Chapter VIII

Passive she heard, and in her labouring mind
Strove with the dark enigma, “Part! to part!”
Till having solved it by the beams that broke
From that clear soul on hers; struggling she spoke.
_King Arthur._

The autumn slipped away, the winter came, and nothing worth recording took place. The relations between Everard and Angela continued exactly in the same state as they had been before that last evening’s occurrence. No looks, no words, no empressement, meetings few, and when meetings occurred, manners calm, kind, and friendly, but distant.

One morning in December, Mr. Gresham entered the drawing-room, where Angela was engaged in reading to Miss Price, and observed that he was come for a few moments’ conversation. He then placed himself with his back to the fire, and looked at his daughter with a stare of unusual solemnity.

“Be so good as to attend to me, my love,” he began. “I have something of importance to observe.”

Angela’s heart beat with only too ready expectation, and she laid down her work and cast down her eyes.

“I believe, Angela, you have been fully aware of all the purposes and motives which induced me to make choice of Mr. Vavasour for your husband. Motives, I must observe, of singular generosity towards him, and purposes which it would be unbecoming in me too highly to exalt. Suffice it to say, that the plan was laid with as much foresight and wisdom, as the motives which impelled me were beneficent. You have been, I say, fully aware of my feelings in this matter; and once for all, my love, I must assure you, that with _your_ conduct I have no fault to find. You have behaved with dutiful submission towards myself, and with perfect modesty towards Mr. Vavasour. I thank you for it, and assure you that it has been highly gratifying to my feelings.”

He paused, and stood for a moment, the benign and grateful parent; then again assuming the character of the wise and watchful guardian, he proceeded.

“It is now nearly eighteen months since Mr. Vavasour was entitled by his position to claim my notice. He is perfectly aware of my favourable intentions towards himself. None can accuse me of want of patience in my dealings with him. I have allowed for the natural influence of decorous sorrow; I have excused the resentment he may possibly have felt in the recollection of certain circumstances. I have allowed for every feeling which the most fastidious delicacy can have suggested. But in vain. It is now my intention, therefore, to resign my long cherished designs, and to dismiss the subject from my mind.”

Angela turned first red, then pale, but she made no exclamation.

“I wish you to understand me, my love. When I say that I dismiss the subject from my mind, my wish is of course to suggest to you the course I desire you to adopt. I request that you will banish from your affections every recollection of Mr. Vavasour, and prepare your mind to receive any future impressions it may be my will to recommend to you.”

“I cannot,” Angela said faintly but firmly.

“You made an observation, my love.”

“I cannot,” she repeated.

“I do not perfectly understand you. It is not, I believe, customary with a young female of delicacy to obtrude her affections on any man. Let me suggest to you, my love, that such sentiments are highly indecorous.”

“He loved me once,” Angela said in the same low tone.

“Certainly, my love. It was the conviction of his attachment which led me so quickly to adopt him in the place of his brother; which led me to anticipate that he would joyfully accept the transfer of my intentions. But man, my love, is liable to change, and it is evident that Mr. Vavasour, however estimable may be his character, is subject to the common caprices of humanity. I must, therefore, again urge upon you the necessity of banishing the expectations I have hitherto encouraged, and of displacing his image from your mind.”

“I think he loves me still,” she said breathlessly.

“Indeed! may I enquire on what grounds this conviction is formed? Have there been any secret tokens of remembrance? gifts, notes, looks, words, delicate suggestions of attachment? Let me beg of you, my love, to be open with me.”

“None,” she replied, slowly shaking her head.

“On what then, I again enquire, is your conviction formed?”

“I feel it,” she replied. “That is all; and I think he would not let me feel it if it were false. I trust him.”

Mr. Gresham looked much perplexed. He cleared his throat, took two or three turns about the room, and then resumed his place.

“As I am anxious, my love, to banish this subject from our minds at once and for ever, I must relate to you an occurrence which took place last year, and which circumstances alone have hitherto led me to conceal. Anxious to secure your best welfare, and uncertain, whether Mr. Vavasour in his natural modesty, might fully understand the favorable change in my sentiments, I visited him about six weeks after our return hither, and made him a formal offer of your hand, not concealing from him ... giving him in short, every encouragement--I might even say more than this--which the delicacy of a parent would permit him to give. I regret to have to inform you that he entirely disclaimed any desire to ally himself with my house, and that, in terms it was impossible for me to misunderstand.”

Angela became as pale as death. Shame, horror, doubt, and despair, for a moment took possession of her heart, and expressed themselves on her speaking countenance.

“I am sorry, my love, to give you pain,” said Mr. Gresham with kindness, “but in such circumstances it is most fitting that the truth should be told. You are now possessed of all the facts of the case, and undoubtedly will readily acquiesce in my request, that the expectations which have hitherto occupied our minds should be banished. As to the future it yet remains to make such arrangements as may seem most desirable for your well-being.”

There was a short silence, and then Angela looked up at her father with a steady countenance, and said gravely, “Papa, I trust him still.”

Mr. Gresham, who had anticipated a totally different conclusion, looked what he felt, the picture of astonishment. “My love,” at last he mildly said, “allow me to remind you that romantic fancies are unbecoming in a young female of sense and delicacy. I had hoped that I had made this clear to your mind. Since I have failed, I must request you to allow me a few moments private conversation with your aunt, who will, I am convinced, join with me in endeavouring to dissuade you from a prepossession unbecoming to a modest young woman.”

“It will be in vain, Papa,” Angela replied. “I have said it, I trust him, and until he is married to another, I _will_ trust him. For what cause he withholds the expression of his feelings I cannot guess, but my conviction is unalterable. He loved me once, and I believe he loves me still. Leave me in peace, Papa,” she continued rising from her seat, “and I think you will not be disappointed.” Mr. Gresham had taken his place opposite to Miss Price, previous to his entering on his purposed private conversation with her. Angela just paused to press her lips on his brow, a very unusual mark of submission and confidence, and hastened from the room.

“Extremely singular,” observed Mr. Gresham to Miss Price. “May I ask you what opinion you have formed on this subject?”

“I have long thought,” she gently replied, “that God has made them for each other.”

“Ahem! Well, Miss Price, since such is your opinion, I bow to it, and reserving to myself the right to interfere, should any more advantageous alliance offer itself, I will consent for a few months longer to wait upon Mr. Vavasour’s pleasure. You must, however, allow me again to observe that I consider the case extremely singular.”

“No doubt,” she agreed placidly, and so ended the conference.

That afternoon, although it was a very stormy December afternoon, Mr. Gresham rode again to the top of the hill, to survey the fair scene, fair even in the raw winter’s day, and thought it fairer than ever because, seen through the hazy atmosphere, the limits of the two properties seemed to melt away into a boundless space. His chest heaved with renewed ardour as he gazed, and once again, flitting dreams, vague and uncertain ones, vanished, and left the old idol in undisputed sway.

“Upon the whole, Angela,” he observed to his daughter that evening as he kissed her, “you may be right. The case is singular, but the worth of the object makes it desirable to wait, even though the hope be an uncertain one.”

Her heart agreed, but she made no reply beyond a blush. She was not blind, she was not indifferent to the position, it might be the humiliating position in which she had placed herself; but she had in some respects a heroic spirit. She thought he had asked for trust, and she gave it with her whole heart. Moments of fluttering, of weakness, of doubt, of hopelessness, there were, there must have been, or she could not have been the wayward, changeful creature she was; but from every doubt, and every struggle, the trust arose again and again triumphant, and bore her along the months of silence and vacancy that followed.