0h,said Elfride,her heart sinking within her.Can it be from that man--a lecture for impertinence?And actually one for Mrs.
Swancourt in the same hand-writing!She feared to open hers.
Yet how can he know my name?No;it is somebody else.
Nonsense!said her father grimly.You sent your initials,and the Directory was available.Though he wouldnt have taken the trouble to look there unless he had been thoroughly savage with you.I thought you wrote with rather more asperity than simple literary discussion required.This timely clause was introduced to save the character of the vicars judgment under any issue of affairs.
Well,here I go,said Elfride,desperately tearing open the seal.
To be sure,of course,exclaimed Mrs.Swancourt;and looking up from her own letter.Christopher,I quite forgot to tell you,when I mentioned that I had seen my distant relative,Harry Knight,that I invited him here for whatever length of time he could spare.And now he says he can come any day in August.
Write,and say the first of the month,replied the indiscriminate vicar.
She read om Goodness me--and that isnt all.He is actually the reviewer of Elfrides book.How absurd,to be sure!I had no idea he reviewed novels or had anything to do with the PRESENT.He is a barrister--and I thought he only wrote in the Quarterlies.Why,Elfride,you have brought about an odd entanglement!What does he say to you?
Elfride had put down her letter with a dissatisfied flush on her face.I dont know.The idea of his knowing my name and all about me!.Why,he says nothing particular,only this--
"MY DEAR MADAM,--Though I am sorry that my remarks should have seemed harsh to you,it is a pleasure to find that they have been the means of bringing forth such an ingeniously argued reply.
Unfortunately,it is so long since I wrote my review,that my memory does not serve me sufficiently to say a single word in my defence,even supposing there remains one to be said,which is doubtful.You,will find from a letter I have written to Mrs.
Swancourt,that we are not such strangers to each other as we have been imagining.Possibly,I may have the pleasure of seeing you soon,when any argument you choose to advance shall receive all the attention it deserves."
That is dim sarcasm--I know it is.
Oh no,Elfride.
And then,his remarks didnt seem harsh--I mean I did not say so.
He thinks you are in a frightful temper,said Mr.Swancourt,chuckling in undertones.
And he will come and see me,and find the authoress as contemptible in speech as she has been impertinent in manner.I do heartily wish I had never written a word to him!
Never mind,said Mrs.Swancourt,also laughing in low quiet jerks;it will make the meeting such a comical affair,and afford splendid by-play for your father and myself.The idea of our running our heads against Harry Knight all the time!I cannot get over that.
The vicar had immediately remembered the name to be that of Stephen Smiths preceptor and friend;but having ceased to concern himself in the matter he made no remark to that effect,consistently forbearing to allude to anything which could restore recollection of the (to him)disagreeable mistake with regard to poor Stephens lineage and position.Elfride had of course perceived the same thing,which added to the complication of relationship a mesh that her stepmother knew nothing of.
The identification scarcely heightened Knights attractions now,though a twelvemonth ago she would only have cared to see him for the interest he possessed as Stephens friend.Fortunately for Knights advent,such a reason for welcome had only begun to be awkward to her at a time when the interest he had acquired on his own account made it no longer necessary.
These coincidences,in common with all relating to him,tended to keep Elfrides mind upon the stretch concerning Knight.As was her custom when upon the horns of a dilemma,she walked off by herself among the laurel bushes,and there,standing still and splitting up a leaf without removing it from its stalk,fetched back recollections of Stephens frequent words in praise of his friend,and wished she had listened more attentively.Then,still pulling the leaf,she would blush at some fancied mortification that would accrue to her from his words when they met,in consequence of her intrusiveness,as she now considered it,in writing to him.
The next development of her meditations was the subject of what this mans personal appearance might be--was he tall or short,dark or fair,gay or grim?She would have asked Mrs.Swancourt but for the risk she might thereby incur of some teasing remark being returned.Ultimately Elfride would say,Oh,what a plague that reviewer is to me!and turn her face to where she imagined India lay,and murmur to herself,Ah,my little husband,what are you doing now?Let me see,where are you--south,east,where?Behind that hill,ever so far behind!
