Englefield Grange Part 25

"Only for a walk, mother; but on my way home I met Mrs. Armstrong and the young people, and they have given me a cordial invitation to come in and see them as often as I like."

"I thought you disliked going out to dinner and paying visits, Henry?"

"So I do as a rule, but there is no rule without an exception; and Mr.

Armstrong's family forms that exception."

Mrs. Halford stood for a moment contemplating her son's bright and lively mood with real surprise. Truly he presented an exception to the rule which generally governed him. For once the sedate, studious youth had a.s.sumed a gay and lightsome manner, which completely changed his appearance. Suddenly she remembered hearing Dr. Halford speak of the young lady he and her son had met at Mr. Drummond's dinner-party--the only and elder sister of little Freddy Armstrong. Determining to question her husband respecting this young lady, she readily allowed Henry to go on to his study without another word.

But once seated in this sanctum, so exclusively his own, Henry Halford's thoughts took a more serious turn. What he was about to do appeared more formidable on reflection than during the first few minutes of his walk home, when every difficulty seemed swept from his path.

On his return from Oxford, although, if possible, more earnest in his wish to obtain Mary Armstrong as a wife when he had made for her a home, the wish seemed hopeless. He had met her father and mother but once; he was not a visitor at their house, and till his terms at Oxford were ended he had no profession, excepting that of usher in his father's school.

Report said the woman he loved would be rich; how could he ask for her in his present penniless condition? So reasoned common sense. But then arose a thousand arguments in favour of asking for her now. If Mary Armstrong really loved him she would wait years for him. Might not he ask her father's permission to discover if such were the case? After all, it might be only for three years; and as soon as he was ordained had not his father's old pupil promised him a living for his son? And even if that failed, his father would make him a partner in the school, which he knew would be his at his death.

Thus reflecting he made up his mind to the venture, and seated himself at his desk to commence a letter to Mr. Armstrong.

But he found the task too full of difficulties to be hurried over. Two sheets of paper had been filled and thrown aside as unsuitable, and the summons to tea came before he had finished his third attempt. Carelessly pushing the spoiled sheets into his desk and locking it, he arose to join his friends at the tea-table, saying to himself, "I will write my letter to-morrow; it must not be done in a hurry." With this resolve he entered the little breakfast parlour, where we once heard a letter read which so faithfully portrayed his own characteristics. Kate Marston, who was pouring out the tea, looked at him earnestly.

"Why, aunt Clara," she said, "Henry looks as grave as a judge. I expected to see him come into the room like a sunbeam from your description."

"Well, Katey," said her cousin, "clouds must cover the sunbeams sometimes; and have you forgotten the poet's words?--'O man, thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.'"

"You can defend yourself, at all events, Henry," she replied; "and you know how completely you can silence me when you quote poetry. I never could learn to repeat a line of poetry in my life."

There was a pause, during which Henry, who sat opposite the window, appeared to be absorbed in the prospect of garden, fields, and meadows, thick summer foliage, and the distant blue hills of Highgate and Harrow which met his view. But the eyes were not "with the heart, for that was far away,"--in the meadows of Christ Church, Oxford, with a fair young girl leaning on his arm.

Persons who have the power of concentrating the mind on one particular subject at a time are spoken of as absent, and many curious incidents are related of talented men and their strange doings during these fits of abstraction. But it is to this very power of concentration that we owe our greatest statesmen, lawyers, poets, and warriors. The discovery of the power of steam, the inventions in science, art, mechanics, and medicine, which have given to the world its luxuries, its comforts, its advantages, and its power of alleviating suffering and pain, can all be attributed to that concentration of thought on one subject, which alone can give the mind a power to grasp it in all its completeness. The subject, however, so absorbing to Henry Halford might in one respect be called trivial; and yet that subject which involves the future happiness or misery of two individuals for life, can scarcely deserve such a name.

The probable success of his letter to Mr. Armstrong was the least important of his thoughts at this moment. Would it insure the happiness of the girl he loved? and was he justified in proposing mere possibilities as a basis for that happiness? were some of the questions he asked himself.

A smart blow with the palm of her hand on his shoulder, and his cousin Kate's words, "Uncle has spoken to you twice, Henry. What are you thinking about so deeply?" aroused him from his reverie.

"I beg your pardon, sir," he exclaimed, with a flushed face, "did you ask me a question?"

"Yes, Henry; I asked where you met Mr. Armstrong yesterday."

"Outside his own gate. He had just arrived from town on horseback. He treated me most affably, and said he should be glad to see you and myself to join their six o'clock dinner at any time without a special invitation, as he never gives dinner-parties."

There was a pause for some minutes, and then Mrs. Halford remarked--

"You met Miss Armstrong and her mother at Mr. Drummond's in March, James?"

"Yes, I remember the young lady's bright, intelligent face. Drummond told me her father has interfered greatly in the education of his daughter, teaching her the advanced rules of arithmetic, and even algebra and Euclid, and other subjects most unusual in the education of girls."

