Afterwards, two carriages laden with luggage drove out of the village, taking the[166] road that led to the neighbouring seaport7 town. The first contained the two little Channells and their nurses; in the second sat Rhoda and Nelly. And before the vehicles were out of sight, Robert Channell had turned his steps in the direction of the curate’s lodging8.
He met the young man in the lane outside the sexton’s cottage, and gave him a kindly9 good morning.
“I am the bearer of startling news, Morgan,” he said, slipping a little note into his hand. “Let us come under the shade of the churchyard trees. And now, Morgan, before you read the note, I want to ask you to forgive my Nelly.”
“Forgive Nelly!” stammered10 the curate, thinking that if all could be known it would be Nelly’s part to forgive him.
“Yes,” the father answered. [167]“Try to think of her as a dear, foolish child who has made a grave mistake. She has sent me to break off her engagement with you, Morgan. She begs you, through me, to forgive her for any pain that she may cause you. She wants you to remember her kindly always, but neither to write to her, nor seek to see her again.”
The curate was silent for some moments. No suspicion of the truth crossed his mind. He concluded, not unnaturally11, that he had been too quiet and grave a lover for the bright girl. That was all.
When he spoke12, his words were very few. Perhaps Nelly’s father respected him none the less because he made no pretence13 of great sorrow. His face was pale, and his voice trembled a little, as he said quietly,—
“If you will come into my lodging, Mr. Channell, I will give you Nelly’s letters and her portrait. She may like to have them back again without delay.”
They walked out of the churchyard, and down the lane to the sexton’s cottage. And then Morgan left Mr. Channell sitting in the little parlour, while he went upstairs to his room.
[168]
The hour of release had come. He took out a plain gold locket, which had always been worn unseen, and detached it from its guard. He opened it, and looked long and sadly at the fair face that it contained. It was a delicately-painted photograph, true to life; and locket and portrait had been Nelly’s first gift. The smile was her own smile, frank and bright; the brown eyes seemed to look straight at the gazer. “O Nelly,” he said, kissing the picture, “why couldn’t I love you better? Thank God for this painless parting! No wonder that you wearied of me, dear; you will be a thousand times freer and happier without me.”
Presently he came downstairs, and entered the parlour with the locket and a little packet of letters. These he gave silently into Mr. Channell’s hands.
“Morgan,” said Robert Channell, [169]“I am heartily14 sorry for this. Don’t think that I shall cease to feel for you as a friend, because I cannot have you for a son-in-law.”
“I shall never forget all your kindness,” Morgan answered, in a low voice. “But I shall soon leave this place, Mr. Channell.”
“Better so, perhaps,” Robert responded. “You ought to labour in a larger sphere. You have great capacities for hard work, Morgan.”
Then the two men parted with a close hand-shake. And Mr. Channell looked back to say, almost carelessly,—
“My family have migrated to Southsea for a month or two. I follow them to-morrow.”
It would be too much to say that the curate “regained his freedom with a sigh.” Yet certain it is that this unlooked-for release set his heart aching; it might be that his amour propre was slightly wounded, for was it not a little hard to find that the girl for whom he had been making a martyr15 of himself could do very well without him? He had climbed the height of self-sacrifice only to find deliverance. The spirit of sacrifice had been required of him, but the crowning act was not demanded.
[170]
He read Nelly’s note again. It was a very commonplace little letter, written in a sloping, feminine hand. She used that stereotyped16 phrase which, hackneyed as it is, does as well or better than any other, “I feel we are not suited for each other.” This was the sole excuse offered for breaking the engagement, and surely it was excuse enough.
How could he know that these few trite17 sentences had been written in the anguish18 of a woman’s first great sorrow? We don’t recognise the majesty19 of woe20 when it masquerades in every-day garments. It needs a Divine sight to find out the real heroes and heroines of life. If Morgan had been questioned about Nelly, the term “heroine” would have been the very last that he would have applied21 to her. And yet Nelly, quite unconsciously, had acted in the true spirit of heroism22.
By-and-by the sense of relief began to make itself felt, and Morgan’s heart grew wonderfully light. He went through his usual routine of[171] duties, and then took his way to the rectory. He must give the rector timely notice of his intention to resign his curacy.
Meanwhile Robert Channell had proceeded to Laurel House. Mrs. Gold received him in a depressed23 manner. Her governess, she said, had left her; and she seemed to consider that Miss Hazleburn had used her unkindly. She did not know how such a useful person could be replaced. Nobody would ever satisfy her so well as Miss Hazleburn had done. Yes, she could give the governess’s address to Mr. Channell. She had chosen to go to Warwickshire, to live with an invalid24 lady. Mrs. Gold hoped she would find the post unbearably25 dull, and return to her former situation.
“There is little probability of that,” thought Robert Channell, as he went his way with the address in his pocket-book. And then he thought of Nelly’s face and voice when she had stated her intention of giving up Mr. Myrtle’s legacy26 to Eve.
[172]
“I won’t keep anything that isn’t fairly mine,” she had said; “let her have both the lover and the money.”
Eve never ceased to wonder how the Channells had found out that Mr. Myrtle had owed her father three thousand pounds.
October had just set in when Eve and Morgan met again. It was Sunday morning, and she was on her way to that beautiful old church which is the chief glory of the city of C——. The bells were chiming; the ancient street was bright with autumn light; far above them rose the tall spire27, rising high into the calm skies.
They said very little to each other at that moment. A great deal had already been said on paper, and they could afford to be quiet just then. Together they entered the church, a happy pair of worshippers, “singing and making melody in their hearts to the Lord.” “A thousand times happier,” Eve remarked afterwards, “than we could ever have dared to be if another had suffered for our joy.”
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1
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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2
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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3
sickles
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| n.镰刀( sickle的名词复数 ) | |
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4
reapers
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| n.收割者，收获者( reaper的名词复数 )；收割机 | |
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5
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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6
robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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7
seaport
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| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
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8
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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9
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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10
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11
unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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12
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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13
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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14
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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15
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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16
stereotyped
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| adj.(指形象、思想、人物等)模式化的 | |
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17
trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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18
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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19
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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20
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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21
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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22
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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23
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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24
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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25
unbearably
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| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
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26
legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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27
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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