Sybil Fairleigh

Chapter I

Two ladies met in a village street. One — the elder — had a small, neat figure, an alert, critical expres sion, and a remarkably active gait for her time of life. The other was somewhat younger, considerably larger in size, with an imposing presence and an impressive manner. There was a reserved look in her observant blue eyes, and the lines about her compressed lips expressed a general distrust. After the usual greetings had passed, Miss Dew berry, the larger lady, who seemed on intimate terms with the other, inquired where she had been. " To see Sybil Fairleigh," was the reply. " A monstrous pity her mother spoils her so ! I wonder the earth is good enough for her to tread upon." " She possesses the perfection of insolence," said Miss Dewberry ; " she has been well-bred." " ' Well-bred ' !

I should think so," said the other, and affecting an air of supercilious indifference, which sat oddly on her brisk little person, continued, " ' With pleasure, Mrs Fosbrook. I only wish the many claims on our attention allowed us to assist you more actively in such a good work.' " A " If you can prove a connection with the nobility,' said Miss Dewberry, " you must expect to be in great demand in such an unfashionable place as Aylesmere." " It does not give you a private right to the universe, if you have been presented at Court, and are eighth cousin to an earl. I should hardly like to mention it in her presence, but I suppose we also are God's creatures." " A most disagreeable girl," said Miss Dewberry. As they passed a pretty little semi-ecclesiastical building, Miss Dewberry remarked that the bazaar might very well be held in the school-room.

They made their way in, and began to peer about, guess ing the width of the room, and making imaginary arrangements. " Too small," said Mrs Fosbrook at length. " No : we shall have to go begging to Mr Josiah Mills for the large room in his empty house, in case his non conformist conscience will allow a Church Schools' bazaar to be held there." " But it's let," said Miss Dewberry. " Fossedean is let. The new tenants are coming in on Monday." " Let ! And with winter coming on ! Who has been cajoled into taking it? Either a millionaire or a man of letters, I suppose. No one else would be so reckless of both economy and comfort." " A rich man named Unwin," said Miss Dewberry. " There are to be extensive alterations made in the house to suit the taste of a lady who lives with him — he is single — but she is, or is said to be, some connection.

He has made his money in mustard. Quite respectable, no doubt." " Unwin," said Mrs Fosbrook, " you don't say so. I met the man in Manchester last year. A positive ruffian ! They say he eats with his knife. He rose from the ranks, and I believe the less said of his antecedents the better. His nails are dirty," with a gesture of disgust ; " I could hardly bring myself to shake hands with him — " " I hope Aylesmere will have sufficient sense of what is fitting, to be careful how it receives such a person into society. But money is sometimes more highly valued than breeding," and Miss Dewberry pinched her thin lips viciously. She had not too much of the former. They were now in the road again, and within sight of Fossedean, which was invested for them with a new interest. They discussed for some time the improvements desirable in the large, old fashioned, inconvenient house.

" It is a good thing," said Mrs Fosbrook as they parted at her garden gate, "that somebody with money has taken the house. His sister-in-law, or whoever she is, looked rather nice, poor thing ! I suppose I had better call." In a small, but prettily-furnished room, com manding a view of the lake and mountains beyond, sat Mrs Fairleigh. She was adorned in the manner of an invalid, with soft shawls and delicate lace head-gear, and had beside her a work-table, full of pretty nicknacks. Her fragile look and tremulous movements betokening feeble health, appealed for pity, and she was considered by the denizens of Aylesmere as a ' poor thing,' on the whole unworthy of special interest. Mrs Fosbrook, however, had been known to observe that she had a dangerous eye. After stirring fretfully for some minutes, and casting impatient glances towards the window, she at length rang a little hand-bell which was on the table beside her.

