A Flame of Fire: a novel

Front matter

A NOVEL BY MRS. HAWEIS^.-f. AUTHOR OF " THE ART OF BEAUTY," " CHAUCER FOR CHILDREN," " THE BRIDE'S GARLAND," ETC. IN ONE VOLUME LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1897. All rights reserved. FOREWORDS I wrote this story to vindicate the helplessness of womankind ; and to show how completely women, like slaves, with their vagaries and irresponsibility, are often but the natural product of their artificial surroundings : how their beautiful possibilities are confined to base or noble uses, as a flame is, through the strength of the privileged partner: how in fact (to reverse the old proverb) a wife is what her husband makes her. The laws are becoming more equal between the sexes in view of greater peace and union, and responsibility increases strength. But women are still going to the stake all the time.

The furnace may have had its uses, but that purer fire which is the human soul is set to best profit where its white flame can give light to them that sit in darkness, not where it only besmirches itself : and all the best progress and highest aspiration belong to times of peace and freedom, as the brightest characters spring out of happy service and love of •others. CONTENTS CHAP. PACE. 1 I. THE WEDDING-DAY PSYCHE 10 II. 28 III. A SUNBEAM 37 IY. A PRESAGE IN A STBANGE TONGUE "A LITTLE CLOUD LIKE A MAN'S HAND " A DART OF FIRE 44 V. 55 VI. 63 VII. FANNED TO A BLAZE .. 82 VIII. THE TORCH OF EROS ... MEADOWS OF ASPHODEL TONGUES OF FIRE 92 IX. 104 x. 113 XI. A STORM BREWING THE THUNDERBOLT 127 XII. XIII. XIV. " AND THE FIRE RAN ALONG THE GROUND " DRIVEN BEFORE THE WIND 134 145 AT THE WIND'S WILL . . .

BROKEN BY THE WIND WHEN THE WIND DROPPED SHELTER 158 XV. 169 XVI. 182 XVII. XVIII. CONTENTS VI CHAP. PAGE 197 XIX. NO HELP 213 XX. FAIR-WEATHER FRIENDS 224 XXI. MISCHIEF AHEAD XXII. ESCAPE 237 243 XXIII. CLOUDS AND THICK DARKNESS .. XXIV. TRIED IN THE FURNACE 250 261 XXV. FUEL TO FIRE 269 XXVI. A DREAD REVENGE XXVII. THE AFTERGLOW

Chapter I The Wedding-day

" Yet for this hour I still may here be stay'd, And see the gold air and the silver fade, And the last bird fly into the last light." Rossetti. What _3 sweeter than the still, red hour of sunset od some warm August day that has slipt over the brown ridges of an English cornfield into the pale sea, with the sudden flush and silence of a girl surprised . All the movement and the sounds of day have dropt into calm — no, not calm, for the heart palpitates and thrills a little more. The friction of the wave upon the beach as it creeps up in long wrinkles aslant from left to right, sounds up here like a distant reiterated " hist ! " The L last breath of wind bowed the ears of wheat, how many minutes ago ? The cows have ceased to low, the tinkle of some bell that sounded has died away, and the utter peace is almost terrible. . . .

Ah, no ! there is no absolute silence : hear that lark throbbing up to the sky to say good-night ! The faint clear song seems to echo the cry of a new joy, too strange to utter itself in song or in speech, within a girl's breast. For there is the girl. She sat on the edge of the precipitous cliff, listening now for a wished-for step, now opening her heart to the influences of such a nightfall ; her whole being alive with expectation and content, she sat for a measureless space of time, looking over the long horizon where the pink sky touched the sea. To-day, her wedding-day, is closing in. Before her mind, not realized but dimly felt, a long reach of happy years stretch into the future, a new era, full of fresh duties and untasted sweetness. Jf the magic chain and rod of sovereignty must needs be purchased at the cost of the freedom of girlhood, verily the sacrifice is repaid, the bargain is easy ; woman married is a crowned queen, and at her touch the beast of prey kneels down.

