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CHAPTER VII. THE GARDEN OF HESPERIDES.

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"in a garden fair you met me,

and i told you all my woes.

then, in case you might forget me,

i bestowed on you a rose.

"love had captive to you brought me,

for i felt his arrow's smart;

so in mercy quick you sought me,

and bestowed on me a heart."

oh, wonderful! wonderful! and thrice wonderful was the soul of vicar clendon seeing that in this mummified body, battered by the assaults of sixty years, it still kept itself fresh and green in the very heyday of perennial youth. in spite of his grubbing among dusty books; in spite of the hardening process of continually celebrating marriages; in spite of the pessimistic ideas which come with old age, he could still feel sympathetic thrills when he heard the sighings of two lone lovers. he should have frowned and looked askance on such youthful foolery; he should have forgotten the days when plancus was consul, and he wooed amaryllis with bashful courtesy; he should have preached sermons a mile long on the sin of going to the temple of venus, but, strange to tell, he did not. this withered old husk encased a fresh young soul, and the venerable clergyman felt a boyish pleasure in the courting of these young men. is the age of miracles past, when such things can happen--when sober age can sympathize with frolic youth without pointing out the follies of the world, as seen telescopically from a distance of sixty years? no! oh, no! in spite of cynicism, and pessimism, and various other isms, all belonging to the same detestable class, there are still those among us whose souls bloom freshly, though cased in antique frames.

"your father," said archie maxwell, after making the acquaintance of the bookworm, "your father, toby, is a brick."

"my father," stated toby solemnly, "is not a brick, for a brick is hard, and the pater is anything but that. on the contrary, he is as soft as butter. if you wish to express approval of my progenitor, o quoter of slang, say that he is the ninth wonder of the world--which he is."

"and why, o utterer of dark sayings?"

"because he is an old man who can see his son in love without calling him a fool."

this was true, and toby appreciated the novelty of possessing such a father; demonstrating such appreciation by being a most attentive son, which exhilarated the old gentleman to such a degree that he became younger every day in appearance: thereby proving this saying of a forgotten sage to be true--

"the body takes its complexion from the soul, not the soul from the body."

archie maxwell, having at the cost of many lies postponed his trip to buenos ayres, has duly arrived, and, strange to say, the vicar takes a great fancy to him. after living for so many years with no other company than a rusty housekeeper and a library of rustier books, he is quite delighted at the presence of two young men in the house, and actually foregoes his after-dinner sleep in order to talk with them while they smoke their pipes. archie tells him all his history, of his travels, his struggles, his income, his aspirations, his love-affairs--in fact, everything about himself, and the old man's heart warms towards this handsome, graceless youth, who he sees has the makings of a fine man about him. he listens sympathetically to the endless catalogue of kaituna's charms, to the hopes and fears and heart-burnings which are part of the disease of love, and then undergoes the same thing in duplicate from toby. indeed, so genial is he that both the young men wax eloquent on the merits of their respective dulcineas, and spare him no detail, however small, of their perfections.

as to toby's suit, mr. clendon thinks it will prosper if thomasina is that way inclined, as mrs. valpy is a widow and would be only too glad to see her daughter in the safe keeping of such an excellent young man; but when questioned about archie's wooing, the sage is doubtful. he has seen sir rupert and thinks him haughty and supercilious--not at all the kind of man to bestow his daughter on a pauper engineer, however good his prospects. the best thing he can do is to bid archie wait and hope. if kaituna loves him, parental opposition may be overcome; but the course of true love never did run smooth, and archie must be prepared for trouble. but as gold is refined by passing through fire, so both these young lovers, if frizzled up in the furnace of affection, may benefit by the ordeal, and prove their mutual passions to be strong and enduring, whereas at present it may merely be the effect of juxtaposition and a desire to pass the time.

archie is horrified at this flippant view of the case being taken by venerable age, and vows by the stars, the moon--yea--by the heart of his sweet mistress, that the love he bears her is not of to-day or to-morrow, but of all time, and that nothing shall prevent him marrying the object of his passion, even if he should have to adopt that last resource of young lochinvar--a runaway marriage.

so things stand at present, and toby sends a note over to kaituna, asking permission to renew their acquaintance with her; then, without waiting for such permission to be granted--the note being a mere matter of form--sets off thornstream-wards with his friend archibald.

before they start on this errand of charity on the part of toby, and wooing on the part of archibald, the sage discourseth.

