A Search For A Secret: A Novel. Volume 1

Ada lifted her eyes in comic amazement and penitence.

"Dear me! to think of my having angered his royal highness! Did I say anything very dreadful, Agnes? I do not remember his being so fierce with me since I was twelve years old. One would think he had been crossed in love. Eh, Agnes! what do you say to that?" she asked, with rather a mischievous tone.

"I am sure I do not know," I said, composedly.

"Oh, you are sure you do not know! Well, let us see if we can guess. Not long ago, when Lord Bangley was in question, he became furious against him; now, he is enraged with me for recommending that nice little Lord Holmeskirk. Put two and two together, my dear, and four is the undoubted result."

"What nonsense you are talking, Ada!" I said, colouring greatly. "Your brother no more thinks anything about me than – than – " and I stopped for a comparison.

"Than you do about him," Ada suggested.

"He thinks nothing of me," I said, ignoring her suggestion, "except as an old school-fellow and friend; and I really am surprised, Ada, that ever you should talk such nonsense."

"Very well, my dear," Ada said, tranquilly; "then I will say no more about it. I certainly thought I had an average amount of perception, and could see as far into a brick wall as my neighbours; but it seems I cannot. I know, now, that my brother, who never cared for music, and who never went ten times to the opera in his life, only goes every night we do because he has acquired a sudden taste for music. Still, in that case, you will allow it is odd that he should sit so much behind your chair, and talk to you all the time the music is going on. No doubt, however, he is criticising the performance for your benefit; but, as he never speaks loud enough for me to hear, of course I could not guess that. Another thing too, is, to say the least of it, strange – Percy, till you came, was at work all day in his room upon Sanscrit and Hindostanee, and smoking so, that, in spite of the double doors which he has on purpose, the upper part of the house used quite to smell of his cigars, and I was always expecting mamma to complain about it. It is, then, certainly strange that he should now find time to idle away all his morning with us, and to ride out by the side of our carriage in the Park of an afternoon. However, I dare say all this is because he has finished his study of Eastern tongues, and is arrived at perfection in them. How stupid I have been not to have thought of all this before!" and here Ada went on sipping her coffee, as if quite convinced that she had been altogether in error.

Honestly, I was astonished. It had seemed so natural having Percy always with us, so pleasant listening to his sensible conversation, so different from the light flow of badinage we heard of an evening – it seemed such a matter of course, to enjoy the little quiet – well – flirtation at the opera, that, up to this moment, I can say honestly that it had never seriously entered my head that Percy Desborough cared for me. As, however, I thought over all our conversation together, not so much what he had said as the way in which he had said it, the conviction came over me that perhaps Ada was right after all; and the colour came mounting up into my face, till I felt a deep crimson even over my forehead.

Ada was watching me, although she did not seem to be doing so; and guessing, from what she could see of my face, that I had arrived at the conclusion that it was as she said, she jumped up from her chair, and, kneeling down by me in her old impulsive way, she put her arms round me, and kissed my burning cheeks.

"You dear, silly, blind Agnes! you know I am right, and that Percy loves you."

I was silent a little, and then I said —

"But are you sure of what you say, Ada?"

"Quite sure, Agnes: he has not yet said as much to me, but I know it just as well as if he had. Have I not seen the way he looks at you when you are not noticing him? My dear child, I am quite sure about him. But about you, Agnes, do you care for him?"

"I never thought of him so, Ada – never once. I liked him very much indeed, but it never entered my mind that he cared for me in that way; so I never thought of it."

"But now you know he does?" Ada persisted, kissing me coaxingly.

"Ah, but I don't know yet, Ada; so you will get no answer from me on that head. But, oh, Ada!" I exclaimed, suddenly. "What would Lady Desborough say? Oh, I do hope it is not true! What would she say to Percy falling in love with a country doctor's daughter?"

Ada did not look at all alarmed.

