Silvia Craven; or, the Sins of the Fathers

Front matter

SILVIA CRAVEN; OR, THE SINS OF THE FATHERS. BY M. GORDON-HOLMES ' Who is Silvia _ what is she ? Holy, fair, and wise is she.' Shakes t'EARK. LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROAV, E.C. Ju lobing .fflcmonj OF A FAIR VOUKG LI F E , WHICH, TOUCHING THIS EARTH FOR A BRIEF SPACE, HAS LEFT BEHIND IT THE SWEETEST RECOLLECTION OF UNSELFISH PURITY. M. C.-H. CONTENTS CHATTER PAGF. I. BROTHER AND SISTER ----- I II. A MORNING WALK - - - - - 9 III. THE LEGEND OF THE ROCKS - - - 16 IV. SAD THOUGHTS - - - - - 23 V. CONKAIi ------- 35 VI. SUNDAY ----___ .g VII. MRS. BRUCE - - - . . - 59 VIII. TEA AND TENNIS - - - . - 72 IX. IN THE GLOAMING - - - - -85 X. PASSION - - - - - . - 94 XI. REVERIE - - - - - _ - I II XII. AN AFTERNOON CALL - - - - - 112 XIII. THE LITTLE REBEL - - - . - Il8 XIV. THE CELLS ----.. 121 XV.

JOHNSON ------- j ,2 XVI. CONFLICT - - - - _ _ ,c[ XVII. THE COMI3AT ---__. 1re XVIII. A GIPSY TEA ----__ rco CONTENTS. iv CHAPTER PAGE XIX. RIGHT OR WRONG ? - - - I72 XX. WORK AGAIN ... - I7S XXI. TLANS - - - - - 1S9 XXII. ALL HALLOW E'EN - 197 XXIII. TO BE OR NOT TO BE? - - 205 XXIV. FROM DEATH TO LIFE - - - - 209 XXV. RELAXATION - - - - 221 XXVI. MORE PLANS - - - 23O XXVII. 'THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE' - - 235 XXVIII. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL - - - 24

Chapter I. Brother And Sister

' It is good to be here !' exclaimed Silvia Craven, leaning back in her chair and surveying her brother, who was seated at the other end of the small square table, with an air of complete satisfaction. A glance at the said brother reveals the fact that he is a clergyman, and a glance at the apartment in which the pair are seated indicates plainly that he is likewise a curate. ' It is very nice to have you,' he returned pleasantly ; ' but I am afraid you will miss a great many things that you are accustomed to.' ' AA7hat nonsense, when I have my dear old Dominie!' protested the girl emphatically. 'This room is just what I expected it would be like — mahogany and horsehair furni ture, every other chair being provided with a crochet anti macassar of straggling design that has been washed dozens of times ; lustres — how I abominate them ! — ornamenting the mantelpiece; a stuffed animal of some description in a cracked glass case ; and, as it is the country, the view from the window sedulously blocked out by a row of tall geraniums in pots on the window-sill.

And the pictures well, they are only a slight variation of the ordinary type : a caricature of the Queen, a stage-coach on a wintry road, and a flock of impossible sheep with a many-gabled house in the background. Yes, it is just as I imagined it all ! And don't you think that I had far rather be here pouring out your coffee from this tin coffee-pot, upon which your good landlady has expended so much energy, than have it served to me from Mrs. Dunlop's silver one, when she can spare a moment from her pile of letters to attend to the wants of her family and governess? My dear Dominie, there is no comparison ! Not that I undervalue the com forts which surround me — far from it — I only wish you could share them I' Said the curate, disregarding the latter part of this speech : ' How in the world could you imagine all this ?' ' From past experience, my woman's wit, from logical deduction of the depth of your purse !' replied Silvia with a merry laugh. 'Oh, Arthur, you are just as much of a dear, solemn old Dominie as when I first called you so, years ago, when we tried to act scenes from " Guy Mannering."