"you are going to seek the garden of hesperides, but there you will find no golden fruit. no; the dragons are better employed. they watch two beautiful maidens, and eye jealously wandering knights, such as yourselves, who would steal them. i am speaking not of the dragons, but of the maidens. nevertheless, from this quest i know not how you will return. the dragon who guards the princess of tobias is amenable to reason, and if the son succeeds in gaining the love of the princess the father may gain the consent of the dragon. but the other dragon, mr. maxwell, is a fire-breathing beast, and even if you succeed in overcoming this first danger your princess is still beyond your reach, because of her father. true, at present he is away, but when he returns, young man--oh, when he returns!"

"when he does it will be too late; for i shall have gained the heart of his daughter."

"true. when the steed is stolen it is useless to shut the stable-door. go, mr. maxwell, i see you have all the egotism and confidence of youth necessary to enable you to achieve this quest successfully."

so they went.

it was a bright summer day, and the sun shone brightly in a blue sky dappled with fleecy clouds. gently blew the wind through the trees, rustling their foliage, wherein sang the joyous birds. thrush and black-bird and ouzel and redcap piped gaily on the swaying boughs in very gladness of heart. at intervals there sounded the mellow voice of the cuckoo, and from the blue sky rained the song of the lark, invisible from the verdant earth. in the quaint gardens of thornstream manor bloomed the flowers--roses, roses everywhere in rich profusion, from pale cold buds to deeply crimsoned blossoms. a sudden flame of scarlet geraniums burns along the foot of the garden wall, and among their cool green leaves flash the orange circles of the marigolds. rosemary dark and sombre, old man, with its thin leaves like grey-green seaweed, form beds of reposeful tint, overlaid by brilliant coloured flowers, scarlet and blue and yellow; but the prevailing tint is white. foxgloves with delicate white bells round which hum the noisy bees--scattered clusters of pale flushed roses, other flowers with white petals all streaked and dappled and spotted with innumerable tints. a beautiful garden, truly, and the thievish wind stealing odours from the profusion of sweets carried them on languid wings to mrs. belswin and kaituna, sitting on the terrace.

they had erected a great japanese umbrella at one end, and were sitting beneath it in basket chairs. between them stood a small table, on which lay some feminine work and a yellow-backed novel, but neither the work nor the novel were in requisition, for both ladies were chatting to toby and archie, as they lounged near in their cool-looking gray suits. both gentlemen, by kind permission of the feminine half of the party, were smoking cigarettes, and mrs. belswin, knowing how it would shock kaituna, bravely suppressed a desire to have one also.

very handsome she looked in her dark dress, with a bunch of crimson poppies at her breast, but handsomer still looked kaituna, her pale olive face delicately flushed as she toyed with a heap of pale white blossoms, and talked gaily to archibald.

"i think instead of spoiling those flowers you might make me a button-hole," said the audacious archie in a small voice.

kaituna looked doubtful.

"you have a button-hole."

"one of my own gathering," he said, throwing it away. "no man can arrange flowers; now you being a woman----"

"can arrange them charmingly. don't pay me any more compliments, mr. maxwell."

"well, i won't, if you give me a button-hole."

"i have nothing here worth making up," said miss pethram, rising suddenly and letting all the flowers fall on the terrace. "come down with me to the garden. mrs. belswin, mr. maxwell and i are going to pick flowers."

"very well, dear," replied mrs. belswin, languidly, "i do not mind so long as i am not expected to come also."

"two's company," muttered toby softly.

"what did you say?" asked the chaperon quickly.

"oh, nothing.

"we'll leave you two here to talk," said kaituna, gaily. "come, mr. maxwell, you shall choose your own flowers."

they descended the steps into the garden.

"i'd rather you did so."

"i--oh, i should not know which to choose."

"then, suppose i suggest something. a red rose, which means love, and a white rose, which means silence."

"and the red and white roses together?"

"mean silent love."

"oh! i see you are versed in the language of flowers. does it form part of the education of an engineer?"

"no, but it does of every young man. thank you, miss pethram. two red roses and no white one, that means double love. the love of a girl for a boy, two buds; of a woman for a man, full blown blossoms."

"why do you not say the love of a man for a woman?"

"eh! ah, well you know, ladies first always. let me ask you to put these two red rosebuds in my coat."

kaituna hesitated a moment, and looked down at the green grass, seeking for some excuse. none feasible enough came into her mind, so, still with downcast eyes, she took the flowers from his outstretched hand and placed them in his coat. he was taller than she, and could just espy her face flushing under the broad-brimmed straw hat, and she must have felt the devouring passion of his eyes instinctively, for her hands busied with the flowers trembled.

"you have given me no white rose, i see," said archie, in an unsteady voice, "so i am not compelled to keep silence. may i speak?"

"no--no--oh, no!"

she had finished fastening those obstinate flowers with a pin, and they had revenged themselves by wounding her finger with a thorn.

"oh! oh!"

"miss pethram, what's the matter? oh, have you hurt your finger?"