"My dear," she said, laughing, "I do not think you need trouble yourself on that score. Country doctors' daughters, in general, are not heiresses of twenty-five thousand pounds. Mamma is, no doubt, ambitious, and expects that I shall make a great match; and had Percy been like other people, and remained in the Guards, and stayed at home, I dare say she would have thought nothing under a duke's daughter good enough for him. As it is, all that is changed. She was very angry indeed with him about it, but she has given it up now. Here he is in a regiment which in a year or so will go on foreign service; he is mad enough to intend to go with it, and where is he then? You may be quite sure of one thing, Agnes. My mamma is a very excellent woman, but she knows far too much of human nature not to have weighed in her mind, and accepted the possibility of Percy's falling in love, before she invited a very pretty girl like you to spend a month in the house at a time she knew Percy would be at home on leave."

I had no reply ready to this argument of Ada's, which I knew enough of Lady Desborough to feel was true; so I kissed her, and told her that she had talked quite nonsense enough for one morning, and that it was quite time to get ready to go out.

The last three weeks I spent in Eaton Square were perhaps more happy than the previous time, but I don't think they were so pleasant; that is, I did not feel so much at home. Before, I had been with Percy as I might have been with a brother, or rather, perhaps, with a cousin; but now, to feel in my heart – as I now did feel – that he looked at me in quite another way, made me feel different, and at times a little awkward with him. Before, if Ada left the room for any thing, I continued to chat with Percy as unconcernedly as if she had been present; now, I made some excuse to accompany her, or, if obliged to remain, rattled on about anything that came uppermost, to prevent the conversation by any possibility taking a serious turn.

Ada told me one day that Percy had asked her the reason of my remaining away so; but I told her she had no one to blame but herself, who had made me uncomfortable by talking nonsense to me about him.

"But he is very much in earnest, Agnes. He spoke to me last night, and said he was only waiting for an opportunity of speaking to you. You won't say 'no,' will you, Agnes darling?"

She asked in her coaxing way, kissing me as she used to do at school when she wanted me to do anything for her.

I did not answer. I felt very very happy to know now for certain that he loved me, still, I could not answer that question except to himself, especially to Ada, who would be sure whatever she promised me, to tell Percy. So I said at last, "There is no use, Ada, in his speaking to me now at all. I would never accept him or any other man, even if I loved him with all my heart, until my father had seen and liked him."

"But how is Dr. Ashleigh to see Percy?" Ada asked, with a dismayed face.

"Of course, Ada, it is not for me to make arrangements for your brother," I said quietly; and then, after a pause, seeing her blank dismay, I went on, "It is not for me to suggest, Ada; but as you have promised to come down for a week to us, in another six weeks when the season is over, on your way to Lady Dashwood's, I have no doubt that papa would be very happy to see your brother if he should be happening to accompany you."

I was conscious that although I said this laughingly, I was blushing crimson; but still I felt it was better so than that Percy should ask me now, for I quite meant what I said about papa's consent; but I was by no means sure of my own resolution if he asked me, which he was certain to do if I did not somehow put it off. Ada looked me full in the face, she saw that it would be as she wished, and she took me very gently in her arms, and we kissed each other lovingly, as if in pledge of the nearer relationship we were to bear. And then she made one more effort.

"But could you not say 'yes,' now, Agnes, and refer him to your papa? It would be the same thing, and put him out of his suspense."

"No, Ada," I said positively; "it would not be the same thing at all. If I said 'yes,' but which, mind, I have not said that I ever shall do, papa would be sure to give his consent because he loves me. But before I am engaged to any one, I should like papa to see him and like him first, and then when he tells me he approves my choice, I shall know he really means what he says."

After this, I have no doubt Ada told him something of what I had said, for from that time they ceased to try and contrive tête-à-têtes between us, and I saw that Percy was content to wait till the time I had indicated. So I was much more comfortable with him. His leave expired, and he went away three or four days before my visit ended. I took care the last day or two not to be alone with him, for I confess I doubted my own resolution as much as I did his. However, nothing was said till he was going, and then as he was saying good-bye, he held my hand and said, "Then I may hope to see you again in six weeks, Agnes?" and he looked so earnestly at me, that my stupid colour would come rushing up.

