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 Learning HTTP/2

Stephen Ludin and Javier Garza

Beijing Boston Farnham Sebastopol Tokyo

Learning HTTP/2
by Stephen Ludin and Javier Garza
Copyright © 2016 Stephen Ludin, Javier Garza. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc. , 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.
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licenses or the intellectual property rights of others, it is your responsibility to ensure that your use
thereof complies with such licenses and/or rights.

978-1-491-96240-4
[FILL IN]
 Table of Contents

1. HTTP/2 Quick Start. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

Up and Running 5
Get a Certificate 5
Use an Online Generator 6
Self Signed 6
Let’s Encrypt 6
Get and Run Your First HTTP/2 Server 8
Pick a Browser 8

2. Evolution of HTTP. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
HTTP/0.9 and 1.0 10
HTTP/1.1 11
Beyond 1.1 12
SPDY 12
HTTP/2 13

iii
source-highlighter: highlight.js :numbered!:
[[For the Impatient]]
 CHAPTER 1
HTTP/2 Quick Start

When faced with something new and shiny, rarely do we want to spend the first
hours meticulously going through the manual, reading the instructions, maintenance
details, and safety advisories. We want to tear it out of the packaging, plug it in, turn
it on, and start experiencing the wonders promised on the box. HTTP/2 (h2) should
be no different.
So let’s start tinkering.

Up and Running
Realistically, you have likely been experiencing HTTP/2 on a daily basis. Open a
modern browser (Edge, Safari, Firefox, Chrome) and point it at a major web site
(Google, Facebook, Twitter) and voila! you are using HTTP/2. Truth be told, this is
likely anticlimatic and not the reason you are holding this book in your hands. Let’s
get things up and running so that you can be running the next major web site.
There are two major steps to getting an h2 server up and running:

• Get and install a web server that speaks h2

• Get and install a TLS certificate so the browser will speak h2 with the server

Neither of these are trivial, but we are going to try and make it as simple as possible.
There is a more exhaustive treatment of the subject in ???, but hopefully you are run‐
ning an h2 server by the end of this chapter.

Get a Certificate
Working with certificates is a subject that merits a book of its own. We are going to
skip right through all of the theory and try and get a certificate in your hands for

5
experimentation purposes ASAP. We will explore three methods: using online resour‐
ces, creating a cert on your own, and obtaining a cert from Let’s Encrypt. It should be
noted that the first two methods will create what is called a self-signed certificate and
are useful for testing purposes only.

Use an Online Generator

There are a number of resources online for generating a self-signed certificate. Since
you will not have generated the private key in your own secure environment, these
certs should never be used for any purpose beyond experimentation like we are doing
here. A web search will quickly get you to a couple of resources. One example can be
found at www.sslchecker.com1.
Use the tool and save the generated certificate and key to two local files. Use priv
key.pem and cert.pem respectively for now.

Self Signed
The openssl2 tool is fairly universal adn easily obtainable. There are ports for almost
evey major platform and it is what we will use to create our keys. If you have a unix/
linux or OS X (Mac) flavor machine you very likely have it installed already. Fire up
your terminal and repeat after me:
$ openssl genrsa -out key.pem 2048
$ openssl req -new -x509 -sha256 -key privkey.pem -out cert.pem -days 365 -subj \
"/CN=fake.example.org"

With this you will have a new key called provkey.pem and a new cert called cert.pem
useful for our testing.

Let’s Encrypt
Let’s Encrypt is a new player on the Certificate Authority scene having gone live with
their public beta in the fall of 2015. Their goal is to make TLS certificates availble in
an easy, automated, and inexpensive (free) manner to anyone and everyone. This is
core to the TLS Everywhere movement which can be summed up the belief that all of
our web communications should always be encrypted and authenticated. For our
purposes here, the “easy” bit is what is attractive so we can get up and running as
soon as possible.

1 https://www.sslchecker.com/csr/self_signed
2 https://www.openssl.org

6 | Chapter 1: HTTP/2 Quick Start

Though there are now many clients and libraries to choose from3 The Electronic
Frontier Foundation (EFF) maintains the Let’s Encrypt recommended client called
certbot4. Certbot is intended to make certificate acqusition and maintenance a com‐
plete hands off process doing everythign from obtaining the certificate and then
installing the certificate on your webserver for you.

In order to obtain a certificate ftom Let’s Encrypt you will need to

be able to validate your domain with them. This implies you have
control of the domain and can prove it by modifying DNS or the
Webserver to prove it to Let’s Encrypt. If you do not have a domain
or do not want to be bothered, simply use on of the self signed
method above.

Follow instructions for downloading certbot for your favorite operating system. For
the purposes of this chapter you do not need to be concerned with the webserver
choice. For linux flavors, the simplest method for most cases is to do the following on
the machine running your webserver:
$ wget https://dl.eff.org/certbot-auto
$ chmod a+x certbot-auto

Once downloaded, run certbot-auto like:

$ ./certbot-auto certonly --webroot -w <your web root> -d <your domain>
substituting your webserver filesystem root and your domain in the relevant places.
This will automatically install any needed packages, prompt you with a number of
questions, and finally if all goes well obtain the certificate from Let’s Encrypt. Your
newly minted cert and private keys will be placed in /etc/letsencrypt/live/<your
domain>:

File Description
/etc/letsencrypt/live/<your domain>/privkey.pem Your certificate’s private key
/etc/letsencrypt/live/<your domain>/cert.pem Your new certificate
/etc/letsencrypt/live/<your domain>/chain.pem The Let’s Encrypt CA Chain
/etc/letsencrypt/live/<your domain>/fullchain.pem Your new cert and the chain all in one

You will be using these files in the next step.

3 https://community.letsencrypt.org/t/list-of-client-implementations/2103
4 https://certbot.eff.org/

Get a Certificate | 7
Get and Run Your First HTTP/2 Server
There are numerous choices already out there for obtaining and running a webserver
that speaks HTTP/2. ??? goes into a fairly comprehensive list in some detail. Our goal
here is quick and simple and for that we will look towards the nghttp2 package.
nghttp2 5, developed by Tatsuhiro Tsujikawa, provides a number of useful tools for
working with and debugging HTTP/2. For now, we are interested in the nghttpd tool.
There is more information on installing nghttp2 in ??? but we’ll hit the high points
here. Install nghttp2 via your favorite package manager or (for the brave) from the
source. For example, on Ubuntu 16:
$ sudo apt-get install nghttp2
Once installed, with certificates in hand, run nghttpd as
$ ./nghttpd -v -d <webroot> <port> <key> <cert>

Where <webroot> is the path to your website, <port> is the port you want the server
to listen to, and <key> and <cert> are paths to the key and certificate you generated.
For eaxmple:
$ ./nghttpd -v -d /usr/local/www 8443 /etc/letsencrypt/live/yoursite.com/privkey.pem \
/etc/letsencrypt/live/yoursite.com/cert.pem

Pick a Browser
Finally, the reward for the hard work. Pick a modern browser and point it at your
new server. See ??? for a very comprehensive list of browsers. If you created a self
signed certificate you should see a security warning. Confirm that it is complaining
about the cert you created and accept the warnings. You should see your website now.
And it is being served over h2!

5 https://nghttp2.org

8 | Chapter 1: HTTP/2 Quick Start

 CHAPTER 2
Evolution of HTTP

In the 1930s Vannevar Bush, an electrical engineer from the United States then at
MIT’s School of Engineering, had a concern with the volume of information we were
producing relative to society’s ability to consume that information. In his essay pub‐
lished in the Atlantic Monthly in 1945 entitled, “As We May Think,” he said:
Professionally our methods of transmitting and reviewing the results of research are
generations old and by now are totally inadequate for their purpose. If the aggregate
time spent in writing scholarly works and in reading them could be evaluated, the ratio
between these amounts of time might well be startling.
—Vannevar Bush, Atlantic Monthly

He envisioned a system where our aggregate knowledge was stored on microfilm and
could be “consulted with exceeding speed and flexibility.” He further stated that this
information should have contextual associations with related topics, much in the way
the human mind links data together. His memex system was never built, but the ideas
influenced those that followed.
The term Hypertext that we take or granted today was coined around 1963 and first
published in 1965 by Ted Nelson, a software designer and visionary. He proposed the
idea of hypertext:
to mean a body of written or pictorial material interconnected in such a complex way
that it could not conveniently be presented or represented on paper. It may contain
summaries, or maps of its contents and their interrelations; it may contain annotations,
additions and footnotes from scholars who have examined it. 1
—Ted Nelson

1 T. H. Nelson, “Complex information processing: a file structure for the complex, the changing and the inde‐
terminate”, ACM ’65 Proceedings of the 1965 20th national conference

9
Nelson wanted to create a “docuverse” where information was interlinked and never
deleted and easily available to all. He built on Bush’s ideas and in the 1970s created a
prototype implementations of his project Xanadu. It was unfortunately never comple‐
ted, but provided the shoulders to stand on for those to come.
HTTP enters the picture in 1989. While at CERN, Tim Berners-Lee proposed 2 a new
system for helping keep track of the information created by the accelerators (refer‐
encing the yet to be built Large Hadron Collider) and experiments at the institution.
He embraces two concepts from Nelson: Hypertext, or “Human-readable information
linked together in an unconstrained way,” and Hypermedia a term to “indicate that
one is not bound to text.” In the proposal he discussed the creation of a server and
browsers on many machines to provide a “universal system.”

