You must suppose about three weeks
passed over. Mrs. Graham and I were now established
friends — or brother and sister, as we rather
chose to consider ourselves. She called me Gilbert,
by my express desire, and I called her Helen, for
I had seen that name written in her books. I
seldom attempted to see her above twice a week; and
still I made our meetings appear the result of accident
as often as I could — for I found it necessary
to be extremely careful — and, altogether, I
behaved with such exceeding propriety that she never
had occasion to reprove me once. Yet I could
not but perceive that she was at times unhappy and
dissatisfied with herself or her position, and truly
I myself was not quite contented with the latter:
this assumption of brotherly nonchalance was very
hard to sustain, and I often felt myself a most confounded
hypocrite with it all; I saw too, or rather I felt,
that, in spite of herself, ’I was not indifferent
to her,’ as the novel heroes modestly express
it, and while I thankfully enjoyed my present good
fortune, I could not fail to wish and hope for something
better in future; but, of course, I kept such dreams
entirely to myself.
‘Where are you going, Gilbert?’
said Rose, one evening, shortly after tea, when I
had been busy with the farm all day.
‘To take a walk,’ was the reply.
’Do you always brush your hat
so carefully, and do your hair so nicely, and put
on such smart new gloves when you take a walk?’
‘Not always.’
‘You’re going to Wildfell Hall, aren’t
you?’
‘What makes you think so?’
’Because you look as if you
were — but I wish you wouldn’t go so often.’
’Nonsense, child! I don’t
go once in six weeks — what do you mean?’
’Well, but if I were you, I
wouldn’t have so much to do with Mrs. Graham.’
‘Why, Rose, are you, too, giving
in to the prevailing opinion?’
‘No,’ returned she, hesitatingly
— ’but I’ve heard so much about
her lately, both at the Wilsons’ and the vicarage;
— and besides, mamma says, if she were a proper
person she would not be living there by herself —
and don’t you remember last winter, Gilbert,
all that about the false name to the picture; and
how she explained it – saying she had friends or acquaintances
from whom she wished her present residence to be concealed,
and that she was afraid of their tracing her out;
— and then, how suddenly she started up and left
the room when that person came — whom she took
good care not to let us catch a glimpse of, and who
Arthur, with such an air of mystery, told us was his
mamma’s friend?’
’Yes, Rose, I remember it all;
and I can forgive your uncharitable conclusions; for,
perhaps, if I did not know her myself, I should put
all these things together, and believe the same as
you do; but thank God, I do know her; and I should
be unworthy the name of a man, if I could believe
anything that was said against her, unless I heard
it from her own lips. — I should as soon believe
such things of you, Rose.’
‘Oh, Gilbert!’
’Well, do you think I could
believe anything of the kind, — whatever the
Wilsons and Millwards dared to whisper?’
‘I should hope not indeed!’
’And why not? — Because
I know you — Well, and I know her just as well.’
’Oh, no! you know nothing of
her former life; and last year, at this time, you
did not know that such a person existed.’
’No matter. There is such
a thing as looking through a person’s eyes into
the heart, and learning more of the height, and breadth,
and depth of another’s soul in one hour than
it might take you a lifetime to discover, if he or
she were not disposed to reveal it, or if you had
not the sense to understand it.’
‘Then you are going to see her this evening?’
‘To be sure I am!’
‘But what would mamma say, Gilbert!’
‘Mamma needn’t know.’
‘But she must know some time, if you go on.’
’Go on! — there’s
no going on in the matter. Mrs. Graham and I
are two friends — and will be; and no man breathing
shall hinder it, — or has a right to interfere
between us.’
’But if you knew how they talk
you would be more careful, for her sake as well as
for your own. Jane Wilson thinks your visits
to the old hall but another proof of her depravity
— ’
‘Confound Jane Wilson!’
‘And Eliza Millward is quite grieved about you.’
‘I hope she is.’
‘But I wouldn’t, if I were you.’
‘Wouldn’t what? — How do they know
that I go there?’
‘There’s nothing hid from them:
they spy out everything.’
’Oh, I never thought of this!
— And so they dare to turn my friendship into
food for further scandal against her! — That
proves the falsehood of their other lies, at all events,
if any proof were wanting. — Mind you contradict
them, Rose, whenever you can.’
’But they don’t speak
openly to me about such things: it is only by
hints and innuendoes, and by what I hear others say,
that I knew what they think.’
’Well, then, I won’t go
to-day, as it’s getting latish. But oh,
deuce take their cursed, envenomed tongues!’