You were always the good but peculiar Sampson, whilst I was alternately the little Henry whom you lost, the Lucy to whom you were so devotedly attached, or the lively Julia to whom your aspect and manners were such a constant source of amusement. Oh, those happy old days before -' She paused, her sweet eyes dimmed with tears for a moment, but resolutely taking up the thread of her discourse, she continued : ' I believe they are happier in the retrospect than they were in reality ; I know I was always getting into scrapes and tearing my frocks. At any rate, I mean to make the best of the present, and intend these holidays to be very happy ones. I wish we could throw aside ten years of our lives, and be children again for a few weeks. Don't you think we could try to do so, in feeling, at any rate ?' ' I fear my parishioners would be rather scandalized at such a proceeding,' responded her brother. ' Tiresome people !

Are they very easily scandalized ? You must tell me all about them and about your work ; you never do in your letters — that is why I have to draw so much upon my imagination.' ' My dear Silvia,' remarked her brother a trifle pompously, 'you must be aware of the fact that when one is asked to speak upon any particular subject, one immediately BROTHER AND SISTER 3 experiences the disagreeable sensation of having nothing to say.' She laughed merrily, and, rising from the table, said : ' Supposing you take me for a walk, then ? The air will freshen your ideas, and you can show me the beauties of the place, which I am longing to explore.' Her brother assented, and she disappeared to put on her hat, returning in a few minutes to find him standing, country-fashion, at the front-door. The prospect from that coign of vantage was not particularly romantic, and Silvia soon discovered that her strictures on the tall geraniums were quite unnecessary.

The curate's lodgings stood about the middle of one side of a village street, which consisted of a score or so of cottages built on a steep little bit of hill apropos of nothing, apparently, for the real village (or port, as it was more frequently called) lay a good mile further down, and the other village (also included in the very straggling parish) which but for the opposite houses would have been easily discernible, was slightly nearer, though the straight road, running at right angles to this village street, which led to it was so particularly straight, dusty, and shadeless that in summer, at any rate, it always appeared longer than it actually was. This same road, continuing in the opposite direction, changed its character entirely, and after a succession of twists and turns and one or two steep hills brought you at length to the most civilized town in the neighbourhood.

While the afore-mentioned village street, after crossing the highroad, continued in a straight line between cornfields and meadows for a short distance, and then, taking a sharp turn to the left, brought you in full view of the parish church of St. Ruth and the parsonage-house — the latter, for ugliness, certainly carrying off the palm from all the country parsonages with which I am acquainted ! The front-door abutting on the roadway, and ugly, flat windows, half of them blanks, justify the occasionally unceremonious entrance of uninitiated pedestrians, under the impression that it is an unsuccessful hotel. From the fore going, it will be seen that the little cluster of cottages on the hill, owing allegiance neither to Port St. Paul on the south nor Port Eric on the west, formed a miniature re public under the denomination of Cross Roads, containing within itself all the actual necessities of life — fresh air and pure water ; bread from the nondescript little shop which Mrs. Smith had long ago established in her front parlour next door to the curate ; vegetables from the little gardens, and such country luxuries as milk and butter, poultry, eggs and fruit, from the farm by the church.

The fishermen, who formed quite half the population, supplied the little community with their spoil, and what further you desired the passing cart of the butcher would supply, or, if still unsatisfied, a short train journey, or at most a pleasant walk into C , would procure anything in reason. As for clothing, the village tailor, who lived on the other side of theway,and displayed in his parlourwindow the latest Paris fashions (exemplified by meek-looking individuals poised in uncomfortable attitudes on the points of their ridiculously small boots), would be most happy to take your measures, as would also the cobbler who lived just where the cross-roads met, and who was also a florist, and carried off the prizes at the annual flower-show, which was patronized by the neigh bouring gentry. And should you be so unfortunate as to catch cold or sprain your ankle, I am sure the kind old doctor's widow, who inhabited a tiny low-roomed cottage next door but one to the tailor, would be delighted to come to your assistance with the slight medical knowledge which was all her self-indulgent husband had thought fit to leave her, considering, I suppose, that a woman delicately reared could live on the tiny income which had obviated the necessity of his ever purchasing her a gown or a bonnet.