" Bring the tea, Cloud," she said to the ancient domestic that appeared. " I will not wait longer for Miss Sybil." Just then the front door opened, a light step was heard in the hall, and Sybil entered the room. She moved with a kind of conscious deliberation, and contrived to impart the same air to everything she wore, which seemed as though it was a part of herself and expressed her feelings. She let fall a glance of some anxiety on her mother, who greeted her with querulous questions about her unpunctu ality, as she drew off her long gloves and sank into a low chair facing the invalid's. " The letter to your brother has not been written," continued Mrs Fairleigh, " and now the five o'clock post has gone." " Guy is coming this evening," said Sybil, noise lessly moving about the tea-things with her white, taper fingers.

" I called at the post-office and found a letter." " Coming this evening ! " echoed Mrs Fairleigh, her pale face flushing with excitement. " But, my dear, he was to go to Cambridge to-morrow ! " " He is to be in College on the tenth," said Sybil, " so he has three or four days to spare. For the rest, he has a new violin." She smiled a little, as she said this, gently, like one speaking of the weakness of a friend. " There will be nothing to amuse him," said her mother querulously, " everyone has left." " Guy is not dependent on everyone else for amusement," said Sybil. " Perhaps Mr Johnson may be looking in," con tinued Mrs Fairleigh, after a pause. " He was very kind to Guy, last time he was down here." Sybil slightly raised her pencilled eyebrows. " I trust he will keep his kindness for more deserving objects," she said.

" My dear, you need not be so very unneigh bourly," complained Mrs Fairleigh, her wasted face puckered with vexation, and a suspicion of tears in her eyes and voice. " I'm sure he is a very good young man, and how could I help asking him, when he wished so much to see you about the bazaar, and I had no idea that Guy was coming this very evening, though why he should not like him I can not imagine. Mrs Fosbrook says we never had such a popular curate." " Is Mr Johnson coming this evening, mamma? " enquired Sybil, slowly turning disdainful eyes upon her mother. It was evident that Mrs Fairleigh lived in con siderable fear of her daughter. She attempted no defence, but putting her handkerchief to her eyes, poured forth a stream of lamentation over Sybil's hardness of heart. She had done, she declared, the most ordinary act of neighbourly civility, and Sybil turned on her as though it were a personal injury.

" It does not matter, mamma," said Sybil quietly. " Let me pour you out some fresh tea." Outward peace was soon restored, but as Mrs Fairleigh took the cup of reconciliation, her tremu lous lips and dark glances betokened danger still imminent. " It is settled about the bazaar," Sybil remarked at length. "Mrs Fosbrook knows that you will give your name, but that we can do no more. She was here this afternoon and spoke of it." " Mr Johnson was so anxious you should take a stall," whined Mrs Fairleigh. " I sometimes wish, my dear, that you would show more interest in good works." " There are plenty of stall-holders," said Sybil. " It is uncivil to refuse," continued Mrs Fairleigh. " You might help Mrs Fosbrook at hers." " Quite impossible." Sybil dropped the words out, as if it was hardly worth her while to utter them.

As she lay back in her chair, turning her large grey eyes on the distant mountains, visible through the window, her face wore the look of repellent haughtiness that made Mrs Fosbrook call her a disagreeable girl. At least the picture was a striking one : the shapely head, with its heavy coils of dead gold hair : the pure, pale complexion of the clear cut oval face, every line of which expressed pride and reserve, refined and intensified to a degree that was almost painful. Sybil's bedroom and her mother's were on each side of a small dressing-room, into which they both opened. As Sybil passed through this on her way to dress, she noticed the door of a small corner cupboard standing partly open, with the key in the lock. Here eyes as they rested on it flashed with anger : with a swift movement she locked the door and took possession of the key, then rang the bell imperiously in her own room.