HTTP/0.9 and 1.0

HTTP/0.9 was a wonderfully simple, if limited, protocol. It had a single method
(GET), there were no headers, and it was designed to only fetch HTML (meaning no
images - just text).
Over the next few years use of HTTP grew across the world. By 1995 there were over
18,000 servers handling HTTP traffic on port 80 across the world. The protocol had
evolved well past its 0.9 roots and in 1996 RFC 19453 codified HTTP/1.0.
Version 1.0 brought a massive amount of change to the little protocol that started it
all. Whereas the 0.9 spec was about a page long, the 1.0 RFC measured in at 60 pages.
You could say it had grown from a toy into a tool. It brought in ideas that are very
familiar to us today:

• Headers
• Response Codes
• Redirects
• Errors
• Conditional request
• Content Encoding (compression)
• More request methods

and more. HTTP/1.0, though a large leap from 0.9 still had a number of known flaws
to be addressed. Most notably were the inability to keep a connection open between

2 https://www.w3.org/History/1989/proposal.html
3 “https://tools.ietf.org/html/rfc1945”

10 | Chapter 2: Evolution of HTTP

requests, the lack of a mandatory Host header, and bare bones options for caching.
These two items had consequences on how the web could scale and needed to be
addressed.

HTTP/1.1
Right on the heels of 1.0 came 1.1, the protocol that has lived on for over 20 years. It
fixed a number of the aforementioned 1.0 problems. By making the Host header
mandatory, it was now possible to perform virtual hosting or serving multiple web
properties on a singe IP address. When the new connection directives are used, a web
server was not required to close a connection after a response. This was a boon for
performance and efficiency since the browser no longer needed to reestablish the
TCP connection on every request.
Additional changes included:

• An extension of cachability headers

• An OPTIONS method
• The Upgrade header
• Range requests
• Compression with Transfer-encoding
• Pipelining
• And much much more

Pipelining is a feature that allows a client to send all of its request at

once. This may sound a bit like a preview of Multiplexing which
will come in HTTP/2. There were a couple of problems with pipe‐
lining that prevented its popularity. Servers still had to respond to
the requests in order. This meant if one request takes a long time,
this head of line blocking will get in the way of the other requests.
Additionally pipelining implementations in servers and proxies on
the internet tended to range from nonexistant (bad) to broken
(worse).

HTTP/1.1 was the result of HTTP/1.0’s success and the experience gained running
the older protocol for a few years.

RFCs for HTTP/1.1

The Internet Engineering Task Force (IETF) publishes protocol specifications in com‐
mittee created drafts called Request For Comments (RFC). These committees are open

HTTP/1.1 | 11
 to anyone with the time and inclination to participate. HTTP/1.1 was first defined in
RFC 2068, then later replaced by RFC 2616, and finally revised in RFCs 7230 through
7235.

Beyond 1.1
Since 1999 RFC 2616, which then specified HTTP/1.1, has defined the standard that
the modern web is built on. Written in stone, it did not evolve or change. The web,
however, and the way we used it continued to change in way likely unimagined by its
originators. The interactivity and utility of your average commerce site goes well
beyond the vision of an interwoven docuverse and fundamentally changes the way we
participate in our world. That evolution came despite the limitation of the protocol
that we see today.
The most tangible change we can point to is in the makeup of the web page. The
HTTP Archives only goes back to 2010, but in even that relatively short time the
change has been dramatic. Every added object adds complexity and strains a protocol
designed to request one object at a time.

SPDY
In 2009, Mike Belshe and Roberto Peon of Google proposed an alternative to HTTP
which they called SPDY ( Pronounced SPeeDY )4. SPDY was not the first proposal to
replace HTTP, but it was the most important as it moved the perceived mountain.
Before SPDY, it was thought that there was not enough will in the industry to make
breaking changes to HTTP/1.1. The effort to coordinate the changes between brows‐
ers, servers, proxies, and various middle boxes was seen to be too great. But SPDY
quickly proved that there was a desire for something more efficient and a willingness
to change.
SPDY laid the groundwork for HTTP/2 and was responsible for proving out some of
its key features such as multiplexing, framing, and header compression amongst oth‐
ers.It was integrated in relative speed into Chrome and Firefox and eventually would
be adopted by almost every major browser. Similarly, the necessary support in servers
and proxies came along at about the same pace. The desire and the will were proven
to be present.

4 http://dev.chromium.org/spdy/spdy-protocol/spdy-protocol-draft1

12 | Chapter 2: Evolution of HTTP

HTTP/2
In early 2012, the HTTP Working Group, the IETF group responsible for the HTTP
specifications, was rechartered to work on the next version of HTTP. A key portion of
their charter laid out their expectations for this new protocol:
It is expected that HTTP/2.0 will:

• Substantially and measurably improve end-user perceived latency in most cases,

over HTTP/1.1 using TCP.
• Address the “head of line blocking” problem in HTTP.
• Not require multiple connections to a server to enable parallelism, thus improving
its use of TCP, especially regarding congestion control.
• Retain the semantics of HTTP/1.1, leveraging existing documentation (see above),
including (but not limited to) HTTP methods, status codes, URIs, and where
appropriate, header fields.
• Clearly define how HTTP/2.0 interacts with HTTP/1.x, especially in intermedia‐
ries (both 2->1 and 1->2).
• Clearly identify any new extensibility points and policy for their appropriate use.5

A call for proposals was sent out and it was decided to use SDPY as a starting point
for HTTP/2.0. Finally, on May 14, 2015 RFC 7540 was published and HTTP/2 was
official.
The remainder of this book lays out the rest of the story.

