Book: A Strange Story, Volume 1.
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Edward Bulwer Lytton >> A Strange Story, Volume 1.
"Thank you, thank you, Dr. Fenwick, for what you say. You take a load
from my heart; for Mr. Vigors, I know, thinks Lilian consumptive, and Mrs.
Poyntz has rather frightened me at times by hints to the same effect. But
when you speak of nervous susceptibility, I do not quite understand you.
My daughter is not what is commonly called nervous. Her temper is
singularly even."
"But if not excitable, should you also say that she is not
impressionable? The things which do not disturb her temper may, perhaps,
deject her spirits. Do I make myself understood?"
"Yes, I think I understand your distinction; but I am not quite sure if
it applies. To most things that affect the spirits she is not more
sensitive than other girls, perhaps less so; but she is certainly
very impressionable in some things."
"In what?"
"She is more moved than any one I ever knew by objects in external
nature, rural scenery, rural sounds, by music, by the books that she
reads,--even books that are not works of imagination. Perhaps in all this
she takes after her poor father, but in a more marked degree,--at least, I
observe it more in her; for he was very silent and reserved. And perhaps
also her peculiarities have been fostered by the seclusion in which she
has been brought up. It was with a view to make her a little more like
girls of her own age that our friend, Mrs. Poyntz, induced me to come
here. Lilian was reconciled to this change; but she shrank from the
thoughts of London, which I should have preferred. Her poor father could
not endure London."
"Miss Ashleigh is fond of reading?"
"Yes, she is fond of reading, but more fond of musing. She will sit by
herself for hours without book or work, and seem as abstracted as if in a
dream. She was so even in her earliest childhood. Then she would tell me
what she had been conjuring up to herself. She would say that she had
seen--positively seen--beautiful lands far away from earth; flowers and
trees not like ours. As she grew older this visionary talk displeased me,
and I scolded her, and said that if others heard her, they would think
that she was not only silly but very untruthful. So of late years she
never ventures to tell me what, in such dreamy moments, she suffers
herself to imagine; but the habit of musing continues still. Do you not
agree with Mrs. Poyntz that the best cure would be a little cheerful
society amongst other young people?"
"Certainly," said I, honestly, though with a jealous pang. "But here
comes the medicine. Will you take it up to her, and then sit with her
half an hour or so? By that time I expect she will be asleep. I will
wait here till you return. Oh, I can amuse myself with the newspapers and
books on your table. Stay! one caution: be sure there are no flowers in
Miss Ashleigh's sleeping-room. I think I saw a treacherous rose-tree in a
stand by the window. If so, banish it."
Left alone, I examined the room in which, oh, thought of joy! I had
surely now won the claim to become a privileged guest. I touched the
books Lilian must have touched; in the articles of furniture, as yet so
hastily disposed that the settled look of home was not about them, I
still knew that I was gazing on things which her mind must associate with
the history of her young life. That luteharp must be surely hers, and the
scarf, with a girl's favourite colours,--pure white and pale blue,--and
the bird-cage, and the childish ivory work-case, with implements too
pretty for use,--all spoke of her.
It was a blissful, intoxicating revery, which Mrs. Ashleigh's entrance
disturbed.
Lilian was sleeping calmly. I had no excuse to linger there any longer.
"I leave you, I trust, with your mind quite at ease," said I. "You will
allow me to call to-morrow, in the afternoon?"
"Oh, yes, gratefully."
Mrs. Ashleigh held out her hand as I made towards the door.
Is there a physician who has not felt at times how that ceremonious fee
throws him back from the garden-land of humanity into the market-place of
money,--seems to put him out of the pale of equal friendship, and say,
"True, you have given health and life. Adieu! there, you are paid for
it!" With a poor person there would have been no dilemma, but Mrs.
Ashleigh was affluent: to depart from custom here was almost impertinence.
But had the penalty of my refusal been the doom of never again beholding
Lilian, I could not have taken her mother's gold. So I did not appear to
notice the hand held out to me, and passed by with a quickened step.
"But, Dr. Fenwick, stop!"
"No, ma'am, no! Miss Ashleigh would have recovered as soon without me.
Whenever my aid is really wanted, then--but Heaven grant that time may
never come! We will talk again about her to-morrow."
I was gone,--now in the garden ground, odorous with blossoms; now in
the lane, inclosed by the narrow walls; now in the deserted streets, over
which the moon shone full as in that winter night when I hurried from the
chamber of death. But the streets were not ghastly now, and the moon was
no longer Hecate, that dreary goddess of awe and spectres, but the sweet,
simple Lady of the Stars, on whose gentle face lovers have gazed ever
since (if that guess of astronomers be true) she was parted from earth to
rule the tides of its deeps from afar, even as love, from love divided,
rules the heart that yearns towards it with mysterious law.
