A Whim, and Its Consequences / Collection of British Authors Vol. CXIV

by G. P. R. James

A new spirit seemed to come into the whole house with the new gardener. Everybody, but one, although it was certainly an unpropitious season of the year, seemed to be seized with the mania of gardening. Old General Tracy himself, after having been confined for four or five days to his room, by the consequences of his intimacy with farmer Thorp's bull, which he had at first neglected, but was afterwards compelled to remember, might be seen with a spade in his hand delving with the rest. Mr. Tracy and Emily were constantly here and there in the grounds, conversing with the head-gardener, and laying out plans for immediate or future execution; and the only one who, like the warm beams of summer, seemed to abandon the garden as winter approached, was Mr. Tracy's youngest daughter Rose, whose visits were confined to the morning and the evening, when a task, to which she had accustomed herself from her childhood, and which she had no excuse for neglecting now, called her down to the end of what was called "the ladies' walk." This task was, indeed, a somewhat childish one; namely, to feed a number of beautiful gold and silver fishes collected in a large marble basin, and sheltered from snow and frost by a not very bad imitation of a Greek temple.

There is a very mistaken notion current, that fish are not overburdened with plain common sense. We have too few opportunities of observing them to judge; but Rose's gold and silver fish certainly displayed considerable discrimination. One would have thought that they knew the sound of her beautiful little feet; only fish have got no ears. However, as her step approached, they were sure to swim in multitudes towards her, jostling their scaly sides against each other, and evidently looking up with interest and pleasure. They did not do the same to any one else. They came indeed, but came more slowly, if Emily approached; and hovered at a timid distance from the side if anything in a male garb was seen.

Two or three times, whilst standing by the side of the basin, Rose saw the head-gardener pass by; but he took no further notice of her, than merely by raising his hat, with a bow, which might have suited a drawing-room as well as a garden.

Rose had become very thoughtful--not at all times--for when she was with the rest of the family, she was as gay as ever; but when she was in her own room with a book in her hand, the book would often rest upon her knee unread; and her eyes would gaze out of the window upon the far prospect, while the mind was very busy with things within itself. There was something that puzzled Rose Tracy sadly. What could she be thinking of? Strange to say, Rose was thinking of the head-gardener; yet she never mentioned his name, even when all the rest were praising him, marvelling at his taste, at his information, at his manners for a man in that rank of life. She never went near the places where he was most likely to be found; and a fortnight passed ere she exchanged a single word with him.

At length, one morning, a short conversation, of which it may be necessary to transcribe only a few sentences, took place at breakfast between her father and her uncle; which worked a great change in Rose Tracy.

"It certainly is the most extraordinary will that ever was made," said Mr. Tracy; "and so unjust, that I cannot think it will be maintained in law. He leaves his whole property to his eldest son, towards whom he showed nothing but coldness and dislike for many years, and leaves the second actually nothing but a mere recommendation to his brother's favour. Now, the whole Elmsly property, to the amount of at least seventeen thousand a-year, came to him in right of Lady Jane; and it is generally the custom for the mother's property to descend to the younger children."

"At all events, they should have a fair share of it," answered old Walter Tracy. "For my part, I would do away with the law of primogeniture altogether. It is a barbarous and unnatural law. But perhaps Sir Harry, in his eccentric way, left verbal directions with his eldest son."

"Not at all, not at all," answered Mr. Tracy. "I understand from Lawrence Graves, who is their near relation, that Sir William declares he has no instructions whatever but those contained in the will. And, as Mr. Winslow and his brother have not been upon good terms for some years, the young gentleman refuses absolutely to receive any thing from him whatever."

"Then, in Heaven's name! what will become of him," exclaimed Emily, "if he is left penniless?"

"He might have done well enough in many professions," said the General, "if this had occurred earlier. But he is three or four and twenty now; too old for the army; and both the church and the bar are sad slow professions; requiring a fortune to be spent before a pittance can be gained."