Such was the little circle of which the curate was the centre spiritually, and, from his position in front of his own door at this moment, geographically also. Behind him lay the mystic chamber where the sweet-scented geraniums veiled his struggles over his weekly sermons from curious eyes, and perhaps — who knows ? — occasionally gave him inspirations. It seemed scarcely possible that Silvia, tripping lightly over the threshold of the cottage to join her brother, was only separated from him in point of age by two short years, so different were they in appearance, in disposition, in word, in thought and action. Of middle height, with rounded, well-proportioned limbs, which were equally graceful in motion and repose ; a delicate oval face crowned by a BROTHER AND SISTER 5 wealth of soft light hair, with just a sufficient tinge of sun light to brighten but not deepen it ; a mouth which, though small, gave no sign of indecision of character ; and such sweet eyes ! — blue, transparent, tender, truthful, with un known depths which seemed to go right into her soul, and a power of expression which appeared to be endless, now bright with vivacity, now tender, now loving, sympathetic, dreamy, and oftentimes, in repose, with a touch of sorrow in them which only seemed to deepen the peculiar sweetness which was her especial charm.

Arthur Craven, on the contrary, had dark hair and irregular, melancholy features; his large ungainly limbs had given promise as a boy of great height, a promise his manhood never verified ; somehow they always seemed as if they did not belong to him, and he seemed to feel them incongruous, difficult to guide in motion, and very much in the way in repose — like some old man who has been poor all his life suddenly coming into a fortune which he is too old to enjoy, and which breaks up his old habits and sur rounds him with new and irksome duties. Poor Arthur ! the sorrows of his life seemed only to have driven him into himself, whilst they had but served to deepen the sweetness of his sister's nature, quickening her sympathy with all the weariness and misery of this suffering world. Perhaps, before following the brother and sister on their walk, it will be as well for me to give a slight sketch of their past lives.

Till within four years of the commencement of this narrative they were, as far as outward circumstances and the possibilities of their own nature could make them, the happiest pair of young people in the United Kingdom. They lived with their parents in a charming old country house, of which it was the proud boast of the family to say that each generation had added to its beauty and value, while no Craven had ever parted with an acre of land or sullied his honour for the sake of gain. Sylvester Craven was a thorough Saxon, tall and fair, with the air of power and pride which belongs so essentially to physically strong men. Had he been a younger son, he would probably have gone into the army and worked off some of the strength that was in him in facing dangers and overcoming difficulties ; as it was, being the last of his line, he followed the traditions of his house and stayed at home, devoting his energies to the cultivation and improvement of his estate and the welfare of his tenants, having ample leisure to fulfil the duties of a family man — too often, alas ! neglected now in the feverish haste to become rich and powerful which characterizes this age, to the loss of so much that is pure and simple and spiritually ennobling.

His wife — a clever, delicate, refined, dark -eyed little woman— looked up to him with loving admiration for the strength and beauty of his manhood, and with a no less loving devotion and consummate tact supplied all that was lacking in his character. AVith such parents, devoted to their interests, yet unspoiling in their love, the brother and sister grew up totally dissimilar in person, character and pursuits, but greatly attached to each other — Arthur with his fondness for books, which he inherited from his mother, Silvia happiest in the open air, untrammelled by the conventionalities of town life, a sunny hearted little maiden who quite agreed with her father's maxim that 'the way to be happy was to be healthy, and the way to be healthy was to live as much as possible out of doors.' And Mrs. Craven, fearing lest her children should inherit her own delicacy, encouraged them to follow their father's advice.

