Love's young dream

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CHAPTER I. *' You are falKng headlong into a snare, Mawditt ! ^'

These were the words that awoke me. I was sitting within the ruins of the abbey with a book npon my knee, but I had not been reading. Like a child, I had been making pictures in the sky. Great battles of shadowy hosts with banners flying, wrecked ships tossing in stormy seas with dire shapes rising from the heaving waters — ^these had wafted by in the driving clonds tiU the snn set, and twilight, like a gray curtain, fell down softly on my visions, and I slept.

I awoke with a start at the sound of Paulas voice.

'^ You are falling headlong into a snare, Mawditt !''

" Thanks for the warning, but I don't see it," the other says in his drawling tone.

'' Perhaps not, but it is none the less palpable to

VOL. I. B others ; and there is sorrow and mischief enough in this honse as it is ; yoa shall not add to the heap. I insist on yonr changing yonr conduct."

"Yon are taking a very odd tone with me, Lermit. I don't see what right yon have to interfere."

" I have every right. The girl is my mother's ward."

So it was of me they were speaking. I Vras the snare, A flush like fire scorched my face, an angry pain clutched my heart, I glanced round hurriedly for a way of escape unseen ; but there was none, bo I had no alternative between remaining where I was, or stepping out between the broken arches and overwhelming them with my presence. Aa the impulse to act thus flashed through my mind a flood o£ shame and fear quenched it, and I shrank back E^ainst the pillar by which I sat, vexed and trembling, yet listening again.

" Yonr mother's ward, ' most potent, grave, and reverend signior ; ' but not yours, I presume ? "

"Mine in this, that when my mother is powerless to protect her, I will."

" Well, what is the offence ? " Charlie Mawditt says lightly. " I see no harm, and no cause for quarrel."

" It is harm to trifle with a girl's happiness and compromise her name by empty attentions."

^^My dear fellow, yoa do not understand the «,ge in which you live. Love is no longer a serious business, it is an amusement. A young lady nowa- -days is perfectly capable of managing her flirtations without compromising that shadow, her name, or touching that cobweb, her happiness, with even a fly^s wing. I am merely a detrimental. Miss liuttreU can despatch me when she pleases.^^

" Speak plainly, Mawditt. I understand nothing x)f this jargon.^'

" Ah ! I always forget that you are half a monk, and know more of cloisters than of the world. Your education has been sadly neglected among books, Lermit. What a tremendous fellow you would be if books walked about instead of men! But as it is, you are always knocking your head ^.gainst living flesh and blood, and then wondering you are hurt.^'

"Laud your own ignorance another time, Mawditt. We are all aware of the fact that schoolmasters^ sons learn little/^

" Hit away at the governor as much as you like, It^s my private opinion if he had not been a schoolmaster he would have been something worse.^'

"A warder in a gaol, perhaps, with the duty especially delegated to him of flogging refractory convicts.^^

Charlie did not grow angry even at this. He

B 2 was too nsed to hear abnse of his father. He was brought up among a herd of schoolboys who hated him natnrally^ and not without cause.

"We shall drift into a row if we talk of the governor/^ was all he said. " He always has spies about. It is an old trick of his.''

Paul's bitter contempt seemed to cut through the air like cold steel. I felt it where I sat^ but it did not touch Charlie.

^' We wiU go back, if you please, to our subject/' Paul says coldly. ^' I do not desire any unfriendliness. Pledge me your word that you will cease this folly, and I shall be satisfied."

"Are you serious ?" Charlie asks in a changed voice. '^ I assure you there is no need. There is nothing at all alarming in my attentions to Miss Luttrell. As to dropping them, that is another thing : that seems hard. Though I am not a fierce detrimental, I should retire the moment I was snubbed."

^^ But you consider you are not snubbed," Paul says in a hard tone.

'^Not by the young lady, certainly. And I always make it a point of honour not to give way before the fire of mere elderly snubbings. A detrimental expects those."

The long drawl of his voice, the conceit of his manner, appeared to irritate Paul.

"Will you try to be something better than a mammmmtmmmmmKmmmmmmmmms^ coxcomb for an instant V he says earnestly. ^^Now tell me, do you believe Miss Luttrell cares* for

you?^'

^' Cares for me ! ^' repeats Charlie with insufEersble conceit. '^ I believe Miss Luttrell is much too sensible to break her heart for me or for anyone, «,lthough I do flatter myself that she is not quite insensible to the meritorious efforts I make to •enliven her imprisonment in this old fortress.^^

''Then, in fact,^^ and Paul's tone grew harder and drier, '' you feel no serious attachment and intend none. And you are aware that Miss Luttrell^s friends would never sanction any engagement in which you might entangle her, yet you deem yourself at liberty to continue attentions which can only do her an injury. Mawditt, the whole thing is meap a,nd heartless, and it shall stop, as I live.''

