Heartsease | Page 9

home. 'There is one picture I like above all, but that is a
sacred subject, so no wonder it should have that feeling in it.'
'What is it?'
'It is a Madonna,' she said, lowering her voice. 'A stiff old- fashioned
one, in beautiful, bright, clear colouring. The Child is reaching out to
embrace a little cross, and his Mother holds him towards it with such a
sad but such a holy face, as if she foreboded all, and was ready to bear
it.'
'Ah! that Ghirlandajo?'
'That is the name!' cried Violet, enchanted. 'Have you seen it?'
'I saw Lord St. Erme buy it.'
'Do you know Lord St. Erme?' said Violet, rather awe-struck.
'I used to meet him in Italy.'
'We wish so much that he would come home. We do so want to see a
poet.'
John smiled. 'Is he never at home?'
'O, no, he has never been at Wrangerton since his father died, twelve
years ago. He does not like the place, so he only comes to London
when he is in England, and papa goes up to meet him on business, but
he is too poetical to attend to it.'
'I should guess that.'

'I have done wrong, said Violet, checking herself; 'I should not have
said that. Mamma told us that we ought never to chatter about his
concerns. Will you, please, not remember that I said it?'
As far as the outer world is concerned, I certainly will not,' said John
kindly. 'You cannot too early learn discretion. So that picture is at
Wrangerton?'
'I am so glad you liked it.'
'I liked it well enough to wish for a few spare hundreds, but it seems to
have afforded no more pleasure to him than it has given to me. I am
glad it is gone where there is some one who can appreciate it.'
'Oh, said Violet,' Matilda knows all about the best pictures. We don't
appreciate, you know, we only like.'
'And your chief liking is for that one?'
'It is more than liking,' said Violet; 'I could call it loving. It is almost
the same to me as Helvellyn. Annette and I went to the house for one
look more my last evening at home. I must tell her that you have seen
it!' and the springing steps grew so rapid, that her companion had to say,
'Don't let me detain you, I am obliged to go gently up-hill.' She checked
her steps, abashed, and presently, with a shy but very pretty action, held
out her arm, saying timidly, 'Would it help you to lean on me? I ought
not to have brought you this steep way. Matilda says I skurry like a
school-girl.'
He saw it would console her to let her think herself of service and
accepted of the slender prop for the few steps that remained. He then
went up-stairs to write letters, but finding no ink, came to the
drawing-room to ask her for some. She had only her own inkstand,
which was supplying her letter to Annette, and he sat down at the
opposite side of the table to share it. Her pen went much faster than his.
'Clifton Terrace, Winchester,' and 'My dear father--I came here
yesterday, and was most agreeably surprised,' was all that he had
indited, when he paused to weigh what was his real view of the merits

of the case, and ponder whether his present feeling was sober judgment,
or the novelty of the bewitching prettiness of this innocent and gracious
creature. There he rested, musing, while from her pen flowed a
description of her walk and of Mr. Martindale's brother. 'If they are all
like him, I shall be perfectly happy,' she wrote. 'I never saw any one so
kind and considerate, and so gentle; only now and then he frightens me,
with his politeness, or perhaps polish is the right word, it makes me feel
myself rude and uncourteous and awkward. You said nothing gave you
so much the notion of high-breeding as Mr. Martindale's ease,
especially when he pretended to be rough and talk slang, it was like
playing at it. Now, his brother has the same, without the funny
roughness, but the greatest gentleness, and a good deal of quiet sadness.
I suppose it is from his health, though he is much better now: he still
coughs, and he moves slowly and leans languidly, as if he was not
strong. He is not so tall as his brother, and much slighter in make, and
fairer complexioned, with gray eyes and brown hair, and he looks
sallow and worn and thin, with such white long hands.'
Here raising her eyes to verify her description, she encountered those of
its subject, evidently taking a survey of her for the