And ah ! her kingdom ! Such a man ! the pleasure to be nigh him is so great : the honour to obey him makes her young heart beat. She it is whom he has chosen, from all the world of women, to "rule him by submission." That frame of iron, that eagle eye, those lips that can tighten like steel, but are so soft when they kiss, are hers, only hers. The lordliest of men, with thews of a giant, and the will of a king, has drawn her into his great life and heart, has shackled her to all happiness with a golden collar — has crowned her Wife ! Suddenly, the flush and silence are full of a long, light step, a tall slender form clad in loose light coloured garb, a refined face with thoughtful eyes not untouched by sadness, and a beard too thin to hide the delicately cut chin and lips, which paled visibly as the girl arose in her joy and faced him.

For a moment she stood against the sky and sea, startled, her svelte outline sharp against the red, her bronze hair glowing like an accentuation of the cornfield's hues, her lips quivering with the unspoken word, and the sweetest eyes that ever sought a lover's ; and then he spoke vehemently — " I take God to witness that I never came here thinking to meet you." "Sylvain!" " Aglae ! for heaven's sake, how come you here — and alone 1 " " Only for a minute. He has gone back to the farm-house." An uncomfortable pause. " Sylvain, I saw you at the church door. You would not look at me. It was not very kind." " Kind ! Were you thinking of kindness just then ? — a little late." " What do you mean ? " " I mean, that it is unfortunate we have met now. Not for my sake. But I swear, I had no notion " " Sylvain, you are not kind now.

I thought we parted friends. I always wished and meant it. You said you were not angry, and we would be always good friends, in spite of — of what had passed. And now you speak to me like an enemy. You do not even shake hands — now, when I am so happy, on my wedding day." " Yes, you are a wife now. You are no longer the Aglae I — knew. I wanted to see the last of her," he went on, with a certain vibration in his voice to which her ear, attuned to a new scale, was no longer sensitive ; " that is why I went to the church — and I saw it. Aglae Quekett is a new creation, whom I know nothing of." " And whom you will not shake hands with, Sylvain . How can I believe that you care for my happiness ? — you will not wish me joy . " " I do," he answered ; " you know whether I do ; I wish you joy — I wish you peace — I wish you love : all that Aglae Dorriforth ought to have.

I take your hand " (for she was holding it out), " I take your two hands, in token that I always did, and do, Aglae." Aglae's lips moved with some sweet word of tender gladness which died at birth, for her husband's shadow fell over her face. A man less lofty in stature than Sylvain, but built like a rock, impassible in feature, marked by a set small mouth, and eyes of steel, whicii shone on his wife's companion with a glitter that brought the haughty blood to Sylvain's cheek and made his teeth clench. The whole form expressed strength ; the whole face inflexible will — the charm of power that attracted magnetically. Aglae snatched her hands from Sylvain's with an unreasoning impulse ; both men raised their hats with a certain hostile civility. Henry Quekett broke silence — " It is a singular coincidence that you should be here, Major Mildmay."

" Less so than that you should be, Mr. Quekett." " I have come to Oatsdale on my marriage tour." " I have been here for a week." A moment's pause, instantly closed by Quekett — "The place was selected by me for its solitude." " And by myself also," answered Mildmay. Another pause : Mildmay closed it. " I understood that you and Mrs. Quekett were going abroad." " I altered my mind, as you see. The sugar of a ' honeymoon ' might lose flavour in Continental crowds ; even, you will under stand, if the crowds were wholly composed of old — friends," Quekett pointedly added, in his incisive manner. Major Mildmay's fine ear caught the whole meaning of the last parenthesis. His old relations with Aglae Dorriforth were known to Quekett ; not only known but sentenced. They were likely not only to supply, as was fit and proper, a motive for complete severance of even friendly ties, but to be used as a rod in pickle for Aglae.

