"Yes, of course. I can"t see _you_ kneeling all night with a white robe on, Father, in prayer before an altar. But tell me, would they have made you a baronet if you hadn"t given the subscription?"
Sir John chuckled till his great form shook--he had grown very stout of late years.
"I think you are sharp enough to answer that question for yourself. I have observed, Isobel, that you know as much of the world as most young girls of your age."
"So you bought the thing," she exclaimed with a flash of her grey eyes.
"I thought that honours were given because they were earned."
"Did you?" said Sir John, chuckling again. "Well, now you know better.
Look here, Isobel, don"t be a fool. Honours, or most of them, like other things, are for those who can pay for them in this way or that.
n.o.body bothers how they come so long as they _do_ come. Now, listen.
Unfortunately, as a girl, you can"t inherit this t.i.tle. But it doesn"t matter much, since it will be easy for you to get one for yourself."
Isobel turned red and uttered an exclamation, but enjoining silence on her with a wave of his fat hand, her father went on:
"I haven"t done so badly, my dear, considering my chances. I don"t mind telling you that I am a rich man now, indeed a very rich man as things go, and I shall be much richer, for nothing pays like ships, especially if you man them with foreign crews. Also I am a Bart," and he pointed to the pile of newspapers on the floor, "and if my Party gets in again, before long I shall be a Lord, which would make you an Honourable.
Anyway, my girl, although you ain"t exactly a beauty," here he considered her with a critical eye, "you"ll make a fine figure of a woman and with your money, you should be able to get any husband you like. What"s more," and he banged his fist upon the table, "I expect you to do it; that"s your part of the family business. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Father, that you expect me to get any husband I like.
Well, I"ll promise that."
"I think you ought to come into the office, you are so smart," replied Sir John with sarcasm. "But don"t you try it on me, for I"m smarter.
You know very well that I mean any husband _I_ like, when I say "any husband you like." Now do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Isobel icily. "I understand that you want to buy me a husband as you have bought a t.i.tle. Well, t.i.tles and husbands are alike in one thing; once taken you can never be rid of them day or night. So I"ll say at once, to save trouble afterwards, that I would rather earn my living as a farm girl, and as for your money, Father, you can do what you wish with it."
Then looking him straight in the eyes, she turned and left the room.
"An odd child!" thought Sir John to himself as he stared after her.
"Anyway, she has got spirit and no doubt will come all right in time when she learns what"s what."
CHAPTER III
THE PLANTAGENET LADY
In the course of these years of adolescence, G.o.dfrey Knight had developed into a rather unusual stamp of youth. In some ways he was clever, for instance at the cla.s.sics and history which he had always liked; in others and especially where figures were concerned, he was stupid, or as his father called him, idle. In company he was apt to be shy and dull, unless some subject interested him, when to the astonishment of those present, he would hold forth and show knowledge and powers of reflection beyond his years. By nature he was intensely proud; the one thing he never forgot was a rebuff, or forgave, was an insult. Sir John Blake soon found this out, and not liking the lad, whose character was antagonistic to his own in every way, never lost an opportunity of what he called "putting him in his place," perhaps because something warned him that this awkward, handsome boy would become a stumbling-block to his successful feet.
G.o.dfrey and Isobel were both great readers. Nor did they lack for books, for as it chanced there was a good library at Hawk"s Hall, which had been formed by the previous owner and taken over like the pictures, when Mr. Blake bought the house. Also it was added to constantly, as an order was given to a large London bookseller to supply all the important new works that came out. Although he never opened a book himself, Sir John liked to appear intellectual by displaying them about the rooms for the benefit of his visitors. These publications Isobel read and lent to G.o.dfrey; indeed they perused a great deal which young people generally are supposed to leave alone, and this in various schools of thought, including those that are known as "free."
It was seldom that such studies led to unanimity between them, but to argument, which sharpened their intellects, they did lead, followed invariably by a charitable agreement to differ.
About the time of the addition of the name of John Blake to the roll of British Chivalry, a book on Mars came their way--it was one by a speculative astronomer which suggests that the red planet is the home of reasoning beings akin to humanity. Isobel read it and was not impressed. Indeed, in the vigorous language of youth, she opined that it was all "made-up rot."
G.o.dfrey read it also and came to quite a different conclusion. The idea fired him and opened a wide door in his imagination, a quality with which he was well provided. He stared at Mars through the large Hall telescope, and saw, or imagined that he saw the ca.n.a.ls, also the snow-caps and the red herbage. Isobel stared too and saw, or swore that she saw--nothing at all--after which they argued until their throats were dry.
"It"s all nonsense," said Isobel. "If only you"ll study the rocks and biology, and Darwin"s "Origin of Species," and lots of other things, you will see how man came to develop on this planet. He is just an accident of Nature, that"s all."
"And why shouldn"t there be an accident of Nature on Mars and elsewhere?" queried G.o.dfrey.
"Perhaps, but if so, it is quite another accident and has nothing to do with us."
"I don"t know," he answered. "Sometimes," here his voice became dreamy as it had a way of doing, "I think that we pa.s.s on, all of us, from star to star. At least I know I often feel as if I had done so."
