in her hand.

It was — I saw them flashing in the sunshine, as with averted head she held the object tremblinp-ly, desperately aloft — the chain and picture. And was it possible ? Did my eyes deceive me 9. The golden treasure swayed backwards and forwards for a second, then shot like a glittering serpent through the ah. The aim was well directed though by that quivering arm — neither floating weeds nor overhanging shrubs impeded the downward course. And splash — splash ! I heard the sound distinctly through the clear ah, even at the distance where I stood — into its shmy depths — the dull, dark water opened to receive its golden prize. A still silence seemed to succeed the startling deed. The lady again stood motionless, as if till the last ripple had subsided, her Avork of destruction was incomplete. riven the little spaniel seemed awestruck with amaze, and gazed upon the deed in si lence.

I left them thus, unwilling that my espionage shoidd be discovered ; yet, when the barking of the dog again foUowed on my ear, shrill, sharp, and piercingly, I was almost tempted to attach to the sound some ominous meaning, and nearly paused questioning mv right, after what I had been the witness, to leave the lady in this lonely spot, but smiled again at the exaggerated idea, that the pas sionate impulse of misery must need be foUowed by one of madness and crime. " Misery !" — yes ! and was it not easy for me, who had looked upon the pictured face of beauty, over which the stiU, dull water now was sleeping, with feelings and impressions such as I have described — was it difficult for me to image to myself the meaning of the scene I had witnessed ? affections trampled on, and hopes betrayed, love turned to very bitterness.

Ah ! was there not something of aU this involved in the sad heart - history of that young and wretched lady ? I went on through the park or wooded glebe, more properly speaking, composing the domain, — as solitary, if not as AvUd and un cultivated, as the spot I had just quitted ; and soon, reposing in the calm glow of early evening's sunshine, appeared the mansion, a vol.. i. c grave but pleasant-looking budding, in the old manor-house style. Other feelings, I trust, than those of mere idle curiosity, induced the strong interest Avith which I turned my eyes upon the mansion, anxiously wondering to myself the circum stances of abode, the place which she filled, whether as mistress, guest, or daughter, within its waUs, what friends or comforters there possessed, by that poor, wretched young being !

The house itself displayed httle sign of life-like occupation. More than one half seemed shut up ; the smoke curled but faintly from the chimney. No face of child or servant was visible at the trellised casement. Some sheep grazing close to the windows, on the bright greensward, showing in such vivid relief against the grey stone waUs, were, at first, the only living creatures visible. But, suddenly, the figure of a Avoman bearing the appearance of a respectable upper servant, issued from the door, standing in the shadow of the building, shading her eyes with her hand, as she gazed anxiously in the direction I had taken. And there I saw she stUl remained, when I turned my head once more before losing sight of her, so that it was with a feehng of relief that I proceeded on my way. The lady was not, at least, quite so desolate, but that she possessed one kind and anxious friend, to watch for and meet her on her return.

It may appear strange to my readers that I did not take immediate measures to discover a fuU, true, and particular history of the lady of the manor. But, first of aU, I can truly say, I am no lover of gossip. I knew no one at Wood leigh — amongst the poor even, as yet, I had made but httle acquaintance. My own two servants were, like myseh, strangers in the place, and as quiet and reserved in theh habits and dispositions. Then by the time my friends at the Vicarage returned, the WUlows was reaUy deserted, for a carriage, a few days after the adventure recorded, passed my windoAV, packed for travelling. The old man weeding in my garden, in answer to my inquiry, told me, in o his broad Somersetshire dialect, that it was the young lady from the great house, going to foreign parts. Beyond that, he seemed to knoAv or care but little.

Mr. and Mrs. Young's arrival, and the course of active duty in which I immediately became engaged, so completely absorbed my time and thoughts, and obhterated the strong impression my adventure had at first made upon my interest and curiosity, that I might, perhaps, have rested contentedly in my igno rance for ever and a day, but for the circum stances which very soon, without any effort on my own part, led to my fuU and perfect enlightenment on the subject ; circumstances, the detaU of which must now lead me back to the point from which I have so far digressed, namely, the interesting acquaintance I men tioned to have made amongst the inhabitants of Woodleigh.

Chapter II

I had been, from my first arrival at Wood leigh, greatly struck by the picturesque ap pearance of a superior cottage which stood apart from the rest of the habitations — the principal ornament of the vdlage. The pretty garden not only boasted of the common cottage flowers, but rarer and more expensive plants and seedlings graced this little parterre ; indeed, constantly did I see a gardener issuing from the Willows gates, with a basket full of garden treasures, arrive at the cottage gate, and there would he pass the remainder of the afternoon beautifying the little spot, which was kept in the neatest trim by him and his assistants. It Avas quite a lovely sight in Spring to Avatch the beautiful contrast of the various colours of the floAvers belonging to that season, gladdening the sight after the bareness of a long AA'inter.

And then in summer, the roses of every hue and kind, the clusters of luxuriant white moss-roses, such as might AveU have vied with those so tempting to the view, and immortalized in the delicious fairy story of " Beauty and the Beast," that tale which, to this day, I can read over and over again with pleasure. I often paused as I passed to feast my eyes on this httle paradise, and to specidate on the whys and wherefores of this httle menage, — for a certain air of mystery certainly seemed to surround it. The tenant of tins pretty cottage I discovered to be a delicate-looking AA'oman of forty (I afterwards ascertained her to be about this age, though she appeared much older), and she, with a respectable elderly person, were its sole occupants. Her name I heard was Lea, and that she had been a confidential servant in the famdy, untU Ul health obliged her to relinquish her post.