"yes, but it's not very sore."

"why, it's bleeding," he cried in alarm, taking her hand; "let me bind my handkerchief round it."

"oh, no!"

"oh, yes! you must obey your doctor. there! that's better."

he still held her hand, and before she was aware of what he was doing, bent down suddenly and kissed it.

"oh!" she cried, blushing, "you must not do that."

"kaituna!"

"mr. maxwell! if you say another word i'll go back to my chaperon."

"but----"

"i won't hear another word! so there!"

archie looked down disconsolately, not knowing what to say, when suddenly he heard a gay laugh in the distance, and on raising his head saw a white figure flitting away across the lawn towards the sun-dial. he hesitated a moment, and then laughed softly.

"faint heart never won fair lady."

certainly nobody could accuse archie maxwell of being faint-hearted, for he ran after his sweet enemy with the utmost courage. when he reached her she was standing by the sun-dial, and the two spectators on the terrace saw the two actors suddenly appear on the stage. one spectator--a woman--frowned; the other--a man--laughed.

"don't go, mrs. belswin," said toby, seeing she was about to rise. "we are having such a jolly conversation."

"that's a very artful remark, but it doesn't deceive me."

"artful! i assure you, mrs. belswin, i am the most unsophisticated of men--a perfect child!"

"so i should judge from your description of london life," said mrs. belswin, drily, leaning back in her chair. "but perhaps you are not aware, mr. clendon, that i am miss pethram's chaperon?"

"happy miss pethram. i wish you were mine."

"i'm afraid the task of keeping you in order would be beyond my powers."

"do you think so?" observed toby, sentimentally. he was a young man who would have flirted with his grandmother in default of any one better, and mrs. belswin being a handsome woman, this fickle youth improved the shining hours. mrs. belswin, however, saw through him with ease, not having gone through the world without learning something of the male sex, so she laughed gaily, and turned the conversation with feminine tact.

"you are a good friend, mr. clendon."

"i am! i am everything that is good!"

"your trumpeter is dead, i see."

"yes, poor soul! he died from overwork."

mrs. belswin laughed again at toby's verbal dexterity, and then began to talk about maxwell, which was the subject nearest her heart. the lady wished to know all about archie's position, so as to see if he was a suitable lover for kaituna, and the man being a firm friend of the love-lorn swain, lied calmly, with that great ease which only comes from long experience.

"mr. maxwell is a great friend of yours, isn't he?"

"oh, yes! we were boys together,"

"you're not much more now. what is his profession?"

"he's an engineer! awfully clever. he'd have invented the steam-engine if stephenson hadn't been before him."

"would he indeed? what a pity he wasn't born before the age of steam. by the way, how is he getting on in his profession?"

"splendidly! he's been in china, building railways, and at the end of the year he's going out to buenos ayres to build a bridge."

"he's got no money, i suppose?"

"well, no! he's not rich; but he's got great expectations."

"has he? but you can't marry on great expectations."

"no; i can't, but archie can."

"indeed! you forget there are always two people to a bargain of marriage."

"there's double the number in this case."

"how so?"

"there's archie, miss pethram, mrs. belswin, and sir rupert pethram."

there was a pause after this, as the lady was pondering over the situation. toby had his eyes fastened on the two figures at the dial, and he smiled. mrs. belswin, looking up suddenly, caught him smiling, and spoke sharply--

"mr. clendon! i believe you to be a sensible man. if my belief is correct, stop laughing and listen to me."

toby became as serious as a judge at once.

"i am not blind," continued mrs. belswin, looking at him, "and i can see plainly what is going on. as you know, i am responsible to sir rupert pethram for his daughter's well-being, and this sort of thing won't do."

"what sort of thing?" asked toby, innocently.

"oh, you know well enough. mr. maxwell making love to my charge is ridiculous. sir rupert would never consent to his daughter marrying a poor engineer, and i'm not going to have kaituna's happiness marred for a foolish love-affair."

"but what can i do?"

"discontinue your visits here, and tell your friend to do the same."

"he won't do what i ask him."

"then i'll take kaituna away."

"it's no use. he'll follow. archie's the most obstinate fellow in the world, and he's too much in love with miss pethram to give her up without a struggle. why, do you know, mrs. belswin, he gave up a good billet at buenos ayres because it would have taken him away from her."

"i thought you said he was going out there at the end of the year?"

"so he is. but it's not half such a good billet. the one he has given up is worth two hundred pounds a year more."

"and he gave it up for the sake of kaituna?"

"yes! he's madly in love with her."

"he was very foolish to jeopardise his success in life because of a love-affair, particularly when nothing can come of it."

"but why shouldn't anything come of it? i'm sure you will be a friend to these lovers."

