Will never scape。
CYRIL TOURNEUR。The Revenger's Tragedy。
Letters arrived at Arnstead generally while the family was seated at
breakfast。 One morning； the post…bag having been brought in； Mr。
Arnold opened it himself； according to his unvarying custom； and
found； amongst other letters； one in an old…fashioned female hand；
which； after reading it； he passed to Euphra。
〃You remember Mrs。 Elton； Euphra？〃
〃Quite well； unclea dear old lady！〃
But the expression which passed across her face； rather belied her
words； and seemed to Hugh to mean： 〃I hope she is not going to bore
us again。〃
She took care； however； to show no sign with regard to the contents
of the letter； but； laying it beside her on the table； waited to
hear her uncle's mind first。
〃Poor； dear girl！〃 said he at last。 〃You must try to make her as
comfortable as you can。 There is consumption in the family； you
see；〃 he added； with a meditative sigh。
〃Of course I will； uncle。 Poor girl！ I hope there is not much
amiss though； after all。〃
But； as she spoke； an irrepressible flash of dislike； or displeasure
of some sort； broke from her eyes； and vanished。 No one but himself
seemed to Hugh to have observed it； but he was learned in the lady's
eyes； and their weather…signs。 Mr。 Arnold rose from the table and
left the room； apparently to write an answer to the letter。 As soon
as he was gone； Euphra gave the letter to Hugh。 He read as
follows：
〃MY DEAR MR。 ARNOLD；
〃Will you extend the hospitality of your beautiful house to me and
my young friend； who has the honour of being your relative； Lady
Emily Lake？ For some time her health has seemed to be failing； and
she is ordered to spend the winter abroad； at Pau； or somewhere in
the south of France。 It is considered highly desirable that in the
meantime she should have as much change as possible； and it occurred
to me； remembering the charming month I passed at your seat； and
recalling the fact that Lady Emily is cousin only once removed to
your late most lovely wife； that there would be no impropriety in
writing to ask you whether you could； without inconvenience； receive
us as your guests for a short time。 I say us； for the dear girl has
taken such a fancy to unworthy old me； that she almost refuses to
set out without me。 Not to be cumbersome either to our friends or
ourselves； we shall bring only our two maids； and a steady old
man…servant； who has been in my family for many years。I trust you
will not hesitate to refuse my request； should I happen to have made
it at an unsuitable season； assured； as you must be； that we cannot
attribute the refusal to any lack of hospitality or friendliness on
your part。 At all events； I trust you will excuse what seemsnow I
have committed it to papera great liberty； I hope not presumption；
on mine。 I am； my dear Mr。 Arnold；
〃Yours most sincerely；
〃HANNAH ELTON。〃
Hugh refolded the letter； and laid it down without remark。 Harry
had left the room。
〃Isn't it a bore？〃 said Euphra。
Hugh answered only by a look。 A pause followed。
〃Who is Mrs。 Elton？〃 he said at last。
〃Oh； a good…hearted creature enough。 Frightfully prosy。〃
〃But that is a well…written letter？〃
〃Oh； yes。 She is famed for her letter…writing； and； I believe；
practises every morning on a slate。 It is the only thing that
redeems her from absolute stupidity。〃
Euphra； with her taper fore…finger； tapped the table…cloth
impatiently； and shifted back in her chair； as if struggling with an
inward annoyance。
〃And what sort of person is Lady Emily？〃 asked Hugh。
〃I have never seen her。 Some blue…eyed milk…maid with a title； I
suppose。 And in a consumption； too！ I presume the dear girl is as
religious as the old one。Good heavens！ what shall we do？〃 she
burst out at length； and； rising from her chair； she paced about the
room hurriedly； but all the time with a gliding kind of footfall；
that would have shaken none but the craziest floor。
〃Dear Euphra！〃 Hugh ventured to say； 〃never mind。 Let us try to
make the best of it。〃
She stopped in her walk； turned towards him； smiled as if ashamed
and delighted at the same moment； and slid out of the room。 Had
Euphra been the same all through； she could hardly have smiled so
without being in love with Hugh。
That morning he sought her again in her room。 They talked over
their versions of Dante。 Hugh's was certainly the best； for he was
more practised in such things than Euphra。 He showed her many
faults； which she at once perceived to be faults； and so rose in his
estimation。 But at the same time there were individual lines and
passages of hers； which he considered not merely better than the
corresponding lines and passages； but better than any part of his
version。 This he was delighted to say； and she seemed as delighted
that he should think so。 A great part of the morning was spent
thus。
〃I cannot stay longer；〃 said Hugh。
〃Let us read for an hour； then； after we come up stairs to…night。〃
〃With more pleasure than I dare to say。〃
〃But you mean what you do say？〃
〃You can doubt it no more than myself。〃
