Читать книгу The Last of the Mortimers - Маргарет Олифант - Страница 18

THE regiment was ordered to Edinburgh; and it was there we went accordingly in that lovely autumn weather. I don’t think Harry quite liked to hear me talk of Nurse Richards and the way she brought me up; but he was pleased enough to take walks with me all round that castle which was the centre of my recollections. At first we used to spend every leisure moment we had wandering up and down the steep walks, and always pausing to look up at the great precipice of rock. It was like a friend to me, rising up out of the soft tiers and green slopes of grass: the two churches down at its foot looking so mean and tiny beside it. People should not build churches there. I almost think even a great noble cathedral would look shabby under the shadow of that rock; and only to think of that dreadful West Church and the other one! how they can dare venture to stand there and don’t move and crumble down of themselves! They would if there was any feeling in stone.

We got our lodgings out to the south of the castle, two nice little cosy rooms. It was not a fashionable quarter, to be sure, nor were the rooms very grandly furnished; but we had such views from the windows! The Castle Rock, with its buildings jutting on the very edge, and yet standing so strong and firm; the harsh ridge of the crags behind, and the misty lion-head over all, gazing like a sentinel towards the sea. And it was not these only, but all the clouds about them. Such dramas every day! Now all sweet and serene like happiness; now all thundery and ominous like a great misfortune; now brightened up with streaks of home and comfort; now settling down leaden-dark, and heavy like death itself, or despair. I never was poetical that I know of; but it was like reading a very great poem every day to live in that little house at Bruntsfield. Harry enjoyed it as much as I did. We lived the very cheapest that ever was. We never went out anywhere; for Harry had always a little society with his brother officers and at mess, and I had him, and old Mrs. Saltoun, our landlady, to talk to when he was away, and was as happy as the day was long. All the pleasantest recollections I had as a child were connected with this place; and when I looked out of my window at night and saw the lights shining up on the top of the Castle Rock, and the stars higher still glimmering out above, or the moon revealing out of the dark where Arthur’s Seat lay quiet, couched like a sentinel; and heard the recall trumpet pealing out high into the clear air, my mind used to wander from dear Nurse Richards, and the stories she used to tell me, back to my great happiness now. When Harry found me at the window crying to myself, he thought I was low-spirited. Low-spirited! I was crying for pure happiness; because I was too happy to tell it, or put it in words, or show it anyhow else.

All this time we had never heard a single word from Harry’s uncle who promised him the present on his birthday. This uncle was the only relation he had except some cousins whom he did not know much about. He was very near as friendless as I was; only that he remembered his father and mother perfectly well, and had been brought up at home, which made a great difference. Harry of course had written to his uncle to say what had occurred; and he had never answered the letter. He was an old bachelor, and rather rich; and if he did not take offence, and nothing happened, it had always been supposed that Harry was to be his heir; though I did not know this till after we were married and could not untie ourselves, however angry any one might be.

One day, however, Harry came home to me with a wonderful face. I could not tell, though I knew what his face meant pretty well by this time, what it was that day; whether he was angry, or disappointed, or vexed, or only bursting with laughter. It turned out he was all of them together. He tossed a letter on the table, and laughed and stamped his foot, as if he did not quite know what he was doing.

“By Jove, it’s too absurd!” cried Harry; for I could not get him to leave off that stupid exclamation: but I thought it must be a little serious too, as well as absurd, by the look in his eye.

And what should it be but a letter from his uncle, declaring that, though nothing else would have induced him to do such a thing, yet, to punish Harry’s rashness and presumption, he had made up his mind to a step which everybody assured him was the most prudent thing he could do, and which it was only a pity he had not thought of sooner; this was, in short, that he had married as well as Harry. Enclosed his nephew would find cards addressed to his new wife: and, as for the expenses of such an undertaking, he assured Harry that it would be ridiculous to look for any assistance to a man in similar circumstances with himself. On a clear understanding of which he could certainly afford to wish his nephew joy,—but nothing else,—for he meant now to have heirs of his own.

Harry stared at me while I read this letter with a sort of angry fun and indignation in his face, which would turn either one way or another, I could see, according to how I received it. I cannot say I was the least disappointed. I threw down the letter, and clapped my hands and laughed. It was the most whimsical letter you could imagine; and, as for the birthday present, or any other assistance to us, I had never looked for it since Harry wrote what we had done.

“Weel, weel, it’s no ill news, that’s a comfort. But, Captain, you maunna come in rampaging and disturbing the lady when we’re no looking for you,” said Mrs. Saltoun, who had been sitting with me. “Now I’ll gang my ways ben the house; and you ken where to find me, Mrs. Langham, my dear, when you want me again.”

I had it on my lips to beg her not to go away, but stopped in time, for Harry naturally, though he likes her very well, does not take comfort in the good old lady as I do. When she was gone he laughed out again, but a little abruptly, and not as if he felt particularly happy about the news.

“Why, Harry, what’s the matter; did you expect anything?” said I.

“Well, not exactly, to be sure,” said Harry, with a half-ashamed look; “except the first moment when I recognised the old fellow’s handwriting. I did think it would be pleasant, Milly darling, to get some little comforts about you just now.”

“I have quantities of comforts,” said I; “and such a jewel of an old lady to look after me when you are away. There is nobody in the world so lucky as me.”

“Lucky!” said Harry, with a little shout. “If you should turn out a great heiress to be sure; that’s always a possible contingency, according to your Aunt Connor. Otherwise, with all sorts of things going to happen to us, and only my subaltern’s pay–”

“Mr. Langham, you forget my five-and-twenty pounds a year!” cried I.

And how do you think the savage answered me? “The old witch!” exclaimed Harry, “to think of her stopping your simple mouth with that ten pounds! I’d have seen her ducked, or burned, or whatever they do to witches, before I’d have taken it!—and cheating you out of your little morsel of fortune! How long do you suppose you’ll get your five-and-twenty pounds?”

“As long as poor Aunt Connor can pay it,” said I. “Things might come in the way to be sure; but she means to pay it regularly, and always will when she can. What makes you so discontented, Harry? We have enough for to-day, and God knows all about to-morrow.”

“Ah, yes! but He’s far off, Milly, to a poor fellow like me. How can I tell that He cares much what’s to become of us,—unless, indeed, it were for your sake.”

“Oh, Harry, Harry! how dare you say so!” cried I. “And see how good He has been to us two orphans. Neither of us had any home or any one belonging to us; and only look round you now!”

Do you think it was not very much that he had to look round upon?—a little room, low-roofed, and humbly furnished. It was nothing to any other man or woman in the world; but we were two of us together in it, and it was our home. Could I help but cry when I thought how different I was from Aunt Connor’s niece in the nursery? And Harry was just as thankful as I was, though he had his little pretences of grumbling like this now and then. Does anybody think he was really anxious, either about his uncle’s present that was never to come now, or my five hundred pounds that was not much more to be relied on, or what was to happen to us? No! he was no more anxious than I was; only now and then he pretended to make a little fuss about it, and to be wanting something better for me.