Cloud, Mrs Fair leigh's own trusted maid, who had been with them longer than Sybil could remember, appeared in answer. " I found the corner cupboard open ; you know what my wishes are. Why was the key allowed to remain there ? " Sybil spoke even more haughtily to this trusted servant than she would have done to the others, but her hand was trembling as though the haughty manner served as a cloak for some emotion. It seemed to be no more than Cloud expected, who looked nervous and anxious, and was murmuring some hurried excuse, when Mrs Fairleigh's halting step was heard on the staircase. Cloud disappeared, and Sybil went to meet her mother and supported her into her room. From that apartment was heard for some minutes afterwards the sound of discordant voices : Mrs Fairleigh's high and hysterical, Sybil's sharpened to anger.

When Sybil returned to her own room, her face was colourless and her eyes darkened with an expression to strike a chill to the heart of any that loved her. She stood for a moment motion less, then buried her face in the bed-clothes, while her frame was shaken with tearless sobs.

Chapter II

An hour later, Sybil was standing in the conservatory, waiting for dinner, and fastening a flower in her dress. The conservatory was a good-sized apartment, opening into the drawing-room, and made partly habitable with chairs and rugs. The door into the garden stood open, and looking through it, Sybil saw a figure vault over the railing at the end of the garden and cross the lawn to the house. At a distance, it was like the figure of a full-grown man : as it drew nearer, it seemed to change to that of a boy. He came lightly over the grass towards Sybil, with a motion so effortless, that it suggested something immaterial, whose footsteps would leave no trace. Sybil's face glowed with genuine pleasure, as she greeted the new comer affectionately. He looked at her quaintly, out of a pair of quickly-glancing dark eyes, in which dwelt a mixture of humour and pathos, but whose expression at any given moment it would have been impossible to define.

He had curly hair of a beautiful brown colour, and an infantine serenity of countenance. " Sybil, have you got a penny ? " he murmured in a wheedling tone. " What for, Guy?" said Sybil, smiling indulgently, as at a spoilt child. " To buy a Tumbling Jack. An old lady in the road has got them. They are enchanting. They go head over heels." " Where have your own pennies gone ? " asked Sybil, drawing forth the desired coin, and holding it between her finger and thumb at some little distance from Guy. " Don't know," said Guy, eyeing it wistfully. " They never do leave word." He took the penny gravely, and they set out to gether across the lawn, towards a gate which opened on the high road. The sun had set, and Sybil shivered in the evening air, as she waited at the gate for Guy to return. Just as he came up, a dog cart drove past with two figures in it, one of whom — a large-sized man — was oddly dressed in a huge felt hat and voluminous cape.

" That is the cape I travelled down with ! " ex claimed Guy. " I don't know what was inside it, but I could swear to the cape." " He looks like a Russian Nihilist," said Sybil, still shivering. " Where did you see one last, dear ? " said Guy. Sybil laughed. " At any rate, I should not like to travel with the cape." " It was a delightful travelling companion," returned Guy, " till Farnley Junction. I thought it probably contained a quadruped. The thing inside it spent its time between eating, sleeping, and emitting a sound that was half a snort and half a grunt. Being curled up in a corner, its legs and arms were not distinguishable, and it seemed to have the manners of a well-behaved dog. At Farnley matters took a new turn. Something was wrong with the creature's ticket. He conceived the idea that he had been cheated.

Out of the cape emerged the form of a human being, obviously in possession of all his faculties. Anger glared from under the brigand hat, and a sound like the roar of a bull of Bashan made the platform ring again. Some people thought it thundered. I stood rooted to the spot, awaiting what next might happen. He nearly collared the collector, and I thought what the hug of a bear must be. Sud denly the clear tones of Mrs Carlingford's voice were heard above the storm, ' Not in the carriage with that person,' was all she said. But the words must have contained a potent spell. He fell back, as if thunder-struck ; his jaw dropped, his voice ceased, his hand fell helpless to his side, and he returned to his corner and his cape, like a beaten dog. Poor fellow ! I could have cried to see how ashamed he was of himself.

