A Dark Night's Work [52]
of way."
"Oh, papa, it was my doing, I'm afraid. I said something long ago about possible disgrace."
He pushed her away; he stood up, and looked at her with the eyes dilated, half in fear, half in fierceness, of an animal at bay; he did not heed that his abrupt movement had almost thrown her prostrate on the ground.
"You, Ellinor! You--you--"
"Oh, darling father, listen!" said she, creeping to his knees, and clasping them with her hands. "I said it, as if it were a possible case, of some one else--last August--but he immediately applied it, and asked me if it was over me the disgrace, or shame--I forget the words we used--hung; and what could I say?"
"Anything--anything to put him off the scent. God help me, I am a lost man, betrayed by my child!"
Ellinor let go his knees, and covered her face. Every one stabbed at that poor heart. In a minute or so her father spoke again.
"I don't mean what I say. I often don't mean it now. Ellinor, you must forgive me, my child!" He stooped, and lifted her up, and sat down, taking her on his knee, and smoothing her hair off her hot forehead. "Remember, child, how very miserable I am, and have forgiveness for me. He had none, and yet he must have seen I had been drinking."
"Drinking, papa!" said Ellinor, raising her head, and looking at him with sorrowful surprise.
"Yes. I drink now to try and forget," said he, blushing and confused.
"Oh, how miserable we are!" cried Ellinor, bursting into tears--"how very miserable! It seems almost as if God had forgotten to comfort us!"
"Hush! hush!" said he. "Your mother said once she did so pray that you might grow up religious; you must be religious, child, because she prayed for it so often. Poor Lettice, how glad I am that you are dead!" Here he began to cry like a child. Ellinor comforted him with kisses rather than words. He pushed her away, after a while, and said, sharply: "How much does he know? I must make sure of that. How much did you tell him, Ellinor?"
"Nothing--nothing, indeed, papa, but what I told you just now!"
"Tell it me again--the exact words!"
"I will, as well as I can; but it was last August. I only said, 'Was it right for a woman to marry, knowing that disgrace hung over her, and keeping her lover in ignorance of it?'"
"That was all, you are sure?"
"Yes. He immediately applied the case to me--to ourselves."
"And he never wanted to know what was the nature of the threatened disgrace?"
"Yes, he did."
"And you told him?"
"No, not a word more. He referred to the subject again today, in the shrubbery; but I told him nothing more. You quite believe me, don't you, papa?"
He pressed her to him, but did not speak. Then he took the note up again, and read it with as much care and attention as he could collect in his agitated state of mind.
"Nelly," said he, at length, "he says true; he is not good enough for thee. He shrinks from the thought of the disgrace. Thou must stand alone, and bear the sins of thy father."
He shook so much as he said this, that Ellinor had to put any suffering of her own on one side, and try to confine her thoughts to the necessity of getting her father immediately up to bed. She sat by him till he went to sleep, and she could leave him, and go to her own room, to forgetfulness and rest, if she could find those priceless blessings.
CHAPTER X.
Mr. Corbet was so well known at the Parsonage by the two old servants, that he had no difficulty, on reaching it, after his departure from Ford Bank, in having the spare bed-chamber made ready for him, late as it was, and in the absence of the master, who had taken a little holiday, now that Lent and Easter were over, for the purpose of fishing. While his room was getting ready, Ralph sent for his clothes, and by the same messenger he despatched the little note to Ellinor. But there was the letter he had promised her in it still to be written; and it was almost his night's employment to say enough, yet not too much; for, as he expressed it to himself, he was half
"Oh, papa, it was my doing, I'm afraid. I said something long ago about possible disgrace."
He pushed her away; he stood up, and looked at her with the eyes dilated, half in fear, half in fierceness, of an animal at bay; he did not heed that his abrupt movement had almost thrown her prostrate on the ground.
"You, Ellinor! You--you--"
"Oh, darling father, listen!" said she, creeping to his knees, and clasping them with her hands. "I said it, as if it were a possible case, of some one else--last August--but he immediately applied it, and asked me if it was over me the disgrace, or shame--I forget the words we used--hung; and what could I say?"
"Anything--anything to put him off the scent. God help me, I am a lost man, betrayed by my child!"
Ellinor let go his knees, and covered her face. Every one stabbed at that poor heart. In a minute or so her father spoke again.
"I don't mean what I say. I often don't mean it now. Ellinor, you must forgive me, my child!" He stooped, and lifted her up, and sat down, taking her on his knee, and smoothing her hair off her hot forehead. "Remember, child, how very miserable I am, and have forgiveness for me. He had none, and yet he must have seen I had been drinking."
"Drinking, papa!" said Ellinor, raising her head, and looking at him with sorrowful surprise.
"Yes. I drink now to try and forget," said he, blushing and confused.
"Oh, how miserable we are!" cried Ellinor, bursting into tears--"how very miserable! It seems almost as if God had forgotten to comfort us!"
"Hush! hush!" said he. "Your mother said once she did so pray that you might grow up religious; you must be religious, child, because she prayed for it so often. Poor Lettice, how glad I am that you are dead!" Here he began to cry like a child. Ellinor comforted him with kisses rather than words. He pushed her away, after a while, and said, sharply: "How much does he know? I must make sure of that. How much did you tell him, Ellinor?"
"Nothing--nothing, indeed, papa, but what I told you just now!"
"Tell it me again--the exact words!"
"I will, as well as I can; but it was last August. I only said, 'Was it right for a woman to marry, knowing that disgrace hung over her, and keeping her lover in ignorance of it?'"
"That was all, you are sure?"
"Yes. He immediately applied the case to me--to ourselves."
"And he never wanted to know what was the nature of the threatened disgrace?"
"Yes, he did."
"And you told him?"
"No, not a word more. He referred to the subject again today, in the shrubbery; but I told him nothing more. You quite believe me, don't you, papa?"
He pressed her to him, but did not speak. Then he took the note up again, and read it with as much care and attention as he could collect in his agitated state of mind.
"Nelly," said he, at length, "he says true; he is not good enough for thee. He shrinks from the thought of the disgrace. Thou must stand alone, and bear the sins of thy father."
He shook so much as he said this, that Ellinor had to put any suffering of her own on one side, and try to confine her thoughts to the necessity of getting her father immediately up to bed. She sat by him till he went to sleep, and she could leave him, and go to her own room, to forgetfulness and rest, if she could find those priceless blessings.
CHAPTER X.
Mr. Corbet was so well known at the Parsonage by the two old servants, that he had no difficulty, on reaching it, after his departure from Ford Bank, in having the spare bed-chamber made ready for him, late as it was, and in the absence of the master, who had taken a little holiday, now that Lent and Easter were over, for the purpose of fishing. While his room was getting ready, Ralph sent for his clothes, and by the same messenger he despatched the little note to Ellinor. But there was the letter he had promised her in it still to be written; and it was almost his night's employment to say enough, yet not too much; for, as he expressed it to himself, he was half