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robert falconer-第58章

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time afore they come to onything。'



Then Miss St。 John inquired about Shargar; and began to feel rather

differently towards the old lady when she had heard the story。  But

how she laughed at the tale; and how light…hearted Robert went home;

are neither to be told。



The next Sunday; the first time for many years; Dooble Sanny was at

church with his wife; though how much good he got by going would be

a serious question to discuss。









CHAPTER XXV。



THE GATES OF PARADISE。



Robert had his first lesson the next Saturday afternoon。  Eager and

undismayed by the presence of Mrs; Forsyth; good…natured and

contemptuousfor had he not a protecting angel by him?he

hearkened for every word of Miss St。 John; combated every fault; and

undermined every awkwardness with earnest patience。  Nothing

delighted Robert so much as to give himself up to one greater。  His

mistress was thoroughly pleased; and even Mrs。 Forsyth gave him two

of her soft finger tips to do something or other withRobert did

not know what; and let them go。



About eight o'clock that same evening; his heart beating like a

captured bird's; he crept from grannie's parlour; past the kitchen;

and up the low stair to the mysterious door。  He had been trying for

an hour to summon up courage to rise; feeling as if his grandmother

must suspect where he was going。  Arrived at the barrier; twice his

courage failed him; twice he turned and sped back to the parlour。  A

third time he made the essay; a third time stood at the wondrous

doorso long as blank as a wall to his careless eyes; now like the

door of the magic Sesame that led to the treasure…cave of Ali Baba。

He laid his hand on the knob; withdrew it; thought he heard some one

in the transe; rushed up the garret stair; and stood listening;

hastened down; and with a sudden influx of determination opened the

door; saw that the trap was raised; closed the door behind him; and

standing with his head on the level of the floor; gazed into the

paradise of Miss St。 John's room。  To have one peep into such a room

was a kind of salvation to the half…starved nature of the boy。  All

before him was elegance; richness; mystery。  Womanhood radiated from

everything。  A fire blazed in the chimney。  A rug of long white wool

lay before it。  A little way off stood the piano。  Ornaments

sparkled and shone upon the dressing…table。  The door of a wardrobe

had swung a little open; and discovered the sombre shimmer of a

black silk dress。  Something gorgeously red; a China crape shawl;

hung glowing beyond it。  He dared not gaze any longer。  He had

already been guilty of an immodesty。  He hastened to ascend; and

seated himself at the piano。



Let my reader aid me for a moment with his imaginationreflecting

what it was to a boy like Robert; and in Robert's misery; to open a

door in his own meagre dwelling and gaze into such a roomfree to

him。  If he will aid me so; then let him aid himself by thinking

that the house of his own soul has such a door into the infinite

beauty; whether he has yet found it or not。



'Just think;' Robert said to himself; 'o' me in sic a place!  It's a

pailace。  It's a fairy pailace。  And that angel o' a leddy bides

here; and sleeps there!  I wonner gin she ever dreams aboot onything

as bonny 's hersel'!'



Then his thoughts took another turn。



'I wonner gin the room was onything like this whan my mamma sleepit

in 't?  I cudna hae been born in sic a gran' place。  But my mamma

micht hae weel lien here。'



The face of the miniature; and the sad words written below the hymn;

came back upon him; and he bowed his head upon his hands。  He was

sitting thus when Miss St。 John came behind him; and heard him

murmur the one word Mamma!  She laid her hand on his shoulder。  He

started and rose。



'I beg yer pardon; mem。  I hae no business to be here; excep' to

play。  But I cudna help thinkin' aboot my mother; for I was born in

this room; mem。  Will I gang awa' again?'



He turned towards the door。



'No; no;' said Miss St。 John。 'I only came to see if you were here。

I cannot stop now; but to…morrow you must tell me about your

mother。  Sit down; and don't lose any more time。  Your grandmother

will miss you。  And then what would come of it?'



Thus was this rough diamond of a Scotch boy; rude in speech; but

full of delicate thought; gathered under the modelling influences of

the finished; refined; tender; sweet…tongued; and sweet…thoughted

Englishwoman; who; if she had been less of a woman; would have been

repelled by his uncouthness; if she had been less of a lady; would

have mistaken his commonness for vulgarity。  But she was just; like

the type of womankind; a virgin…mother。  She saw the nobility of his

nature through its homely garments; and had been; indeed; sent to

carry on the work from which his mother had been too early taken

away。



'There's jist ae thing mem; that vexes me a wee; an' I dinna ken

what to think aboot it;' said Robert; as Miss St。 John was leaving

the room。 'Maybe ye cud bide ae minute till I tell ye。'



'Yes; I can。  What is it?'



'I'm nearhan' sure that whan I lea' the parlour; grannie 'ill think

I'm awa' to my prayers; and sae she'll think better o' me nor I

deserve。  An' I canna bide that。'



'What should make you suppose that she will think so?'



'Fowk kens what ane anither's aboot; ye ken; mem。'



'Then she'll know you are not at your prayers。'



'Na。 For sometimes I div gang to my prayers for a whilie like; but

nae for lang; for I'm nae like ane o' them 'at he wad care to hear

sayin' a lang screed o' a prayer till 'im。  I hae but ae thing to

pray aboot。'



'And what's that; Robert?'



One of his silences had seized him。  He looked confused; and turned

away。



'Never mind;' said Miss St。 John; anxious to relieve him; and

establish a comfortable relation between them; 'you will tell me

another time。'



'I doobt no; mem;' answered Robert; with what most people would

think an excess of honesty。



But Miss St。 John made a better conjecture as to his apparent

closeness。



'At all events;' she said; 'don't mind what your grannie may think;

so long as you have no wish to make her think it。  Good…night。'



Had she been indeed an angel from heaven; Robert could not have

worshipped her more。  And why should he?  Was she less God's

messenger that she had beautiful arms instead of less beautiful

wings?



He practised his scales till his unaccustomed fingers were stiff;

then shut the piano with reverence; and departed; carefully peeping

into the disenchanted region without the gates to see that no enemy

lay in wait for him as he passed beyond them。  He closed the door

gently; and in one moment the rich lovely room and the beautiful

lady were behind him; and before him the bare stair between two

white…washed walls; and the long flagged transe that led to his

silent grandmother seated in her arm…chair; gazing into 
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