A strange and painful breakfast it was,even though the most important element in its painfulness,Guy,was happily absent.The rest of us kept up a fragmentary,awkward conversation,every one round the table looking as indeed one might have expected they would look--with one exception.
Miss Silver,who,from her behaviour last night,and her demeanour to me this morning,I had supposed would now have gathered up all her haughtiness to resist Guy's parents--as,ignorant both of his feelings and their intentions towards her,a young lady of her proud spirit might well resist--was,to my astonishment,as mild and meek as this soft spring morning.Nay,like it,seemed often on the very verge of the melting mood.More than once her drooping eyelashes were gemmed with tears.And when,the breakfast-table being quickly deserted--Edwin,indeed,had left it almost immediately--she,sitting absently in her place,was gently touched by Mrs.Halifax,she started up,with the same vivid rush of colour that I had before noticed.It completely altered the expression of her face;made her look ten years younger--ten years happier,and,being happier,ten times more amiable.
This expression--I was not the only one to notice it--was,by some intuition,reflected on the mother's.It made softer than any speech of hers to Miss Silver--the few words--"My dear,will you come with me into the study?""To lessons?Yes.I beg your pardon!Maud--where is Maud?""Never mind lessons just yet.We will have a little chat with my son.Uncle Phineas,you'll come?Will you come,too,my dear?""If you wish it."And with an air of unwonted obedience,she followed Mrs.Halifax.
Poor Guy!--confused young lover!--meeting for the first time after his confession the acknowledged object of his preference--I really felt sorry for him!And,except that women have generally twice as much self-control in such cases as men--and Miss Silver proved it--Imight even have been sorry for her.But then her uncertainties would soon be over.She had not to make--all her family being aware she was then and there making it--that terrible "offer of marriage,"which,I am given to understand,is,even under the most favourable circumstances,as formidable as going up to the cannon's mouth.
I speak of it jestingly,as we all jested uneasily that morning,save Mrs.Halifax,who scarcely spoke a word.At length,when Miss Silver,growing painfully restless,again referred to "lessons,"she said:
"Not yet.I want Maud for half an hour.Will you be so kind as to take my place,and sit with my son the while?""Oh,certainly!"
I was vexed with her--really vexed--for that ready assent;but then,who knows the ins and outs of women's ways?At any rate,for Guy's sake this must be got over--the quicker the better.His mother rose.
"My son,my dear boy!"She leant over him,whispering--I think she kissed him--then slowly,quietly,she walked out of the study.Ifollowed.Outside the door we parted,and I heard her go up-stairs to her own room.
It might have been half an hour afterwards,when Maud and I,coming in from the garden,met her standing in the hall.No one was with her,and she was doing nothing;two very remarkable facts in the daily life of the mother of the family.
Maud ran up to her with some primroses.
"Very pretty,very pretty,my child."
"But you don't look at them--you don't care for them--I'll go and show them to Miss Silver.""No,"was the hasty answer."Come back,Maud--Miss Silver is occupied."Making some excuse,I sent the child away,for I saw that even Maud's presence was intolerable to her mother.That poor mother,whose suspense was growing into positive agony.
She waited--standing at the dining-room window--listening--going in and out of the hall,--for another ten minutes.
"It is very strange--very strange indeed.He promised to come and tell me;surely at least he ought to come and tell me first--me,his mother--"She stopped at the word,oppressed by exceeding pain.
"Hark!was that the study door?"
"I think so;one minute more and you will be quite certain."Ay!one minute more,and we WERE quite certain.The young lover entered--his bitter tidings written on his face.
"She has refused me,mother.I never shall be happy more."Poor Guy!--I slipped out of his sight and left the lad alone with his mother.
Another hour passed of this strange,strange day.The house seemed painfully quiet.Maud,disconsolate and cross,had taken herself away to the beech-wood with Walter;the father and Edwin were busy at the mills,and had sent word that neither would return to dinner.Iwandered from room to room,always excepting that shut-up room where,as I took care,no one should disturb the mother and son.
At last I heard them both going up-stairs--Guy was still too lame to walk without assistance.I heard the poor lad's fretful tones,and the soothing,cheerful voice that answered them."Verily,"thought I,"if,since he must fall in love,Guy had only fixed his ideal standard of womanhood a little nearer home--if he had only chosen for his wife a woman a little more like his mother!"But I suppose that would have been expecting impossibilities.