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the furnace of the grazing king could scarcely have felt hotter than I did as these flaming words poured over me. Tears of wrath fell down my -burning cheeks. I gazed round wildly for some new, unthought-of outlet of escape, but the walls did not open for me, no miracle happened to help me ; so I could only gather myself up into a ball at the foot of the pillar, and bury my hot face in my hands.

How dare they, oh, how dare they talk about me like this ? I would hate them both henceforth

6 LOVE EA8 EYE8.

ft

for ever. What is it that odious Charlie Mawditt i& saying now ?

" Not at your dictation, Lermit. Let your mother speak if she thinks proper. But I affirm again there is no necessity for anyone's interference. It is all nonsense/^

'' My mother ! You say that, knowing well my mother will not speak unless your father orders her.. She is a slave to his tyranny. Grod ! why should my lips be forced to utter such bitter truths ? Do you want to be knocked down ? Do you want to quarrel ? If so, have it if you will ! I am ready.^^*

'^ What a fiery fellow you are ! I don^t want to quarrel, and least of all in my father^s defence.^^ And GharHe laughs faintly. '' FU fight in a better cause if you like, but I should be sorry to eat daggers in defending the amiable peculiarities of my respected parent.^'

Paul is silent, but his disgust and bitterness, seem to fill up aU the atmosphere around him with a breath of gall.

" I see what it is, Lermit, I am in your way ;. and if you will say so honestly I will retire at once.^'

This from Charlie, with an irritating affectation in manner and voice. A burning desire to silence him seizes me, and I start up in such haste that the ivy-leaves around me rustle and shake ; but I sub—

LOVE HAS EYES.

side again to the ground^ for Paul is speakings and I listen to his words with my heart, not my ears.

" I might feign not to comprehend your meaning, Mawditt, or I might call you to account for your words, but FU do neither. I will simply say that I have spoken to you for no such selfish motive as the one you impute to me.^'

" Then you don^t admire Miss LuttreU ? ^^

"Not as much as you do apparently. You forget I have known her nearly all her life.^^

" That gives you the advantage of understanding her temper.'^

And OharUe beats against the ivy-leaves with his cane and whistles insolently.

" I made no allusion to her temper when I spoke of knowing her.^^

"But you meant that. You implied that was your reason for not admiring her."

" Evidently you wish to get acquainted with my temper, Mr. Mawditt, and I don't think you will admire it if you rouse it a little further. Take my explicit meaning now in what I said — it is simply this : that, being Miss LuttreU's oldest friend, I will defend her against you and against herself .'' Against herself ? '^ Charlie says sneeringly. Yes; against her inexperience, and that craving for excitement which makes her snatch at any amusement, even such as you afford."

" Ha ! lia ! ha ! mucli obliged," laaglis Charlie. "That's good/'

" No, it is bad ; it is even dangerous,'' Paul says gravely.

''I hope you don't allude to our flirtation as ddngerous !" Charlie observes with renewed conceit. '^ Mere pastime, I assure you, nothing more."

" It is a pastime which has its danger for you, young fellow, though you may not see it. Miss Luttrell is marvellously attractive and beautiful. Remember it is the moth who gets singed by the flame and falls ; the lamp burns on."

" Thanks," very drawlingly, ^^ for your flattering simile. My wings are imscorched as yet."

He laughs, but it is an uneasy laugh, and there creeps into the air around him a dull sense of annoyance and fear.

"So you imagine the young lady is amusing herself at my expense ? " he says.

" Perhaps so," Paul returns dryly. " When dull I have seen Coralie amuse herself with worse things. Warfield is a prison to her. Prisoners have been known to amuse themselves with spiders."

Charlie's shadow passes and repasses, flitting through the broken arches with an angry air about it. I hear his cane striking in a vexed way against ivy and myrtle and fuchsia that cling to the ruins, but, except for a laugh of forced lightness, he is silent.

LOVE HA8 EYES.

eg

Mawditt/' continues Paul, "I am sorry you, cannot see the danger of the path on which you are walking. There is a stronger mind than yours at work on this/^

" Do you think so ? '^ Charlie says with assumed carelessness.

" I am certain of it, and I warn you in time, lest you repent too late.^^

*^ Do you mean that my father ? '^

^^ Yes, I do ! ^' Paul breaks in abruptly, " and what his motive is who shall say ? One can only divine that it is bad.'^

There is a mementos silence ; then young Mawditt shakes off his tremors, but there is a little husky quiver in his voice when he speaks.

