The Essential George Meredith Collection. George Meredith
to the girl he could not escape from. As when the wriggling eel that has been prodded by the countryman's fork, finds that no amount of wriggling will release it, to it twists in a knot around the imprisoning prong. This simile says more than I mean it to say, but those who understand similes will know the measure due to them.
There sat Emilia on her horse. "Has Gambier been giving her lessons?" thought Wilfrid. She sat up, well-balanced; and, as he approached, began to lean gently forward to him. A greeting 'equal to any lady's,' there was no doubt. This was the point Emilia had to attain, in his severe contemplation. A born lady, on her assured level, stood a chance of becoming a Goddess; but ladyship was Emilia's highest mark. Such is the state of things to the sentimental fancy when girls are at a disadvantage. She smiled, and held out both hands. He gave her one, nodding kindly, but was too confused to be the light-hearted cavalier. Lady Charlotte walked up to her horse's side, after receiving Captain Gambier's salute, and said: "Come, catch hold of my hands and jump."
"No," replied Emilia; "I only came to see him."
"But you will see him, and me in the bargain, if you stay."
"I fancy she has given her word to return early," interposed Wilfrid.
"Then we'll ride back with her," said Lady Charlotte. "Give me five minutes. I'll order a horse out for you."
She smiled, and considerately removed the captain, by despatching him to the stables.
A quivering dimple of tenderness hung for a moment in Emilia's cheeks, as she looked upon Wilfrid. Then she said falteringly, "I think they wish to be as we do."
"Alone?" cried Wilfrid.
"Yes; that is why I brought him over. He will come anywhere with me."
"You must be mistaken."
"No; I know it."
"Did he tell you so?"
"No; Mr. Powys did."
"Told you that Lady Charlotte--"
"Yes. Not, is; but, was. And he used that word...there is no word like it,...he said 'her lover'--Oh! mine!" Emilia lifted her arms. Her voice from its deepest fall had risen to a cry.
Wilfrid caught her as she slipped from her saddle. His heart was in a tumult; stirred both ways: stirred with wrath and with love. He clasped her tightly.
"Am I?--am I?" he breathed.
"My lover!" Emilia murmured.
He was her slave again.
For, here was something absolutely his own. His own from the roots; from the first growth of sensation. Something with the bloom on it: to which no other finger could point and say: "There is my mark."
(And, ladies, if you will consent to be likened to a fruit, you must bear with these observations, and really deserve the stigma. If you will smile on men, because they adore you as vegetable products, take what ensues.)
Lady Charlotte did no more than double the time she had asked for. The party were soon at a quiet canter up the lanes; but entering a broad furzy common with bramble-plots and oak-shaws, the Amazon flew ahead. Emilia's eyes were so taken with her, that she failed to observe a tiny red-flowing runlet in the clay, with yellow-ridged banks almost baked to brick. Over it she was borne, but at the expense of a shaking that caused her to rely on her hold of the reins, ignorant of the notions of a horse outstripped. Wilfrid looked to see that the jump had been accomplished, and was satisfied. Gambier was pressing his hack to keep a respectable second.
Lady Charlotte spun round suddenly, crying, "Catch the mare!" and galloped back to Emilia, who was deposited on a bush of bramble. Dismounting promptly, the lady said: "My child, you're not hurt?"
"Not a bit." Emilia blinked.
"Not frightened?"
"Not a bit," was half whispered.
"That's brave. Now jump on your feet. Tell me why you rode over to us this morning. Quick. Don't hesitate."
"Because I want Wilfrid to see his sister Cornelia," came the answer, with the required absence of indecision.
Emilia ran straightway to meet Wilfrid approaching; and as both her hands, according to her fashion, were stretched out to him to assure him of her safety and take his clasp, forgetful of the instincts derived from riding-habits, her feet became entangled; she trod herself down, falling plump forward and looking foolish--perhaps for the first time in her life plainly feeling so.
"Up! little woman," said Lady Charlotte, supporting her elbow.
"Now, Sir Wilfrid, we part here; and don't spoil her courage, now she has had a spill, by any 'assiduous attentions' and precautions. She's sure to take as many as are needed. If Captain Gambler thinks I require an escort, he may offer."
The captain, taken by surprise, bowed, and flowed in ardent commonplace. Wilfrid did not look of a wholesome colour.
"Do you return?" he stammered; not without a certain aspect of righteous reproach.
"Yes. You will ride over to us again, probably, in a day or two? Captain Gambler will see me safe from the savage admirers that crowd this country, if I interpreted him rightly."
Emilia was lifted to her seat. Lady Charlotte sprang unassisted to hers. "Ta-ta!" she waved her fingers from her lips. The pairs then separated; one couple turning into green lanes, the other dipping to blue hills.
CHAPTER XIX
Gossip of course was excited on the subject of the choice of a partner made by the member for the county. Cornelia placed her sisters in one of their most pleasing of difficulties. She had not as yet pledged her word. It was supposed that she considered it due to herself to withhold her word for a term. The rumour in the family was, that Sir Twickenham appreciated her hesitation, and desired that he might be intimately known before he was finally accepted. When the Tinleys called, they heard that Cornelia's acceptance of the baronet was doubtful. The Copleys, on the other hand, distinctly understood that she had decided in his favour. Owing to the amiable dissension between the Copleys and the Tinleys, each party called again; giving the ladies of Brookfield further opportunity for studying one of the levels from which they had risen. Arabella did almost all the fencing with Laura Tinley, contemptuously as a youth of station returned from college will turn and foil an ill-conditioned villager, whom formerly he has encountered on the green.
"Had they often met, previous to the...the proposal?" inquired Laura; and laughed: "I was going to say 'popping.'"
"Pray do not check yourself, if a phrase appears to suit you," returned Arabella.
"But it was in the neighbourhood, was it not?"
"They have met in the neighbourhood."
"At Richford?"
"Also at Richford."
"We thought it was sudden, dear; that's all."
"Why should it not be?"
"Perhaps the best things are, it is true."
"You congratulate us upon a benefit?"
"He is to be congratulated seriously. Naturally. When she decides, let me know early, I do entreat you, because...well, I am of a different opinion from some people, who talk of another attachment, or engagement, and I do not believe in it, and have said so."
Rising to depart, Laura Tinley resumed: "Most singular! You are aware, of course, that poor creature, our organist--I ought to say yours--who looked (it was Mr. Sumner I heard say it--such a good thing!)" as if he had been a gentleman in another world, and was the ghost of one in this:" really one of the cleverest things! but he is clever!--Barrett's