Many a time did the good Squire stir up his studious son from his nook by the fire with a playful touch of his riding-whip, and carry him off for a ride to some distant farm through the cold clear air. Sometimes the boy was inclined to rebel a little, pleading work to be done (or his tutor; but a gentle 'Go, my son; save the books for the dark days, there are plenty of them,' from his mother, sent him off without another word. And Silvia would spring up with a pleading, ' Do take me, too, father dear,' a request never denied. And then the mother would watch them start from her window, sighing a little that she could not accompany her darlings, for the wintry air was too keen for her delicate lungs. And so their lives flowed on peacefully till Arthur was twenty and at Cambridge, and Silvia eighteen, keenly enjoying the summer days at the Park after her first brief taste of the gaieties of London life.

BROTHER AND SISTER 7 Then the crash came. The Squire had been moody and irritable ever since their return from town, taxing Mrs. Craven's tender patience to the utmost in attempting to soothe and cheer him. Ambitious for the prosperity of his children, and believing all that was said of the prospects and present prosperity of some wild venture set on foot by unscrupulous men to tempt such as he, Sylvester Craven had invested all his capital, confident that it would soon double itself, and utterly refused to take the advice of more wary friends, and withdraw while there was hope of realizing even a part of his fortune, replying to their well-meant remonstrances, 'that the Cravens were always lucky,' and adding confidently the proud boast of his house. It was the old story, with its inevitable result — ruin !

For, besides the loss of the money, he was so deeply involved that Craven Park had to be sacrificed to satisfy the creditors. It was a terrible blow to part with all the broad lands handed down by a long line of ancestors, who had been so confident in themselves and their prosperity that it had never occurred to them to entail their property, which had been willed from father to son, and son to brother, in an unbroken line since before the days of the Conqueror. The poor Squire, utterly overwhelmed, struggling with all the impatient force of a physically strong man against the fetters which he had forged for himself, feeling the sympathy and caresses which his family lavished upon him but as so many stabs of terrible reproach which goaded him to madness at every turn, crying out in the bitter anguish of his soul, 'AA'hy, why, why can such a thing be?' — the poor Squire, still in the strength and glory of his manhood, went down into the darkness and died !

The shock and horror of her husband's death coming upon her, unnerved as she was by the news of his ruin, proved too much for the frail creature whose life had been bound up in his life, and so the orphans were left desolate. The studious, nervous youth became all at once a melancholy man, and the sweet sunny-hearted girl a tender, pitiful woman. From the wreck of their former affluence they managed to save a thousand pounds, which Arthur wished at once to settle upon his sister ; but she, with a pathetic touch of her father's independent spirit, utterly refused to appropriate the whole of this sum to her own use, and suggested instead that her brother (whose unpractical temperament she knew so well, and whom she rightly judged to be unfitted for a business life) should continue his studies at Cambridge, take his degree, and then enter the Church ; whilst she should go abroad to supplement her already good education, and train herself to become a first-rate governess.

Just as he had yielded to his mother's wishes, so, without a murmur, Arthur yielded to his sister's plans. He had known, from the first moment when misfortune came upon them, that he would no longer be able to devote himself heart and soul to the abstruse scientific studies which had been his delight, and in which it was his ambition to excel, and he had thought of embracing the clerical profession ; but in offering all that remained of his patrimony to Silvia he had sacrificed even that desire, and turned his thoughts in a dull, despairing way towards other and more distasteful modes of earning his bread. Silvia's plan in many respects succeeded. She, at least, fulfilled her part of qualifying herself thoroughly for her new duties, and when, after a couple of years spent on the Continent, she returned to London and compared notes with Arthur (who had just accepted the curacy of St. Ruth's), she found that after all expenses had been paid they still possessed a small sum of money to be laid by against the proverbial rainy day.