" What harm can come of a little innocent flirtation? I believe you like Miss Luttrell yourself — that^s the upshot of it aU.^'

My heart bounds against my side. I grow hot, then cold as ice. Oh that the earth would'lopen and swallow me up ! I cannot hear any more of this cruel talk and live.

By some subtle sense I know that Paul is too angry to answer. I know that never was young Mawditt so near having a clutch upon his collar, and a fist executing vengeance upon his countenance as he is now, yet I know too that Paul will reply quietly. There are compHcations enough at Warfield ; he will not add his mite to the heap of confusion and tronble on which we sit.

I am right ; he gulps down his rage ; his words, fall as tranquilly and coldly as snow.

" You are mistaken. I do not admire Miss. Luttrell in the way you suppose. She is my mother^s ward; that is quite suflBlcient reason for the friendship I feel for her and the interest I take^ in her.^^

'*I can't believe you/' Charlie returns sulkily. " If you can live in the same house with such a girl and not admire her, you must be a rock.''

" I am not the man to take advantage of her position here in order to make love to her. There you and I differ, Mr. Mawditt. And having lived in the same house with Coralie a great deal longer than you have, I may not see so much cause for admiration; and this may account for my having attained to a rockiness which you do not possess."

'^ Oh, I daresay you are better acquainted with her disposition than I am, but your hints against her don't alarm me, and I shall certainly not make^ myself disagreeable to her merely to oblige you."

" So you will not take my warning ?" Paul says,, and his voice is firm and hard. " I tell you again you are but a straw in your father's coarse hands."

" Leave me and my father alone, Lermit ! That is what I would thank you to do.^

}y

" Very well ; I shall take other means to defend my mother^s ward from the Mawditt machinations/*

"That's a hard word,*' sneers Charlie with a little harsh, abrupt laugh, "I am scarcely up to the mark of such a word as that. But if you mean you'U interfere with me in some unpleasant way, I would advise you not to do it. My position here is surer than your own.''

" What is that you say?" Paul asks in a voice so calmly full of fire, that I compare it to iron at a white heat. Charlie does not know Paul as I do. He answers with gay insolence :

"I am saying that you stand more chance of being hurled from the battlements of this old fortress than I do, if it comes to a fray between us."

This insulting allusion to Paul's unhappy position in his mother's house, makes my heart beat like a hammer with fear and anger. In the momentary dead silence I fancy its loud throbs can be heard and will betray me, and I quiver with terror from head to foot. Paul's reply strikes the ear like .the thud of bullets. .

" You are not a gentleman, nor the son of a gentleman ; you are not worth a quarrel. There will be no fray between you and me. I have borne so much for my mother's sake, that a few insolent words of yours put into the scale don't make a feather's weight. I am sorry for you ; I say this again and for the last time. You are ranning into a snare set by a cunning hand^ for what motive I don't know. But if yon are bent on destroying yourself^ yon shall not destroy others H I can stop

Paul walks away slowly, passing round the angle of the chapel wall, not crossing the open glade. Charlie stares after him like an angry schoolboy, and mutters to himself perhaps a curse or two, I do not catch the words.

Through the broken arches I see him traversing the shadows of the mins lying on the grass, and the long shafts of rosy light which the dewy sward has caught from the crimson sky ; then he vanishes, and I am left alone with my sore dismay.

imfm^^Bmmtm^srm

Chapter II

I DID not move. I sat bewildered, my mind like the driving clouds, with images of pain and terror bursting through in swift confusion. In this dazed mood I looked out upon .the ruins, and the hurrying sky rushing into darkness. One by one the shadows which had crept up to my feet stole away and died, and the twilight shrouded me about, dim, and cold, and heavy with some unknown fear.

I felt forlorn as a woman in a prison garment waiting for death ; and, like her, I could not shape the chaos of my misery into thought. I sat still and shivered.

I know not how the time went by, but when I awoke at last from this duU pain I started to see the moon had uprisen on the ruined abbey, and the grass was sprinkled with shadows of broken arch and mullioned window. Leaning against this I saw myself — a gray ghost with clasped hands and downstreaming hair loose upon my shoulders. I was the f orlomest shadow of tliem all. I seemed a dream in the midst of a dream.

'^ I am the only living one here/^ I said, looking Tound upon the tombs. "Why should I stand in the cold among these graves ? I am ahve, my heart beats J I hate these shadows of death. I feel the clammy touch of , unseen hands about me, I feel something cruel in the air chaining my soul. When will this man — ^this gaoler Mawditt — ^let me go free? I think the world is not so evil as this deathly quiet. There are viewless snakes in it coiling around me, dragging me down — down to perdition.

