A Rent In A Cloud

“Then you must look for another counsellor. I am not so immaculate that I can arraign others; and, if I were, I fancy I might find some pleasanter occupation.”

“But if I tell you a secret, a great secret – ”

“I’d not listen to a secret I detest secrets, just as I’d hate to have the charge of another man’s money. So, I warn you, tell me nothing that you don’t want to hear talked of at dinner, and before the servants.”

“Yes; but this is a case in which I really need your advice.”

“You can’t have it at the price you propose. Not to add, that I have a stronger sentiment to sway me in this case, which you will understand at once, when I you tell that he is a man of whom I would like to speak with great reserve, for the simple reason that I don’t like him.”

“Don’t like him! You don’t like him!”

“It does seem very incredible to you; but I must repeat it, I don’t like him.”

“But will you tell me why? What are the grounds of your dislike?”

“Is it not this very moment I have explained to you that my personal feeling towards him inspires a degree of deference which forbids me to discuss his character? He may be the best fellow in Europe, the bravest, the boldest, the frankest, the fairest All I have to say is, that if I had a sister, and he proposed to marry her I’d rather see her a corpse than his wife; and now you have led me into a confession that I told you I’d not enter upon. Say another word about it and I’ll go and ask Loyd to come up here and listen to the discussion, for I detest secrets and secrecy, and I’ll have nothing to say to either.”

“You’d not do anything so rash and inconsiderate?”

“Don’t provoke me, that’s all. You are always telling me you know the Calverts, their hot-headedness, their passionate warmth, and so on. I leave it to yourself, is it wise to push me further?”

“May I show you a letter I received yesterday morning, in reply to one of mine?”

“Not if it refers to Loyd.”

“It does refer to him.”

“Then I’ll not read it. I tell you for the last time, I’ll not be cheated into this discussion. I don’t desire to have it said of me some fine morning, You talked of the man that you lived with on terms of intimacy. You chummed with him, and yet you told stories of him.”

“If you but knew the difficulty of the position in which you have placed me – ”

“I know at least the difficulty in which you have placed me, and I am resolved not to incur it. Have I given to you Sophy’s letter to read?” said he with a changed voice. “I must fetch it out to you and let you see all that she says of her future happiness.” And thus, by a sudden turn, he artfully engaged her in recollections of Rocksley, and all the persons and incidents of a remote long ago!

When Loyd returned with the girls to the house, Calvert soon saw that he had not spoken to them on the altercation of the morning – a reserve which he ungenerously attributed to the part Loyd himself filled in the controversy. The two met with a certain reserve; but which, however felt and understood by each, was not easily marked by a spectator. Florence, however, saw it, with the traditional clearness of an invalid. She read what healthier eyes never detect She saw that the men had either quarrelled, or were on the brink of a quarrel, and she watched them closely and narrowly. This was the easier for her, as at meal times she never came to table, but lay on a sofa, and joined in the conversation at intervals.

Oppressed by the consciousness of what had occurred in the morning, and far less able to conceal his emotions or master them than his companion, Loyd was disconcerted and ill at ease: now answering at cross-purposes, now totally absorbed in his own reflections. As Calvert saw this, it encouraged him to greater efforts to be agreeable. He could, when he pleased, be a most pleasing guest. He had that sort of knowledge of people and life which seasons talk so well, and suits so many listeners. He was curious to find out to which of the sisters Loyd was engaged, but all his shrewdness could not fix the point decisively. He talked on incessantly, referring occasionally to Loyd to confirm what he knew well the other’s experience could never have embraced, and asking frankly, as it were, for his opinion on people he was fully aware the other had never met with.

Emily (or Milly, as she was familiarly called) Walter showed impatience more than once at these sallies, which always made Loyd confused and uncomfortable, so that Calvert leaned to the impression that it was she herself was the chosen one. As for Florence, she rather enjoyed, he thought, the awkward figure Loyd presented, and she even laughed outright at his bashful embarrassment.

“Yes,” said Calvert to himself, “Florence is with me. She is my ally. I’m sure of her.”

“What spirits he has,” said Miss Grainger, as she brought the sick girl her coffee. “I never saw him in a gayer mood. He’s bent on tormenting Loyd though, for he has just proposed a row on the lake, and that he should take one boat and Loyd the other, and have a race. He well knows who’ll win.”

“That would be delightful, aunt Let us have it by all means. Mr. Calvert, I engage you. You are to take me. Emily will go with Mr. Loyd.”

“And I’ll stand at the point and be the judge,” said Miss Grainger.

Calvert never waited for more, but springing up, hastened down to the shore to prepare the boat He was soon followed by Miss Grainger, with Florence leaning on her arm and looking brighter and fairer than he thought he had ever seen her.

“Let us be off at once,” whispered Calvert, “for I’d like a few hundred yards’ practice – a sort of trial gallop – before I begin;” and, placing the sick girl tenderly in the stern, he pulled vigorously out into the lake. “What a glorious evening!” said he. “Is there anything in the world can equal one of these sunsets on an Italian lake, with all the tints of the high Alps blending softly on the calm water?”

She made no answer; and he went on enthusiastically about the scene, the hour, the stillness, and the noble sublimity of the gigantic mountains which arose around them.

Scarcely, however, had Calvert placed her in the boat, and pulled out vigorously from the shore, than he saw a marked change come over the girl’s face. All the laughing gaiety of a moment back was gone, and an expression of anxiety had taken its place.

“You are not ill?” asked he, eagerly.

“No. Why do you ask me?”

“I was afraid – I fancied you looked paler. You seem changed.”

“So I am,” said she, seriously. “Answer me what I shall ask, but tell me frankly.”

“That I will; what is it?”

“You and Loyd have quarrelled – what was it about?”

“What a notion! Do you imagine that the silly quizzing that passes, between young men implies a quarrel?”

“No matter what I fancy; tell me as candidly as you said you would. What was the subject of your disagreement?”

“How peremptory you are,” said he laughing. “Are you aware that to give your orders in this fashion implies one of two things – a strong interest in me, or in my adversary?”

“Well, I accept the charge; now for the confession.”

“Am I right, then, dearest Florence?” said he, ceasing to row, and leaning down to look the nearer at her. “Am I right, then, that your claim to this knowledge is the best and most indisputable?”

“Tell me what it is!” said she, and her pale face suddenly glowed with a deep flush.

“You guessed aright, Florence, we did quarrel; that is, we exchanged very angry words, though it is not very easy to say how the difference began, nor how far it went I was dissatisfied with him. I attributed to his influence, in some shape or other, that I stood less well here – in your esteem, I mean – than formerly; and he somewhat cavalierly told me if there were a change I owed it to myself, that I took airs upon me, that I was haughty, presuming, and fifty other things of the same sort; and so, with an interchange of such courtesies, we grew at last to feel very warm, and finally reached that point where men – of the world, at least – understand discussion ceases, and something else succeeds.”

“Well, go on,” cried she, eagerly.

“All is told; there is no more to say. The lawyer did not see the thing, perhaps, in the same vulgar light that I did; he took his hat, and came over here. I followed him, and there’s the whole of it.”

“I think he was wrong to comment upon your manner, if not done from a sense of friendship, and led on to it by some admission on your part.”

“Of course he was; and I am charmed to hear you say so.”

She was silent for some time, leaning her head on her hand, and appearing deep in thought.

“Now that I have made my confession, will you let me have one of yours?” said he, in a low, soft voice.

“I’m not sure; what’s it to be about?”

“It’s about myself I want to question you.”

“About yourself! Surely you could not have hit upon a sorrier adviser, or a less experienced counsellor than I am.”