Through a kind friend who had known her from child hood, she obtained the situation of resident governess in a family living in London, who treated her with courtesy and consideration, but looked upon her relations with them from a purely business point of view, and thought they had done their duty when they paid her salary regularly and occasionally complimented her on the improvement and progress of her pupils. But it never occurred ot them to show any interest in herself or her belongings, or to talk to her of anything apart from the children and their doings, to give her now and then some little pleasure, some kind surprise, which would have turned her honestly, faithfully BROTHER AXD SISTER 9 performed duties into something akin to a labour of love, and bound the lonely governess heart and soul to her employers and their interests. ' She had the dear children, how could she be lonely ?' they would have said had any thing of the sort been suggested, forgetting that the ' children ' were not always ' dear,' and that they demanded a patience and forbearance from her which they would have found hard to render under similar conditions.

And Silvia was so amiable, so thankful for the protection their roof afforded, and thought so humbly of herself and her attainments, that she never looked out for slights to be resented, but thought herself fortunate that she was not thrown amongst actively disagreeable people. On the whole, the change of prospects and lack of home influence affected Arthur more than his sister. A man is seldom so patient under trial as a woman, and when he is of a reserved, shy disposition he is apt to shut himself up with his resentful, unhappy self, forgetting that the mere bearing in silence is not all that is required of us, but that, hard though it be, we must strive after cheerfulness, that so patience may have her perfect work.

Chapter II

A MORNING WALK. The brother and sister were rather silent as they walked down the hill together, passed through the railway-gates and over the level crossing, and proceeded along the white high road that led to Port St. Paul. It is often so with those— however near and dear they may be to each other — who have been separated for a time, and who, after the first greetings and mutual inquiries are over, find themselves a little constrained — not quite en rapport, as our French neighbours say. Under these circumstances, when those con cerned are of opposite sexes, it is most frequently the woman, with her acknowledged tact, who comes to the rescue. This case was no exception to the rule, for, before the silence had time to become embarrassing, Silvia broke it with the remark : ' I thought you were going to tell me about the place and the people.' 'The parish of St. Ruth,' began the curate obediently, 'covers an area of some twenty miles, and is situated in the south-western part of the island of Mome ; the scenery is wild and picturesque in the extreme ; the population, con sisting chieflv of fishermen and their families, numbers ' But he got no further, for, with an expression of countenance which vividly recalled to his memory the merry little sister of happier days, Silvia laid her fingers playfully on his arm, exclaiming : 'Oh, Dominie, you are really too bad!

Do you think I want quotations from the local guide-book, which you seem to have studied most industriously before sending it to enliven my journey?' ' I thought you wanted to know about the place and people?' ' Of course I do !' 'And I thought the manner I had chosen would combine instruction with ' 'Amusement? Probably; but, unfortunately, it does neither the one nor the other : it only bores me.' ' I am very sorry,' returned her brother, looking perplexed ; 'but how can I do as you ask me, and amuse you at the same time?' •Since you don't know, it is difficult to instruct you. Don't you remember, when we were children, I never would listen to your dry lectures, but when you told me stories I was all attention ? Now, I wished a little while ago that we could be children again for two months, and do you suppose that I am going to listen to your grave lectures on the very first day ?

No, indeed ! and as you don't seem to have any stories to relate, I must ask you questions, always providing that you answer them.' The curate promised readily to do so to the best of his ability, and they walked on amicably together. I think, for my part, that the girl's heart was so full of the old memories A MORNING WALK 11 which her brother's presence conjured up, that she dared not permit herself to be serious, and forced herself to assume the tone of merry raillery which seemed partially to dispel the gloom from his brow. Then, too, she had no wish to spoil the only real holiday she had had for two years, for the previous summer, to her great disappointment, she was unable to leave her pupils from fear of spreading the infection of the fever from which they were suffering. Presently a band of fishermen passed them — fine, sturdy looking fellows with erect carriage, bright eyes, and honest, straightforward glances which were directed towards them with a look of mingled recognition and curiosity. 'Good-morning, sir!