CHAPTER XI.
With what increased benignity I listened to the patients who visited me
the next morning! The whole human race seemed to be worthier of love, and
I longed to diffuse amongst all some rays of the glorious hope that had
dawned upon my heart. My first call, when I went forth, was on the poor
young woman from whom I had been returning the day before, when an
impulse, which seemed like a fate, had lured me into the grounds where I
had first seen Lilian. I felt grateful to this poor patient; without her
Lilian herself might be yet unknown to rue.
The girl's brother, a young man employed in the police, and whose pay
supported a widowed mother and the suffering sister, received me at the
threshold of the cottage.
"Oh, sir, she is so much better to-day; almost free from pain. Will
she live now; can she live?"
"If my treatment has really done the good you say; if she be really
better under it, I think her recovery may be pronounced. But I must first
see her."
The girl was indeed wonderfully better. I felt that my skill was
achieving a signal triumph; but that day even my intellectual pride was
forgotten in the luxurious unfolding of that sense of heart which had so
newly waked into blossom.
As I recrossed the threshold, I smiled on the brother, who was still
lingering there,--
"Your sister is saved, Wady. She needs now chiefly wine, and good
though light nourishment; these you will find at my house; call there for
them every day."
"God bless you, sir! If ever I can serve you--" His tongue faltered,
he could say no more.
Serve me, Allen Fenwick--that poor policeman! Me, whom a king could not
serve! What did I ask from earth but Fame and Lilian's heart? Thrones
and bread man wins from the aid of others; fame and woman's heart he can
only gain through himself.
So I strode gayly up the hill, through the iron gates, into the fairy
ground, and stood before Lilian's home.
The man-servant, on opening the door, seemed somewhat confused, and
said hastily before I spoke,--
"Not at home, sir; a note for you."
I turned the note mechanically in my hand; I felt stunned.
"Not at home! Miss Ashleigh cannot be out. How is she?"
"Better, sir, thank you."
I still could not open the note; my eyes turned wistfully towards the
windows of the house, and there--at the drawing-room window--I encountered
the scowl of Mr. Vigors. I coloured with resentment, divined that I was
dismissed, and walked away with a proud crest and a firm step.
When I was out of the gates, in the blind lane, I opened the note. It
began formally. "Mrs. Ashleigh presents her compliments," and went on to
thank me, civilly enough, for my attendance the night before, would not
give me the trouble to repeat my visit, and inclosed a fee, double the
amount of the fee prescribed by custom. I flung the money, as an asp that
had stung me, over the high wall, and tore the note into shreds. Having
thus idly vented my rage, a dull gnawing sorrow came heavily down upon all
other emotions, stifling and replacing them. At the mouth of the lane I
halted. I shrank from the thought of the crowded streets beyond; I shrank
yet more from the routine of duties, which stretched before me in the
desert into which daily life was so suddenly smitten. I sat down by the
roadside, shading my dejected face with a nervous hand. I looked up as
the sound of steps reached my ear, and saw Dr. Jones coming briskly along
the lane, evidently from Abbots' House. He must have been there at the
very time I had called. I was not only dismissed but supplanted. I rose
before he reached the spot on which I had seated myself, and went my way
into the town, went through my allotted round of professional visits; but
my attentions were not so tenderly devoted, my kill so genially quickened
by the glow of benevolence, as my poorer patients had found them in the
morning. I have said how the physician should enter the sick-room. "A
Calm Intelligence!" But if you strike a blow on the heart, the intellect
suffers. Little worth, I suspect, was my "calm intelligence" that day.
Bichat, in his famous book upon Life and Death, divides life into two
classes,--animal and organic. Man's intellect, with the brain for its
centre, belongs to life animal; his passions to life organic, centred in
the heart, in the viscera. Alas! if the noblest passions through which
alone we lift ourselves into the moral realm of the sublime and beautiful
really have their centre in the life which the very vegetable, that lives
organically, shares with us! And, alas! if it be that life which we
share with the vegetable, that can cloud, obstruct, suspend, annul that
life centred in the brain, which we share with every being howsoever
angelic, in every star howsoever remote, on whom the Creator bestows the
faculty of thought!
CHAPTER XII.
But suddenly I remembered Mrs. Poyntz. I ought to call on her. So I
closed my round of visits at her door. The day was then far advanced, and
the servant politely informed me that Mrs. Poyntz was at dinner. I could
only leave my card, with a message that I would pay my respects to her the
next day. That evening I received from her this note:--
Dear Dr. Fenwick,--I regret much that I cannot have the pleasure of
seeing you to-morrow. Poyntz and I are going to visit his brother, at
the other end of the county, and we start early. We shall be away some
days. Sorry to hear from Mrs. Ashleigh that she has been persuaded by
Mr. Vigors to consult Dr. Jones about Lilian. Vigors and Jones both
frighten the poor mother, and insist upon consumptive tendencies.