"Yes," I said, as steadily as I could, "papa will be very glad to see you, if you should happen to be accompanying Ada."

For a moment longer he held my hand, and it seemed to me that he drew me a little towards him as if he were going to kiss me. If Ada had not been in the room, I believe he would have done so; as it was, he lifted my hand and pressed it to his lips, kissed Ada heartily, and was gone.

The very last ball I went to before I left, a circumstance happened which gave me great pain at the time. I was dancing with Lord Holmeskirk, with whom, indeed, I danced more perhaps than with any one else, and we were speaking of my leaving on the following day, and he remarked almost seriously how much I should be missed, to which I replied with laughing disbelief. After the dance was over we took our seats on a sofa placed in a conservatory on the landing, half way up the stairs, and which was otherwise unoccupied. It was quite surrounded by flowers, so that although any one who came up-stairs could see us, still no one could hear what we said.

When we had sat down Lord Holmeskirk said, "So you do not think you will be missed, Miss Ashleigh? Now I can assure you that at least by me your absence will be keenly felt." And then without further introduction, he made me an honest straightforward offer.

I felt very surprised, and very very sorry, and told him so. I had looked upon him as a very pleasant partner, and had liked him very much, and I assured him that I had never for a moment imagined that he had regarded me in any other light.

"I don't suppose you love me now, Miss Ashleigh," he said earnestly. "There is no reason in the world why you should; but don't you think you could some day. Is it quite impossible that you may in time get to care for me?" And the honest young nobleman looked so pleadingly up in my face, that I could hardly restrain my tears.

"Lord Holmeskirk," I said, "I am very sorry indeed for what you have said to me. I am grieved that I should unwittingly have obtained the love of a true heart such as yours is without being able to requite it. It will be a matter of lasting regret to me. But it would be cruel kindness to deceive you. I cannot encourage you even to hope. There are many here far more fitted than I am to win your love, and whose rank would render them far more suitable matches for you than I could be. Your parents – "

"I can assure you," he began, earnestly, "I have their consent; I have already spoken to them."

"I esteem you still more for having done so, Lord Holmeskirk, and I am touched at their willingness to receive me; still, their consent must have been the result rather of their affection for you, than their own real approval of it."

I saw at once in his open face that it was so, and that his parents' consent had been reluctantly given.

"It could not be otherwise," I said; "they naturally wish you to choose one who, from her rank and connections, may strengthen your position, however high that may be. And now, I can only say again how sorry I am for the pain I have given you, but that it cannot be. I shall always remember you with esteem and regard, and nothing will give me greater pleasure than to hear you have made some happier choice."

The young man saw that any further appeal would be hopeless, and the tears stood in his honest grey eyes.

"Thank you very much for your kindness, Miss Ashleigh, but, believe me, I shall ever regard you – " "as a friend," I said, rising, and making a movement to the staircase. He offered me his arm, and as we went up I began chatting on indifferent subjects, as I did not wish any one to even guess what had taken place. As we walked round the room, we passed by where the countess, his mother, was sitting. I saw she looked at us anxiously, and as her son caught her eye, he shook his head slightly in answer to the question she asked, and I could see her eyes open, first in astonishment, and then soften with a variety of emotions, – sorrow for her son's disappointment, – pleasure that he was not going to make a match which she could not have thought suitable. As we passed again, she stopped us, and spoke a few words to me, for I had frequently spoken to her before, and had liked her much, for she was a kind, motherly sort of woman, though she was a countess. She said she heard this was my last ball, and that she should quite miss my face amongst the dancers.

"It is a fresh, happy face, my dear, and I hope it may continue so. Good-bye; you have my best wishes;" and she shook hands with me very kindly and affectionately, in a way which seemed to say a very great many things which she could not well express.