5 https://datatracker.ietf.org/wg/httpbis/charter/

HTTP/2 | 13
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more in her element in her office, where she took on herself to
attend to business so vigorously, that no one would have known
there had been any change but by the initials. Felix had been of
much use to her, and had certainly gained a good deal in
consideration by the manifest reliance placed on him; and his
position among the citizens of Bexley was now a fixed and settled
thing.
Mrs. Underwood, in the inertness of grief, did not move from Centry
until she was carried up to town by her strong desire to preside at
Lady Vanderkist's confinement. She was, however, disappointed, for
Lady Mary undertook the care of her daughter-in-law; but she made
up for it as well as she could by permitting all the assiduities from
the good lady that Alda would endure, and being herself extremely
friendly and good-natured.
The first proposal had been that Cherry should go up with them and
see the pictures on the private day, but the east wind and flying
threats of rheumatism had prevented this, till Marilda, running down
to inspect her works at Centry, carried her off, undertaking, with
better knowledge than before, that she should be well cared for.
So here was the carriage at the door, and Edgar come to escort her
to the realization of the almost incredible fact that she, as well as
himself, was an artist and exhibitor. She had heard favourable
opinions, but none the less did her heart palpitate with far more of
distress than of exultation as at a strange presumptuous unnatural
position—she, who, while striving to be satisfied with faithfully doing
her best, had so much wished for success as to make it a continual
prayer, that the works of their hands might be prospered upon both,
and to feel it an effort honestly to add the clause, 'If it be thy will—if
Thou see it good for us.'
She had not seen Edgar's picture, nor himself since the concert, and
there had been some breaths of rumour which took form in the
saying that the absence of the family from Kensington Palace
Gardens had been a sad thing for him.
However that might be, he was as much at his 'Chérie's' service as
ever, though with something of the forced manner she had known in
him at moments of crisis, and which betrayed much anxiety. He
repeated to her many times on the way that Brynhild had been
unfairly dealt with in the hanging, and related anecdotes of injustice
suffered by whoever did not belong to favoured cliques, all which
made her uneasy. Of hers he said little. She knew that water-colours
at the Royal Academy exhibition received little notice, but had
obediently followed some crotchet of Mr. Renville's which had taken
her thither. Trafalgar Square was then still the locality, and when the
steps had been surmounted, and they stood between the two doors
leading to the water-colours, it was straight on that they went, for
the sight of Brynhild was the triumph and delight that Geraldine had
figured to herself for months past.
It was, as she already knew, in the second room, rather below the
privileged line; and at this early hour, the numbers of visitors were
so scanty that she could see the cocoon shaped glow of yellow flame
across the room.
'Oh! there she is! She is smaller than I thought.'
'Just what Polly said. All ladies go in for 'igh hart on the Zam zummin
scale.'
She must have hurt his feelings, she saw, or he would not have
compared her criticism with Marilda's; and as she felt that he was
watching her countenance as he led her forward and lodged her
opposite. From eager expectation her look became constrained, as it
shot through her that this was not the Brynhild of the sketch and of
her imagination. She was disappointed!
'Well, what?' asked Edgar impatiently, reading the countenance in
spite of all endeavours.
'How like Marilda!'
'What, Brynhild, the toad! So she would be. I suppose the caricature
demoralized me, and the family features are the same.'
'And Sigurd is Ferdinand.'
'Nature created him for a model.'
It was not the likeness to Marilda which gave Cherry the sense of
unfulfilled expectation and dissatisfaction. The lofty expression, the
deep awe, the weird cloud-land grandeur that she had connected
either with the sketch or her memory of it, had passed away from
the finished oil-painting; and when she had called it small, it was not
because it was cabinet sized, but because it was wanting in the
sense of majesty that can be conveyed in a gem as well as in a
colossus. What was to have been a wild scene of terror in the world
of mists would look extravagant, and neither the pose of Brynhild's
limbs nor the position of Sigurd's sword, approved themselves to her
eye as correct drawing.
Brother and sister were both far too acute, and too well used to read
each other's looks and tones, for fencing or disguise to be possible.
'You don't like it.'
'O Edgar!' much distressed, 'indeed there is a great deal very
beautiful, but somehow I had imagined it different.'
'Oh, if you came with a preconceived notion.'
'Perhaps that's it,' said Cherry, peeping through her eye-lashes, as
long ago at the great Achilles, and making them a sieve to divest the
image before her of all that her eye would condemn in spite of
herself.
'I see a great deal of beauty, but somehow I thought the whole
would have been more finished,' she said.
'Not possible. A rude half developed myth is not in keeping with the
precision of a miniature. Besides, the finish of Sigurd's armour
throws back the vague beyond.'
Her feeling had been that the Pre-Raphaelitism of the hauberk was
too like worsted stockings, and not in keeping with the Turneresque
whirl of flame and smoke around the sleeping Valkyr; but the
disloyalty of not admiring Edgar's picture was impossible to her
loving spirit; she listened and looked through her eye-lashes, till
though Brynhild's limbs were to her unassisted sense almost as
uncomfortable as those of Achilles had been, he imparted a glamour,
so that she thought she beheld it as it ought to have been, and
believed it to be so great and deep a work of art that study alone
could appreciate it.
'Yes, I see—I see it now—I could not before—but that is all the
better!'
The room was filling and they were jostled by a group diligently
working their way with their catalogue from No. 1 to No. 1200.
'What's that glaring red and yellow thing?'
'260, Brynhild. Who was she, Flo?'
'Don't you know, Mamma? That French queen who was torn to
pieces by wild horses.'
'I don't see any horses. She is all on fire.'
'I suppose she was burnt afterwards. And that's the king who did it.'
'What a horrid picture!'
'There's the intelligent public one works for,' said Edgar. 'Come and
try your luck.'
He paused, however, to show her the difference a foot's elevation
would have made to his painting; and she, with a mind more at
leisure from itself, waited not only to sympathize but to be fascinated
with the loveliness or power of more than one picture past which he
would have hurried her, with murmurs at the R.A. who had secured
the best situation.
Here they were in the water-colour room, obliged to wait, to
penetrate the throng round the lesser ones, which were so close
together that there was no distinct appropriation of the remarks.
'What a dear little thing!' 'Is it all the same child?' 'It can't be
portrait, she is so pretty.'
Edgar smiled at her, and she whispered, with great inconsistency,
'No, it can't be that. Besides, childish prettiness always pleases more
people than anything high and ideal.'
She tried to turn to the Acolyte, and two or three gentlemen yielded
place to the lame girl. 'Geraldine Underwood,' said one, making her
start, till she saw he was reading from his catalogue. 'I don't
remember her name before.'
'No, and there's so much power as well as good drawing and
expression, that I should not have thought it a woman's work.'
This, the most ambitioned praise a woman can receive, made her
indeed Cherry-red, and Edgar's beaming glance of congratulation
was most delightful.
Certainly, whatever his faults, among them was neither jealousy nor
want of affectionateness; and Cherry's success gave him unqualified
pleasure, both agreeing in the belief that she was on a level with the
public taste, while he soared too high beyond it.
Her paintings had a strength of colouring unusual in inexperienced
artists, perhaps owing to the depth of hue she had grown
accustomed to when painting for her old woman, and thus they
asserted themselves, and were not killed by their neighbours, but
rather, as Edgar said, committed slaughter all round.
Yet 'The Acolyte' was on the whole a dark picture: the Church was in
a brown dim shade, within which, however, its perspective vaultings,
arches, and tracery, were perfectly drawn, knowing where they were
going and what they meant, yet not obtruded; and the Altar
hangings, richly patterned in olive green and brown gold, were kept
back in spite of all their detail, throwing out the 'flake of fire' and the
glitter reflected on the gold ornaments, which had been drawn with
due deference to Clement's minute information, while in the
fragment of the east window just seen above, glittered a few jewels
of stained glass touched by the rising sun, and to which the subdued
colouring of the rest gave wonderful glory; and the server himself
was so tinted with grey that even his white dress did not glare, while
his face was the face of Lance, as it had been a few years back,
boyish and mirthful through all its dutiful reverence. Of course it was
not new to Edgar, but he owned that he was always struck by it
whenever he came that way; and Cherry heaved a little sigh of
parental pride and delight as she owned that her little 'server' did
look better than she had expected.
Then Edgar elbowed her to what was called at home her
'Constellation,' where she had caught Stella's sweet little head four
times over—in the seriousness of lesson-learning, with eager parted
smiling lips with which she listened to a story, with her tender
caressing expression towards the kitten she was nursing, and with
the rapt dreamy gaze that her brother's music would bring over her
countenance. All had the merit of being caught—in the first sketch—
entirely without consciousness on Stella's part; and though she had
been nailed to the positions afterwards, it had been possible to
preserve the unstudied expression that was one great charm of the
drawings, much more sketchy and suggestive than was their
companion.
It was not easy to maintain a stand before the frame that held the
four, for people must have told one another of it, and squeezed their
way to it; till the poor little artist, growing nervous at the press, was
grasping her brother tight to make him take her away. Just then
there was a kind eager greeting, 'Good morning; I am delighted to
meet you here. You must allow me to congratulate you.'
It was Mr. Grinstead, too considerate to utter a name that would
instantly have brought all eyes upon the little lame girl, whom the
gazers were almost sweeping away. He was full of that gracious
fatherly kindness that elderly men were prone to show her, and
solicitously asked where she was staying, and whether he might call
upon her; and then, taking advantage of an interval of people, he
brought her again in front of her pictures. With him on Lord Gerald's
side of her, and Edgar on the other, she felt safe enough to enter
into his kind critique, so discriminating as to gratify, improve, and
stimulate her far more than if it had been all compliment. By the
time this was over, Cherry could stand no longer, and it was time for
her visit to her sister, so the sculptor did Ferdinand's old part by
taking care of her while Edgar hunted up their cousin's brougham.
'O Edgar, aren't you coming?'
'Well! I can't say the Mynheer's ménage likes me better than I like
it.'
'Oh, Eddie, dear, do. How shall I ever get in among all those
dreadful strange servants?'
'What, the crack exhibitor, whose pictures transcend woman's
genius, afraid of a flunky or two!'
Nevertheless, he let her pull him into the carriage, laughing, and
demanding whether she could not have opposed coachman and
footman to their congeners; but he recollected the stair-case, and
was all the more amenable that in her he had the only perfectly
willing auditor of all his whys and wherefores of all Brynhild's
