Niece Catherine Part 14

'When trust has been once broken, trust can never again be established.

Catherine, I wish you to be happy; Mr. North, I hope to make you an offer which you will be able to accept without loss of independence; but I do require from you both some practical evidence of your consideration.'

'But, uncle dear, I have been offered a home at Redan Cottage, and though I do not mean to give up my situation as Mrs. Arderne's companion, I have promised always to regard Uncle Jack's home as my own.'

'You have done this in defiance of my objection?'

'Agatha wants me, poor lonely little soul! and from whom but an uncle could I accept a shelter?'

'True. I regret that my offer was not made first. However, all that is necessary now is that you should inform--the--the other uncle that you are obliged, for Mr. North's sake, to withdraw your acceptance of the home.'

'Why "for Mr. North's sake"?' asked the girl, going at once to the root of the matter. Uncle Ross knew that this inducement was the strongest he could offer, and she, by her question, admitted as much.

'I will tell you my plan,' said Mr. Carmichael, 'though I had intended waiting for a day or two, until Mr. North and I had begun to understand one another more. It is this. I purchase the paper known as _The Circle_, and become sole proprietor. It is in the market, and is as safe an investment as any I know. Then I offer Mr. North the editorship, with a yearly increasing share in the profits. At my death he shall become proprietor in my stead. The sole return I require from either of you is a reasonable amount of companionship--say a frequent Sat.u.r.day to Monday visit, as the paper is a weekly one, and occasional longer stays here at Carm Hall--with a cessation of your visits to the brother who has injured me. In the interests of peace and goodwill, I would sanction a meeting between you and him at Christmastide.'

While the squire had been speaking he had watched the faces of his auditors, had noted and apprised the strength of glad surprise, of grat.i.tude, of hope, of disappointment, of disapproval. He could scarcely believe that his offer would be refused, yet he saw how trustfully Brian turned towards Catherine, leaving her to answer, and how brave was the determination in Catherine's eyes.

'Uncle, your offer of help is a very large one, and we both thank you for it; but I cannot, even for Brian's sake, break my word to Uncle Jack, who was the first to offer me a home, and to Agatha, who wants me.

Neither could I enter upon a share in the quarrel, taking your part in it, since I believe that, though Uncle Jack may have acted imprudently, he never meant to make Loring turn against you. I think that you might hold out a hand to him. He would be so glad, for he frets over your estrangement, and prays for you every day.'

'My dear niece, even a young and charming woman is not ent.i.tled to give advice to her elders. On my part, I advise you not to let mere sentiment stand in the way of your future husband's advancement in life.'

'I could not be so much indebted to you while I blame you in my heart.

Oh, uncle, if a young woman ought not to judge her elders, when she is called upon to decide between them, she is obliged to consider what is her duty! My choice was declared when Uncle Jack made to me the best offer in his power, and Brian will not wish me to break my word to him, to agree to behave towards him as though I possessed one t.i.the less of the respect, love and admiration I have always felt for him!'

Brian responded to this appeal gravely and resolutely.

'While regretting the necessity to refuse so generous an offer, I think Catherine is quite right. This family quarrel exists through no fault of ours, so maybe it is not fair that we should suffer through it; but as we have to choose a side in it, we are bound in honour to make the choice in sympathy with our honest opinion of the right, not letting ourselves be influenced by the gain or loss of any worldly advantage. In Catherine's name, as well as in my own, sir, I express a hope that our being unable to accept favours from you will not prevent our owning your friendship.'

The squire turned abruptly aside and crossed the room to the window, where he stood for a few minutes gazing out. Land, houses, wealth, position, ease,--all these things had been scorned once by young Loring Carmichael; now they were once again refused by Catherine and her poor journalist lover. Yet the squire had spent his lifetime in ama.s.sing these goods,--had made great sacrifices for them, had toiled feverishly in his youth, and plodded through his best years of manhood,--had believed that wealth rules the world, and is the chief power over men and women. This second blow was a hard one, but he was too proud a man to wish to show chagrin.

As he returned from the window he replied to Brian.

'You must forgive me if I think you foolish. Having made you an offer, for which you have been good enough to express grat.i.tude, it would be unreasonable were I to quarrel with you for refusing it. Your peculiarly delicate conscience will interfere with your chances in life, I fancy; but argument with an obstinate man is worse than useless.'

Catherine approached him, and clasped his right arm with her two hands, crying pleadingly:

'Uncle, say you forgive me for refusing. I don't want to lose your affection. I told you the other day that I sought you out for the sake of your old kindness to me, with no idea that a penniless niece might be helped by your money.'

The ring of truth in her voice touched the old man's heart, making him yet more regret her refusal of his offer. Here was honesty shining behind those frank brown eyes, and he half repented having hedged his plan round with conditions. But obstinacy, the fault of his old age, prevented him from withdrawing one of his former words.

'I forgive you, Catherine. I trust you may not suffer much through your folly,' was his sole answer.