The " sugar " was not to be too succulent for the butterfly. The very "I," regardless of her presence on this first initiatory day, spoke volumes to Mild may's sensitive doubts. He caught up the gauntlet with a readiness and dignity which were not lost upon Quekett's brusque acumen. " There is a time, probably, in every life when a friend may be of service. I shall take this accidental opportunity to assure Mrs. Quekett, that should the day ever come when she should need a friend — which heaven forbid ! — however great or small the service," and he looked gravely into Aglae's eyes, " she can count upon me." " My wife renders you her acknowledg ments," returned Quekett, regardless that Aglae's eyes were gaining a frightened, questioning look, and accompanying the words with a contemptuous bow.

" Since my solitude has been invaded," continued Major Mildmay, still bending his gaze on Aglae, " and yours should be respected, I shall return at once whence I arrived a week since, to Calcutta. The prospect of an English cold-weather is not attractive, and I am eager to start. I shall take my final leave of you now." " Good-bye," said Aglae, venturing to grasp his outstretched hand affectionately, and meeting his clear blue eyes with hers which his going could not cloud. Then with a curt salute to Quekett, the tall, light figure turned along the cliff and was out of sight. But the ears of love, sharpened by fasting, are quick as a bird's, and Mildmay felt upon the air the bride's soft, caressing whisper to her chosen — "My lord!" " And master," was the set mouth's colophon. A strange wedding-day this.

All the proprieties outraged ; is it not almost an outrage to come across a three hours' bride at all, a transition creature that few would venture to intrude on — most (who agree, as do not we all ? in Charles Lamb's hatred of the genus Bride) would flee ! And what a strange, uncomfortable, prophetic interview ! Some explanation is due to the reader. After all, Mildmay declared that he did not seek the bride, and implied that he would gladly have avoided her. Yet why avoid so sweet a thing, pleased as she clearly was to meet him, and receive from him that kindly bridal greeting that ofttimes may be uttered with a doubtful heart, " I wish you joy, I congratulate you, may your days be long ! "

Chapter II Psyche

" What name I was it love or praise . Speech half asleep, or song half awake 1 " Browning. Aglae had been named by the fair young mother who bore her on her deathbed. She had been married for several years, and had followed her husband, Major Dorriforth, to India ; and when the first child, long wished for, came, she scarcely lived long enough to love it. " Aglae ! " she said to it, between waking and sleeping : and after her death the child bore the pretty, fantastic name. When she was a year old her father died too, and the child was sent home to the care of his brother in England. Our girls are too much watched and tended. The animal nature is too wholly crushed. jo PSYCHE 11 Many a character might blossom out into rarer beauty were it not too much shielded from outward influences, good and bad.

They are like flowers brought up in a dark room. No doubt maternal guidance and discipline are good things, but all good has a point where it touches harm. Whatever Aglae's faults or mistakes might be, she was at least their author, and had the privilege of blaming no one but herself. Aglae lived at home, untempted to re linquish it, till she was twenty-one. Many a swain had " sighed beneath her window," many a man had turned to her sweet face and vainly hoped to find encouragement there. Aglae cared nothing for admirers until she met Sylvain Mildmay. This gentleman, a captain in her Majesty's Bengal Army, came to England in 1880 on two years' leave. Of course he loved Aglae, every one did who crossed her orbit. On the other hand, it was impossible for a woman like our Aglae to come in contact with so much that was good in a man without returning his regard.

Mildmay was a distant connection of the Dorriforths, and on his arrival stayed for some weeks in their house at Bangor. Thus acquaintance between the young people ripened sooner into warm attachment than it might otherwise have done between a man whose sensitive delicacy of feeling won him the credit of shyness, and a maiden who had already passed the ordeal of several offers, and there fore, we may suppose, did not love easily. Aglae was of rare beauty — beauty with " character " in it. She had smooth clear-cut features, but her complexion almost obscured them — that is, her colouring was so vivid that you forgot to give her credit for form. Neither her skin nor her hair was quite fair — the latter streaky in colour, like that of many girls who have been fair-haired in childhood and who have changed gold for chestnuts.