Fine day, miss!' they said, touching their caps and striding on much at the same rate as they would have handled an oar or hauled a rope. The curate returned the cheery greeting as a matter of course, and Silvia with a kind smile, thinking it was only accorded to her out of respect for him ; later on she learned her mistake, and many a time was a reverie broken in upon by a similar greeting in an unknown voice, and many a time, when returning from some expedition in search of wild flowers or specimens of the beautiful wild ferns for which the island is famous, she would be startled by the remark, 'You've been gathering ferns; have you got what you want ?' followed, in all probability, by directions to places where they were most likely to be found. Such kindly interest in a stranger's doings pleased and touched her, showing as it did that in this out-of-the-way corner of her Majesty's kingdom the peasantry still retain the simplicity and kindliness of heart which the rapid growth of large cities (drawing to them a constant supply of country-folks, who increase competition by overcrowding the labour market, thus making the struggle for life harder) seems to be crushing out of the people, leaving instead a spirit of stony indifference, a surly independence sad to witness, hard to combat, and, oh, how grievous for all concerned in the consequence ! ' What fine-looking men ! are they some of your par ishioners ?' 'Those are; but a good many of the fishermen waver between church and chapel.

They like to have their weddings, christenings, and funerals performed according to the rites of the Church of England, but for the rest seem to prefer to attend one or other of the Dissenting chapels.' ' How strange ! And yet I don't wonder, for I dare say they feel more important in the chapels, and perhaps you don't make them sufficiently welcome when they do come to church; in fact' — here she shook her head at him in mock reproach—' I'm very much afraid you don't look after your flock properly !' ' As I am neglecting them for your sake this morning, ma'am, I don't think you ought to lecture me,' he replied, laughing, at which she laughed, too, and some sunburnt children playing in front of a cottage looked up with astonishment at seeing the grave curate so merry, and then ran indoors to tell their mother that ' Misther Craving was going down to the port with a pretty lady.' And the mother came out, and stood bareheaded in the road, shading her eyes with her hand as she gazed at the graceful girlish figure trying to keep in step with the curate's awkward stride, and wondered vaguely whether it could be the sister whose expected arrival had been whispered in the port.

By-and-by they came upon a tiny bay. Silvia stopped instinctively at a low stone wall, which seemed to have been made expressly for the support of tired elbows, and looked down silently at the summer blue water. The tide was flow ing in softly, lazily, in the sunshine ; now and then a little adventurous wave would break away, looking like a gleam of silver as it caught the light, and leap up the shore, rushing back again with a low gurgle when it reached the edge of the pebbled margin of the bay. Higher up was a tangled fringe of seaweed, turning yellow, red, and dark-brown in the sun. Down in the pools among the rocks the colours were cooler, softer, the broad ribbon seaweed was a bronzegreen shading from dark to light, with glistening spots of white, and the feathery varieties were of brighter greens and fawns, and lovely shades of coral-pink and red.

Up the steep bank grew coarse grass and stunted bushes, interspersed with bracken and overhung with blackberry bramble; on the top, facing the sea, was a cornfield, not golden enough yet for reaping, for the harvest is late on the island. 'How lovely ! let us go down to the beach,' said Silvia ; A MORNING WALK 13 and her brother followed obediently as she tripped down the steep rough pathway. ' What do they call it ?' 'Chapel Bay,' he replied laconically, looking not at the familiar scene, but at the girl, whose expressive eyes were drinking in the loveliness in a strange rapt way. Had he been in the least degree imaginative, he would have under stood her mood and sympathized with it ; understood the hungry longing for the freedom of an out-of-door country life, which had been growing more and more day by day ; understood the feeling of suffocation which she had ex perienced as she walked languidly through the London streets, hemmed in by the tall houses, and casting a hopeless glance now and then at the haze of smoke which obscured the azure of the sky.