The Old Helmet Volume I Part 18

"Darling, I do not wish you to honour any one so far as that woman reports you to have done."

"That!" said Eleanor. "That was the merest act of common kindness--Julia wanted some one to go with her to take some things to a sick man; and I wanted a walk, and I went."

"You were too kind. I must unlearn you a little of your kindness. You are mine, now, darling; and I want all of you for myself."

"But the better I am," said Eleanor, "I am sure the more there is to have."

"Be good for _me_," said he kissing her,--"and in my way. I will dispense with other goodness. I am in no danger of not having enough in you."

Eleanor walked back to the house, feeling as if an additional barrier were somehow placed between her and the light her mind wanted and the relief her heart sought after.

CHAPTER VI.

AT THE PRIORY.

"Here he lives in state and bounty, Lord of Burleigh, fair and free; Not a lord in all the county Is so great a lord as he."

Lady Rythdale abhorred dinner-parties, in general and in particular.

She dined early herself, and begged that the family from Ivy Lodge would come to tea. It was the first occasion of the kind; and the first time they had ever been there otherwise than as strangers visiting the grounds. Lady Rythdale was infirm and unwell, and never saw her country neighbours or interchanged civilities with them. Of course this was laid to something more than infirmity, by the surrounding gentry who were less in consequence than herself; but however it were, few of them ever saw the inside of the Priory House for anything but a ceremonious morning visit. Now the family at the Lodge were to go on a different footing. It was a great time, of curiosity, pleasure, and pride.

"What are you going to wear this evening, Eleanor?" her mother asked.

"I suppose, my habit, mamma."

"Your habit!"

"I cannot very well ride in anything else."

"Are you going to _ride?_"

"So it is arranged, ma'am. It will be infinitely less tiresome than going in any other way."

"Tiresome!" echoed Mrs. Powle. "But what will Lady Rythdale say to you in a riding-habit."

"Mamma, I have very little notion what she would say to me in anything."

"I will tell you what you must do, Eleanor. You must change your dress after you get there."

"No, mamma--I cannot. Mr. Carlisle has arranged to have me go in a riding-habit. It is his responsibility. I will not have any fuss of changing, nor pay anybody so much of a compliment."

"It will not be liked, Eleanor."

"It will follow my fate, mamma, whatever that is."

"You are a wilful girl. You are fallen into just the right hands. You will be managed now, for once."

"Mamma," said Eleanor colouring all over, "it is extremely unwise in you to say that; for it rouses all the fight there is in me; and some day--"

"Some day it will not break out," said Mrs. Powle.

"Well, I should not like to fight with Mr. Carlisle," said Julia. "I am glad I am going, at any rate."

Eleanor bit her lip. Nevertheless, when the afternoon came and Mr.

Carlisle appeared to summon her, nothing was left of the morning's irritation but a little loftiness of head and brow. It was very becoming, no more; and Mr. Carlisle's evident pleasure and satisfaction soon soothed the feeling away. The party in the carriage had gone on before; the riders followed the same route, pa.s.sing through the village of Wiglands, then a couple of miles or more beyond through the village of Rythdale. Further on, crossing a bridge they entered upon the old priory grounds; the grey tower rose before them, and the horses' feet swept through the beautiful wilderness of ruined art and flouris.h.i.+ng nature. As the cavalcade wound along--for the carriage was just before them now--through the dale and past the ruins, and as it had gone in state through the village, Eleanor could not help a little throbbing of heart at the sense of the place she was holding and about to hold; at the feeling of the relation all these beauties and dignities now held to her. If she had been inclined to forget it, her companion's look would have reminded her. She had no leisure to a.n.a.lyze her thoughts, but these stirred her pulses. It was beautiful, as the horses wound through the dale and by the little river Ryth, where all the ground was kept like a garden. It was beautiful, as they left the valley and went up a slow, gentle, ascending road, through thick trees, to the higher land where the new Priory stood. It stood on the brow of the height, looking down over the valley and over the further plain where the village nestled among its trees. Yes, and it was fine when the first sight of the house opened upon her, not coming now as a stranger, but as future mistress; for whom every window and gable and chimney had the mysterious interest of a future home. Would old Lady Rythdale like to see her there? Eleanor did not know; but felt easy in the a.s.surance that Mr. Carlisle, who could manage everything, could manage that also.