characteristics, all his hopes of purchasers and plans built upon her,
and (now that Brynhild was out of sight) the most profound believer
in her beauties and sublimities.
The arrival was impressive. The vista of liveries, flowers, and marble,
was so alarming, that Cherry could hardly have found courage to
make her way through them with no support but Lord Gerald's; but
when she entered the drawing-room the grandeur was instantly
mitigated by the plainly attired, gentle, motherly lady who came
forward to greet her with a kiss. 'So you are Geraldine, the only
sister I have never seen. Alda will be delighted.'
Lady Mary Murray must have been rather surprised by the sight of
'the little deformed one,' with her sweet pensive face of sunshine
and shade, and the small slender form, as shapely as that of her
sister, though leaning a little forward when walking. So kind was she,
that Cherry felt that she could quite spare Edgar when he made his
retreat, and never observed that he was not pressed to stay to see
Alda, who had a dress-maker with her, and would send down when
ready.
This gave Cherry time to become at home with Lady Mary, and to
receive some gratifying compliments upon her Constellation, united
with a little caution on the danger of making the little girl vain. 'I
hope not,' said Cherry much in earnest; 'indeed, I think Edgar and I
are mere terrors to all our pretty ones, we tease them so with
sitting.'
'The little boy in a surplice is another brother, I think I heard.'
'Yes, my brother Lance. He is gone into the business now. He was in
the Cathedral choir at Minsterham.'
'Oh! I understood that it was a portrait of the one who was in the St.
Matthew's brotherhood, in his ornaments.'
'Oh no. That was Clement; and I am sure neither of them wore
anything like that! I made out the ornaments from a book.'
'I am glad to hear it,' said Lady Mary, a little less cordially; and when
Cherry, recollecting her views, proceeded to lead away by speaking
of Brynhild, it was to be met with a kind smile and avowal that Mr.
Underwood's picture was not so easy to understand.
Then came the summons to Lady Vanderkist's room. It seemed
chiefly addressed to her mother-in-law, who, however, extended it to
Cherry, and proffered a soft, comfortable, substantial arm to help
her up the stairs.
There sat Alda, beautiful to behold in white and bright blue ribbons,
thinner than formerly, but exquisitely and delicately pretty, and so
eager in her conference with her milliner, that she could only give
Geraldine a hasty kiss, and sign her to a seat, before appealing to
Lady Mary on some point of clashing taste respecting her court
dress, which was the present subject of engrossing interest to the
younger lady, while the elder evidently did not feel greatly at home
or interested in a subject which she said had not come before her
since the maiden days of Queen Victoria. Indeed, when Alda became
excited in maintaining her own opinion, she put an end to it with
gentle but irresistible authority, dismissed the milliner, and insisted
upon the repose that Alda was inclined to laugh to scorn.
After an exhibition of the little four weeks daughter, a pretty
creature, in whom mother as well as grandmother showed plenty of
pride, the two sisters were left to a tête à tête, Cherry feeling almost
hypocritical when Lady Mary supposed them to be so eager for it.
Rather languidly Alda inquired after everyone at home, chiefly after
Wilmet and Captain Harewood, where he was, and what chance
there was of his return. Then Cherry talked of the great home
subject of interest, namely that the organ was actually ordered; but
Lady Vanderkist attended little, and it was safer as well as more
entertaining to let her talk of herself; and she seemed to have had a
very gay winter, to have been recognized as the great lady of her
neighbourhood as well as bride and beauty, and to have had much
sporting society at home and abroad, while now she looked forward
to a season among the circles which had always been the object of
her ambition. No wonder that the cares and joys of Bexley occupied
her but little, and that it was not much to her whether Felix was to
be a town-councillor. However, she was now among people who
considered it an honour to have a sister exhibiting at the Academy,
and she professed much eagerness to see the Constellation. 'But
what could have induced Edgar to send such a picture?' she added;
'Adrian says it is the maddest thing he ever saw in his life.'
'It takes some study,' said Cherry, subduing her indignation.
'I should think it had taken very little study.'
'You have not seen it?'
'No of course not yet. I shall go as soon as I can, it is so stupid not
to be able to talk of the Exhibition; but I don't look forward to
Edgar's picture at all, I hear the drawing and painting are so
disgraceful.'
'There is an apparent carelessness that enhances effect.'
'Standing up for Edgar as usual, Cherry! But if you still have any
influence with him, this is the time to use it. Adrian hears that he
has taken up with a lot of tremendous scamps. Indeed, he saw him
on the Derby day betting away with all his might. Now he cannot
stand that long, and Adrian says I must let him know that when he
gets into difficulties, he need not expect to fall back upon us.'
'The last thing he is likely to do,' said Cherry, burning with
suppressed wrath.
'Well, give him a warning, and tell him to be careful how he comes
in Adrian's way. It upsets me so when he comes in and asks where I
think he has met my precious brother.'
'I don't see,' cried Geraldine, breaking out, 'why a place should be
worse for one than for the other.'
Alda drew up her head with a little contempt, but instead of flying
out as when they were on an equality, she merely said, 'Don't you?'
Then Geraldine recollected herself, and tried to say meekly
something about the difference made by being able to afford it; but
though Alda was kinder than usual, and changed the subject, there
was no more real comfort throughout the visit, and she went home
to be unhappy. Here it was as hard as ever to behave properly to
Alda. Her presence seemed always to rouse the spitfire propensities,
of which Cherry would otherwise have been unconscious; and what
was far worse was the misgiving that she had only spoken too truly.
Cherry's heart sank, scold it as she would for sinking. Her will might
adore Brynhild, but her sense assured her of grievous carelessness
in the execution; and when she recalled Edgar himself, she knew
there was something indefinable about him that confirmed Alda's
suspicions.
Her own success had been real and brilliant, but through it all her
heart ached with apprehension as she became more conscious of
the difference with which her doings and his were regarded, and
could not always succeed in attributing everything to personal
politeness to herself. She was staying on to take a few more studies,
and to collect materials for the illustrations of a serial tale, an order
for which Mr. Renville had procured her; and she found herself quite
at home at those pleasant little parties at his house, treated as one
of the confraternity who had won her standing, and with new
comers begging to be introduced. Mr. Grinstead was always there,
and a real friend and protector among strangers; and all was
delightful except the reserve about Brynhild, and the frequent
absence of Edgar, who used once to be always welcome, and like a
son of the house.
Even at Lady Vanderkist's, Geraldine found herself a mild sort of lion,
when Alda came out into the world and found that her sister was
viewed as having done something remarkable.
Not that there was much intercourse. There was an invitation to the
christening, extended even to Edgar and the school girls; but Lady
Mary was more the mover in this than Alda herself. Edgar excused
himself, and it was not a very brilliant festivity. Indeed, one anxiety
on Geraldine's part was lest Lady Mary's engaging kindness should
embolden Angela to break out aloud in the wrath and indignation
that stiffened her neck and shone in her eyes at the bare dull
christening on a week-day—standing all alone—in an ugly 'pewy'
church. A luncheon, at which the health of Mary Alda Vanderkist was
drunk, was the only honour to the occasion; and Sir Adrian, though
not actually uncivil, looked as usual bored, and left the amiable and
gracious to his wife and mother.
Mrs. Underwood was indignant, and abused him all the way home.
All Lady Mary's kindness had not hidden from her the fact that Alda
was ready to spurn aside the scaffolding by which she had mounted
to her present elevation, and was only withheld from so doing in
consideration of Marilda's wealth; while Marilda, with her unfailing
good nature and instinct of defence towards Alda, declared that all
arose out of anxiety lest Sir Adrian should be wearied with them,
and bluntly declared, 'You know, Mamma, we are very tiresome
people; not like Cherry here, who always has something to say.'
'Oh! Cherry is a genius, but without that people needn't be tiresome,
as you call it, to those that brought them up, and made them what
they are.'
'We didn't bring up Sir Adrian, Mamma.'
'I'm not talking of Sir Adrian. One expects nothing from a fine young
man about town; but, Alda, that was like my own child to me, never
so much as asking us to see her in her court dress!'
'She ought to have done that,' said Cherry, who had been reckoning
the quantity of pleasure that could have been so cheaply given.
'Now depend on it, Sir Adrian doesn't like his wife to make a show of
herself,' cried Marilda, hitting on a subtly delicate motive rather than
have no weapon of defence for this favourite cousin. Certainly there
never had been a fuller adoption as sister and brother than hers had
been of Alda and Edgar from the moment they had been given to
her. She respected and trusted Felix, and was free and kind with
Cherry and all the rest; but her affection for these two was quite a
different thing, and resolutely blind; and this—just as last year with
Wilmet—made her comfortable to Cherry, since she too ignored all
that could be against Edgar, and fought his battles fiercely when
mother or grandmother picked up reports of his idleness, of the ill
success of the National Minstrelsy, in which he was somehow
concerned, and of the unsatisfactory habits into which he was
falling.
Very dull were the evenings when he did not come, and only worn
through by reading aloud. No doubt the house in its quiet widowed
condition was far less attractive than of old, and that the lively
young man should neglect it, even with his favourite sister there,
was more to be regretted than wondered at; but whenever he did
come, he was greeted with delight, petted and made much of, as if
with the desire to secure that presence, though it was not always as
much of a sunbeam as of old.
One afternoon, however, he hurried in in a state of ecstasy. A
wealthy manufacturer, noted as a purchaser of modern pictures, was
in treaty for Brynhild; and Edgar looked on his fame and fortune as
made. Three days ago the taste of the cotton-spinner had been
denounced as dependant on fashion and notoriety. Now his
discernment had gone up to the skies, and Edgar was wandering
about the room in his exultation, talking to Cherry of a winter trip to
Rome, and ready to promise everything to everybody. Only the next
day, however, came out the principal art journal, containing the long
expected mention of Brynhild.
Alas! No. 260 was disposed of in two lines as 'the flaming production
of a tyro in suspense between the Pre-Raphaelite and the
Turneresque, who in the meantime had better study the primary
rules of drawing.'
Poor Geraldine! She shed a great many bitter tears over the cruel
verdict, while Marilda characterised it as wicked, ill-natured, and
spiteful; and when Edgar came to them they received him with
tenderness and sympathy that would have befitted his sentence in
his own proper person.
He was crushed as he had never been before. He did not abuse his
critic. Indeed, he had candour enough to tell Cherry that her
editorial experience might have taught her the need of shedding a
little life-blood now and then for the public to slake their thirst upon,
but this very charitableness almost proved it to be his life-blood.
The intended purchaser had not gone so far but that he could draw
