'I scarcely expected this pleasure to-night. These rural festivities are often protracted.'
'O sir, I was heartily glad to escape and to get the children away. The people were becoming so rude and riotous that I was frightened. I never would have gone, had I known what it would be like, but at home the people are fond of asking us to their harvest feasts, and they always behave well whilst we are there.'
'No doubt they hold your father in respect.'
'Yes,' said Aurelia, unwilling to tell him how much alarmed and offended she had been, though quite unintentionally. Dame Wheatfield only intended hospitality; but in her eyes 'Miss' was merely a poor governess, and that to the little Waylands-mere interlopers in the eyes of the Belamour tenantry. So the good woman had no idea that the rough gallantry of the young farmer guests was inappropriate, viewing it as the natural tribute to her guest's beauty, and mistaking genuine offence for mere coyness, until, finding it was real earnest, considerable affront was taken at 'young madam's fine airs, and she only a poor kinswoman of my Lady's!' Quite as ill was it received that the young lady had remonstrated against the indigestible cakes and strange beverages administered to all her charges, and above all to Amoret. She had made her escape on the plea of early hours for the children, leaving Molly behind her, just as the boisterous song was beginning in which Jack kisses Bet, Joe kisses Sue, Tom kisses Nan, down to poor Dorothy Draggletail, who is left in the lurch. The farewell had been huffy. 'A good evening to you, madam; I am sorry our entertainment was not more to your taste.' She had felt guilty and miserable at the accusation of pride, and she could not imagine how Mrs. Aylward could have let her go without a warning; the truth being that Mrs. Aylward despised her taste, but thought she knew what a harvest supper was like.
All this was passed over in silence by Aurelia's pride and delicacy. She only described the scene when the last waggon came in with its load, the horses decked with flowers and ribbons, and the farmer's youngest girl enthroned on the top of the shocks, upholding the harvest doll. This was a little sheaf, curiously constructed and bound with straw plaits and ribbons. The farmer, on the arrival in the yard, stood on the horse-block, and held it high over the heads of all the harvesters, and the chorus was raised:
'A knack, a knack, a knack,
Well cut, well bound,
Well shocked, well saved from the ground,
Whoop! whoop! whoop!'
After which the harvest doll displaced her last year's predecessor over the hearth, where she was to hang till next year.
All this Aurelia described, comparing the customs with those of her own county, her heart beating all the time under the doubt how to venture on describing the fulfilment of her commission. At last Mr. Belamour said,
'In such a scene of gaiety, no doubt the recollection of sorrow had no place.'
'O sir, you could not think I should forget.'
'I thought I might have asked more than was possible to you.'
'It was the only part of the day that I enjoyed. I took little Fay with me, for no one seemed to care for her, while Amy was queening it with all the Wheatfields, and Letty was equally happy with her foster mother. I could see the church spire, so I needed not to ask the way, and we crossed the stubble fields, while the sun sent a beautiful slanting light through the tall elm trees that closed in the churchyard, but let one window glitter between them like a great diamond. It looked so peaceful after all the noise we left behind, even little Fay felt it, and said she loved the quiet walk along the green baulks [An unplowed strip of land-D.L.]. The churchyard has a wooden rail with steps to cross it on either side, and close under the church wall is a tomb, a great square simple block, surmounted by an urn.'
'Yes, let me hear,' said the voice, eager, though stifled.
'I thought it might be what you wished me to see and went up to read the names.'
'Do not spare. Never fear. Let me hear the very words.'
'On one face of the block there was a name-
'WILLIAM SEDHURST,
DIED MAY 13, 1729.'
On the other side was this inscription:-
'MARY,
ONLY DAUGHTER OF GEORGE SEDHURST, ESQUIRE,
DIED AUGUST 1st, 1729.
Sorrow not as others that have no Hope.'
In smaller letters down below, 'This epitaph is at her own special request.'
'Sir,' continued Aurelia, 'it was very curious. I should not have observed those words if it had not been that a large beautiful butterfly, with rainbow eyes on its wings, sat sunning itself on the white marble, and Fay called me to look at it.'
'Her message! May I ask you to repeat it again?'
'The texts? 'Love is strong as death. Sorrow not as others that have no hope.''
'Did you call them Scripture texts?'
'Yes, sir; I know the last is in one of the Epistles, and I will look for the other.'
'It matters not. She intended them for a message to me who lay in utter darkness and imbecility well befitting her destroyer.'
'Nay, they have come to you at last,' said Aurelia gently. 'You really never knew of them before?'
'No, I durst not ask, nor did any one dare to speak to me. My brother, who alone would have done so, died, I scarcely know when; but ere the very consciousness of my own wretched existence had come back to me. Once again repeat the words, gentle messenger of mercy.'
She obeyed, but this time he mournfully murmured, 'Hope! What hope for their destroyer?'
'They are God's words, as well as hers,' the girl answered, with diffident earnestness, but in reply she only heard tightened breaths, which made her say, 'You cannot bear more, sir. Let me call Jumbo, and bid you good night.'
Jumbo came at the mention of his name. Somehow he was so unlike other human beings, and so wholly devoted to his master, that it never seemed to be a greater shock to find that he had been present than if he had been a faithful dog.
A few days later he told Aurelia that Mas'r was not well enough to see her. He had set forth as soon as the moon had set, and walked with his trusty servant to Sedhurst, where he had traced with his finger the whole inscription, lingering so long that the sun was above the horizon before he could get home; and he was still lying on the bed where he had thrown himself on first coming in, having neither spoken nor eaten since. Jumbo could not but grumble out that Mas'r was better left to himself.
Yet when Aurelia on the third evening was recalled, there was a ring of refreshment in the voice. It was still melancholy, but the dejection was lessened, and though it was only of Achilles and Patroclus that they talked, she was convinced that the pressure of the heavy burthen of grief and remorse was in some degree lightened.
CHAPTER XII. THE SHAFTS OF PHOEBE.
Her golden bow she bends,
Her deadly arrows sending forth.
On coming in from a walk, Aurelia was surprised by the tidings that Mistress Phoebe Treforth had come to call on her, and had left a billet. The said billet was secured with floss silk sealed down in the antiquated fashion, and was written on full-sized quarto paper. These were the contents:-
'Madam,
'My Sister and Myself are desirous of the Honour of your
Acquaintance, and shall be happy if you will do use the
Pleasure of coming to partake of Dinner at Three o'Clock
on Tuesday, the 13th instant.