"You mean from planet to planet, G.o.dfrey; stars are hot places, you know. You should not swallow all that theosophical bosh which is based on nothing."
"There"s the Bible," went on G.o.dfrey, "which tells us the same thing, that we live eternally----"
"Then we must always have lived, since eternity is a circle."
"Why not, Isobel? That is what I was trying to say. Well, if we live eternally, we must live somewhere, perhaps in those planets, or others, which it would be a waste to keep empty."
"I daresay--though Nature does not mind waste, or what seems to be waste. But why should you think of living eternally at all? Many people live a great deal too long as it is, and it is horrible to believe that they go on for ever."
"You see they might grow to something splendid in the end, Isobel. You must not judge them by what they are now."
"Oh! I know, the caterpillar and the b.u.t.terfly, and all the rest of it."
"The Bible"--continued G.o.dfrey imperturbably--when she cut him short.
"Well, what of the Bible? How do you know that it is true?"
"Because I do know it, though the truth in it may be different for everyone. What is more, I know that one day you will agree with me."
She looked at him curiously in the flashing way that was peculiar to her, for something in his tone and manner impressed her.
"Perhaps. I hope so, G.o.dfrey, but at present I often feel as though I believed in nothing, except that I am I and you are you, and my father is--there he"s calling me. Goodbye," and she was gone.
This particular conversation, one of many, had, as it happened, important results on the lives of these two young creatures. Isobel, in whom the love of Truth, however ugly it might be and however destructive of hope, faith, charity and all the virtues, was a burning, inbred pa.s.sion, took to the secret study of theology in order to find out why G.o.dfrey was so convinced as to the teachings of the Bible. She was not old or mellowed enough to understand that the real reason must be discovered, not in the letter but in the spirit, that is in the esoteric meaning of the sayings as to receiving the Kingdom of Heaven like a child and the necessity of being born again. Therefore with a fierce intensity, thrusting aside the spirit and its promptings which perhaps are shadows of the only real truths, she wrestled with the letter. She read the Divines, also much of the Higher Criticism, the lives of Saints, the Sacred Books themselves and many other things, only to arise bewildered, and to a great extent unbelieving.
"Why should I believe what I cannot prove?" she cried in her heart, and once with her lips to G.o.dfrey.
He made her a very wise answer, although at the moment it did not strike either of them in that light.
"When you tell me of anything that you can really prove, I will show you why," he said. To this he added a suggestion that was most unwise, namely, that she should consult his father.
Now Mr. Knight was, it is true, a skilled theologian of a certain, narrow school and learned in his way. It is probable, however, that in all the wide world it would have been difficult to find any man less sympathetic to a mind like Isobel"s or more likely to antagonize her eager and budding intelligence. Every doubt he met with intolerant denial; every argument with offensive contradiction; every query with references to texts.
Finally, he lost his temper, for be it acknowledged, that this girl was persistent, far from humble, and in a way as dogmatic as himself. He told her that she was not a Christian, and in her wrath she agreed with him. He said that she had no right to be in church. She replied that if this were so she would not come and, her father being indifferent upon the point (Lady Jane did not count in such matters), ceased her attendance. It was the old story of a strait-minded bigot forcing a large-minded doubter out of the fold that ought to have been wide enough for both of them. Moreover, this difference of opinion on matters of public and spiritual interest ended in a private and mundane animosity. Mr. Knight could never forgive a pupil of his own, whose ability he recognized, who dared to question his pontifical announcements. To him the matter was personal rather than one of religious truth, for there are certain minds in whose crucibles everything is resolved individually, and his was one of them. He was the largest matters through his own special and highly-magnifying spectacles. So, to be brief, they quarrelled once and for all, and thenceforward never attempted to conceal their cordial dislike of each other.
Such was one result of this unlucky discussion as to the exact conditions of the planet Mars, G.o.d of war. Another was that G.o.dfrey developed a strong interest in the study of the heavenly bodies and when some domestic debate arose as to his future career, announced with mild firmness that he intended to be an astronomer. His father, to whom the heavenly bodies were less than the dust beneath his human feet and who believed in his heart that they had been created, every one of them, to give a certain amount of light to the inhabitants of this world when there was no moon, was furious in his arctic fashion, especially as he was aware that with a few distinguished exceptions, these hosts of heaven did not reward their votaries with either wealth or honour.
"I intend you for my own profession, the Church," he said bluntly. "If you choose to star-gaze in the intervals of your religious duties, it is no affair of mine. But please understand, G.o.dfrey, that either you enter the Church or I wash my hands of you. In that event you may seek your living in any way you like."
G.o.dfrey remonstrated meekly to the effect that he had not made up his mind as to his fitness for Holy Orders or his wish to undertake them.
"You mean," replied his father, "that you have been infected by that pernicious girl, Isobel. Well, at any rate, I will remove you from her evil influence. I am glad to say that owing to the fact that my little school here has prospered, I am in a position to do this. I will send you for a year to a worthy Swiss pastor whom I met as a delegate to the recent Evangelical Congress, to learn French. He told me he desired an English pupil to be instructed in that tongue and general knowledge. I will write to him at once. I hope that in new surroundings you will forget all these wild ideas and, after your course at college, settle down to be a good and useful man in the walk of life to which you are so clearly called."