back, and this breath of hostility had effectually blown him away. He
had broken off his treaty and declined Brynhild.
'I don't blame him,' dejectedly said Edgar; 'all the other critics will
yelp in suit, and he would be the laughing-stock of his fellow cotton-
lords; but he has done for me. The very sight of "Sold" upon my
picture would have saved me.'
'Shall you be worse off than before?' asked Marilda.
'Of course one is, for having been led to make engagements under a
deception. But there—never mind. Don't vex yourselves about me.
I'm the most miserable dog in the world, and that's all about it.'
'Dear Edgar,' said Cherry, smoothing his hand, 'maybe the opposition
paper will take up another line.'
'Not a hope, Cherry. That demolished me long ago, only they were
all too merciful to show it to you. This was my last chance.'
He lay back in a sort of collapse of complete depression.
Marilda, meanwhile, sat writing at her davenport, and presently
rising, came towards him with a closed envelope. 'There, Edgar,' she
said. 'Now put "Sold" on your picture.'
'Polly, Polly, you're a girl of gold!' cried Edgar, starting to his feet.
'You've made a man of me. I must give you a kiss.'
To Cherry's amazement, a little to her horror, the kiss was given;
Marilda only bluntly and gruffly saying, 'There then, only take
warning, and don't be a fool again.'
'Your warning comes sweetened, my dear,' said Edgar, 'and it ought
to save me. I don't mind confessing that I was in a most awful fix.
Well, you have Brynhild, and we'll hang her over the drawing-room
door for a scare-crow, only don't let in any Sigurds who won't be as
good as you are to art out at elbows!—Good-bye, my Cherry ripe. I
must betake me to shaking off the toils of the hunter, now that this
good mouse has nibbled them through.'
Cherry had not spirit to rally him on his quiet assumption of the
lion's part. And her acceptance of his embrace was not warm. To the
delicate sense nurtured under Felix, the whole proceeding was as
painful as it was strange; and she was longing to have sold her
pictures so as to relieve him herself. True, she had many visions, but
she would much have preferred freeing her brother herself to seeing
Marilda make a purchase to which she was indifferent, palpably for
the sake of assisting him.
Maybe he saw the questioning look in her face, and therefore
hurried away so fast that Marilda broke out in regret at having failed
to secure him for an intended visit to Sydenham the next day, when
part of the day would be spent with friends and the rest in the
Crystal Palace. It was the sort of expedition Edgar hated, and
Cherry's pride rose enough against the notion of his being purchased
to be dragged at Marilda's chariot wheels to prevent her from
seconding the proposal to write and ask for his company.
She would have been glad enough of his arm through the long
galleries. The heartless glare and plaster showiness tired her to
death; nor were Mrs. Underwood's friends particularly restful.
When she came home late in the evening, she had hardly energy to
open a note that lay on the table; but when she had wearily
unfolded it, she screamed with amazement and delight. Mr. Renville
wrote to tell her of an offer for the Acolyte, and to propose to her to
meet the intending purchaser at his studio on the second day
ensuing, at twelve o'clock, to consult about an order for a
companion water-colour, the subject likewise taken from the Silver
Store, the price of the two together to be £150. Here opened the
fulfilment of the longing of her heart, the lightening of Felix's
burthen! Her dreams were a strange maze of beautiful forms to be
drawn, and of benefits to be heaped on all the world; and her first
measure in the morning was to write a dispatch to Edgar, begging
him to come and support her at the interview, and almost laying her
gains at his feet.
All day she expected him to show himself, full of advice, joy, and
congratulation; but he came not. Her note must have missed him,
she supposed; and she had to experience the lack of sympathy, for
Spooner had come almost before breakfast was over, and Marilda
had immediately gone back with him into the City; and Mrs.
Underwood was not sure whether it were comifo to be elated about
selling a picture, and had no council to give between Cherry's
sketches of the robin with the wheat-ear, the monk and his olive
tree, the blessing of the swallows, or the widow Euphrasia and her
straw.
When Marilda did come home, she was more glum than Cherry had
ever seen her. She would not even guess why Edgar made no
answer, but advised that no one should think about it. Man could not
be always dancing after woman. She was in no better humour in the
morning, when Cherry expressed her security that though he might
have come home too late to answer her note, he would not fail her
at the appointment.
No such thing, he did not come for her; nor did she find him at the
studio, where Mr. Renville was however a perfectly kind and
sufficient protector, in the arrangements with the courteous and
gracious old nobleman who viewed it as a duty to encourage art,
and intended the pictures to adorn his daughter's drawing-room.
The choice fell on Cherry's favourite, the red-breast, and altogether
the interview would have filled her with transport if only Edgar had
been there to share it. She could not believe him to be so changed
as to neglect her out of mortification at the contrast between her
success and his own; but the bare idea poisoned the laudatory
critique in the Times of her two productions.
It was Mrs Kedge's birthday, when her family always dined with her
at her old-fashioned hour of five. When they set off, Cherry faltered
an entreaty that they might call and inquire for her brother at his
lodgings, but this was so curtly, almost harshly, negatived, that she
feared that she had unwittingly proposed something improper. Still
there remained the chance of his coming to the festival, where he
was certain of a welcome. It would be so like his good nature, that
Cherry never relinquished the hope through the hot stuffy dinner,
when, after the two elder ladies had sighed, shed a few natural
tears, but wiped them soon, over the absence of poor Mr.
Underwood, they took to City gossip, occasionally rallying the two
young ladies on their silence and abstraction; Mrs. Kedge contriving
to joke at her grand-daughter's supposed loss of her 'eart, and at
Cherry for having made such a conquest with her hart.
Just as dessert came in, and Geraldine was reflecting with a sort of
dreamy despair that it was the hour for driving in the park, there
came a thundering knock, and Cherry bounded on her chair,
exclaiming, 'There's Edgar!' while Mrs. Kedge cried out, laughing,
'Just like him! I knew he'd be in time for my preserved ginger. Ah!
Mr. Hedgar, trust to—What! isn't it him? Who is it, Mary?' handing
the card to her.
'Mr. Travis!' Marilda and the maid exclaimed at the same time; and
the next moment he stood before the quartette, receiving a cordial
welcome from all; for though Mrs. Underwood might bridle a little,
she remembered that Alda was safely disposed of, and that he was
now an undoubted millionaire depending on no one's good-will.
Geraldine was flushed, and quivering between pleasure, shame, and
the moment's disappointment; and Marilda's broad face flashed for a
moment with a look of indescribable illumination and relief, then
subsided into its usual almost stolid calm.
For himself, he looked more like what he had been as Peter Brown's
clerk than the Life-guardsman, for he had outgrown the boyish
display of ornament, though he had never lost the fine military
bearing that so well became his figure; but he now had a grand
black beard, which made him more romantic-looking than ever. His
countenance was as usual grave, but not so depressed or languid as
formerly, and indeed it lighted into glad animation at the unexpected
sight of Geraldine, as he wrung her hand with the fervour of a
brother. He sat down; but except to drink Mrs. Kedge's health he
accepted none of the eager offers of hospitality, but said he was to
dine with Mr. Brown at eight o'clock. He had come home on
business, and not being able to wind up his uncle's affairs quickly,
thought he should have to spend his time between England and
America for a good while to come; but he hoped to run down and
see Felix, 'and to hear about the organ.' Cherry had so much to tell
him about the building of it, and of Lance's delight in the prospect,
that she forgot her anxieties for the moment, till he asked after the
success of the concert, and she had to tell him of Edgar and his
stars. He looked at his watch, and said he should have time to see
after Edgar before dinner. 'Ah, do!' said Cherry; 'and find out
whether he got my note, I haven't seen him these four days!'
There was a break-up from the dining-room; and Ferdinand, smiling
a sort of apology to Mrs. Kedge, offered his arm to Cherry to take
her up to the drawing-room, where except on these great occasions
no one ever sat; Marilda managed to linger on the stairs, so as to
intercept him on his way down.
'Mr. Travis,' she said, 'you will do me a great favour, if you will call on
me at our office between ten and twelve to-morrow. Can you?'
'Certainly,' he replied, much surprised; but she flew up the stairs
before any more could be said.
She was at her counting-house in full time, sitting at the library-table
in the private room, just like her father, opening letters and jotting
on them the replies to be made by her clerks, without often needing
to take counsel with Spooner.
At ten o'clock a clerk brought up Mr. Travis, and he was soon seated
opposite to her, not quite so unprepared as on the previous day.
'Thank you for coming,' she said; 'I knew you were the only person
whom I could trust in for help.'
'I shall be very happy,' he began. 'Is it about Edgar Underwood?'
'Do you know anything?'
'Only that no one at his rooms seems to know where he is.'
'Ah!' (as if expecting this). 'Now, I know you would do anything for
Felix Underwood and the rest, and can keep silence. To speak would
be worse than anything.' He bent his head: and she went on, 'Read
that. No, you won't understand it;' then collecting herself, 'Poor
Edgar! you know what he is, and how he can't help running into
debt. We gave him his tastes, and it is our fault. This year he
managed to do a picture, an odd red and yellow looking thing, but
very fine, with a lady fast asleep in the middle of a fire. Well, he
thought he had sold it, and made sure of the price, when some
spiteful newspaper abused it, and the shabby man was off his
bargain, and left the picture on his hands. He was so frightfully
downcast, and I had reason to think him so hard up, that I thought
I'd take the picture off his hands; and so I popped a cheque for a
hundred, done up in an envelope, into his hand, not telling him what
it was—more's the pity. We were out all the next day, and he called
and wanted to find out where we were gone, but the footman is
stupidity itself, and could not tell him. He came three times; but we
were racketting at that miserable Sydenham, and did not get home
till eleven. If he had only come in and waited! The next day came
Spooner to me in a terrible rage. Now, promise, Mr. Travis, that this
is never mentioned. On your honour!'
'On my honour. Never!'
'My cheque had been presented with the one hundred changed into
four. The clerk at the bank doubted it, and had come here, and
Spooner came to Kensington about it. I believe I went nearer to a lie
than ever I did before; I said it was all right, and stood to it so that
they both had to be pacified. You see,' as she saw how shocked
Ferdinand was, 'he was in great difficulties, and he only meant it for
a trick which would have been explained directly, if only I had not
been so unfortunately out of reach.'
'You don't mean that you would overlook it?'
'Well, it seems that I was altogether wrong about the value, as
pictures go. Of course I thought it rather too bad, and meant to give
him a piece of my mind and frighten him thoroughly; but ever since
poor Cherry has been pining, and wondering at his not coming; and
yesterday I got this—addressed here, no doubt that Cherry might
not see it, but marked private to keep Spooner's hands off.'
She thrust a sheet of paper into his hand.