"I should imagine such knowledge would deprive a girl of all softness and refinement," remarked Mrs. Halford.

"It has not done so in Miss Armstrong's case," said Henry, quickly; "I saw enough of her at Mr. Drummond's to discover that."

"And you have seen her since at Oxford?" said his mother.

"Yes, almost every day for nearly a week; and I can a.s.sure you I never met a more lady-like, accomplished girl in my life, in spite of what is said of her father's eccentric plans in her education."

Kate Marston noticed the rising colour as it deepened in her cousin's cheek. She glanced at her aunt, and in that glance knew that the mother's suspicions confirmed her own.

"I think you told me, James, that Miss Armstrong's marriage portion will be very considerable," remarked Mrs. Halford.

"Something fabulous, according to Drummond's account; that is, if she marries a man of whom her father approves;" and the father as he spoke looked at his son. "Drummond told me that the ambition of Mr. Armstrong is to marry his daughter to a man of wealth and position, but if both are not attainable he will give her money enough to purchase the latter.

He heard him say once that such a girl as his daughter would be an ornament to society in the highest circles in the kingdom."

"Would Mr. Armstrong sacrifice his daughter's wishes to gratify sinful pride and mistaken ambition?" asked Henry, indignantly; "it seems to me an impossibility that any father could act thus." He drank off the contents of his teacup and left the room without waiting for a reply.

Again in his little study, he closed the door and locked it, opened his desk with impulsive eagerness, took out a sheet of writing-paper, and drew his chair to the table.

"I cannot believe any man could be so cruelly unkind to his only daughter," he said to himself. "Would he force her to marry a man she did not love, even if by so doing he could make her a countess? Does the acquisition of money so harden a parent's heart? I cannot, I will not believe it. I will try Mr. Armstrong before I can credit anything so base in human nature. He will no doubt answer my letter; and if he refuses to allow me to address his daughter, he will of course give me his reasons for doing so."

And so the young heart, ignorant of the world, as is the case with most men of studious habits, and with the trust in human nature which seldom outlives a few years of worldly experience, commenced a letter to a man who would, while reading it, sneer at the n.o.ble expressions of true-hearted affection it contained, and perhaps treat the writer with contemptuous silence. Nevertheless the letter was written and posted before Henry Halford slept that night.

We will follow it to its destination in London, and intrude upon Mr.

Armstrong's private room at his office in Dover Street, to which it was addressed.

Several letters were lying on the table when he entered the room on this morning of which we write, followed by his clerk. Still talking to him while opening them rapidly, he came upon the unknown hand and glanced at the signature, pausing in the midst of an important commission to the clerk to do so. "What could Mr. Henry Halford write to him about?

excepting----" and at the thought that followed he flushed with anger.

But a question from the gentlemanly young man who stood so patiently waiting his commands, recalled him to the business in hand. Laying the letter at a distance on the table, he opened the rest, and after a few brief directions, yet still so clear as to leave no room for a mistake, the clerk was dismissed. Then Mr. Armstrong, after writing in pencil various notes on the business letters before him, pushed them on one side and took up Henry Halford's long and closely written epistle.

We will read it with him:--

"Englefield Grange, July 4th, 18--.

"DEAR SIR,--Your very kind and cordial invitation this afternoon makes it imperative on me to address you with reference to a certain subject before I accept it. It is probable that after I have candidly explained the cause of my hesitation you may forbid me to enter your house, yet I should prefer even that sentence to any clandestine or concealed proceedings.

"Since Mrs. Armstrong placed her youngest son under my father's care I have had the pleasure of seeing your daughter several times; only twice, however, until the week of her visit to Oxford.

"I will confess to my admiration of Miss Armstrong even on the two former occasions, more especially while in her society at Mrs. Drummond's; but many considerations made me resist the inclination to call at your house and become better acquainted with the young lady.

"At Oxford, however, I met your daughter with my friend Captain Herbert, who was my fellow-student some years ago at Dr.

Mason's, though older than myself. I was surprised to find that my friend Charles Herbert was your daughter's cousin and Mrs.

Armstrong's nephew; Colonel Herbert kindly invited me to his hotel during their visit to Oxford, and I there met your daughter, and saw and conversed with her frequently during the week of her stay.

"I need not enlarge upon the personal attractions, the unusual talents, and the sweet character which make Miss Armstrong so charming, for these must be well known to yourself. But I ask to be allowed to seek to win her affections with the sanction of her parents and under their own roof.

"I ask this with great hesitation, because I am not yet in a position to offer your daughter such a home as I could wish, and shall eventually obtain for her. In two years I hope to be ordained, and my father's friend, Lord Rivers, has already promised him a living for his son.

"If I can succeed in gaining the affections of your daughter, she will not mind waiting the time I have named. We are both young, and I would wait as Jacob did for Rachel, so great is the love I bear her.

"I will only add that if you kindly grant me your consent, it will give me increased energy to prepare for my profession, and to make every effort to shorten the period of my probation, in the hope that the great happiness of making your charming daughter my cherished wife may eventually be mine.

"I remain, dear Sir,