Unluckily, you seem to have said there was little the matter. Some
doctors train their practice as some preachers fill their churches,--by
adroit use of the appeals to terror. You do not want patients, Dr.
Jones does. And, after all, better perhaps as it is.
Yours, etc.
M. Poyntz.
To my more selfish grief, anxiety for Lilian was now added. I had seen
many more patients die from being mistreated for consumption than from
consumption itself. And Dr. Jones was a mercenary, cunning, needy man,
with much crafty knowledge of human foibles, but very little skill in the
treatment of human maladies. My fears were soon confirmed. A few days
after I heard from Miss Brabazon that Miss Ashleigh was seriously ill,
kept her room. Mrs. Ashleigh made this excuse for not immediately
returning the visits which the Hill had showered upon her. Miss Brabazon
had seen Dr. Jones, who had shaken his head, said it was a serious case;
but that time and care (his time and his care!) might effect wonders.
How stealthily at the dead of the night I would climb the Hill and look
towards the windows of the old sombre house,--one window, in which a light
burned dim and mournful, the light of a sick-room,--of hers!
At length Mrs. Poyntz came back, and I entered her house, having fully
resolved beforehand on the line of policy to be adopted towards the
potentate whom I hoped to secure as an ally. It was clear that neither
disguise nor half-confidence would baffle the penetration of so keen an
intellect, nor propitiate the good will of so imperious and resolute a
temper. Perfect frankness here was the wisest prudence; and after all, it
was most agreeable to my own nature, and most worthy of my own honour.
Luckily, I found Mrs. Poyntz alone, and taking in both mine the hand
she somewhat coldly extended to me, I said, with the earnestness of
suppressed emotion,--
"You observed when I last saw you, that I had not yet asked you to be
my friend. I ask it now. Listen to me with all the indulgence you can
vouchsafe, and let me at least profit by your counsel if you refuse to
give me your aid."
Rapidly, briefly, I went on to say how I had first seen Lilian, and
how sudden, how strange to myself, had been the impression which that
first sight of her had produced.
"You remarked the change that had come over me," said I; "you
divined the cause before I divined it myself,--divined it as I sat there
beside you, thinking that through you I might see, in the freedom of
social intercourse, the face that was then haunting me. You know what has
since passed. Miss Ashleigh is ill; her case is, I am convinced, wholly
misunderstood. All other feelings are merged in one sense of anxiety,--of
alarm. But it has become due to me, due to all, to incur the risk of your
ridicule even more than of your reproof, by stating to you thus candidly,
plainly, bluntly, the sentiment which renders alarm so poignant, and
which, if scarcely admissible to the romance of some wild dreamy boy, may
seem an unpardonable folly in a man of my years and my sober calling,--due
to me, to you, to Mrs. Ashleigh, because still the dearest thing in life
to me is honour. And if you, who know Mrs. Ashleigh so intimately, who
must be more or less aware of her plans or wishes for her daughter's
future,--if you believe that those plans or wishes lead to a lot far more
ambitious than an alliance with me could offer to Miss Ashleigh, then aid
Mr. Vigors in excluding me from the house; aid me in suppressing a
presumptuous, visionary passion. I cannot enter that house without love
and hope at my heart; and the threshold of that house I must not cross if
such love and such hope would be a sin and a treachery in the eyes of its
owner. I might restore Miss Ashleigh to health; her gratitude might--I
cannot continue. This danger must not be to me nor to her, if her mother
has views far above such a son-in-law. And I am the more bound to
consider all this while it is yet time, because I heard you state that
Miss Ashleigh had a fortune, was what would be here termed an heiress.
And the full consciousness that whatever fame one in my profession may
live to acquire, does not open those vistas of social power and grandeur
which are opened by professions to my eyes less noble in themselves,--that
full consciousness, I say, was forced upon me by certain words of your
own. For the rest, you know my descent is sufficiently recognized as that
amidst well-born gentry to have rendered me no mesalliance to families the
most proud of their ancestry, if I had kept my hereditary estate and
avoided the career that makes me useful to man. But I acknowledge that on
entering a profession such as mine--entering any profession except that of
arms or the senate--all leave their pedigree at its door, an erased or
dead letter. All must come as equals, high-born or low-born, into that
arena in which men ask aid from a man as he makes himself; to them his
dead forefathers are idle dust. Therefore, to the advantage of birth I
cease to have a claim. I am but a provincial physician, whose station
would be the same had he been a cobbler's son. But gold retains its grand
privilege in all ranks. He who has gold is removed from the suspicion
that attaches to the greedy fortune-hunter. My private fortune, swelled
by my savings, is sufficient to secure to any one I married a larger
settlement than many a wealthy squire can make. I need no fortune with a
wife; if she have one, it would be settled on herself. Pardon these
vulgar details. Now, have I made myself understood?"