DEAR MARILDA,
Had I seen you yesterday, I should not be in my present plight.
I rehearse continually in my own ears the assault I had in
readiness for you for your ignorance of the market price of art.
Brynhild may be worthless, but if she be worth a penny, she is
worth £250, which was what that gay deceiver was to have
given. I had liabilities which I had staved off; indeed, my villain
of a landlord only refrained from seizing my goods and chattels
 on the promise of the cash instanter. Other debts I durst not
face. All that was left of your father's bequest is gone in the
smash of the National Minstrelsy. County courts yawned on me,
and only promptitude could save me. But verily I would not
have taken a sheep when a lamb would have sufficed the first
wolf, if one would have lent itself to transformation into
anything but a cool four. Your round hand has been the ruin of
me, Polly. It must have been the loop of your e that undid me.
Nevertheless, I had the odd £150 in my pocket to hand over as
your rightful change, (and maybe have begged of you,) when
thrice I failed in finding you; and as I was coming this very
morning—or was it yesterday? I'm all in a maze—I saw Spooner
dash by in a cab, and knew it was all up with me!
Don't believe so badly of me as he has told you, dear old Poll. I
have put myself out of his reach that he may have the less
chance to break Felix's heart. For myself, I don't care a rap what
becomes of me; but if it be not too late, I implore you to screen
him and poor little Geraldine from the knowledge. Let them
think it a simple flight from creditors—true enough in all
conscience, as I fear they will soon find.
If it have got wind, I need not beg you to spare them and let
Lance know that I am thankful to the 'early piety' or whatever it
was that kept him out of the scrape. Some day all shall be
repaid; but until then you have seen and heard the last of—your
not ungrateful in heart, however ungrateful in deed—the most
miserable and unlucky of dogs,
T.E.U.

