Sylvia's Lovers - Page 236/290

After all, and though he did not acknowledge it even to himself, the

long-desired happiness was not so delicious and perfect as he had

anticipated. Many have felt the same in their first year of married

life; but the faithful, patient nature that still works on, striving

to gain love, and capable itself of steady love all the while, is a

gift not given to all.

For many weeks after their wedding, Kester never came near them: a

chance word or two from Sylvia showed Philip that she had noticed

this and regretted it; and, accordingly, he made it his business at

the next leisure opportunity to go to Haytersbank (never saying a

word to his wife of his purpose), and seek out Kester.

All the whole place was altered! It was new white-washed, new

thatched: the patches of colour in the surrounding ground were

changed with altered tillage; the great geraniums were gone from the

window, and instead, was a smart knitted blind. Children played

before the house-door; a dog lying on the step flew at Philip; all

was so strange, that it was even the strangest thing of all for

Kester to appear where everything else was so altered!

Philip had to put up with a good deal of crabbed behaviour on the

part of the latter before he could induce Kester to promise to come

down into the town and see Sylvia in her new home.

Somehow, the visit when paid was but a failure; at least, it seemed

so at the time, though probably it broke the ice of restraint which

was forming over the familiar intercourse between Kester and Sylvia.

The old servant was daunted by seeing Sylvia in a strange place, and

stood, sleeking his hair down, and furtively looking about him,

instead of seating himself on the chair Sylvia had so eagerly

brought forward for him.

Then his sense of the estrangement caused by their new positions

infected her, and she began to cry pitifully, saying,-'Oh, Kester! Kester! tell me about Haytersbank! Is it just as it

used to be in feyther's days?' 'Well, a cannot say as it is,' said Kester, thankful to have a

subject started. 'They'n pleughed up t' oud pasture-field, and are

settin' it for 'taters. They're not for much cattle, isn't

Higginses. They'll be for corn in t' next year, a reckon, and

they'll just ha' their pains for their payment. But they're allays

so pig-headed, is folk fra' a distance.' So they went on discoursing on Haytersbank and the old days, till

Bell Robson, having finished her afternoon nap, came slowly

down-stairs to join them; and after that the conversation became so

broken up, from the desire of the other two to attend and reply as

best they could to her fragmentary and disjointed talk, that Kester

took his leave before long; falling, as he did so, into the formal

and unnaturally respectful manner which he had adopted on first

coming in.