Eleanor did not know what to make of him; however, it was plain he would go with her into this one; so she took him in, and then had to tell who he was, and blushed for shame and vexation to see her old nurse"s delighted and deep curtseys at the honour done her. She made her escape to see Jane; and leaving Mr. Carlisle to his own devices, gladly shut herself into the little stairway which led up from the kitchen to Jane"s room. The door closed behind her, Eleanor let fall the spirit-mask she wore before Mr. Carlisle,--wore consciously for him and half unconsciously for herself,--and her feet went slowly and heavily up the stair. A short stairway it was, and she had short time to linger; she did not linger; she went into Jane"s room. Eleanor had not been there since the night of her watch.
It was like coming out of the woods upon an open champaign, as she stood by the side of the sick girl. Jane was lying bolstered up, as usual; disease shewed no stay of its ravages since Eleanor had been there last; all that was as it had been. The thin cheek with its feverish hue; the unnaturally bright eyes; the att.i.tude of feebleness.
But the mouth was quiet and at rest to-day; and that mysterious region of expression around the eyes had lost all its seams and lines of care and anxiety; and the eyes themselves looked at Eleanor with that calm full simplicity that one sees in an infant"s eyes, before care or doubt has ever visited them. Eleanor was silent with surprise, and Jane spoke first.
"I am glad to see you, Miss Eleanor."
"You are better, Jane, to-day."
"I think--I am almost well," said Jane, pausing for breath as she spoke, and smiling at the same time.
"What has happened to you since I was here last? You do not look like the same."
"Ma"am, I am not the same. The Lord"s messenger has come--and I"ve heard the message--and O, Miss Eleanor, I"m happy!"
"What do you mean, Jane?" said Eleanor; though it struck coldly through all her senses what it did mean.
"Dear Miss Eleanor," said Jane, looking at her lovingly--"I wish you was as happy as I be!"
"What makes you happy?"
"O ma"am, because I love Jesus. I love Jesus!"
"You must tell me more, Jane. I do not understand you. The other night, when I was here, you were not happy."
"Miss Eleanor, I didn"t know him then. Since then I"ve seen how good he is--and how beautiful--and what he has done for me;--and I"m happy!"
"Can"t you tell me more, Jane? I want to understand it."
"Miss Eleanor, it"s hard to tell. I"m thinking, one can"t tell another--but the Lord must just shew himself."
"What has he shewn to you?" said Eleanor gloomily. The girl lifted her eyes with a placid light in them, as she answered,
"He has showed me how he loves me--and that he has forgiven me--O how good he is, Miss Eleanor!--and how he will take me home. And now I don"t want for to stay--no more now."
"You were afraid of dying, the other night, Jane."
"That"s gone,"--said the girl expressively.
"But how did it go?"
"I can"t say, ma"am. I just saw how Jesus loves me--and I felt I loved him--and then how could I be feared, Miss Eleanor? when all"s in his hand."
Eleanor stood still, looking at the transformed face before her, and feeling ready to sink on the floor and cry out for very sorrow of heart. Had this poor creature put on the invisible panoply which made her dare to go among the angels, while Eleanor"s own hand was empty--could not reach it--could not grasp it? She stood still with a cold brow and dark face.
"Jane, I wish you could give me what you have got--so as not to lose it yourself."
"Jesus will give it to you, Miss Eleanor," said the girl with a brightening eye and smile. "I know he will."
"I do not know of him, Jane, as you do," Eleanor said gravely. "What did you do to gain this knowledge?"
"I? I did nought, ma"am--what could I do? I just laid and cried in my bitterness of heart--like the night you was here, ma"am; till the day that Mr. Rhys came again and talked--and prayed--O he prayed!--and my trouble went away and the light came. O Miss Eleanor, if you would hear Mr. Rhys speak! I don"t know how;--but if you"d hear him, you"d know all that man can tell."
Eleanor stood silent. Jane looked at her with eyes of wistful regard, but panting already from the exertion of talking.