'Where was this posted?' asked Ferdinand.

'At Ostend. Here's the post-mark.'
'Has he sent back the £150?'
'Oh no; of course he must have that to go on with.'
'It would have been more like repentance if he had sent it.'
'No, no; he couldn't. He would have had nothing to live on. Besides,
it makes no real difference. Don't you turn against him, Mr. Travis,
for I have no one else to trust to. I can't tell Felix; for it might do
him serious harm in his business, and he might not consent to hush
it up. Then Clement is a formal prig; and Lance is a boy, and couldn't
get away. Nobody but you can do any good.'
'And what is it that you wish me to do?'
'I wanted your advice, first of all; I had no one I could venture to
talk to, lest he might think some dreadful thing his duty, and go and
tell!'
'There can be no palliating the criminality of the act,' said Ferdinand
gravely; 'but for the sake of the—the innocent—' (his lip quivered at
the word,) 'it may well be concealed, since you are so generous.
Vanderkist might make a cruel use of it.'
'And I think it would kill Cherry. What I wished was—since one can't
write with no address—if any one could go after him, and tell him
that not a soul knows. I do believe now, after this shock, he might
be sobered and make a new start; not here perhaps—'
'I'll go!' cried Ferdinand. 'I'll do my business with Brown, and start by
to-night's steamer. Do you know where he is likely to be?'
'His wish has always been for Italy, but it is hardly the season; and
my dread is of his going to Hesse Homburg, or Baden, or some of
those places, hoping to retrieve this money.'
'I'll look, I'll make every inquiry. I'll never rest till I have found him!'
said Ferdinand, with the earnestness of one delighted to have found
the means of rendering an important service to his dearest friends.
'I felt sure that you could and would, from the moment I saw you,'
said Marilda, 'When your card came in, there seemed to open a way
out of this dreadful black misery.'
'Remember,' said Ferdinand, 'it would not be right to bring him home
at once on the former terms. You forgive him, and for the sake of his
family you do not expose him; but he ought not to be reinstated.'
'Not only for his family's sake—for his own!' cried Marilda. 'He is just
like my brother—it was only between brother and sister. But you are
right,' she added, as the man's grave look of severity recalled her
from her sisterly championship; 'it would only be running him into
danger again. He had much better go and study in Italy; and he can
be helped there, if he will only keep out of mischief.'
She then mentioned all the haunts of his she knew of in Belgium and
Germany; Geraldine might know more, but how was she to be told?
Marilda had a perfect terror of renewing the condition into which she
had last year been thrown, and besides feared her quickness of eye
might discover the secret. She hoped to keep her in ignorance till
Ferdinand could send home tidings, and make Edgar write what
would be some comfort after the suspense; but when the time that,
at the lowest computation, must elapse before anything could be
heard was reckoned, they both felt that it was cruelty to keep Cherry
in her present state. A week more would be enough to destroy her.
But Marilda, though a strong-minded woman enough ordinarily,
shrunk with dismay from telling her. Should Felix be written to?
There was no doubt that so soon as he heard the tidings from
Cherry, or otherwise, he would hurry up to investigate and to take
her home; so that to ask him to come and break it to her was hardly
giving him unreasonable trouble. Besides the secret might be safer,
so managed. Thus, the two generous spirits who sat in council first
destroyed poor Edgar's letter, lest it should ever serve as evidence
against him; and then Marilda wrote—

MY DEAR FELIX,

Geraldine will have told you that we have not seen Edgar for
some time. From a note received from him, I have reason to
believe that debts are the cause of his flight. Mr. Travis is kind
enough to follow and see what can be done; but I do not know
how to tell poor Cherry, and if you will come up I will meet you
at the station at 11.30.
 Your affectionate cousin,
M.A. UNDERWOOD.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE SCULPTOR.

