Chapter 3

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form he had to enter and to feel closing round him as a sheath, while recognizing irefully that he had himself taken part in his imprisonment. In the course of a not very brisk conversation, his new acquaintance informed him that her name was Margaret Ellwood, that her husband was dead, and that she was now supporting herself by her brush. She had come to Yorkshire to do some sketching on the moors.

" I can't afford to be idle," she said ; " yet health is almost as important as bread, so I try to win the two at the same time."

"Then you sell your pictures!" Dick exclaimed.

" Does that surprise you so much?"

"Well, I thought you looked more like one who does things for amusement," said Dick, still resentful of his incarceration.

Mrs. Ellwood smiled.

11 What makes you think so ?"

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" It seemed to me that you were one of the idle sort, that's all !" he returned, acting up to his bumpkin rdle in a vengeful spirit.

"Well, really, Mr. Coverdale, you are rather severe/' she said with a laugh. " If you knew what a hard-working life I lead, and how I am at this moment completely tired out, perhaps you would treat my efforts with a little more respect. It isn't only people with spades and pickaxes who work, you know."

Dick looked at her more carefully, but in the dim light he could not detect the weary look in her eyes, or the too great pallor of her cheeks and lips. Her robustness of outline, and a certain energy in her manner, gave a true impression of native strength, but disguised the signs of overstrain. She had fine limpid gray-blue eyes, that looked out straight and clear, inspiring trust ; her hair was of a light reddish brown, very

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smooth and luxuriant. The features were irregular, the brow broad, the lips full. The eyes gave an expression of gravity to the face.

This type of woman was entirely un- familiar to the farmer's son. He felt clumsy and uncouth beside her, yet she attracted him. The rain still poured down, threaten- ing to prolong the singular interview indefi- nitely, Mrs. Ellwood endeavored to draw her companion into conversation, not know- ing that she was trying in vain to make him emerge from the species of cocoon in which she herself had unconsciously enwoven him.

" I want to understand where you live," she said. " I should so much like to see a real Yorkshire farm. I wonder if I might come up some day from Winterbridge ?"

" Why, yes, of course ; and we can give you a cup of tea, and I'll show you what there is to see. It's not much. Times are

62 A ROMANCE OF THE MOORS.

bad, and my father has been obliged to let some of the cottages and buildings go to ruin about the place, and it makes it look desolate."

"But you are fond of it, I suppose?" suggested Mrs. Ellwood, wondering how a Yorkshireman born and bred regarded the spot that seemed to her so full of poetry.

At that question, Dick's real self, escaping the vigilance of the cocoon, made a trium- phant sortie.

Mrs. Ellwood looked up admiringly as he drew himself together, and stood with one hand pressed hard against the rock as he leaned forward. She longed to sketch th$ fine easy lines of his figure, and the firmness and swing of the pose. She had scarcely realized before how handsome he was. She was so much occupied in studying his face, with a view to portraiture, that she did not

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notice what he was saying. He must have been speaking several seconds when her mind drifted into the current of his thoughts at haphazard.

" — there isn't an inch of ground between here and Braisted that I don't love with every fibre of my body ! It's got to be part of myself. Our people have been here for generations, and I feel as if I were made out of the soil, just as the grass is and the heather. When the rain falls, it is as if it fell on me, and when the sun shines, it is as if it shone on me. We're simple folk hereabout — so, I suppose, we seem to you, who have seen so much, and done so much that is unknown to us, — but we have things in our life that you can't have — you who live in towns, torn away from the earth." He clasped the rock with his hand as he spoke with a gust of passion.

Mrs. Ellwood's expression had changed

64 A ROMANCE OF THE MOORS.

from one of observant criticism to a look of keen interest.

"It has always been one of my regrets that I have known the country so little," she said gently.

*' One can't have everything, I suppose," returned the young man with a greedy sigh, " more's the pity ! But my heart is sore for all who have not known the friendship of these things."

" I suppose, then, nothing would induce you to leave your native place?"

Dick took his hand from the rock, and swung his figure round, his head sinking suddenly on his breast.