When I got back that evening, Ada, who had been rather silent on our way home, came into my room, as she usually did, for a talk, and said, "Agnes, I was going down the stairs to get an ice, and I saw you and Lord Holmeskirk go into the conservatory together, and you were there when I came up again, and I am quite sure by both your looks that he has made you an offer. Well?"

"What do you mean by well?" I asked, for I felt a little hurt that, after what I had said to her about Percy, she should ever dream of the possibility of my accepting any one else.

"Of course I mean what did you answer? Don't keep me waiting, Agnes: you don't know how anxious and impatient I have been to get home to ask you."

"After what I said to you about Percy, Ada," I said, rather coldly, "I should have thought it hardly necessary to ask. Of course I refused him."

"There, you dear Agnes," Ada said, almost crying on my neck, "don't be angry with me; but I have been so nervous, though I knew you would say 'no.' Still, it must require so much courage to refuse a nobleman; I know I never could;" and so she went on till she coaxed me into a good humour again, and we talked a long time before we went to bed. And so my gaieties ended, and next morning, bidding adieu to Ada and Lady Desborough, who was very gracious, and even kissed me, I started for Canterbury, under charge of a lady who was going down, and whom I met by arrangement on the platform of the station.

CHAPTER X

SUNSHINE AND SHADOW

Although I had enjoyed my trip to London immensely, yet I was very, very glad to get back to my dear old home again; happier even than before, for now, in addition to all my former home-pleasures, I had a secret source of happiness to muse over when alone. How bright life appeared to me, how thankful I felt for all my deep happiness, and how my heart seemed to open to all created things!

I had only one cause for sorrow, and that one which had for years been seen as a dim shadow in the far distance, but which had been for the last two or three years past increasing in magnitude, growing from vague ill-defined dread, to the sad certainty of coming grief. I mean the rapidly failing health of mamma.

From my farthest back remembrance of her she had never been strong. Not, perhaps, suffering from any decided pain or illness, but weak and languid, and unequal to any unusual exertion. For years the great part of her time had been spent on the sofa, but during the last few months she had been unmistakably failing; on my return home after my visit in London I found that there was a marked change in her appearance, and that she had grown decidedly thinner and weaker in that short time.

Papa, I could see, was very anxious about her; he was a good deal more at home now, and spent as much time as he could spare in the room with her, bringing his books in there, and sitting to study where she could see his face, and so close that she could exchange a few words with him occasionally without having to raise her voice. Ill as mamma was, I think she was never so happy in her married life as she was at that time. She now no longer troubled herself with domestic arrangements, but left all that to me, and was content to lie, holding a book in her wasted hands, and looking fondly across at her husband at his reading. When papa was there she liked, I think, best being alone with him and her thoughts; but when he was out, I used to take my work and sit beside her, and talk when she felt inclined, which was not often. Indeed, I had only one long conversation with her, which was about a month after I came back.

She had been lying very quiet one day, not speaking at all, but watching me while I worked, when she said:

"You have told us all about your trip to London, Agnes, and about your gaieties and amusements; but I do not think you have told all. As you sit there I can see sometimes the colour come up over your face, and your lips part a little, and your eyes soften, while your fingers lie idle on your work. Have you not some pleasant thoughts, dearest – some sweet hope for the future which you have not yet spoken of? Tell me, darling. I have not much longer to be with you, and it would make my last time more happy to be able to think of your future as somewhat secured, and to picture you to myself as mistress of some happy home. Am I right, my child? Have you some such hope?"

Kneeling down beside her, when my tears suffered me to speak, I told her all that had passed between me and Percy, and that, although not yet actually engaged, we should be when he came down, if papa and she approved of him; and I explained to her the reason why I had not at once told them about it was, that I wished them to see him with unbiased eyes first of all, and to like him for his own sake, before they did for mine. Mamma asked me several questions about Percy's dispositions and habits, which I answered as minutely and fairly as I could; when I had done she said:

"I think from what you say, my darling, he will make you very happy, and I shall be able to trust you to him. I shall look forward to seeing him. I am very glad you have told me, my child; I shall have pleasant thoughts of the future now, in addition to all my happy memories of the past."

