Page:ONCE A WEEK JUL TO DEC 1860.pdf/264

256 He told Mr. Goren so, and Mr. Goren said:

“Some day we’ll jog down there together, as the saying goes.”

Mr. Goren spoke of it as an ordinary event, likely to happen in the days to come: not as an incident the mere mention of which as being probable, stopped the breath and made the pulses leap.

For now Evan’s education taught him to feel that he was at his lowest degree. Never now could Rose stoop to him. He carried the shop on his back. She saw the brand of it on his forehead. Well! and what was Rose to him, beyond a blissful memory, a star that he had once touched? Self-love kept him strong by day, but in the darkness of night came his misery: wakening from tender dreams, he would find his heart sinking under a horrible pressure, and then the fair fresh face of Rose swam over him; the hours of Beckley were revived; with intolerable anguish he saw that she was blameless—that he alone was to blame. Yet worse was it when his closed eye-lids refused to conjure up the sorrowful lovely nightmare, and he lay like one in a trance, entombed—wretched Pagan! feeling all that had been blindly: when the Past lay beside him like a corpse that he had slain.

These nightly torments helped him to brave what the morning brought. Insensibly also, as Time hardened his sufferings, Evan asked himself what the shame of his position consisted in. He grew stiff-necked. His Pagan virtues stood up one by one to support him. Andrew, courageously evading the interdict that forbade him to visit Evan, would meet him by appointment at City taverns, and flatly offered him a place in the brewery. Evan declined it, on the pretext that, having received old Tom’s money for the year, he must at least work out that term according to the conditions. Andrew fumed and sneered at Tailordom. Evan said that there was peace in Mr. Goren’s shop. His sharp senses discerned in Andrew’s sneer a certain sincerity, and he revolted against it. Mr. John Raikes, too, burlesqued society so well, that he had the satisfaction of laughing at his enemy occasionally. The latter gentleman was still a pensioner, flying about town with the Countess de Saldar, in deadly fear lest that fascinating lady should discover the seat of his fortune; happy, notwithstanding. In the mirror of Evan’s little world, he beheld the great one from which he was banished.

Now the dusk of a winter’s afternoon was closing over London, when a carriage drew up in front of Mr. Goren’s shop, out of which, to Mr. Goren’s chagrin, a lady stepped, with her veil down. The lady entered, and said that she wished to speak to Mr. Harrington. Mr. Goren made way for her to his pupil; and was amazed to see her fall into his arm, and hardly gratified to hear her say: “Pardon me, darling, for coming to you in this place.”

Evan asked permission to occupy the parlour.

“My place,” said Mr. Goren, with humble severity, over his spectacles, “is very poor. Such as it is, it is at the lady’s service.”

Alone together, Evan was about to ease his own feelings by remarking to the effect that Mr. Goren was human like the rest of us, but Caroline cried, with unwonted vivacity:

“Yes, yes, I know; but I thought only of you. I have such news for you! You will and must pardon my coming—that’s my first thought, sensitive darling that you are!” She kissed him fondly. “Juliana Bonner is in town, staying with us!”

“Is that your news?” asked Evan, pressing her against his breast.

“No, dear love—but still! You have no idea what her fortune—Mrs. Bonner has died and left her—but I mustn’t tell you. Oh, my darling! how she admires you! She—she could recompense you; if you would! We will put that by, for the present. Dear! the Duke has begged you, through me, to accept—I think it’s to be a sort of bailiff to his estates—I don’t know rightly. It’s a very honourable post, that gentlemen take: and the income you are to have, Evan, will be near a thousand a-year. Now, what do I deserve for my news?”

She put up her mouth for another kiss, out of breath.

“True?” looked Evan’s eyes.

“True!” she said, smiling, and feasting on his bewilderment.

After the bubbling in his brain had a little subsided, Evan breathed as a man on whom fresh air is blown. Were not these tidings of release? His ridiculous pride must nevertheless inquire whether Caroline had been begging this for him.

“No, dear—indeed!” Caroline asserted with more than natural vehemence. “It’s something that you yourself have done that has pleased him. I don’t know what. Only he says, he believes you are a man to be trusted with the keys of anything—and so you are. You are to call on him to-morrow? Will you?”

While Evan was replying, her face became white. She had heard the Major’s voice in the shop. His military step advanced, and Caroline, exclaiming “Don’t let me see him!” bustled to a door. Evan nodded, and she slipped through. The next moment he was facing the stiff marine.

“Well, young man,” the Major commenced, and, seating himself, added, “be seated. I want to talk to you seriously, sir. You didn’t think fit to wait till I had done with the Directors to-day. You’re devilishly out in your discipline, whatever you are at two and two. I suppose there’s no fear of being intruded on here? None of your acquaintances likely to be introducing themselves to me?”

“There is not one that I would introduce to you,” said Evan.

The Major nodded a brief recognition of the compliment, and then, throwing his back against the chair, fired out: “Come, sir, is this your doing?”

In military phrase, Evan now changed front. His first thought had been that the Major had come for his wife. He perceived that he himself was the special object of the visitation.

“I must ask you what you allude to,” he answered.

“You are not at your office, but you will speak to me as if there were some distinction between us,” said the Major. “My having married