This streakiness was very pretty, the orient colour of the ends crowning her in little twists and braids after the fashion of certain Old Masters' Madonnas. The greatest peculiarity, perhaps the greatest charm, of Aglae's appearance was her grace of bearing, derived from proportions so PSYCHE 13 subtly perfect, that one was hardly ever sure whether she was tall or short, plump or thin. There occur in every country rare instances of this complete perfection of human proportion : like the proportions of St. Peter's at Rome, they deceive the eye and confuse judgment. Sometimes, as she moved about the house, her breadth of shoulders and length of arm seemed great — goddess-like ; at others she gave the impression of almost fairy lightness of build. Her features, too, seemed — contrasted with other people's — small, her whole head and face small too ; then, as you examined her face, the sweep of the line of eyebrow and eyelid, the arch of brow where her bronze hair began in gold, and the curves of the lips, seemed almost colossal.

If one attempted to draw her por trait, the portrait always got much larger than life ; hers was a face that would have borne colossal proportions had Pheidias, or even Michael Angelo, been at hand to put it in bronze or marble. Aglae's was a happy life, she took so genuine an interest in everything. She knew all about the farm mysteries : the remedies for a sick cow, the exact moment to despatch the fat sucking pig, the ailments of the children, the troubles of family life— just so far as everything was healthy, happy, and natural. She did not know how careful Mrs. Dorriforth was whom she visited and where she went; her hours and habits being regulated by unsus picious devotion to Aunt Dorry's wishes. She knew nothing about sin and its consequences — had never so much as seen a drunken man close — had never heard of revolting daughters, depravity and infidelity, and all the morbid sores which sow life under the surface.

That was how she retained her singular purity of view ; that was what her uncle criticized in her upbringing. Mrs. Dorriforth had shielded her so effectually from every evil influence, from every wind too hot or too cold, while giving her, within limits prescribed by her confidence in Aglae and Aglae's unquestioning obedience, a liberty of speech and action un usual at her age. As a child, she was allowed to climb up any tree, as long as the tree was within a certain pale ; to wander out alone unwatched, between PSYCHE 15 certain safe times and seasons ; to associate with whom she pleased, high or low, as long as Mrs. Dorriforth was sure of the principles of her companions ; to read any book, provided Mrs. Dorriforth was convinced of the way it would impress her. Her opinion was en couraged, her tastes cultivated with an art which concealed art, wonderful in a woman without much experience, but having a rare faculty of tact and observation.

The espionage was so delicate and sympa thetic that it was invisible ; and the results were so happy that, although the system was too exotic to coincide with Mr. Dorriforth's philosophy of woman's education, he could not persuade himself to interfere. Then when she was grown up to be a woman, the innocence that had been culti vated in her enwrapped her like a garment, defended her like armour. The men who adored her awoke no self-consciousness in her when they told her how delicious she was ; roused no coquetry of feeling when they asked her to marry them, and got refused for no better reason than that she did not want to be troubled. The girls who were nowhere when she was present, had small excuse for calling her a flirt, seeing how indifferent she was to retaining admirers. The worst that any one said of her was she was " an odd girl," and I am not sure that this did not involve the highest praise.

But bright and striking as she was, her pro tectors were clearly-defined personalities too. Figure to yourself an old-fashioned Welsh house, built largely of slate, and hence some what dark and cold in colour. The doorsteps were of slate, and so were the gate-posts that protected the garden walk up to the door. The window-sills and the door-lintel were of slate, streaky, with green veins. Over its barrenness hung a warm moving cloak of ivy, and the large walled-in grounds were prettily cultivated, for Bangor is fertile ; and across and between green leaves and healthy tree-stems gbmmered the pale blue waters of the Menai Straits, and the beautiful broken outlines of the opposite shore, and beyond, Beaumaris and Puffin Island. It was pretty to see the little sailing boats seemingly caught like white PSYCHE 17 butterflies among the boughs as one looked through.

