Page:Once a Week, Series 1, Volume II Dec 1859 to June 1860.pdf/585

572 which now made poor Pat hang out his tongue, and agitate his crisp brown curls, was the performance of the “down-charge;” a ceremony demanding implicit obedience from the animal in the midst of volatile gambadoes, and a simulation of profound repose when his desire to be up and bounding was mighty. Pat’s Irish eyes were watching Rose, as he lay with his head couched between his fore-paws in the required attitude. He had but half learnt his lesson, and something in his half-humorous half-melancholy look talked to Rose more eloquently than her friend Ferdinand at her elbow. Laxley was her assistant dog-breaker. Rose would not abandon her friends because she had accepted a lover. On the contrary, Rose was very kind to Ferdinand, and perhaps felt bound to be so to-day. To-day, also, her face was lighted very sweetly. A readiness to colour, and an expression of deeper knowledge which she now had, made the girl dangerous to friends. This was not Rose’s fault: but there is no doubt among the faculty that love is a contagious disease, and we ought not to come within a thousand miles of the creatures in whom it lodges.

Pat’s tail kept hinting to his mistress that a change would afford him great satisfaction. After a time she withdrew her wistful gaze from him, and listened entirely to Ferdinand; and it struck her that he spoke particularly well to-day, though she did not see so much in his eyes as in Pat’s. The subject concerned his departure, and he asked Rose if she should be sorry. Rose, to make him sure of it, threw a music into her voice dangerous to friends. For she had given heart and soul to Evan, and had a sense, therefore, of being irredeemably in debt to her old associates, and wished to be doubly kind to them.

Pat took advantage of the diversion to stand up quietly and have a shake. He then began to kiss his mistress’s hand to show that all was right on both sides; and followed this with a playful pretence at a bite, that there might be no subsequent misunderstanding, and then a bark and a whine. As no attention was paid to this amount of plain-speaking, Pat made a bolt. He got no farther than the length of the whip, and all he gained was to bring on himself the terrible word of drill once more. But Pat had tasted liberty. Irish rebellion against constituted authority was exhibited. Pat would not: his ears tossed over his head, and he jumped to right and left, and looked the raggedest rapparee that ever his ancestry trotted after. Rose laughed at his fruitless efforts to get free; but Ferdinand meditatively appeared to catch a sentiment in them.

“Down charge, sir, will you? Ah, Pat! Pat! You’ll have to obey me, my boy. Now, down charge!”

While Rose addressed the language of reason to Pat, Ferdinand slipped in a soft word or two. Presently she saw him on one knee.

“Pat won’t, and I will,” said he.

“But Pat shall, and you had better not,” said she. “Besides, my dear Ferdinand,” she added, laughing, “you don’t know how to do it.”

“Do you want me prostrate on all fours, Rose?”

“No. I hope not. Do get up, Ferdinand. You’ll be seen from the windows.”

Instead of quitting his posture, he caught her hand, and scared her with a declaration.

“Of all men, you to be on your knees! and to me, Ferdinand!” she cried, in utter discomfort.

“Why shouldn’t I, Rose?” was this youth’s answer.

He had somehow got the idea that foreign cavalier manners would take with her; but it was not so easy to make his speech correspond with his posture, and he lost his opportunity, which was pretty. However, he spoke plain English. The interview ended by Rose releasing Pat from drill, and running off in a hurry. Where was Evan? She must have his consent to speak to her mother and prevent a recurrence of these silly scenes.

Evan was with Caroline, his sister. After Mr. Raikes had driven off, he was coming back to Rose, but seeing Laxley at her side, the lover retired. Evan could not understand why Rose had pressed Laxley to remain and assist her with the dogs. He was half jealous: not from any doubt of Rose: from mere lover’s wilfulness and despotism. Rose certainly gave Laxley most of the messages; she made him fetch and carry, and be out of the way beautifully; but then also she gave him bright smiles; she spent her divine breath on him; and once or twice he touched her!

It was contrary to the double injunction of the Countess that Caroline should receive Evan during her absence, or that he should disturb the dear invalid with a visit. These two were not unlike both in organisation and character, and they had not sat together long before they found each other out. Now, to further Evan’s love-suit, the Countess had induced Caroline to continue yet awhile in the Purgatory Beckley Court had become to her; but Evan, in speaking of Rose, expressed a determination to leave her, and Caroline caught at it.

“Can you?—will you? Oh, dear, Van! have you the courage? I—look at me—you know the home I go to, and—and I think of it here as a place to be happy in. What have our marriages done for us? Better that we had married simple, stupid men who earn their bread, and would not have been ashamed of us! And, my dearest, it is not only that. None can tell what our temptations are. Louisa has strength, but I feel I have none; and though, dear, for your true interest, I would indeed sacrifice myself—I would, Van! I would!—it is not good for you to stay,—I know it is not. For you have Papa’s sense of honour—and, Oh! if you should learn to despise me, my dear brother!”

She kissed him convulsively. Her nerves were agitated by strong mental excitement. He attributed it to her recent attack of illness, but could not help asking, while he caressed her:

“What’s that? Despise you?”

It may have been that Caroline felt then, that to speak of something was to forfeit something. A light glimmered across the dewy blue of her beautiful eyes. Desire to breathe it to him, and have his loving aid: the fear of forfeiting it, evil as it