" It's strange that you should ask me that question," he said, after a pause : " it's one I've been asking myself in secret this two years and more. It seems as if there were two men inside this body of mine — one that has got roots in the soil, the other with

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wings. And the fellow with wings has been troubling lately. His brother has the best of it ; for it's easy to stay, and hard to go."

" I suppose your parents are loath to part with you ?"

"Ay; I am their eldest son, and they trust to me to look after things. Times are hard now : my father lost more than half his stock last year, and he worries over it sorely. There are two young boys to bring up besides me. My mother works hard from dawn till dusk ; if it were not for her, my father often says he couldn't keep head above water. She likes to think that I shall have the farm after they are gone, and she struggles to hold things together for my sake as well as for my father's. They both fix their thoughts on me. They are as good parents as ever a man had ; and yet " — Dick paused for a second — "something beyond those hills seems to call to me

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unceasingly, and I feel at times that I must go!

He gave a sigh, as if it had relieved him to confess himself. It did not occur to him that since he was a little boy, telling his troubles at his mother's knee, this was the first time that he had spoken openly to anyone.

He had an unaccountable sense of having known this woman all his life. Her sympa- thy was so penetrating, that he could feel it around him, as if it were something palpa- ble, while she sat there listening in silence. He had no doubts. He knew that there was nothing in her to prevent his unques- tioning confidence. Her influence was greater and more subtle even than this. Her mere presence soothed and gave hope and strength. To see her sitting there in her calm attitude, was to be rescued for a time from the sense of profound solitude that had haunted him from his childhood,

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And yet — even yet — there was one lonely, darksome corner that her sunshine could not reach !

"You have read a good deal, have you not? and thought ?" Mrs. Ellwood said presently.

Dick laughed.

"In my father's little library are The Pilgrims Progress, Baxter's Saints' Rest, The Book of Martyrs, a copy of Shakespeare, an old volume of Charles Lamb, Gibbon, and a good many others less noteworthy. A shop in Dedborough that I haunt has also supplied me with books, sometimes worthless, sometimes — like this."

Dick was on his knees before his new friend, and had placed the precious volume in her hand.

" Shelley !" she exclaimed. " Had you never come across him before ?"

" No, only read of him. It seems to me

68 A ROMANCE OF THE MOORS.

as if all the joy of my life were crowding into one day ! I found this book this after- noon,— this evening I" — he hesitated — "I won a true heart — and to-night — "

" To-night ?" she prompted with a warm smile, almost as one would give to a child, yet full of a tender reverence that in this woman was ever ready to go forth towards all true and aspiring spirits.

"To-night I have found you !"

" Ah ! and a very valuable discovery !" she said with a gentle laugh.

" You will not withdraw yourself after we part ?" he pleaded wistfully. " You will let me see you again ?"

"By all means, she answered. "I want to know a great deal more about you. Will you tell me?"

Dick gave an expressive gesture :

" Will a flower open when the sunshine falls upon it ?"

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She smiled.

" I may be able to help you in some way," she said, musingly. " I have books with me that you may like to see, and — do you take any interest in painting ?"

" I have seen no pictures," he answered, " except once at Leeds, and those I did not care for; but when I see the sun setting over the hills, or a brook running to join the river, or the cattle coming home in the glow of the evening to be milked, my mother going and coming among her fowls, then I feel—"

" That you must express or represent it in some form or other."

"Yes, or — go mad," said Dick quietly. (Mrs. Elwood looked up suddenly.) " I cannot be content to let things alone — (I can't explain quite) — I must translate them, carry them into a new realm."

" The realm of Art," said Mrs. Ellwood.

70 A ROMANCE OF THE MOORS.

" So you, too, have that strange insanity! Do you know, you have beguiled me into forgetting all about the weather. I think the rain sounds less determined."

But Dick seemed inclined to underrate the improvement.

" It's still very heavy ; I can't let you risk going yet. Do go on talking."

Mrs. Ellwood laughed.

" I am glad you find me so entertaining ; but I must really be going."

" She had risen, and was standing on the verge of the rock, holding out her hand to catch the drops.

" A mere summer shower," she said, " It will be quite refreshing."

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