I muttered, in the bitterness of my soul.
And just at that moment the vicar
entered the room: we had been too much absorbed
in our conversation to observe his knock. After
his customary cheerful and fatherly greeting of Rose,
who was rather a favourite with the old gentleman,
he turned somewhat sternly to me:-
‘Well, sir!’ said he,
’you’re quite a stranger. It is —
let — me — see,’ he continued, slowly,
as he deposited his ponderous bulk in the arm-chair
that Rose officiously brought towards him; ’it
is just — six-weeks — by my reckoning,
since you darkened — my — door!’
He spoke it with emphasis, and struck his stick on
the floor.
‘Is it, sir?’ said I.
‘Ay! It is so!’
He added an affirmatory nod, and continued to gaze
upon me with a kind of irate solemnity, holding his
substantial stick between his knees, with his hands
clasped upon its head.
‘I have been busy,’ I
said, for an apology was evidently demanded.
‘Busy!’ repeated he, derisively.
’Yes, you know I’ve been
getting in my hay; and now the harvest is beginning.’
‘Humph!’
Just then my mother came in, and created
a diversion in my favour by her loquacious and animated
welcome of the reverend guest. She regretted
deeply that he had not come a little earlier, in time
for tea, but offered to have some immediately prepared,
if he would do her the favour to partake of it.
‘Not any for me, I thank you,’
replied he; ’I shall be at home in a few minutes.’
’Oh, but do stay and take a
little! it will be ready in five minutes.’
But he rejected the offer with a majestic
wave of the hand.
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll
take, Mrs. Markham,’ said he: ’I’ll
take a glass of your excellent ale.’
‘With pleasure!’ cried
my mother, proceeding with alacrity to pull the bell
and order the favoured beverage.
‘I thought,’ continued
he, ’I’d just look in upon you as I passed,
and taste your home-brewed ale. I’ve been
to call on Mrs. Graham.’
‘Have you, indeed?’
He nodded gravely, and added with
awful emphasis — ’I thought it incumbent
upon me to do so.’
‘Really!’ ejaculated my mother.
‘Why so, Mr. Millward?’ asked I.
He looked at me with some severity,
and turning again to my mother, repeated, —
‘I thought it incumbent upon me!’ and struck
his stick on the floor again. My mother sat
opposite, an awe-struck but admiring auditor.
‘”Mrs. Graham,” said I,’
he continued, shaking his head as he spoke, ’”these
are terrible reports!” “What, sir?”
says she, affecting to be ignorant of my meaning.
“It is my — duty — as — your
pastor,” said I, “to tell you both everything
that I myself see reprehensible in your conduct, and
all I have reason to suspect, and what others tell
me concerning you.” — So I told her!’
‘You did, sir?’ cried
I, starting from my seat and striking my fist on the
table. He merely glanced towards me, and continued
— addressing his hostess:-
‘It was a painful duty, Mrs.
Markham — but I told her!’
‘And how did she take it?’ asked my mother.
‘Hardened, I fear — hardened!’
he replied, with a despondent shake of the head; ’and,
at the same time, there was a strong display of unchastened,
misdirected passions. She turned white in the
face, and drew her breath through her teeth in a savage
sort of way; — but she offered no extenuation
or defence; and with a kind of shameless calmness
— shocking indeed to witness in one so young
— as good as told me that my remonstrance was
unavailing, and my pastoral advice quite thrown away
upon her — nay, that my very presence was displeasing
while I spoke such things. And I withdrew at
length, too plainly seeing that nothing could be done
— and sadly grieved to find her case so hopeless.
But I am fully determined, Mrs. Markham, that my
daughters — shall — not — consort
with her. Do you adopt the same resolution with
regard to yours! — As for your sons —
as for you, young man,’ he continued, sternly
turning to me —
‘As for me, sir,’
I began, but checked by some impediment in my utterance,
and finding that my whole frame trembled with fury,
I said no more, but took the wiser part of snatching
up my hat and bolting from the room, slamming the
door behind me, with a bang that shook the house to
its foundations, and made my mother scream, and gave
a momentary relief to my excited feelings.
The next minute saw me hurrying with
rapid strides in the direction of Wildfell Hall —
to what intent or purpose I could scarcely tell, but
I must be moving somewhere, and no other goal would
do — I must see her too, and speak to her —
that was certain; but what to say, or how to act,
I had no definite idea. Such stormy thoughts
— so many different resolutions crowded in upon
me, that my mind was little better than a chaos of
conflicting passions.