It was easy to see that she had been most thoroughly esteemed, for every comfort, nay, every luxury, seemed poured upon her. The interior of the cottage was perfect in its accommodation, although it appeared that Mrs. Lea was simple and unostentatious in her tastes, and, as an old inhabitant informed me, would not aUow the place to be enlarged, sending away aU the fine furniture which arrived for its decoration. " Jane Somers, who goes every week to the cottage in the capacity of char-woman," con tinued my informer, " says that Mrs. Lea always sits in what is caUed the front kitchen, wliich, however, I hear, is as good as any parlour ; but there is a room on one side which looks very grand, hung round with pictures of beau tiful ladies and gentlemen, mostly young. In that, however, she seldom goes, excepting at times, and then she shuts the door, and no one ever thinks of disturbing her.

Jane says, she goes to look at the pictures of her young masters and mistresses, some of whom she believes must be dead, for Mrs. Lea looks sad and tearful after she has left the room, — indeed, the ghl teUs me, she is often very mournful, poor body ! particularly after she has received a letter from foreign parts." This account of Mrs. Lea raised my interest and curiosity. Her appearance always excited my admiration. She must have been very comely in her better days of health and happiness, for her features were small and regular, her dress scrupulously neat. She was the very picture of an interesting invalid ; and her attire, though plain and unpretending, demonstrated that she was very weU to do in her circunistances. In summer the dress in which she appeared at church was grey sUk of no mean texture ; in winter it was black.

She attended church constantly, Avhich Avas close to her dAvelling ; and it was a sight I always loved to contemplate, to see her issuing from the garden-gate, leaning on the arm of her respectable-looking attendant, and, with feeble steps, reaching that blessed sanctuary of the afflicted — the house of prayer. And afflicted surely she must have been, for there was something in the expression of her countenance, as I watched it Avhdst she sat in her little pew, — that pew, by-the-bye, which was strangely decorated, considering the com parative hunible condition of its owner. In it might be observed a handsomely-worked otto man to kneel upon, the seat was cushioned most luxuriously, a handsome Prayer Book and Bible rested upon the reading-desk, — aU bespeaking some opiUent hand of tenderness and affection ever held out to promote the comfort of one most fondly cherished.

And in this pew I have always watched, un seen by her, the countenance of Mrs. Lea, and how often has its expression almost drawn tears from my eyes ! Its deep sadness, its imploring, almost de spairing signification, as, with clasped hands and uplifted glance, she seemed beseeching, entreating of Heaven some boon — some bless ing — not for herself — no, it could not be — but for some loved being requiring aid from on high ! There was a careworn expression in the face of Airs. Lea, which made her look, as I have before remarked, quite an old woman, for — THE T0UNG HUSBAND. " The faded form may speak of sorrow more than years, The furrows on the cheek be the course of secret tears, The trembling lip may murmur of a grief it ne'er confess' d, And the dimness of the eye bespeak the soul's unrest !"

Care and woe, those two sure hasteners of old age, those worms which gnaw without destroying, — yes, it is, indeed, wonderful how long human beings can continue on, with that barbed arrow pierced through the heart. — Yes, they live on, but what a life it is ! ♦ Many months elapsed before I found means to make the acquaintance of this, to me, most remarkable and interesting woman. She held no communion with any of the inhabitants of the vdlage, unless a tale of distress met her ear, and then relief was immediately afforded by the person who hved with her at the cot tage. I cannot describe the intense desire I felt to gain access to tins httle enchanted spot. I cast many a wistful glance over the httle gate always so carefully shut, longing to open it, and introduce myself to its interesting OAvner.

But chance, at length, befriended me. I was one afternoon in the early autumn pass ing by the cottage, on the way to some of my usual haunts, when I heard the gate abruptly opened, and Mrs. Jones rushed forth, looking very pale and agitated. She gazed around her, evidently in search of some one with whom she might confer ; and, on seeing me (I had stopped abruptly, startled by her appearance of discomfiture and affright), exclaimed : " Madam, I am in great distress. Mrs. Lea has fallen down, and, I fear, has broken her leg. Where can I find the doctor?" I told her I had seen him but a few mo ments before, just entering a house in the vUlage, and offered to go for him ; which offer was gratefully received. I soon returned with Mr. Thompson, and, armed with his introduction, I ventured to enter with him the cottage.

And there, indeed, my services were most welcome. We found the poor woman stUl prostrate on the spot where she had so un fortunately faUen. Mrs. Jones had not dared to move her, and most thankfully were my offers of help accepted. I am an exceUent nurse, and my nerves are strong. I helped to raise the sufferer, and to carry her to her bed. I was an able assistant to the doctor when the injured leg was set, and had the gratification of finding that Mrs. Lea, even in this short period of acquaintanceship, looked favourably and kindly upon me. I determined to remain at the cottage all night, and too gladly did Mrs. Jones embrace my proposal. So in the cottage I Avas instaUed for many weeks ; at least, many hours of the night and day I spent by the bedside of the patient ; and during that period I became not only acquainted Avith its inhabitants, but more and more interested in them.

Mrs. Jones, though evidently not on an equality with Mrs. Lea, was an excellent person ; the devotion she evinced towards her Avas unbounded, quite ex traordinary to witness. She had no thought for else, but serving, tending, and comforting her. And in Mrs. Lea I found a truly Chris tian woman, — one schooled in the trials of adversity most certainly. But her adversity was not poverty or personal deprivation. No, far from it, to judge by external appearances. Her bedroom was comfort itself, I may say luxury. On remarking upon the pecidiar construction and comfort of her bed, Mrs. Lea said : " Yes, it ought to be so ; this bed was sent from GUlow's, the famous London upholsterer." And then she sighed deeply, murmuring in a low voice, " Yes, if doAvn piUoAvs could give rest and peace, I might indeed command both, but " and then she stopped, covering her eyes with her hand.