" Why have I Hstened to this boy — ^this young Mawditt ? His spirit is meagre as the thin darkness which borders the light, and which flies at a bird^s Toice. I hate him. I dould put my foot on him and crush him like an insect. Yet when I go back to the glare of that one dull lamp, and let the little world in upon me — ^this smallest, meanest world in which I writhe — I shall listen to him again. There js no help for it ; there is no other outlet for me. I am in the net.

^^ I will never be a secret listener again,^^ I say to myself scornfully. And I look out upon the ivy clinging to the roofless wall, in whose shadow those two had stood talking of me. There is a yew-tree close by, and Mr. Lermit^s tomb staring white and new, I shall remember the spot all my life.

Poor Mr. Lermit 1 All things are too new abont liim, and his wife has a new husband ; the letters are scarcely dry on his tomb; but eyes are dry, hearts are dry. Oh, it's a barren world !

The moonlight made me shiver, and the tablets on the wall gleamed ghastly white, like shrouds starting out of a sepulchre. My old childish fears tjrept chilly about me, and I sat still in my forlomness, with tears in my eyes unshed. In the old -days, before Mr. Lermit died, they would have come to seek me ; now I might perish here in my foolish terror and no one would know, or care.

I feel afraid to go home because I must pass Mr. Lermit's grave, so I sit still, with rays of moonlight flickering all about me like little chilly ghosts, and tall solemn shadows at my back, which I dare not turn and face.

If Paul now, I think to myself, would only remember me as he used to do, and come and fetch me, how glad I should be !

But had I not just heard him disparage me — speak of me as one whom he could not admire, having known all the faults and childish sins of my poor little life ? No, Paul will not come for me. So my heart sinks down again, and I look out through the moonlit ruins on the old graveyard of the abbey, which I must cross alone. I am not afraid of the crumbling tombs, the time-worn graves lying there

-their ancient inmates aa^^ worlds and worlds away — it is that ghastly white new sepulchre which seizes me by the heart and makes my imagination sick. If that ghost arose to speak his horror of all this wrong, to whom would he come but me ?

As this thought creeps through my mind with a little thrill of ice, something cold falls upon my down-drooping hand, and I start up and scream aloud.

It was only a small dead leaf blown in through the empty arches of the window, a leaf that had dropped young 'upon the grass among the tombs> and some heavy foot had crushed it. Somehow, as I hold it in my palm, I think of my dead sister lying in her far-away grave. I wonder why she was there, and why her voice was so sweet, and her eyes were so blue — ^f or the worms.

" She would be better here,'^ I say, " comforting me in my prison.^^

But the selfishness of my thought strikes me as I speak, and I feel glad she is in heaven, not sharing this iron chain with me, not tempted like me and other prisoners are to make friends with auL insect or a reptile.

The little leaf brings me some sort of comfort ; it seems to have a message in it, a secret of Hfe and death. I wiU keep it till my sister and I meet again, and when I ask her the meaning of it, and she speaks, I shall know why she went to heaven and I stayed on earth. Then this weight of chains will be lifted from my heart, and I shall be free for ever and for ever.

I am not afraid now to go home across the graves ; I shall even stand a moment at Mr. Lermit's tomb and read the letters of his name shining out clear in the moonlight.

He was good, and kind, and true. He died

before his time. I shall understand it all when this

little leaf is green again in heaven.

Mrs. Mawditt is in a huge arm-chair by the fire, her feet are on a footstool, her hands are folded on her lap, her eyes are half closed.

^^ OoraUe,^' she says, opening her eyes languidly, '^why can^t you sit sociably with the rest of the family of an evening ? Where have you been 1'^

To this last question I answer *^ Nowhere,'^ and I take a seat awkwardly, with consciousness flaming on my cheeks as I glance at Paul. He is not the same to me that he was yesterday — ^that he was even an hour ago — ^and I have a sort of dull surprise in me that he does not look changed. I fix my eyes on him> half in fear, half in wonder, and study all his face, and bring it back to my mind as it was a year ago— as it was in boyhood, when I first saw him.

VOL. I. c

'^What a change!" I think with a great sigh. He looks up at this, and his eyes gaze straight into mine and read my wondering sorrow, bat not the cause.

^^ In Dreamland again?" he says, and half smiles*

''No," I answer. "My dreams are over; I have been roughly awakened."

By the reproving glance which rests on me for a second, I perceive he thinks I am alluding to the bitter change that has come over Warfield since his father died; he cannot guess of my awakening in the ruins. He looks over at his mother. She has not heard me ; she has fallen asleep. Large, placid, self- contented, there is not a wrinkle on her fair smooth face, only a little peevishness at the comers of her lips, a fear in her light blue eyes when open.