On the other side the house were spreading meadows full of sheep and hedged with slate. Figure to yourself Mrs. Dorriforth, a lady of some fifty summers, old-fashioned, dapper, tender-hearted, beaming, like a Dresden-china shepherdess in all but the ridiculous attitudes and the disagreeable gloss ; always in good spirits, always sympathetic, if occasionally incoherent in method of reasoning, and with her own strange sidelights of wisdom, and faith in her own little systems, which made her a happy woman and a very amusing com panion. Mr. Dorriforth was a naturalist. Insects were his work, flowers his recreation ; he had a choice greenhouse, and a laboratory which nobody with a nose ventured to storm. A fine face, not without humour crinkling the corners of his mouth and eyes, was his ; but pursuit of knowledge had transformed him from the spruce young gallant that Mrs. Dorri forth often declared he once had been.

His ordinary attire was a loose dressing-gown, too seasoned with drops of science and of time to c be any longer related to any known material or colour ; but in it much good work had been done by him ; and it is hard if in these days of intellectual progress a man is to be judged by his coat. Then there was "old Kate," so called less from her years than her long service in the family. She had been Aglae's first nurse, succeeding the ayah, and was as much an institution as Mrs. Dorriforth herself. Lastly, there was the huge Newfoundland, which had been gradually promoted to be Aglae's constant "squire." Aglae was absent from home, staying with friends, when Captain Mildmay came to pay his first visit to the Dorriforths. He knew that a niece belonged to them. He had heard she was pretty, and countrified in tastes, and " odd," and the image in his mind of her who was to come was that of a merry, rosy milk maid, plump and pert, tramping about the farm in goloshes, and brown with the sun.

What were his feelings when he came across the "milkmaid," and how did that come about ? It was a meeting as " odd " as Aglae could be, and merits a description. PSYCHE 19 Mildmay enjoyed the easy habit of life in the Dorriforths' house. The meals were punctual ; but if guests were not so, nobody seemed surprised ; something hot was forth coming at any hour : this came of Mr. Dorri forth's habits in the pursuit of science, and the impossibility of tying him down to times and seasons. No doors or windows were ever shut ; but pretty curtains kept out such draughts as interfered materially with comfort. This was a " fad " of Mrs. Dorriforth's, who had a mania for fresh air. Mildmay had at once fallen in with this life, as easy as an old shoe, and hence it happens that one evening he came whistling home from a long country walk, and entered the house by springing in at the window.

As he did so, he brushed roughly against a woman's figure, and before he could ejaculate an apology, the face belonging to it gave him so violent a shock that he stood breathless for a minute staring at it. "Never mind, / was swinging on the window too," said a voice, no milkmaid's in its delicate quality ; " but you might have had me down ! " "Indeed," stammered Mildmay, at a loss, " I really " "lam Aglae Dorriforth," said the girl ; " I came home to-day. I suppose you are Captain Mildmay . " " I am," answered he, more amazed than she could be at his own difficulty in recovering himself. " Pray forgive my stupidity ; but you are so different from what I thought you would be." " Am I ? " said Aglae — and here her singular unconsciousness of self came out ; she said it almost in a crestfallen tone ; — " but I shall improve.

I am not bad when you know me. Lots of people like me. I hope you will too, afterwards," and she put out her hand. Mildmay took it in a tremor of pleasure. " I believe I shall," catching the contagion of her naive manner. " Heavens, how ridiculous you must have thought me ! " " Not so very," said Aglae. " Aunt is always telling me not to swing there, but I PSYCHE 21 must swing. I have had some ugly falls in my time." The thought which was uppermost in Captain Mildmay's mind so possessed him that at these words he looked at her from head to foot, as though expecting to miss some part of her ; and then Mrs. Dorriforth entered, and the lamps were brought in, which put out the pallid glimpse of day light which had transmuted Aglae's face and figure. The awkwardness he felt was soon lost in laughter as Mildmay excused his ungainly entrance, ancl sketched the picture of the Aglae he had expected to meet.