When we got out at Aylesmere, he spoke in the gentlest whisper, and he stood for five minutes at the gate rather than go out in front of Mrs Carlingford." "Why do you always travel third class?" said Sybil. " You don't know what kind of persons you may find there." " I was thankful to find him," said Guy. " He passed the time." And added as they drew near the house, " Happy thought ! he is the Philistine of Fossedean." " The what, Gypsie ? " " The man of gold, that you told me had bought Fossedean." When the curate entered the drawing-room that evening, with his usual air of mingled complaisance and sacred self-importance, he was inwardly surprised at the sight of Miss Fairleigh, with her brother kneeling beside her, intent upon the antics of a wire tumbler. After the usual greetings, Mr Johnson observed that he had good news to communicate.

The new parishioner, the great millionaire, had arrived ; he himself had already called on him late that very afternoon, and though he was but just come, and was not yet ready for the reception of visitors — having, in fact, only travelled in advance of his household to superintend the alterations — he had yet received the curate most graciously ; and when Mr Johnson had found an opportunity of mentioning the forthcoming bazaar, had not only taken the liveliest interest in all he said, and of his own accord offered the use of the out-building attached to his house (erected by a predecessor, who had tried to start a private school and failed), but on the merest hint of a need of pecuniary help for the School Building Fund, had written on the spot a cheque for Most of these remarks were addressed by Mr Johnson to Sybil, towards whom he had directed his course, establishing himself confidentially in the nearest available seat.

He prided himself on the refined ease of his relations with Miss Fairleigh. She was the most distinguished young lady in their social circle, and it was necessary (in his view) to be counted as one of her immediate associates. It was necessary, in order to graduate in Aylesmere society, to be regarded as among her possible admirers. " Your promptitude was rewarded," said Sybil, when the story was finished. " I believe in promptitude," returned Mr Johnson. " In a case like this, it is, I assure you, of the first importance. People like to be asked; they like to be called upon ; people of his class, you understand." " He must have felt it an attention," said Sybil, " especially with an object like yours ; he must have known the kindness was disinterested." Guy raised one eyebrow and looked at her with an air of quaint observation.

Mr Johnson, how ever, pursued his way undisturbed, and descanted on the extensive alterations that were to be made in Fossedean, and the amount of money that was to be lavished on the place. Mr Unwin, he said, had quite taken him into his confidence. " A proof of friendship to be highly valued." said Sybil. " He will not be ready to treat everyone so." " I was certainly much gratified," said the curate. " No doubt my sacred office commanded his respect, but I do not hesitate to say that there was more in it than this. I felt that I was personally welcome. The powers of conversation which some kind friends say that I possess, are of great assis tance in clerical work. You will forgive my mentioning this. It is an error, I think, to be over modest about the talents heaven has given one." " No one would expect it of you," said Sybil gravely.

Whether Mrs Fairleigh at that moment became aware of something threatening in the air, or whether she intervened accidentally, is not known, but at this point she summoned Sybil to help her in her work, and Mr Johnson turned to Guy and the tumbler, with his air of condescending to play with a little boy, which always amused and de lighted Guy. Sybil presently passed into the conservatory, and the curate, after glancing once or twice dis contentedly in that direction, rose and followed her. She was standing motionless by the outer door of the conservatory, through which the rising moon was now visible. Her air of haughty abstrac tion, the slightly expanded nostril and tense lines of the mouth, might have warned him, but he apparently disregarded these signs of danger. He approached her with complaisant assurance, and remarked on the loveliness of the scene.

Her eyes darkened with a look of anger at the sight of him, and she vouchsafed not a word in reply. Quite unperturbed, Mr Johnson continued, " I hope our new neighbour will soon be permitted to make the acquaintance of Mrs Fairleigh and yourself. A diamond in the rough, as one might describe him, would be much benefited by being drawn within the influence of a house of refinement, such as this. It is the very thing that I should wish for him. If I might be allowed to bring him with me shortly, and introduce him as a personal friend of my own, I should feel that I was not only conferring on him an inestimable advantage, but that I was doing my duty by one of my flock, whose importance, in a worldly point of view, we cannot ignore." Sybil turned fully upon him, swept him with a scathing glance from head to heel— and remarked. ' I prefer the society oi gentlemen!' The emphasis on the last word pierced through even the curate's thick coat of callousness.