Paul is reading some abstruse book — a book which seems to me as dry as dust and ashes, as hard to swallow mentally as uncracked stones would be to the real digestion, yet his soul apparently delights in it, and his eyes are glued to the page. I watch his shadow on the wall, and count how many times in a minute — ^in three minutes — ^he turns over a leaf. Only twice.

''Dreamland or mathematics?" I say very softly.

Paul looks up with a quick glance, and turns a page hastily.

/i

'^ Neither. It is political eoonoinyxioiujuLoi". J.U i» puiibiuai ouuuuiu^— — —

Of speech and amusement/^ I interpolate quickly. ^^It is more than economy — ^it is an absolute dearth and famine in those articles/'

" That is a species of domestic economy, though it may be good policy too/' he says, and relapses into silence with a determined air.

I cannot help sighing dismally; everything at Warfield is so doleful now.

"Shall we play bezique?'' I asked abruptly, after a long pause.

"I would rather not, thanks. I am very interested in my book.''

^^ Oh !" And I give a great yawn, and in self-defence I fetch a book also, and plant my elbow on it, and pretend to read.

The lamp looks like a dull eye watching Paul and me. It lowers and darkens sometimes like a real eye ; it seems angry to-night. I give up the pretence of reading, and bringing back the scene to my mental vision, I repeat in memory all Paul's words in the abbey ruins. Suddenly I find his eyes are on me with a strange inquiry in them.

Perhaps he thinks I am a little mad.

"Can you find nothing to do except castlebuilding ? " he says. " You look horribly dull. I am sorry to bore you with my book, but I really cannot help it."

G 2

He draws his chair to the table, by which manoeayre he puts the lamp between himself and me, and I cannot see his face. Bat his shadow on the wall looks grimmer than ever, and his book is as motionless as a book of wood.

Suddenly from some unknown cause the window shakes slightly, and Mrs. Mawditt wakes up.

" How it blows !^' she says sapiently.

'^ My dear mother, there is not a leaf stirring,^* returns her son.

'^ There was one,^^ I murmur — "only one — a little dead leaf. It brought a message for me. It touched me like a tiny cold hand from the grave.'^

"What is she saying ?^^ Mrs. Mawditt asks, peering at me with sleepy eyes, and anger just beginning to waken them into a feeble sparkle.

" Nothing, mother, nothing,^' Paul says impatiently. " Ooralie is always full of dreams and fancies \"

" Nothing ! ^^ repeats Mrs. Mawditt. " I heard the word 'grave.' Was that a fancy? CoraJie, you positively have no feeling — ^none ! Anyone would think at times you were not in possession of your senses. It is cruel to name poor Mr. Lermit to me — most cruel — I won't bear it P'

Paul rises hastily, his face ashen pale.

'^ It is only you, mother, who have named my father. Be silent, I entreat jon,"

" Why should I be silent ? It is rather hard if I can't speak in my own house. But there, I don't want to revive painful subjects. I should not have named your father but for Coralie. You must own it is her fault.''

" I am willing to own it, mother, if that will please you."

My indignation makes me bum, but it changes my voice to ice.

^' Thanks," I say to him grimly.

^^ What does it matter?" he returns in a cold, hard way.

^^ What does it matter?" repeats Mrs. Mawditt. " It matters a great deal. And I don't want you to say anything, Paul, merely to please me, as if I were a child or a baby. I understand Coralie a great deal better than you do. There is not a day of her life that she does not make mischief. Mr. Mawditt says she ^"

" Stop, mother, if you please. I have no wish to hear Mr. Mawditt's abuse at second hand. Surely you can spare us for one evening a repe tition of speeches which we hear too often from himself."

Mrs. Mawditt glares at her son with frightened face ; then she begins to weep and wipe her eyes laboriously. In a moment she turns on me, and metaphopicaUy rends me in pieces.

'* This is your fault, Coralie Luttrell ! This is your doing, turning my own son against me. You are always sowing dissension in this once happy home.''

I rise bewildered and trembUng, and fall into my seat again, feeling I have no strength for this battle. Her blind injustice had always struck at me cruelly, lately it has crushed me.

" Let me go away !'' I cry bitterly. '^ I have no wish to stay here to be a firebrand as you say. But it is false ! I never hurt anyone's happiness ; it is mine which is withered. I am going mad here !''

I have roused myself into burning wrath, and my vehement words fall into the stagnant atmosphere hke a thunderbolt into a dull pond, making the waters boil and hiss.