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Read books online » Fiction » Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 1 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (inspirational novels .TXT) 📖

Book online «Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 1 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (inspirational novels .TXT) 📖». Author Mrs. Alexander



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try my chance of winning Kate Vernon? Buried in the ruins of the "Lady's Tower," as it was called, while I was utterly unable to move without assistance, and indebted to Mrs. Winter's unceasing attention for the conveyance of every spoonful of jelly that reached my lips, yet in spite of all, I was almost glad to be thus compelled to postpone for the present my intentions.

It was so delightful to feel that no exertion could be expected from me, and that I was chained within the magic circle of Kate Vernon's influence, without the possibility of Burton or any one else caviling at the cause. Yet such is the miserable vanity of our petty nature, I rather delayed seeing her, even after the doctor had declared visitors admissible. The Colonel[Pg 204] had from the first seen me almost daily, and now no morning passed, without a visit from him to tell me the news—what the troops in India were about; what the Times said of the Ministry, and of the enquiries made for me by Colonel Dashwood and my brother officers; in short, I was an occupation to him, and always welcomed his appearance with a warmth too genuine not to touch his benevolent heart.

Winter had received one or two notes of inquiry from my brother, finally a formal letter of thanks for his attention to me, and Egerton appeared to relapse into his usual forgetfulness of my existence.

My days generally passed in a sort of routine order, each person of our little society giving me a portion of their time in turn. The Colonel in the morning, when Winter was out and his wife in the subterranean regions, devoted to gastronomy; then Gilpin used to look in between the intervals of his music lessons; after this came a[Pg 205] dreary pause, before Mrs. Winter was sufficiently at liberty to take up her strangely soothing work, and Winter still in his studio.

I was unequal to the effort of perusing a book, and longed for some one to read to me, so I generally lay "chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy" from one to two o'clock, and curious enough, as my strength slowly returned, the bitter predominated; my mind seemed to gather force enough to feel the weight of responsibilities, from which the weakness it shared with its closely linked associate, the body, had freed it for a while. Is it not thus that spirits and forms of slighter make, and less comprehensive faculties manage to cast away sorrows and sicknesses that would shatter more robust and powerful frames.

Woe to him whose deep and sensitive feelings are not linked with a nature strong enough to direct and support them. And for those from whose light-hearted buoyancy, care and regret seem to glance away as if from polished armour; why should we dare to sneer at their apparent[Pg 206] frivolity? shall not nature which has furnished every living thing with its own peculiar weapon, provide the spirit with a fitting defence against the deadly foes that beset it. Maraviglia, as Winter would say, what profound reflections for a Captain of Light Dragoons!

The interval I have described was dragging its dreary length slowly over one determined wet day, dark and misty, the clouds having apparently come down to earth in a fit of hysterics; the trees in the Abbey garden visible from my sofa had a thoroughly drenched saturated look as if nothing could ever dry them; once or twice the tramp tramp of a pair of heavy hob-nailed shoes echoed through the square, and the wearer trudged by in glistening oilskin cap, a sack thrown over his shoulders, and a shivering dripping dog at his heels; but beyond this no living creature showed out of shelter. It was too much, I fancied, even for the most aquatically inclined duck. I felt the want of companionship deplorably. What could Winter mean by pretending business with[Pg 207] the Dean this morning? If he was at home I would have some one to speak to, it is too dark to paint.

There was a low knock at the door, and Mrs. O'Toole's broad pleasant face appeared, beaming on me over a tray which she carried.

"Ah, Nurse," I exclaimed, "how delighted I am to see you here—shake hands." I got quite affectionate at the idea of a pleasant chat with Mrs. O'Toole.

"Och, jewel, now be asy! don't be strivin' to sit up; sure I'll settle the pillas for ye, before y'd say thrap stick, if you'd have patience. There now, take a sup of it, I made ye a nice drop of jelly meeself; sure little Mrs. Winter's a good soul, but I don't like them English ways of puttin' lard an' suet into their paste instead of the best ov good buther; faith, ses I to meeself, may be it's glue they'll be puttin' in the jelly, so I made ye a drop; an' Mrs. Winter ses, mighty good humoured, 'Walk up, Mrs. O'Toole, in coorse nothin' plaises the Captin so much as what you[Pg 208] make.' Dear knows it's the t'underin' wet day; an' how are ye, agrah?"

I may observe en passant that Mrs. O'Toole had treated me more like a pet child than a respected "Right Honourable" since my illness, and rather ruled me with a rod of iron.

I replied to her kind enquiries, and asked for Miss Vernon.

"Is it Miss Kate? she's singin' like a lark. Ses she, 'Nurse, be sure you ask Captin Egerton when I may go see him; I'm sure,' ses she, 'he's angry with me for making him go back to help Mr. Gilpin,' ses she, 'or he'd let me go see him as well as every one else,' ses she."

"Did she though? I am most happy she made me instrumental in saving Mr. Gilpin's life, and of course I'll be too glad to see her the next time she calls on Mrs. Winter; but Nurse, don't I look confoundedly wretched?"

"Musha is it that ye'r thinkin' of? ye needn't bother ye'r head about it, honey. If ye were like ould Dan Kelly (an' he'd a broken nose an' a[Pg 209] cast in his two eyes), Miss Kate, 'ud think the sun shone in ye'r face afther ye'r goin back to help the crather of an organist, an every one else runin' away. She ses"—

"Oh! it was a natural instinct to help him."