CHAPTER X

The Unexpected Happens

Catherine's choice had been finally made, approved by Brian and declared. They decided that there was no need to tell Uncle Jack of the offer Uncle Ross had made them, not unless he were to question them in such a manner that truth would be sacrificed by silence. And this did not happen. The colonel was anxious to be a.s.sured that his brother would not quarrel with them on account of Catherine's promise to regard Redan Cottage as home, and when he was gratified by receiving this a.s.surance he believed that all was well.

'Uncle Ross has forgiven me. I shall go to see him sometimes, just as I have been doing,' she said.

Those were delightful days during which Brian remained in Beverbridge.

Not only did Mrs. Arderne kindly invite him a great deal to her house, but she allowed her companion so much liberty that the young people were almost constantly in one another's company.

'I'm afraid I haven't been of much service to you lately!' the girl exclaimed penitently, when Brian had returned to town.

'Nonsense, my dear!' was the little lady's prompt answer. 'You simply obeyed my wishes, which happened to coincide with your own. I derived a great deal of entertainment as well as pleasure from observing you and your lover. Good gracious, what a weary-looking, thin fellow he is! But his holiday did him good, and his face was rapidly gaining a peaceful expression, which I hope it won't lose directly he sets to work again.'

'Oh no, that expression has come to stay!' Catherine replied, with a happy smile.

'What do you mean, you perplexing young woman? How can you possibly tell? Your Brian will begin to overwork himself again just as soon as he gets an opportunity. And unless he does, thanks to your united folly, you will never be able to get married.'

'Brian's peace doesn't come from any cause that can be taken away from him, dear Mrs. Arderne. Not even great fatigue, nor a breakdown in health could rob him of it.'

'Religion again, Catherine!'

'Yes; trust in G.o.d. Oh, I wish you would rejoice with me over Brian's new knowledge! I wish you would understand what true happiness is, you dearest of employers!'

Mrs. Arderne kissed the speaker, but shook her head.

'I've not a religious mind, Catherine. It refuses to concern itself chiefly with spiritual matters. The unseen thing called faith was always a mystery to me. Of course, G.o.d must exist, since we do, and the earth must have been made by Him; but if He wants us to love Him, He should manifest Himself to us.'

'So He does, in wonderful ways to those who seek Him. You would not have Him speak intimately to persons who will not listen for His voice? In countless mysteries He is always proving His power, in the things He has created; but human beings turn away their eyes from the evidences of His power and their own helplessness. Directly a soul begins to grope after the light, light comes in plenty. It is those souls which do not wish for faith which remain desolate for want of it!'

'No wonder, say I, that some do not wish for it, since its possession seems to entail upon them such extremes of self-sacrifice.'

Catherine pondered this remark, Mrs. Arderne watching her face meanwhile, and admiring the grace of her bended neck and the sweetness of her smile.

'Do you know, dear friend, I think all the better parts of ourselves are in great sympathy with self-sacrifice' (this was the outcome of her reflections), 'since love is the greatest joy we know, and love means preferring another's happiness to our own. If a man loves a comrade, he will go into dangers for his sake; if a woman loves her husband, even if he be unkind to her, she will spend her life in trying to make his happiness, and in shielding him from blame; and what will not some mothers give up for the sake of their children? This seems to me to be the truth of the matter--that self-sacrifice becomes happiness when it is founded upon sufficient love. No doubt happiness follows any renunciation for the sake of duty; but the other is the more human point of view.'

'And what lesson do you deduce from that truth, Catherine?' Mrs. Arderne was interested in the study of her companion's opinions.

'That love of G.o.d makes sweet and easy every sacrifice made for Him.

Christ, the great Model of self-renunciation, appeals for sympathy to the better self within each one of us--which was created in us--the breath of G.o.d in man. And it is only those who let G.o.d live within the soul, who do not hinder His work, who desire His guidance and control, who feel strong enough to be happy in a life which is all uncertainty.

The luckiest man in all the world may be destined for overwhelming misery and pain to-morrow; it is only the man whose happiness consists in obedience to G.o.d's will, and in hope for an eternity cf perfect joy, whose peace neither fear nor suffering _can_ overwhelm!'

'It is a pity that we do not have female clergy, my dear. If we did, you might become a popular preacher.'

'Oh, you are laughing at me! Am I too fond of talking about my opinions?

I was only trying my best to answer the questions you asked me.'

'Yes, I know. I like to listen to you, though I wish you were less convincing. My own life always looks a poor, dreary, selfish one, filled with perils I've no courage to face, and my longing to be braver always frets me, after I have heard some of your sermonettes, child. If great misery or suffering were to overwhelm me to-morrow, I don't know what I should do!'

'You would lay your burden upon the Saviour, would you not, you darling?'

'How could I, after ignoring His existence so long as my life was placid. Certainly He must be generous, or He would send trials at once to test me, and to prove His power.'