Hetty Wesley Part 32

So William Wright had gone alone to the christening feast, and there John Wesley had met him for the first time, and talked with him, and afterwards walked home full of thought. For, in truth, Hetty's husband had drunk more of John Lambert's wine than agreed with him, and had a.s.serted himself huskily, if not aggressively, under the cold eye of Mr. Wesley senior. John, as G.o.dfather, had been called upon for a speech, and his brother-in-law's "Hear, hear" had been so vociferous that while his kinsfolk stole glances at one another as who should say, "But what can one expect?" the Rector put out a hand with grim mock apprehension and felt the leaded window cas.e.m.e.nts.

"I'll mend all I break, and for nothing," shouted Mr. Wright heartily: and amid a scandalised silence Charles exploded in merry laughter, and saved the situation.

For a fortnight after his return to Oxford, college work absorbed all John's leisure: but he found time as a matter of course to meet Charles on his arrival at the Angel Inn, and took him straight off to Christ Church to present him to the Senior Censor. Next day he called to find his brother installed in Peckwater, on the topmost floor, but in rooms very much more cheerful than the garret suggested by Mr. Sherman. Charles, at any rate, was delighted with them and his sticks of furniture, and elated--as thousands of undergraduates have been before his day and since--at exchanging school for college and qualified liberty and the dignity of housekeeping on one's own account.

"_Est aliquid quocunque loco, quocunque recessu_," he quoted, and showed John with triumph the window seat which, lifted, disclosed a cupboard to contain his wine, if ever he should possess any.

"Are you proposing to become a wine-bibber in your enthusiasm?" asked John.

Charles closed the lid, seated himself upon it, drew up his legs, and gazed out across the quadrangle. He had made a friend or two already among the freshmen, and this life seemed to him very good.

"My dear Jack, you would not have me be a saint all at once!"

John frowned. "You do not forget, I hope, in what hope you have been helped to Christ Church?"

Charles sat nursing his knees. A small frown puckered his forehead, but scarcely interfered with the good-tempered smile about his mouth.

"Others beside my father have helped or are willing to help.

See that letter?"--he nodded towards one lying open on the table-- "It is from Ireland. It has been lying in the porter's lodge for a week, and my scout brought it up this morning."

John picked it up, smiling at his boyish air of importance. "Am I to read it?"

Charles nodded, and while his brother read, gazed out of window.

The smile still played about his mouth, but queerly.

"It is a handsome offer," said John slowly, and laid the letter down.

"Have you taken any decision?"

"Father leaves it to me, as you know," Charles answered and paused, musing. "I suppose, now, ninety-nine out of a hundred would jump at it."

"a.s.suredly."

"Somehow our family seems to be made up of odd hundredths. You, for example, do not wish me to accept."

"I have said nothing to influence your choice."

"No, my dear Jack, you have not. Yet I know what you think, fast enough."

John picked up the letter again and folded it carefully.

"An estate in Ireland; a safe seat in the Irish Parliament; and money. Jack, that money might help to make many happy. Think of our mother, often without enough to eat; think of father's debts.

He knows I would pay them," said Charles.

"And yet he has not tried to influence your choice."

"He's a Trojan, Jack; an old warhorse. You have cause to love him, for he loves you so much above all of us--and you know it--that, had the choice been offered you, he'd have moved heaven and earth to prevent your accepting a fortune."

He swung round, dropping his feet to the floor, and eyed his brother quizzically.

"Upon my word," he went on, "this thing annoys me. I've a mind to--"

Here he dived a hand into his breeches pocket and fished out a shilling. "We'll settle it here and now, and you shall be witness.

Heads for Dangan Castle and Parliament House; tails for poverty!"

He spun the coin and slapped it down on his knee. His hand still covered it.

--"Come Jack, stand up and be properly excited."

"Nay," said John; "would you jest with G.o.d's purpose for you?"

"I have seen you open the Bible at random and take your omen from the first words your eyes light on. Yet I never accused you of jesting with Holy Writ. Cannot G.o.d as easily determine the fall of a coin?"

He withdrew his hand, and drew a deep breath. "Tails!" he announced, and faced his brother, smiling. "I am in earnest," he said.

"But if you prefer the other way--"

He stepped to the shelf, took down his Bible and opened it, not looking himself, but holding the page under his brother's eyes.

"Well, what does it say?" he asked.

"It says," John answered, "'Let the high praises of G.o.d be in their mouth, and a two-edged sword in their hand.'"

Charles closed the Bible and restored it to its shelf; then faced his brother again, still with his inscrutable smile.

BOOK IV.

CHAPTER I.

"I never knew you were such a needlewoman, Hetty. It has been nothing but st.i.tch-st.i.tch for these two hours--and the same yesterday, and the day before. See, the kettle's boiling. Lay down your sewing, that's a dear creature; make me a dish of tea; and while you're doing it, let me see your eyes and hear your voice."

Hetty dropped her hands on her lap and let them rest there for a moment, while she looked across at Charles with a smile.

"As for talking," she answered, "it seems to me you have been doing pretty well without my help."

Charles laughed. "Now you speak of it, I _have_ been rattling on.

But there has been so much to say and so little time to say it in.

Has it occurred to you that we have seen more of each other in these seven days than in all our lives before?"

Seven days ago, while staying with his brother Sam at Westminster, he had heard of her arrival in London and had tramped through the slushy streets at once to seek her out at her address in Crown Court, Dean Street, Soho. She had welcomed him in this dark little second-floor room--dwelling-room and bedroom combined--in which she was sitting alone; for her husband spent most of the day abroad on the business which had brought them to London, either superintending the alterations in the unfurnished premises he had hired in Frith Street for his shop and the lead-works by which he proposed to make his fortune, or in long discussions at Johnson's Court with Uncle Matthew, who was helping with money and advice. The lodgings in Crown Court were narrow enough and shut in by high walls. But Hetty had not inhabited them two hours before they looked clean and comfortable and even dainty. Her own presence lent an air of distinction to the meanest room.

Her face, her voice, her regal manners, her exquisitely tender smile, came upon Charles with the shock of discovery. These two had not seen one another for years. The date of this first call was December 22nd: then and there--with a shade of regret that in a few days he must leave London to pay Wroote a visit before his vacation closed-- Charles resolved that she should not spend her Christmas uncheered.

On Christmas Day he had carried her off with her husband to dine at Westminster with Mr. and Mrs. Sam Wesley. Mr. Wright had been on his best behaviour, Mrs. Sam unexpectedly gracious, and the meeting altogether a great success. Charles had walked home with the guests, and had called again the next afternoon. He could see that his visits gave Hetty the purest delight, and now that they must end, he, too, realised how pleasant they had been, and that he was going to miss them sorely.

"Only seven days?" he went on, musing. "I can hardly believe it; you have let me talk at such length--and I have been so happy."

Hetty clapped her hands together--an old girlish trick of hers.