'Her heart, her life, her future,

Her genius, only meant
Another thing to give him,
And be therewith content.'
A.A. Proctor.

By the time Felix could obey Marilda's missive, and entered Cherry's
sitting-room, she had come to such a state of mind, that not even
his pale, fixed, mournful face was needed to make her lie back in her
chair, gazing piteously up at him, murmuring, 'O Felix, what can it
be? What has become of him?'
'Marilda has heard from him,' said Felix, kneeling down by her, and
holding her hands.
'Heard! Oh, why did she not tell me?'
'She feared to pain you. My poor Cherry, nothing has happened to
him; but his debts have come to a crisis, and he is gone off to the
Continent. That good fellow, Fernan, is gone after him, to see what
can be done for him.'
'And he wrote to Marilda?' asked Cherry, greatly bewildered.
'Yes; from Ostend.'
'He wrote to her! Did you see the letter?'
'No, she had made away with it. She was so shy and short about it,
that, Cherry, I suspect that distress had brought poor Edgar, as a
last resource, to try whether she would accept him.'
'Oh!' cried Cherry, starting forward with conviction, 'that would
account for it all!' And she told of all that had passed about Brynhild,
now ten days ago—Edgar's despair, Marilda's ready assistance, and
the manner of acknowledging it; and both agreed that there was
strong presumption that he had taken her kindness as
encouragement to venture on a proposal. This would fully account
for her silence and ill humour; and the delusion, perfectly
unsuspected by her, was the best possible auxiliary in guarding her
secret, by preventing the brother and sister from pushing her hard
with inquiries, and sufficiently explaining whatever was mysterious.
Indeed, if Edgar had had the face to make the proposal, there was
some grace in the shame that had caused his disappearance; and
luckily for Marilda, Cherry was far too modest and shame-faced to
allude to her own suspicions. She only longed exceedingly for home,
and yet could not bear to leave the readiest place for receiving
intelligence.
Felix could not of course rest without doing his part towards
inquiring, and went off to Edgar's lodgings, and also in quest of the
National Minstrelsy people, whom Lance had assured him to be the
most likely to give him information. He came back depressed and
jaded, and went straight to his sister's room. She could see in a
moment that he had found out nothing.
'Nothing! The National Minstrelsy shut up a month ago. Allen and his
family had left their lodgings, and given no address. I tried the post-
office, but they grinned at me, and said many gentlemen came
inquiring. I went to two or three music-shops, and asked after him
and after the Hungarians, but with no better success; no one knew
anything about them. Then I found my way to his lodgings.'
'Ah! I wanted so much to have called there, but Marilda would not
let me.'
'As well you did not. Did you know that he had his rooms in
partnership?'
'No—never!'
'Nor heard him speak of a man—an artist, named Malone?'
'Yes. I have heard of him. He has got two pictures in the British
Institution. Poor Edgar wanted me to admire them, but I couldn't;
they are Scripture subjects—Ruth and Rachel—made coarse and
vulgar by being treated with vile reality—looking like Jewish women
out of fruit-shops. He always said Tony Malone was the best fellow in
the world, but he never told me he lived with him.'
'I was quite taken by surprise. The poor little miserable looking maid
said Mr. Underwood had not been there for ten days; and when I
said I was his brother and wanted to ask some questions, she
fetched her mistress, who said he had paid up just before he went
away, but that he had given no notice, so there was this ten days. Of
course this was reasonable; besides, I wanted to bring home his
things; so she took me up to his rooms while she went to make out
his bill, and I thought entirely that I had come wrong, for I found
myself in such a den as you can hardly conceive—light enough of
course, but with the most wonderful medley of things imaginable,
and in the midst a table with breakfast, and a brandy bottle; a great
brawny sailor, half stripped, lying on the floor, a model for Samson,
or Hercules, or somebody; and this man with a palette on his thumb,
a tremendous red beard, and black elf locks sticking out all manner
of ways. And that was the place he wanted to take Lance to!'
'He wouldn't have let it get bad if Lance had been with him. Besides,
you old bachelor, don't you know that an artist must live in a mess
and have models?'
'Of course, I know that, Cherry. I did not expect things to be what
your friend Renville makes them for his young ladies; but the odour
of spirits, the whole air and aspect of the place, had something that
gave me a sense of hopelessness and dissipation, when I found that
those really were Edgar's quarters, and that he had concealed his
sharing them with this Malone ever since he left Renville. The man
behaved very well to me, I will say that for him, as soon as we had
made each other out, and seemed very fond and rather proud of
Tom, as he chose to call Edgar; but he is a prodigious talker, and a
rough coarse kind of fellow, exactly what I couldn't have fancied
Edgar putting up with.'
'I dare say it was out of good nature.'
'Half of it, no doubt; indeed, he gave me to understand as much.
Edgar can't but be kind wherever he goes; even that wretched little
slavey cried when I gave her a shilling for helping his things into a
cab, and she found he was never coming back! I should think he had
spoken the only kind words she had ever heard in her life.'
'But this man must have told you something! Had he no notion
where he is gone?'
'None at all! He knew thus much, that Edgar came into his room
about ten o'clock in the morning—he couldn't tell what day, but we
made it out it must have been on Thursday the 3rd—'
'The day after we went to Sydenham. Well!'
'—Looking pale and scared, and saying, "I'm done for, old fellow—
I'm off!" That is all he is clear of, for he was just waked and fast
asleep again directly.'
'At ten o'clock in the morning!'
'Well, Cherry, I'm afraid there had been a carouse the night before.
Edgar had sold his picture, you see, and had cleared off old scores—
a few of them, at least. He was restless—Malone said in and out—all
the day before; he could not make him out. I fancy he had sent his
letter to Marilda, and was awaiting a reply, which she must have
sent, or he have called for, early the next morning; and after holding
off all day from the jollification in honour of the sale of his picture,
and deputing Malone and his other friends to hold it without him, he
joined them at the theatre towards ten o'clock, and went to a cider
cellar with them afterwards, where I should gather that he was in a
state of reckless merriment, but quite sober—yes, Malone eagerly
assured me of that, as if that were a merit to be proud of in my
father's son! Well, poor fellow!' added Felix, his bitter tone changing
to sorrow, 'he seems only to have thrown himself down on his bed
without undressing; but Malone, who made no secret of having been
"screwed" himself, only knew of his looking in in the morning. He
had driven up, it seems, in a cab, which he kept waiting—not ten
minutes, the landlady says—and he carried off his violin case and
about as many clothes, I should imagine, as he could stuff into his
portmanteau in the time—not by any means all; but one thing at
least you will be glad to hear of, Cherry, the photograph of my
father! Yes, I am quite certain of it; for when Malone was helping me
to collect the other little matters out of his little hole of a bed-room,
he said, when we came to the mantel-piece, "Yes, that's the only
thing he has taken—the photo that stood there; a parson far gone in
decline, the very moral of himself—your father, wasn't it?"'
'At least that is a comfort! Poor Edgar, I am sure he will soon write,
even if Ferdinand misses him. You have brought his things?'
'Only his clothes, his sketches, and a book or two. His jewellery—he
used to have a good deal, I think.'
'Never so much as Fernan, but in better taste.'
'That was gone. I thought it right to take an inventory of what I took
away, and get it attested by the landlady and Malone; and I left it
with them, in case the creditors should think I had taken anything of
value.'
'The creditors, ah!'
'Yes. I have brought a carpet-bag stuffed choke full of bills, as heavy
as I could carry, though of course many are the same over again.
Time enough to look them over at home.'
'And paying?'
'No. I am not liable for them.'
'But, Felix, you cannot let his name be dishonoured!'
'My dear Cherry, that is talk out of books. I have no right to give
away what barely suffices for maintaining and educating the younger
ones, for the luxury of satisfying these claims and clearing Edgar's
name. It would be robbing the innocent for the sake of the guilty.'
'O Felix, how can you?'
'Guilty at least of extravagance and recklessness, Cherry, though in a
generous way. He had paid up, as I told you, for the lodging—all for
Malone as well as himself; and when the landlady brought up an
exorbitant bill, charging my country innocence three months in
advance, Malone fought her with such vehemence, that I never
came in for such a battle royal, and was ready to cut and run, only
to be quit of the pair of them; and after all she subsided, and was
content and civil with only a fortnight in advance!'
'I think a great deal must have been the fault of those musical
people. I know Edgar risked some of Mr. Underwood's money with
them.'
'All, I believe, that he did not owe, or was not forced to pay
immediately, and that was a regular smash; but I do not think he
was liable for any of their debts. These looked to me more like
personal luxuries.'
'Well, Felix, if you will not pay them, I will, as I can, and when I can.'
'Do not say I will not, Cherry, but ask yourself whether I ought either
to incur a debt myself, to trench on the capital of the business, or
take home the children from school. You know, for we have tried,
that stinting more than we do already becomes privation; such as,
though we elder ones might willingly endure it for our feelings' sake,
exacerbates the younger ones, and really would be unjust towards
them.'
Cherry hung her head, with tears in her eyes. 'And is that just to the
creditors?' she said.
'Well, Cherry, I cannot say I have much pity for the tradesmen who
trust such a young gentleman as Edgar. If it be their system, depend
upon it, they have means of compensation. Chérie, sweet, indeed I
am not hard-hearted, I would cut off my right hand to bring that
dear boy back a free man. When we hear from him—and I have
looked over those miserable bills—I may find some means of
compounding with the creditors; but I cannot despoil Angel and
Bernard and Stella of education or comfort for what he has done.'
'But I can—I will—I may,' cried Cherry, with excitement; 'I shall be
able to do it all; Mr. Renville said I might make £300 a year, and that
would soon do it! You will not hinder me, Felix?'
'No,' he said, kissing her; 'it's not the way in which your earnings
ought to go, my Cherry; but you are quite free, and it will make you
happier, I know.'
'And you will not let Marilda help?'
'No, not if it can be helped without wounding her too much. You see
she is taking her own measures through Travis.'
'I could not endure her doing it,' said Cherry, glowing with a sort of
pride. 'And I am the one who ought. My drawing would have been
worth just nothing at all but for him; and all this success is through
him, and it is so cruel he can't have it, when it signifies so much
more.'
'So Sir Bors always thinks,' said Felix, fondling her; but true to his
own faith, he continued, 'But Edgar is not past the age for success
yet. Only three-and-twenty, remember, and this grievous lesson may
be just the making of him. We know he has a warm heart and plenty
of power; and though we must make up our minds not to see him
for a good while, he will come home from Italy some day a made
man.'
'Oh yes, his sketch of Brynhild showed that he could do anything. Do
you know, I think that having such a companion as that Mr. Malone
almost accounts for his having gone wrong. If he can only fall in
with some real nice companions! If he would board at Munich with
some family like the dear Frau Renville's. What a letter we will write
to cheer the poor dear fellow up!'
Felix and Geraldine never failed one another in that cardinal article
of theirs, trust in Edgar's genius, and in the love that hoped all
things, believed all things, and endured all things from him—all
things personal, namely, for Felix never entirely overlooked the
having tried to tempt away Lance into the life of which one passing
glimpse was enough for his fastidious home-bred spirit, unable to
appreciate the fascination of freedom and unconventionality.
Altogether they had talked themselves into hope and consolation
that surprised Marilda, when, after waiting till her patience could
endure no longer, she knocked at the door, to ask whether Felix had
discovered any clue by which Edgar could be traced.
It was one of those requitals of generosity that are felt inadequate
because the generosity is really unsuspected. Felix and Cherry could
not be as unreserved with her as if they had felt her a sister and one
of themselves, and not as one whose bounty Edgar had abused.
They did not—nor was it in the nature of things that they could—
understand that Marilda's feelings towards him were as fraternal as
their own, nay, had the force of exclusiveness, and the tenderness of
protection; and so, though Felix replied to her inquiries, it was not
with the detail and confidence he had shown towards his sister; and
the more she questioned and remarked, the more they both felt
inclined to shrink into themselves. In fact, they knew so little worse
of him than before, that after the ten days' agony there was a sort
of reaction, without much visible weight on their spirits. Felix had
business which made it needful to stay another day; and as he was
going out Cherry begged him to take charge of a small box
containing a cast which Mr. Grinstead had lent her to copy, and she
did not like to entrust to any chance hand.
'If you would send in your name,' she said, 'I think he would let you
see his studio, and I do so want you to see his figure of Mercy
knocking at the wicket-gate.'
'I thought he never did admit strangers.'
'Oh! Geraldine is favoured,' said Mrs. Underwood, with a laugh.
'Depend upon it, anyone belonging to her will have the entray. But
go, go by all means. They say his house is a perfect little bijou.—
Isn't it, Geraldine? She went to a party there, you know, chaperoned
by Mrs. Renville, and met Lord de Vigny.'
Felix knew all about it, much better than did Mrs. Underwood—that
little select dinner of the élite of the world of art and genius, to
which Mr. Grinstead had asked Cherry about a fortnight ago, and
which she had described with such delight. He had not much heart
for strangers and works of art at that moment, but he could not
refuse Cherry's commission, nor vex her by omitting to ask to see
the studio; so there, in the course of the morning, he found himself,
alone at first among the statues and casts—grave and graceful
creations—more from the world of Christian than of classic poetry,
and if less æsthetically beautiful, more solemn and more real.
He had gone in meaning only to fulfil his duty to Cherry, but he
found himself attracted and enchained, and was standing before
Cherry's favourite figure of Mercy, drinking in, as it were, the
beseeching wistful spirit of faint hope that breathed from the whole
figure, when a crimson curtain was lifted, and a gentleman of about
five-and-forty or fifty, but grey-haired and looking older, came with a
soft tread towards him.
'Mr. Underwood, I believe.'
Felix bowed.
'I am very glad to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance.'
'I am very much obliged for my admission. I should not have
ventured, but that my sister was so anxious that I should see what
she enjoys so much.'
Mr. Grinstead smiled, and quietly did the honours, while Felix—
though, of course, untrained—modestly showed himself full enough
of taste and intelligence to be worthy of an artist sister; Mr.
Grinstead treating him all along like an honoured guest, and taking
him farther into his private rooms, to see some favourite old German
paintings, and to offer luncheon.
The house did indeed deserve Mrs. Underwood's term, fitted up with
all that carved wood and well-chosen simple colour could do; and
with wondrous gems of art—all the refinement and beauty that a
bachelor, when he does choose, can bring together even better than
a lady can.
'How long shall you be in town?' had been an early question,
answered by, 'I take my sister home to-morrow;' and then, when it
had struck Felix that his host was becoming increasingly thoughtful
and absent, and he was trying to take leave, but was always
prevented, Mr. Grinstead asked, 'Should I be likely to find your sister
at home if I called this afternoon?'
'Not early,' said Felix; 'I think she has some commissions to finish. I
am to meet her at five. I am afraid I must wish you good morning.'
'A few minutes longer. Mr. Underwood, I must begin by making you a
confession, and asking you a question. Do you think there is any
chance for me with that sweet little sister of yours?'
'With Geraldine!' Felix laid hold of the back of a chair, feeling as if his
senses almost reeled, though whether consternation or exultation
came uppermost, he could not have told.
'Yes,' was the reply. 'I am speaking abruptly, but I am taken by
surprise at finding that you intend so soon to take her away. Indeed,
I believe these are matters on which long consideration often ends
in a sudden plunge,' he added, smiling a little, as if he wondered a
little to find himself in a situation that seemed to reverse their ages;
indeed, Felix was by far the most embarrassed.
'I do not think she is at all prepared,' was all that occurred to him to
throw into the gulf of silence.
'Perhaps not,' said Mr. Grinstead, rather wistfully. 'I see you think the
notion a preposterous one,' he continued, with something
unconsciously of the elder's tone towards inexperienced youth,
though there was pleading in it too; and he put a chair in his visitor's
way, and speaking quietly though eagerly, as Felix tried to utter
some polite disclaimer: 'I see the disparity myself, though perhaps
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