"But how are you different to-day, Jane, from what you were the other night?--except in being happy."
"Ma"am," said the girl speaking with difficulty, for she was excited,--"then I was blind. Now I see. I ain"t different no ways--only I have seen what the Lord has done for me--and I know he loves me--and he"s forgiven me my sins. He"s forgiven me!--And now I go singing to myself, like, all the day and the night too, "I love the Lord, and my Lord loves me.""
The water had slowly gathered in Jane"s eyes, and the cheek flushed; but her sweet happy regard never varied except to brighten.
"Jane, you must talk no more," said Eleanor. "What can I do for you?
only tell me that."
"Would Miss Eleanor read a bit?"
What would become of Mr. Carlisle"s patience? Eleanor desperately resolved to let it take care of itself, and sat down to read to Jane at the open page where the girl"s look and finger had indicated that she wished her to begin. And the very first words were, "Let not your heart be troubled."
Eleanor felt her voice choke; then clearing it with a determined effort she read on to the end of the chapter. But if she had been reading the pa.s.sage in its original Greek, she herself would hardly have received less intelligence from it. She had a dim perception of the words of love and words of glory of which it is full; she saw that Mr. Rhys"s "helmet" was at the beginning of it, and the "peace" he had preached of, at the end of it; yet those words which ever since the day they were spoken have been a bed of rest to every heart that has loved their Author, only straitened Eleanor"s heart with a vision of rest afar off.
"I must go now, dear Jane," she said as soon as the reading was ended.
"What else would you like, that I can do for you?"
"I"m thinking I want nothing, Miss Eleanor," said the girl calmly, without moving the eyes which had looked at Eleanor all through the reading. "But--"
"But what? speak out."
"Mother says you can do anything, ma"am."
"Well, go on."
"Dolly"s in trouble, ma"am."
"Dolly? why she was to have been married to that young Earle?"
"Yes, ma"am, but--mother"ll tell you, Miss Eleanor--it tires me. He has been disappointed of his money, has James; and Dolly, she couldn"t lay up none, "cause of home;--and she"s got to go back to service at Tenby; and they don"t know when they"ll come together now."
A fit of coughing punished Jane for the exertion she had made, and put a stop to her communication. Eleanor staid by her till it was over, would not let her say another word, kissed her, and ran down to the lower room in a divided state of spirits. There she learnt from Mrs.
Lewis the details of Jane"s confused story. The young couple wanted means to furnish a house; the money h.o.a.rded for the purpose had been lent by James in some stress of his parents" affairs and could not now be got back again; and the secret hope of the family, Eleanor found, was that James might be advanced to the gamekeeper"s place at Rythdale, which they took care to inform her was vacant; and which would put the young man in possession of better wages and enable him to marry at once. Eleanor just heard all this, and hurried out to the gate where Mr. Carlisle was waiting for her. Her interview with Jane had left her with a desperate feeling of being cut off from the peace and light her heart longed for; and yet she was glad to see somebody else happy. She stood by Mr. Carlisle"s side in a sort of subdued mood. There also stood Miss Broadus.
"Now Eleanor! here you are. Won"t you help me? I want you two to come in and take luncheon with us. I shall never get over it if you do--I shall be so pleased. So will Juliana. Now do persuade this gentleman!--will you? We"ll have luncheon in a little while--and then you can go on your ride. You"ll never do it if you dc not to-day."
"It is hardly time, Miss Broadus," said Mr. Carlisle "We must ride some miles before luncheon."
"I think it must be very near time," said Miss Broadus "Do, Eleanor, look and tell us what it is. Now you are here, it would be such a good chance. Well, Eleanor? And the horses can wait."
"It is half past twelve by me, Miss Broadus. I do not know how it is by the world"s clock."
"You can not take her word," said Mr. Carlisle, preparing to mount Eleanor. "She goes by an old-fashioned thing, that is always behind the time--or in advance of it."