It was his affair.

The house shewed well as they drew towards it, among fine old trees. It was a new house; that is, it did not date further back than three generations. Like everything else about the whole domain, it gave the idea of perfect order and management. It was a s.p.a.cious building, spreading out amply upon the ground, not rising to a great height; and built in a simple style of no particular name or pretensions; but ma.s.sive, stately, and elegant. No unfinished or half realized idea; what had been attempted had been done, and done well. The house was built on three sides of a quadrangle. The side of approach by which the cavalcade had come, winding up from the valley, led them round past the front of the left wing. Mr. Carlisle made her draw bridle and fall a little behind the carriage.

"Do you like this view?" said he.

"Very much. I have never seen it before."

He smiled at her, and again extending his hand drew Black Maggie's rein till he brought her to a slow walk. The carriage pa.s.sed on out of sight. Eleanor would have remonstrated, but the view before her was lovely. Three gables, of unequal height, rose over that facade; the only ornamental part was in their fanciful but not elaborate mouldings.

The lower story, stretching along the spread of a smooth little lawn, was almost masked with ivy. It embedded the large but perfectly plain windows, which reached so near the ground that one might step out from them; their clear amplitude was set in a frame of ma.s.sive green. One angle especially looked as if the room within must be a nest of verdurous beauty. The ivy encased all the doorways or entrances on that side of the house; and climbing higher threatened to do for the story above what it had accomplished below; but perhaps some order had been taken about that, for in the main its course had been stayed at a certain stone moulding that separated the stories, and only a branch here and there had been permitted to shew what more it would like to do. One of the upper windows was partly encased; while its lace curtains gave an a.s.surance that all its garnis.h.i.+ng had not been left to nature. Eleanor could not help thinking it was a very lovely looking place for any woman to be placed in as her home; and her heart beat a little high.

"Do you not like it?" said Mr. Carlisle.

"Yes,--certainly!"

"What are you considering so attentively in Black Maggie's ears?"

Eleanor caused Maggie to p.r.i.c.k up the said ears, by a smart touch of her whip. The horses started forward to overtake the carriage. Perhaps however Mr. Carlisle was fascinated--he might well be--by the present view he had of his charge; there was a blus.h.i.+ng shy grace observable about her which it was pretty to see and not common; and maybe he wanted the view to be prolonged. He certainly did not follow the nearest road, but turned off instead to a path which went winding up and down the hill and through plantations of wood, giving Eleanor views also, of a different sort; and so did not come out upon the front of the house till long after the carriage party had been safely housed.

Eleanor found she was alone and was not to be sheltered under her mother's wing or any other; and her conductor's face was much too satisfied to invite comments. He swung her down from the saddle, allowed her to remove her cap, and putting her hand on his arm walked her into the drawing-room and the presence of his mother.

Eleanor had seen Lady Rythdale once before, in a stately visit which had been made at the Lodge; never except that one time. The old baroness was a dignified looking person, and gave her a stately reception now; rather stiff and cold, Eleanor thought; or careless and cold, rather.

"My dear," said the old lady, "have you come in a riding-habit? That will be very uncomfortable. Go to my dressing-room, and let Arles change it for something else. She can fit you. Macintosh, you shew her the way."

No questions were asked. Mr. Carlisle obeyed, putting Eleanor's hand on his arm again, and walked her off out of the room and through a gallery and up the stairs, and along another gallery. He walked fast. Eleanor felt exceedingly abashed and displeased and discomfited at this extraordinary proceeding, but she did not know how to resist it. Her compliance was taken for granted, and Mr. Carlisle was laughing at her discomfiture, which was easy enough to be seen. Eleanor's cheeks were glowing magnificently. "I suppose he feels he has me in his own dominions now,"--she thought; and the thought made her very rebellious.

Lady Rythdale too!

"Mr. Carlisle," she began, "there is really no occasion for all this. I am perfectly comfortable. I do not wish to alter my dress."

"What do you call me?" said he stopping short.

"Mr. Carlisle."

"Call me something else."

The steady bright hazel eyes which were looking at her a.s.serted their power. In spite of her irritation and vexation she obeyed his wish, and asked him somewhat loftily, to take her back again to the company.

"Against my mother's commands? Do you not think they are binding on you, Eleanor?"