He flushed with annoyance, confusedly muttered something inarticulate, and turned away. Sybil waited where she was till he had taken leave of Mrs Fairleigh, and then returned to the drawing-room. Mrs Fairleigh greeted her querulously, " My dear, what have you done to affront Mr Johnson ? I am sure he is a most deserving young man, and he had scarcely been here half an hour when he took leave quite abruptly, just as if you had sent him away. You must cultivate a gentler manner, my dear." " I scarcely know which most to admire," said Sybil, in tones of clear scorn. " The parvenu who flaunts his gold in the eyes of every comer, or the delicacy of mind that lets Mr Johnson make his first visit an opportunity for begging a hundred pounds." " I am sure, Sybil, it is for a very good object, and I have not so many pleasures in my invalid life, that I should be debarred from meeting such friends as are kind enough to come.

And I do think we should make the acquaintance of this Mr Unwin. I am sure Mr Johnson would be pleased that we should ; and if he brings him some day, I do hope you will be civil." Sybil looked observantly at her mother ; it occurred to her sometimes that Mrs Fairleigh's faculties were sharper than might be supposed j but her meditations were interrupted by Guy's saying sweetly : " I am going to see the Philistine to-morrow morning. I think I will bring him home to lunch."

Chapter III

Sybil was not given to long walks ; but when Guy was at home, she would sometimes find that she had unwittingly traversed a longer distance than she had intended, wandering with her brother along the steep winding lanes, between the picturesque stone walls, covered with polypody, fern and ivy, or through the climbing forests of mountain-ash, maple and larch, fronting ever and anon, at some turning-point or sudden clearing, the haunting vision of the ever-changing, ever lasting hills. The day following Guy's arrival they were both returning from a long mountain ramble, their hands full of flowers, and a wreath of the red and yellow leaves of autumn fantastically stuck by Guy in Sybil's hat, when three great thuds were suddenly heard on her sunshade, and looking back they saw that the sky behind them was black with one of the quickly gathering storms to which the lake was liable.

At the same time Guy caught sight of a figure in clerical attire approaching them round the corner which they had just turned, and exclaimed : " Heaven has not forgotten us ! Behold its messenger, bearing an umbrella." But as Mr Johnson came up, and with great empressement offered to hold his over Sybil, the change in her face was hardly less than that in the sky above them. The unfortunate curate, however, with whom tact was not a strong point, continued to press upon her two-thirds of his alpaca umbrella, while Guy erected with joy over his own head Sybil's cream-coloured sunshade. Poor Sybil was helpless : she could not assert that she needed no shelter, for the rain was rapidly increasing to a torrent, and one sleeve of her cotton blouse was soaked through. They were still twenty minutes walk from home, and Mr Johnson, to Sybil's annoyance, was con cerning himself greatly about her wet skirt, and making sentimental allusions to the fate of the flowers she carried, which were dashed by the violence of the rain, when Guy uttered a loud " whew !

" of delight, and pointing to a disused cattle shed in an adjoining field, broke through the hedge and took the shortest cut to its friendly, though unclean, shelter. The others quickly followed him, and Sybil, escaped from the umbrella, stood for awhile in her draggled attire, in com parative content. Not so Mr Johnson. First the floor where Miss Fairleigh was stand ing was too wet and muddy for her thin shoes, and he had discovered a spot that was dryer in a remote corner ; then, when Sybil replied that she had thick boots on, and did not stir an inch, he busied himself among some tools, planks, etc., B behind the door, in improvising a seat. To this, with an unctuous smile, he invited Sybil, at the same time seating himself at one end, to keep the balance, as he said. Sybil dropped a glance on its far from spotless surface, and had just replied frigidly that she preferred standing, when Guy, who was hopping in and out of the door, with his swift, bird-like movements, peering at the rain and the prospect without, uttered an exclamation of surprise, and advancing on tip-toe to his sister, murmured in a stage-whisper, " Ministers of grace, defend us !