"Faith, it 'ud come more natural to many a one to save himself. I'll never forget the night ye come home all bruised an' bloody, widout as much life in ye as 'ud stand a pooff, Gilpin houldin' yer head, Winter cursin' (God forgive him) like a throoper in Greek or Latin; the ould masther, as studdy as a rock, sending off right an' left for everything, an' Miss Kate as white as a sheet, an' thrimblin' from head to fut, not spakin' a word, an' keepin' quiet as a lamb, just not to disturb any one. Musha, but we'd the ruction!"

"I can never forget the great kindness you all showed me; I must have been a great trouble to you when I was delirious; do you remember what I raved about?"

"Oh! you was rampagin mad; it was ordtherin' the army one minit, an' followin' the hounds the[Pg 210] next, an' shoutin' murther to save Miss Kate, for whatever ye began with, it iver an' always ended with her; may be ye have a sisther called Kate."

"No, it was your Miss Kate that always seemed to me in some deadly danger, and I could not rescue her; your voice used invariably to break the spell; but did any one else hear me except you?"

"I couldn't take upon me to say, but Mr. Gilpin an' meeself was wid ye most times."

"Hum! and Miss Vernon, you did not mention my delusions to her?"

"In course I did."

"And what did she say?"

Mrs. O'Toole just thought for a moment, and then looking up in my face, said, "Is it Miss Kate? Ses she—'isn't it odd, dear Nurse, how people rave about those they never think of when sane,' ses she; sane or sinsible was the word, but I dis remember which."

Not much tenderness or recognition of my feelings there, I thought! "Tant mieux, you[Pg 211] may put away the cup, Nurse, it was so good I quite enjoyed it: and tell me, did you see Colonel Dashwood when he was over here?"

"Is it the 'Curnel? To be sure I did, he was twizte over at the Priory, an' a fine grand lookin' gentleman he is; he wanted the masther to go back with him, but, ses he, 'No, Dashwood, I'm too old for a mess table, an' I would have no pleasure widout poor Egerton, at all evints,' ses he; an' then Miss Kate ups, an' ses she, 'If you take grandpapa, 'Curnel, you must take me too, for we are—' Musha, I forget the word."

"Inseparable," I suggested.

"Somethin' like it, anyhow; and then the 'Curnel bowed mighty grand, an' ses he—'Arrah, then, it's the whole rigmint 'ull be wantin' 'Curnel Vernon, if I mintion them conditions,' ses he."

I laughed to a degree that alarmed Nurse, at the idea of our dashing thorough-bred colonel prefacing his speech with "arrah, thin."

"I'll lave ye intirely if ye be shakin' yerself[Pg 212] that way, when ye havn't the stringth in ye to laugh out."

"Oh Nurse, dear Nurse, do not go, tell me something more."

"I havn't a ha'poth more to tell ye, an its time for me to be going. The blessin' of Christ be wid ye, ye'r lookin' ten stone bether, Glory be to God."

The next day in consequence of Nurse's report, Miss Vernon came with her grandfather. I almost expected her, yet her advent made me feel strangely nervous; it seemed strange to me too, being unable to rise, that she should come over, and place her hand in mine, when I could not stir to receive her; she sat down near me and began talking in a gentle subdued tone, as if half afraid of disturbing me.

"You look much better than I expected, Captain Egerton; what a wonderful recovery! But why would you not let me come here before?"

"I was afraid my ghastly looks would frighten you."

"You look all eyes now."

[Pg 213]

In a whisper, "I am."

"I do not think you look so well to day, Egerton, you have a feverish excited air, and your voice is decidedly weaker," observed the Colonel.

"Perhaps we ought not to stay," said Miss Vernon.

"I beg you will not leave me," I gasped.

After a little more conversation a message from Mr. Winter called the Colonel out of the room, and Kate and I were t�te-�-t�te.

"Nurse gave rather a melancholy account of you yesterday," said Miss Vernon, "she said you were all alone and 'dissolute' by yourself. Have you no books?"

"I do not feel up to reading, but if I had any one to read out to me—Gilpin has not time."

"I would be delighted, I will come here and read to you and Mrs. Winter every day."

"You are most kind."

The excitement of her visit was too much for me, and I felt a faintness stealing over me.[Pg 214] Miss Vernon observing the deadly pallor of my face, with an expression of alarm, felt my pulse. "Let me call some one," she said. I feebly grasped her hand, dreading that an interview so delightful to me should be curtailed.

"It is nothing—air, air!" I articulated with much difficulty. Still leaving her hand in mine, she stretched the other to a screen, and fanned me silently for a few moments; then perceiving the returning colour, "Are you better now?" she said softly, with such an expression of tenderness in her dark eyes, I could have thrown myself at her feet.

"If you will let go my hand I will get you a little of that bottle; I see 'restorative' on it" she added, without a shade of embarrassment, evidently considering my desire to retain it some sickly fancy. I reluctantly relinquished my hold and turning to the table she gave me the medicine and then arranged my pillows in such a home-like manner.

From that interview, the sort of unsettled but[Pg 215] ardent admiration I had before entertained for her, seemed to deepen into something purer, higher, more devoted, and unselfish, than I had ever felt before. I looked forward to the possibility of calling her my wife; not with the rash eagerness to possess a new toy, or to give life a new charm, but with a deep rooted conviction that with her at my side, come weal or woe, I would have love and

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