Yet he did not like Euphra's making the proposal。 No more did he
like the flippant； almost cruel way in which she referred to Lady
Emily's illness。 But he put it down to annoyance and hastegot
over it somehowanyhow； and began to feel that if she were a devil
he could not help loving her； and would not help it if he could。
The hope of meeting her alone that night； gave him spirit and
energy with Harry； and the poor boy was more cheery and active than
he had been for some time。 He thought his big brother was going to
love him again as at the first。 Hugh's treatment of his pupil might
still have seemed kind from another； but Harry felt it a great
change in him。
In the course of the day； Euphra took an opportunity of whispering
to him：
〃Not in my roomin the library。〃 I presume she thought it would be
more prudent； in the case of any interruption。
After dinner that evening； Hugh did not go to the drawingroom with
Mr。 Arnold； but out into the woods about the house。 It was early in
the twilight； for now the sun set late。 The month was June； and the
even a rich； dreamful； rosy eventhe sleep of a gorgeous day。 〃It
is like the soul of a gracious woman；〃 thought Hugh； charmed into a
lucid interval of passion by the loveliness of the nature around
him。 Strange to tell； at that moment； instead of the hushed gloom
of the library； towards which he was hoping and leaning in his soul；
there arose before him the bare； stern； leafless pine…woodfor who
can call its foliage leaves？with the chilly wind of a northern
spring morning blowing through it with a wailing noise of waters；
and beneath a weird fir…tree； lofty； gaunt； and huge； with bare
goblin arms； contorted sweepily； in a strange mingling of the
sublime and the grotesquebeneath this fir…tree； Margaret sitting
on one of its twisted roots； the very image of peace； with a face
that seemed stilled by the expected approach of a sacred and unknown
gladness； a face that would blossom the more gloriously because its
joy delayed its coming。 And above it； the tree shone a 〃still；〃
almost 〃awful red；〃 in the level light of the morning。
The vision came and passed； for he did not invite its stay： it
rebuked him to the deepest soul。 He strayed in troubled pleasure；
restless and dissatisfied。 Woods of the richest growth were around
him； heaps on heaps of leaves floating above him like clouds； a
trackless wilderness of airy green； wherein one might wish to dwell
for ever； looking down into the vaults and aisles of the
long…ranging boles beneath。 But no peace could rest on his face；
only； at best； a false mask； put on to hide the trouble of the
unresting heart。 Had he been doing his duty to Harry； his love for
Euphra； however unworthy she might be； would not have troubled him
thus。
He came upon an avenue。 At the further end the boughs of the old
trees； bare of leaves beneath； met in a perfect pointed arch； across
which were barred the lingering colours of the sunset； transforming
the whole into a rich window full of stained glass and complex
tracery； closing up a Gothic aisle in a temple of everlasting
worship。 A kind of holy calm fell upon him as he regarded the dim；
dying colours； and the spirit of the night； a something that is
neither silence nor sound； and yet is like both； sank into his soul；
and made a moment of summer twilight there。 He walked along the
avenue for some distance； and then； leaving it； passed on through
the woods。Suddenly it flashed upon him that he had crossed the
Ghost's Walk。 A slight but cold shudder passed through the region of
his heart。 Then he laughed at himself； and； as it were in despite
of his own tremor； turned； and crossed yet again the path of the
ghost。
A spiritual epicure in his pleasures； he would not spoil the effect
of the coming meeting； by seeing Euphra in the drawingroom first： he
went to his own study； where he remained till the hour had nearly
arrived。 He tried to write some verses。 But he found that；
although the lovely form of its own Naiad lay on the brink of the
Well of Song； its waters would not flow： during the sirocco of
passion； its springs withdraw into the cool caves of the Life
beneath。 At length he rose； too much preoccupied to mind his want
of success； and； going down the back stair； reached the library。
There he seated himself； and tried to read by the light of his
chamber…candle。 But it was scarcely even an attempt； for every
moment he was looking up to the door by which he expected her to
enter。
Suddenly an increase of light warned him that she was in the room。
How she had entered he could not tell。 One hand carried her
candle； the light of which fell on her pale face； with its halo of
blacknessher hair； which looked like a well of darkness； that
threatened to break from its bonds and overflood the room with a
second night； dark enough to blot out that which was now looking in；
treeful and deep； at the uncurtained windows。 The other hand was
busy trying to incarcerate a stray tress which had escaped from its
net； and made her olive shoulders look white b