We are in the hand of the Philistine ! " Whether Mr Johnson considered this exclamation addressed to himself, as Guy's out-stretched hand seemed to direct, or whether it was only to satisfy the puzzled curiosity that appeared in his face, at any rate he went quickly to the door, and after glancing out a moment, turned round to assure them urbanely that he would not be gone an instant, and dis appeared with joyful alacrity in the direction opposite to the one in which they had come. Then Guy became quite serious, and turning to Sybil, said rapidly, " This is part of the Fossedean property. Mr Unwin is just now crossing the top of the field, and Johnson has gone to meet him. I daresay he will get him to invite us in." For a moment Sybil seemed deprived of speech by astonishment and anger ; then exclaiming, " How dare he put me in such a position !

" gathered up her skirts and prepared without further delay to depart homewards. But circumstances were against her : the rain had increased in violence, and at that moment was coming down in sheets : the only umbrella in the party had just been carried off by its owner ; to attempt to make their way home without protection would have been madness, and, in fact, they had only just had time to realise this, when hurried steps were heard outside, and Mr Johnson, glowing, streaming, and radiant, appeared in the door-way. " Mr Unwin is most kind ! " he declared to Sybil. " I explained how inadvertently we had trespassed on his property, and made the apologies which I was sure you would wish under the circumstances, and he took it in excellent part — was really most generous, and only wished to be of service to you in any possible way, and 1 think when you hear the result of my mission, you will feel as gratified as I do.

Mr Unwin," continued the curate, his voice vibrating with excitement, "has graciously consented to let his carriage come round and fetch us.' " Mr Johnson," said Sybil, in a grave tone of dis pleasure, " surely you did not ask him to do so ? " " Indeed, dear Miss Fairleigh," replied the curate, " to ask was quite unnecessary. I had but to point out to him the unfortunate circumstances in which you were placed, and the impossibility of getting home on foot for some time, and, in fact, I happened at that very moment to catch sight of his carriage waiting for him in the road, and he said he had only just left it to speak a word to the workmen in the next field, and it would take but three minutes longer to drive round here for you, and he would be only too much honoured and delighted to give you hospitality till the rain is over."

Mr Johnson could not judge of the effect of his speech from Sybil's face, as it was turned away from him, towards the door, where she seemed to be looking for such cessation of the rain as might afford her an excuse for escape ; but the heavens were implacable, and Sybil stood motionless with firm-set lips that said as much as any words could do. In relief against the dingy background of the cattle-shed, her well-knit figure, the spirit and dignity of her carriage, her clear-cut oval face, with its alabaster skin, and proud, serious grey eyes, under the wreath of autumn leaves, formed a picture of which the squalid framework enhanced the beauty. The sound of carriage wheels was heard, and Guy murmured to Sybil, " It can't be helped ; he's an old ruffian, but he means well," when the vehicle appeared at the gate of the field hard by.

The gate was opened, the carriage drove across the grass up to the entrance of the cattle-shed, and a figure emerged from it and stood in the doorway. Sybil saw before her a stout, middle-aged man, whose figure looked ungainly in a dripping macintosh, and whose movements had an un certain impulsiveness, as though one part of his mind were continually repressing the misdirected energy of the other. He had a square, strongly marked face, with dark, restless eyes. He took off a dripping hat, and held it in his hand while speaking to Sybil ; he hardly seemed to notice the others. He said he was very sorry he had not known they were there before, and that they had waited so long in the shed ; would she now do him the honour of entering his carriage and taking shelter at Fossedean till the storm was over ?