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A Life's Eclipse, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 22 |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. Another six months had passed, and it was spring again, with its bright promises of renewing life and sunshine, when, one evening, Mrs Ellis sat holding her child's hand, the tears stealing slowly down her cheeks as she talked in a low voice, stifling a sob from time to time, and in every way showing how bad an ambassadress she was, and how thoroughly her sympathies were with her child. "Did father tell you to say this, mother?" said Mary wearily. "Yes, my darling. He says he is getting older, and that it is the one wish of his heart to see you happy." "But he would not see me happy, mother, if I said Yes," replied Mary. "I cannot, indeed, I cannot love Daniel Barnett. I could never make him a good wife. Why will he persecute me so?" "Because he loves you, dear; and don't, pray don't be hasty! You don't know: the love may come, dear." "Yes, mother; the love may come, but will it?" "See how good and patient he has been; and father says it is his sole care to see you settled, and to know that if anything happens to him you have a strong right hand to protect you. Come, darling, let me go down and tell them both that you have thought better of it, and that you consent." "Mother, you do not wish it," said Mary gently. "All this does not come from the heart." "I think it does, my darling," said Mrs Ellis. "You see, it is my duty to do what your father wishes. Yours to love and obey him." "No, mother dear," said Mary gently. "Your voice contradicts it all. This does not come from your heart. You do not wish to see me Daniel Barnett's wife." Mrs Ellis's face went down on her child's breast, and she let her tears have their course for a few minutes, but raised her head again with a sigh. "I oughtn't to have done that," she said hurriedly. "Mary, my darling, your father desires it, and it is, indeed it is, your duty to try and meet his wishes. What am I to go down and say?" "Go and tell him that I cannot forget the past, mother, and tell Mr Barnett to wait. In a few months I will try to think, as you all wish me, if--if I live." "Oh, my darling, my darling," sobbed the mother. "Don't cry, dear," said Mary calmly. "I can't help feeling like that sometimes, it is when I think that he must be dead, and then hope comes, and--mother," she whispered, "do you believe in dreams?" "My darling, no," said Mrs Ellis, "only that they are the result of thinking too much during the day of some particular thing. But I must go down to them now, dear. Father will be so impatient. He was angry last time Daniel came here, because you would keep up-stairs." "Daniel!" said Mary sadly. "Mother, are you beginning to side against me too?" Mary Ellis had hardly asked these words when the sound of voices below made her spring to her feet, run to the door, and stand there listening. "Mary, my child, what is it?" cried Mrs Ellis. For answer Mary ran down into the little parlour. "John!" she cried wildly, and the next moment she was clinging to John Grange's neck, while he stood there with one arm about her, holding her tightly to him, and proudly facing her father and Barnett, who stood scowling and trying hard to speak. _ |
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