"these lovers," repeated mrs. belswin jealously. "do you think kaituna loves him."

"i'm sure of it."

"you seem very learned in love, mr. clendon; perhaps you are in love yourself."

a blush that had been absent for years crept into the bronze of toby's cheeks.

"perhaps i am. i may as well tell the truth and shame the----

"mr. clendon!"

"oh, you understand. i am in love, so is archie. he loves your charge; i love another girl. be a kind, good friend, mrs. belswin, and help archie to make miss pethram mrs. maxwell."

"what about sir rupert?"

"oh, you can persuade him, i'm sure."

mrs. belswin frowned.

"i have no influence with sir rupert," she said shortly, and rose to her feet. "come with me, mr. clendon, and we will go to kaituna."

"you won't help them?"

"i can't, i tell you," she replied impatiently. "from all i can see, your friend seems a true-hearted man, but i shall have to know him a long time before i can say he is fit for my--for miss pethram. but even if i approve it is of no use. sir rupert is the person to give his consent."

"well?"

"and he'll never give it."

toby felt depressed at this, and followed mrs. belswin meekly to the couple at the sun-dial. the said couple, both nervous and flushed, to all appearances having been talking--chinese metaphysics.

"kaituna, don't you think these gentlemen would like some afternoon tea?" said mrs. belswin sweetly.

"i dare say they would," replied kaituna with great composure. "what do you say, mr. clendon?"

she did not address herself to archie, who stood sulkily by the dial following the figures with his finger. toby glanced from one to the other, saw they were both embarrassed, and promptly made up his mind how to act.

"i'm afraid we won't have time, miss pethram," he, replied, glancing at his watch. "it's nearly four, and we have some distance to walk."

"well, if you won't have tea you will take a glass of wine," said mrs. belswin, looking at archie; then, without waiting for a reply, she made him follow her, and walked towards the house.

toby followed with kaituna, and surely never were maid or man more unsuited to each other. he was bold, she was shy. he talked, she remained silent, till they were in the drawing-room, and then the feminine element broke forth.

"mr. clendon," she said, in a whisper.

"yes! speak low if you speak love."

"what do you mean?"

"it's not mine. it's shakespeare's. by the way, you wanted to say something."

"i do! tell him i didn't mean it."

she flitted away and toby gasped.

"tell who? didn't mean what? things are getting mixed. thank you, i'll take a glass of sherry."

how we all act in this world. here were four people, each with individual ideas regarding the situation, and yet they chatted about the weather, the crops, the country--about everything except what they were thinking about. mrs. belswin and toby did most of the talking, but kaituna and archie put in a word every now and then for the sake of appearances.

at last the young men took their departure, and when left alone with kaituna, mrs. belswin drew her caressingly to her breast.

"i like your prince, my dear."

"i don't."

"oh, kaituna, you've been quarrelling."

"i haven't! he has! he doesn't understand me."

"does a man ever understand a woman?"

"of course! if he loves her."

"then in this case there ought to be no misunderstanding, for i am sure he loves you."

"oh, do you think so? do you really think so?"

"my dear," said mrs. belswin, as the girl hid her face on the breast of the chaperon, "i am quick at judging a man. all women are. it's instinct. i think mr. maxwell an honourable young fellow, and very charming. he would make you a good husband, but your father will never consent to your marrying a poor man."

"oh, you don't know papa."

"don't i?" said mrs. belswin grimly, and closed the discussion.

this was one side of the question--and the other?

"we have," said archie, in deep despair, "been to the garden of hesperides, and the dragon has beaten us?"

"have you quarrelled with your mash?" asked toby, leaving allegory for common sense.

"my mash! toby, you are growing vulgar. i did not quarrel with kaituna, but we had words."

"several hundred, i should think. what was the row?"

"how coarse you are!" said the refined archie. "there was no row. i spoke of myself in the third person."

"when there are only two people, and those are of the opposite sex, you shouldn't introduce a third person. well, what did you say?"

"i asked her whether she would accept a poor man if he proposed to her."

"and she said?"

"she said 'no.'"

archie's face was tragic in its deep gloom, so toby comforted him.

"old boy!"

"yes," said the despairing lover.

"she said she didn't mean it."

"what! did she say that to you?"

"yes."

"toby," cried archie, with great fervour, "i love that girl!"

"so you've said a hundred times."

"and i'll marry her!"

"oh, will you?" said toby, grinning. "i can paint your future: a little cottage, a nice income, a charming girl----"

"yes, yes!"

"don't you wish you may get it?"

"oh, toby, if you only knew----"

"i do know. i know all about it, so don't rhapsodise. and i know another thing; i'm hungry, so hurry up."

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