"Hold your tongue,my lady.What,because a 'prentice-lad once saved my life,and you choose to patronise him as you do many another vagabond,with your cursed liberty and equality,am I to have him at my table,and treat him as a gentleman?By --,madam,never!"He spoke savagely,and loud.John was silent;he had locked his hands together convulsively;but it was easy to see that his blood was at boiling heat,and that,did he once slip the leash of his passions,it would go hard with Richard Brithwood.
The latter came up to him with clenched fist."Now mark me,you--you vagabond!"Ursula March crossed the room,and caught his arm,her eyes gleaming fire.
"Cousin,in my presence this gentleman shall be treated as a gentleman.He was kind to my father.""Curse your father!"
John's right hand burst free;he clutched the savage by the shoulder.
"Be silent.You had better."
Brithwood shook off the grasp,turned and struck him;that last fatal insult,which offered from man to man,in those days,could only be wiped out with blood.
John staggered.For a moment he seemed as if he would have sprung on his adversary and felled him to the ground--but--he did it not.
Some one whispered,--"He won't fight.He is a Quaker.""No!"he said,and stood erect;though he was ghastly pale,and his voice sounded hoarse and strange--"But I am a Christian.I shall not return blow for blow."It was a new doctrine;foreign to the practice,if familiar to the ear,of Christian Norton Bury.No one answered him;all stared at him;one or two sheered off from him with contemptuous smiles.Then Ursula March stretched out her friendly hand.John took it,and grew calm in a moment.
There arose a murmur of "Mr.Brithwood is going.""Let him go!"Miss March cried,anger still glowing in her eyes.
"Not so--it is not right.I will speak to him.May I?"John softly unclosed her detaining hand,and went up to Mr.Brithwood."Sir,there is no need for you to leave this house--I am leaving it.You and I shall not meet again if I can help it."His proud courtesy,his absolute dignity and calmness,completely overwhelmed his blustering adversary;who gazed open-mouthed,while John made his adieu to his host and to those he knew.The women gathered round him--woman's instinct is usually true.Even Lady Caroline,amid a flutter of regrets,declared she did not believe there was a man in the universe who would have borne so charmingly such a "degradation."At the word Miss March fired up."Madam,"she said,in her impetuous young voice,"no insult offered to a man can ever degrade him;the only real degradation is when he degrades himself."John,passing out at the doorway,caught her words.As he quitted the room no crowned victor ever wore a look more joyful,more proud.
After a minute we followed him;the Doctor's wife and I.But now the pride and joy had both faded.
"Mrs.Jessop,you see I am right,"he murmured."I ought not to have come here.It is a hard world for such as I.I shall never conquer it--never.""Yes--you will."And Ursula stood by him,with crimsoned cheek,and eyes no longer flashing,but fearless still.
Mrs.Jessop put her arm round the young girl."I also think you need not dread the world,Mr.Halifax,if you always act as you did tonight;though I grieve that things should have happened thus,if only for the sake of this,my child.""Have I done any harm?oh!tell me,have I done any harm?""No!"cried Ursula,with the old impetuosity kindling anew in every feature of her noble face."You have but showed me what I shall remember all my life--that a Christian only can be a true gentleman."She understood him--he felt she did;understood him as,if a man be understood by one woman in the world,he--and she too--is strong,safe,and happy.They grasped hands once more,and gazed unhesitatingly into each other's eyes.All human passion for the time being set aside,these two recognized each in the other one aim,one purpose,one faith;something higher than love,something better than happiness.It must have been a blessed moment for both.
Mrs.Jessop did not interfere.She had herself known what true love was,if,as gossips said,she had kept constant to our worthy doctor for thirty years.But still she was a prudent woman,not unused to the world.
"You must go now,"she said,laying her hand gently on John's arm.
"I am going.But she--what will she do?"
"Never mind me.Jane will take care of me,"said Ursula,winding her arms round her old governess,and leaning her cheek down on Mrs.
Jessop's shoulder.
We had never seen Miss March show fondness,that is,caressing fondness,to any one before.It revealed her in a new light;betraying the depths there were in her nature;infinite depths of softness and of love.
John watched her for a minute;a long,wild,greedy minute,then whispered hoarsely to me,"I must go."We made a hasty adieu,and went out together into the night--the cold,bleak night,all blast and storm.