Aglae's prettiness lost nothing by candlelight, and when she smiled her mirth was so contagious that she was herself like a lamp set in dusky ways, or a jewel in dark hair. It was a disappointment which seemed to him colossal, that dinner should be scarcely over when a message from some cottage hard by was given to Aglae, and she announced her intention of leaving them immediately. Mild may, seeing that she was evidently going out alone, offered his escort, and to his dismay it was declined. " Aglae is accustomed to go out by herself, and it is only across the paddock," said Mrs. Dorriforth. " Our big Cæsar trots before her, and quite understands his responsibility." "And do you suppose you would be half as capable as he ? " said Aglae. " He has his wits about him more than any man ; " and she stooped to pat the broad back of the New foundland with a confidence that swelled his canine soul.

Mildmay being at the moment very far from sure of his own wits, gave in weakly at once, and had nothing further to say. Aglae scampered away with Cæsar to fetch her hood, and the moment her back was turned Mildmay spoke half involuntarily to Mrs. Dorriforth. " Your niece has really, I may hope, for given my strange meeting with her ; but as I jumped in, the start she gave me quite overpowered my senses. She reminded me so curiously of a statue I have seen in Naples that it seemed to me not a real woman, but PSYCHE 23 a goddess come to life. It is the Capri Psyche ; and almost her first words, that she ' had had some ugly falls,' added to my dream-like illusion in quite an absurd way, for the statue is much mutilated. It is a fragment so — so — " he was going to say beautiful, and felt the word a desecration — " so extraordinary that any human likeness to it strikes one as almost uncanny."

He went on to tell the story of its finding at Capri, and how Psyche was the Greek impersonation of spiritual love and of the soul, as opposed to Venus, who represented mere fleshly beauty, so that Mrs. Dorriforth (whose fancy was easily excited) was as interested and pleased as though the Capri fragment had been a living example whom Aglae might be proud to emulate ; when Aglae came in again and gaily caught up what was said. " And so you thought I was a marble image ! " she laughed saucily. " You looked to see if I had no crown to my head and only one row of ribs ; but I am quite perfect (as to bones), and I have plenty of back to my head, where all the bad passions lie : auntie knows all my bad passions." "Oh, Aglae, why did you interrupt? I was so enjoying the description ; and now Captain Mildmay has forgotten Naples, and Psyche, and all."

And well he might, with Psyche before him, in such a blue hood, and absolutely refusing to let him go with her. " Shouldn't be inconsiderate, clear," said her uncle — who had not really heard a word — trying to be severe. " Always interrupting : breaks up trains of thought. Fidgety ! " " Oh, she isn't that," cried Mrs. Dorriforth. " Has cook given you the soup, darling ? Go quickly, and come back to us quickly." " Sweet little old auntie ! " cried Aglae in her impulsive way, flinging her arms round her neck, and perching herself airily on her knee as a child might have done, regardless of criticism. " I shall never have such another sweet little old auntie ! " It was a pretty group ; Mrs. Dorriforth's dainty grey " bull knot " and lace cap that surmounted her clear china face and habitual PSYCHE 25 dress of light, bright colours, contrasted so brilliantly with the girl's vivid but scarcely fair complexion, and soft, low colouring of hair and robe ; but Mr. Dorriforth's old fashioned formality, last relic of his tradition ary love of order and propriety, sometimes reproved Aglae's free-and-easy habits.

He disliked all such "antics" before visitors, especially gentlemen. At Aglae's caress Mr. Dorriforth uttered an unsympathetic grunt, which Aglae took no notice of, probably did not hear ; but auntie looked entreatingly round at each. Then up jumped Aglae under a new impulse and scurried off. " Dear child ! " said Mrs. Dorriforth, when the door closed, half apologetically, half affectionately, and not seeing in Mildmay's averted face the undisguised glow of admiration. "She is always the same child. If I had ever had children of my own, Sylvain," she added wistfully, "it is what I should most have regretted and bewailed — their grow ing any older. Every day I should have begrudged ; youth only comes once in life. Aglae is very sweet, bless her." "So sweet," said Captain Mildmay, "that the miracle is that she is still Miss Dorriforth."