From this time mamma grew fonder than ever of having me with her, and would watch me as she watched papa. She liked me best to sit on a low stool beside her, so close that without exertion she could softly stroke my hair, and let her poor thin hand rest on my head. I did not go out anywhere, except over to Sturry. There I went as often as I could; for I liked Sophy, and loved Mr. Harmer, as indeed I had good reason to do. About him papa was very uneasy; he had had a rather severe stroke of paralysis when I was away in London, and, although he had greatly recovered from it, he still felt its effects, and papa said that he must be kept very quiet, for that any excitement might bring on another and fatal attack.

The first time I went over to see Mr. Harmer, I was quite shocked at the change which had taken place since I had last seen him, little more than two months before. He rose to meet me when I went into the library where he was sitting, with quite his old smile of welcome, and I did not so much notice the change till he was fairly on his feet. Then indeed I saw how great it was. His old free, erect bearing was gone, and he stood upright with difficulty, and when he tried to walk, it was in a stiff and jointless sort of way, very painful to see. But the greatest alteration was in his voice; formerly he spoke in such a frank, hearty, joyous way, and now each word seemed to come out slowly and with difficulty. Although papa had warned me that I should see a great change in him, I had no idea of such a terrible alteration as this, and it was so great a shock to me, that I could not help breaking down and crying.

"You must not do that," Mr. Harmer said, placing me in a chair at one side of him, while Sophy, who had gone in with me, sat on the other, and he took my hand in his own, and held it there the whole time I was with him. "You must not cry, Agnes; I am getting an old man, and could not, in the ordinary course of nature, have expected to have lived many years more. I have led a very happy life, and have innumerable blessings to be thankful for; not the least, although that may seem selfish on my part, that there are some who care for me in my age, and who will be sorry when I am taken away. There, my dear, dry your eyes, and give me a full description of all your gaieties in London."

I told him all about what I had been doing, where I had gone, and everything I could think of likely to amuse him, and was still in the middle of my story when Miss Harmer came in.

"I am very sorry to have to disturb you Miss Ashleigh," she said, after shaking hands with me, "for I know how much my brother enjoys a talk with you; but your papa's orders were so very strict, that on no account should he be allowed to talk for long at a time, that I really must put a stop to your conversation."

I had not seen Miss Harmer for some time, for she and her sister had been away on the Continent for two years previously, and had returned only on receipt of the news of their brother's illness.

When Miss Harmer spoke, I got up at once to leave, feeling a little ashamed of my own thoughtlessness, for papa had particularly warned me before I started, not to talk long; but I had quite forgotten his injunction, in the pleasure Mr. Harmer had evidently felt in listening to me.

"You see, my dear," he said, "I must do as I am told now; but you will come again soon to see me, will you not?"

I promised to come as soon as I could, and from that time whenever mamma could spare me, I went over for half an hour's chat with Mr. Harmer, very often at first, but as he got better, and mamma became weaker, of course my visits became very much less frequent.

During my visits at this time, I was a good deal puzzled about Sophy. There was something in her manner, which I could not at all understand. She was evidently extremely attached to her grandfather, and was unwearied in her constant attention to him; and yet at times it appeared to me that her thoughts were far off from what was passing before her, and that after one of these fits of abstraction she would rouse herself with almost a start, and then glance furtively at Mr. Harmer, as if afraid that he had noticed it. When he praised her too, which he often did to me, for her care and kindness to him, I fancied that she almost shrank from his praise in a sort of pained way, as if she felt that his commendation was undeserved. I daresay at any other time I might have thought a great deal about this; but as it was I had so much to occupy me. What with my mother's almost daily increasing weakness; what with the rapidly approaching visit of Ada and Percy; what with my own grief and my own happiness, I had no thoughts to give to Sophy. Perhaps on my walk home from Sturry, I wondered and puzzled as to her conduct; but once past my own doors, all thought of her and her mysterious ways, were laid aside till I started for my next visit to Harmer Place.