"Fully," answered the Queen of the Hill, who had listened to me
quietly, watchfully, and without one interruption, "fully; and you have
done well to confide in me with so generous an unreserve. But before I
say further, let me ask, what would be your advice for Lilian, supposing
that you ought not to attend her? You have no trust in Dr. Jones; neither
have I. And Annie Ashleigh's note received to-day, begging me to call,
justifies your alarm. Still you think there is no tendency to
consumption?"
"Of that I am certain so far as my slight glimpse of a case that
to me, however, seems a simple and not uncommon one, will permit. But in
the alternative you put--that my own skill, whatever its worth, is
forbidden--my earnest advice is that Mrs. Ashleigh should take her
daughter at once to London, and consult there those great authorities to
whom I cannot compare my own opinion or experience; and by their counsel
abide."
Mrs. Poyntz shaded her eyes with her hand for a few moments, and seemed
in deliberation with herself. Then she said, with her peculiar smile,
half grave, half ironical,--
"In matters more ordinary you would have won me to your side long ago.
That Mr. Vigors should have presumed to cancel my recommendation to a
settler on the Hill was an act of rebellion, and involved the honour of my
prerogative; but I suppressed my indignation at an affront so unusual,
partly out of pique against yourself, but much more, I think, out of
regard for you."
"I understand. You detected the secret of my heart; you knew that Mrs.
Ashleigh would not wish to see her daughter the wife of a provincial
physician."
"Am I sure, or are you sure, that the daughter herself would accept
that fate; or if she accepted it, would not repent?"
"Do you not think me the vainest of men when I say this,--that I cannot
believe I should be so enthralled by a feeling at war with my reason,
unfavoured by anything I can detect in my habits of mind, or even by the
dreams of a youth which exalted science and excluded love, unless I was
intimately convinced that Miss Ashleigh's heart was free, that I could
win, and that I could keep it! Ask me why I am convinced of this, and I
can tell you no more why I think that she could love me than I can tell
you why I love her!"
"I am of the world, worldly; but I am a woman, womanly,--though I may
not care to be thought it. And, therefore, though what you say is,
regarded in a worldly point of view, sheer nonsense, regarded in a womanly
point of view, it is logically sound. But still you cannot know Lilian as
I do. Your nature and hers are in strong contrast. I do not think she
is a safe wife for you. The purest, the most innocent creature
imaginable, certainly that, but always in the seventh heaven; and you in
the seventh heaven just at this moment, but with an irresistible
gravitation to the solid earth, which will have its way again when the
honeymoon is over--I do not believe you two would harmonize by
intercourse. I do not believe Lilian would sympathize with you, and I am
sure you could not sympathize with her throughout the long dull course of
this workday life. And, therefore, for your sake, as well as hers, I was
not displeased to find that Dr. Jones had replaced you; and now, in return
for your frankness, I say frankly, do not go again to that house. Conquer
this sentiment, fancy, passion, whatever it be. And I will advise Mrs.
Ashleigh to take Lilian to town. Shall it be so settled?"
I could not speak. I buried my face in my hands-misery, misery,
desolation!
I know not how long I remained thus silent, perhaps many minutes. At
length I felt a cold, firm, but not ungentle hand placed upon mine; and a
clear, full, but not discouraging voice said to me,--
"Leave me to think well over this conversation, and to ponder well the
value of all you have shown that you so deeply feel. The interests of
life do not fill both scales of the balance. The heart, which does not
always go in the same scale with the interests, still has its weight in
the scale opposed to them. I have heard a few wise men say, as many a
silly woman says, 'Better be unhappy with one we love, than be happy with
one we love not.' Do you say that too?"
"With every thought of my brain, every beat of my pulse, I say it."
"After that answer, all my questionings cease. You shall hear from me
to-morrow. By that time, I shall have seen Annie and Lilian. I shall
have weighed both scales of the balance,--and the heart here, Allen
Fenwick, seems very heavy. Go, now. I hear feet on the stairs, Poyntz
bringing up some friendly gossiper; gossipers are spies."
I passed my hand over my eyes, tearless, but how tears would have
relieved the anguish that burdened them! and, without a word, went down
the stairs, meeting at the landing-place Colonel Poyntz and the old man
whose pain my prescription had cured. The old man was whistling a merry
tune, perhaps first learned on the playground. He broke from it to thank,
almost to embrace me, as I slid by him. I seized his jocund blessing as a
good omen, and carried it with me as I passed into the broad sunlight.
Solitary--solitary! Should I be so evermore?