Those lips that Love's own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said, "I hate,"To me that languished for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that, ever sweet, Was used in giving gentle doom, And taught it thus anew to greet:
"I hate" she altered with an end, That followed it as gentle day Doth follow night, who, like a fiend, >From heaven to hell is flown away.
"I hate" from hate away she threw, And saved my life, saying--"Not you."SHAKSPERE.
Mr. Arnold was busy at home for a few days after this, and Hugh and Harry had to go out alone. One day, when the wind was rather cold, they took refuge in the barn; for it was part of Hugh's especial care that Harry should be rendered hardy, by never being exposed to more than he could bear without a sense of suffering. As soon as the boy began to feel fatigue, or cold, or any other discomfort, his tutor took measures accordingly.
Harry would have crept into the straw-house; but Hugh said, pulling a book out of his pocket, "I have a poem here for you, Harry. I want to read it to you now;and we can't see in there."
They threw themselves down on the straw, and Hugh, opening a volume of Robert Browning's Poems, read the famous ride from Ghent to Aix.
He knew the poem well, and read it well. Harry was in raptures.
"I wish I could read that as you do," said he.
"Try," said Hugh.
Harry tried the first verse, and threw the book down in disgust with himself.
"Why cannot I read it?" said he.
"Because you can't ride."
"I could ride, if I had such a horse as that to ride upon.""But you could never have such a horse as that except you could ride, and ride well, first. After that, there is no saying but you might get one. You might, in fact, train one for yourself--till from being a little foal it became your own wonderful horse.""Oh! that would be delightful! Will you teach me horses as well, Mr. Sutherland?""Perhaps I will."
That evening, at dinner, Hugh said to Mr. Arnold:
"Could you let me have a horse to-morrow morning, Mr. Arnold?"Mr. Arnold stared a little, as he always did at anything new. But Hugh went on:
"Harry and I want to have a ride to-morrow; and I expect we shall like it so much, that we shall want to ride very often.""Yes, that we shall!" cried Harry.
"Could not Mr. Sutherland have your white mare, Euphra?" said Mr. Arnold, reconciled at once to the proposal.
"I would rather not, if you don't mind, uncle. My Fatty is not used to such a burden as I fear Mr. Sutherland would prove. She drops a little now, on the hard road."The fact was, Euphra would want Fatima.
"Well, Harry," said Mr. Arnold, graciously pleased to be facetious, "don't you think your Welsh dray-horse could carry Mr. Sutherland?""Ha! ha! ha! Papa, do you know, Mr. Sutherland set him up on his hind legs yesterday, and made him walk on them like a dancing-dog.
He was going to lift him, but he kicked about so when he felt himself leaving the ground, that he tumbled Mr. Sutherland into the horse-trough."Even the solemn face of the butler relaxed into a smile, but Mr. Arnold's clouded instead. His boy's tutor ought to be a gentleman.
"Wasn't it fun, Mr. Sutherland?"
"It was to you, you little rogue!" said Sutherland, laughing.
"And how you did run home, dripping like a water-cart!--and all the dogs after you!"Mr. Arnold's monotonous solemnity soon checked Harry's prattle.
"I will see, Mr. Sutherland, what I can do to mount you.""I don't care what it is," said Hugh; who though by no means a thorough horseman, had been from boyhood in the habit of mounting everything in the shape of a horse that he could lay hands upon, from a cart-horse upwards and downwards.
"There's an old bay that would carry me very well.""That is my own horse, Mr. Sutherland."
This stopped the conversation in that direction. But next morning after breakfast, an excellent chestnut horse was waiting at the door, along with Harry's new pony. Mr. Arnold would see them go off. This did not exactly suit Miss Cameron, but if she frowned, it was when nobody saw her. Hugh put Harry up himself, told him to stick fast with his knees, and then mounted his chestnut. As they trotted slowly down the avenue, Euphrasia heard Mr. Arnold say to himself, "The fellow sits well, at all events." She took care to make herself agreeable to Hugh by reporting this, with the omission of the initiatory epithet, however.
Harry returned from his ride rather tired, but in high spirits.
"Oh, Euphra!" he cried, "Mr. Sutherland is such a rider! He jumps hedges and ditches and everything. And he has promised to teach me and my pony to jump too. And if I am not too tired, we are to begin to-morrow, out on the common. Oh! jolly!"The little fellow's heart was full of the sense of growing life and strength, and Hugh was delighted with his own success. He caught sight of a serpentine motion in Euphra's eyebrows, as she bent her face again over the work from which she had lifted it on their entrance. He addressed her.
"You will be glad to hear that Harry has ridden like a man.""I am glad to hear it, Harry."
Why did she reply to the subject of the remark, and not to the speaker? Hugh perplexed himself in vain to answer this question;but a very small amount of experience would have made him able to understand at once as much of her behaviour as was genuine. At luncheon she spoke only in reply; and then so briefly, as not to afford the smallest peg on which to hang a response.
"What can be the matter?" thought Hugh. "What a peculiar creature she is! But after what has passed between us, I can't stand this."When dinner was over that evening, she rose as usual and left the room, followed by Hugh and Harry; but as soon as they were in the drawing-room, she left it; and, returning to the dining-room, resumed her seat at the table.
"Take a glass of claret, Euphra, dear?" said Mr. Arnold.