"You have been very perverse," he said, at length; "you have provoked me, so that I have lost all my self-control; but for the sake of those words, it shall not only be all forgiven to you, but if ever we quarrel again, remember that, whatever you may have done, you need only remind me of this day, for peace to be once more between us."
He pressed me to his heart and kissed me repeatedly, then put me away, rose and went up to Miriam. She stood where he had left her, pale and almost defiant-looking, as if she already repelled the expected reproaches of Cornelius.
"I beg your pardon," he said very gravely.
"My pardon?" she replied, looking up at him with a cold doubt in her eyes.
"Your pardon," he repeated precisely in the same tone. "When I stepped up to Daisy, it was to take her by the hand and lead her out of the room, a little indignity which I thought her obstinacy merited; but how utterly I must have lost my temper, how much I must have forgotten myself, for you to misunderstand me so cruelly?"
She did not appear to perceive the reproach that lingered in this apology.
"You looked provoked enough for anything," she quietly answered, "but it was that unhappy child who made you lose all patience."
"I have enough power over myself to promise you that, no matter what Daisy may do, I shall never again allow it to betray me into passion,"
said Cornelius very calmly; "I shall try the effect of forbearance; with regard to what passed this morning, I forgive her freely; may I trust that you also forgive her."
"Indeed I do, poor thing!" sighed Miriam, as if she pitied my evil nature too much to resent any of its peculiar workings.
No more was said on the subject; but Cornelius was as much pleased with my trust in him, as he was secretly hurt with the suspicion of Miriam. If in his manner to her I could see no difference, there was no mistaking the sudden increase of tenderness and affection with which he treated me.
Had I only been wise, I might have availed myself of this opportunity to regain almost all I had lost; but who is wise in this world? I was foolish enough to fall into the first snare Miriam placed before me; again I showed myself an obstinate, sullen, jealous child.
Cornelius however kept to his word; he bit his lip, curbed down his anger, and did not allow his voice to rise above the tones of a calm remonstrance.
But better, far better for me that Cornelius should have given way to hasty speech, punished me, and the next hour forgiven me, than that he should have thus checked himself every time I transgressed. The resentment he daily repressed rankled in his mind; I irritated him constantly, and yet I compelled him to incessant self-control: I became a secret thorn in his side, the source of an unacknowledged pain, a warning that met him at every turn: if Miriam had designed it all in order to render my presence insupportable to him, she could scarcely have succeeded better.
How changed was our once happy and peaceful home! a spirit of strife, of unquiet jealousy had entered it and poisoned all its joys; a sense of trouble and unhappiness hung over it like the sword over the head of Damocles, and robbed everything of its pleasure and its charm. Kate was grave, Cornelius irritable; I was wretched; she alone who had caused it all remained unalterably serene.
Such a state of things could not last: we all vaguely felt it. The close of April brought the change. Breakfast, which had passed off as usual, was over when Cornelius told me to go up with him to his little studio. I obeyed with pleased alacrity; Medora was again lying by, and Miriam was not therefore to come; he had not shown of late much inclination for my society; I hailed this as a symptom of returning favour. As I found myself once more alone with him in the little room I knew so well, I exclaimed joyfully--
"How kind it is of you, Cornelius, to have asked me to come up!"
"Is it?" he replied, without looking at me.
"Yes, I did so want to come up yesterday; but Kate would not let me. May I come to-morrow?"
"To-morrow? no."
"After to-morrow then?" I said persistingly.
"Be quiet, child, and let me work."
I obeyed and looked at him, as he continued the task on which he had for the last week been engaged--copying a little Dutch painting for a picture-dealer. After awhile I said--
"When you are a great artist you won't copy pictures, will you, Cornelius?"
"Did I not tell you to let me work?"
"I shall speak no more."
But to make up for speaking, I got up on the table and attempted to take down some of the portfolios from the shelf. He heard me, turned round, and uttered an imperative--
"Come down!"
As I obeyed with regret, I exclaimed--
"Oh! if you only would, Cornelius!"
"Would what?"
"Let me have the portfolios, look at the drawings, and arrange them,--I am sure they are in a great mess. By beginning to-day I might have them all sorted before the end of the week. May I have one to begin with?"
"No; must I for a third time tell you to let me work?"
I promised to interrupt him no more, and taking a chair, I sat for awhile both quiet and silent: but the spirit of speech must have possessed me, for I forgot my promise and spoke again.
"Cornelius," I said suddenly, "do you think your Happy Time will be accepted?" for Cornelius had sent in his picture to the Academy; but though Kate and I felt some anxiety on the subject, he professed total indifference.
"I neither know nor care," he replied negligently; "I set no value on it, and shall not think the better of it for its being accepted."
"It makes my heart beat to think of it. I am sure it is a beautiful picture."
"How can you tell?"
"Surely, Cornelius," I replied, "I know?"
"I know," he interrupted, "that I never knew you in such a chattering humour. What possesses you, child, on this morning above all others?"
He had sat down to rest, and, leaning back in his chair, he looked round at me; I stood behind him; passing my arm around his neck, I replied, "It is that I am glad to be again up here."
"Have you never been here before?"
"Not much of late,--I mean when you are alone; not this whole week; I thought you were vexed with me, and when you said 'Come up' this morning, just in the old way, I felt so glad that, if Kate had not been looking, I should have jumped up and kissed you."
But Kate was not there now to restrain me--for the most innocent affection is shy and shuns the eye of a gazer--so I kissed her brother as I loved him--with my whole heart.
"That will never do," exclaimed Cornelius, looking very uncomfortable; "listen to me, child, I have something to say to you."
"I am listening, Cornelius," I replied, without changing my attitude.
"I cannot speak in that sideways fashion."
I walked round and sat down on his knee.
"I shall be quite opposite you so," I said.
Cornelius looked disconcerted, and observed gravely, "My dear, you are getting too old for all this; you must be near thirteen."
"My birthday is in two months' time; yours in five."