CHAPTER XV
MR JAMES GILLAN MEETS HIS UNCLE
THE white sun was sinking lower in the west, above the valley at the foot of Lindum hill, when Mr Lee rose from his chair in his private apartment to welcome the nephew who was shown into his room. It was the first time, in the course of their mutual lives, that the nephew had set foot in his uncle’s house.
An abode of wealth! and yet there were few signs of riches in the scantily furnished, bare, and matted room, beneath whose windows, in grey, shining haze, lay the extensive prospect of the valley beneath the town. A hard room, full of unornamental book-cases, with one small table, severely erect and square, and on that a heavy desk, a solid inkstand, some piles of papers, a pen-wiper, and a purse. The eyes of the nephew wandered to these things before he accepted the hand held out to him; and it was not until he was seated, and his mind was more composed, that he ventured to raise his glance to his uncle’s face. It was not often that he was agitated, but then this interview meant so much to him!
Mr Lee, on his part, had found no difficulty in surveying his visitor with a steady gaze; though even for him there was a little agitation, displayed in the colour that mounted in his face. Perhaps the sight of his sister’s son affected him, the sister towards whom he had been unforgiving, and who was dead; or perhaps he almost repented the relenting that had induced him to send to his nephew and demand an interview. His original refusal to see his young relations for a while had been so firm, had been so uncompromising! and yet for once he had actually changed his mind, not only before winter, but even before autumn came. Some feeling of curiosity may have prompted him, or some remonstrance of the Squire who was his friend, or the fact that during the last month he had been ill, and that he was a lonely man, and that his wealth had no heir. Whatever the cause, his change of action was now a fact, for here before him was the young man, his sister’s son.
At such moments the first glance counts for a good deal; indeed, the impression it leaves is of almost unfair importance, for it is often difficult afterwards for our sober, solid, reason to counteract its influence. Mr Lee saw before him a young man, tall and slender, with a delicate face into which a nervous colour stole; with drooping eyelids, and thin, fine, hair, a delicate complexion, and nervous, parted lips. A graceful figure, a face not without charm, an attire refined and carefully arranged; the most hostile adversaries, speaking honestly, could not have been bold enough to deny these advantages. They might have denied that the gentle-featured face gave the smallest indication of steadfast principles, but then we are not accustomed to look for unwavering resolution in the countenance of a young man of three-and-twenty years. And it is certain that in the course of a wandering life Mr James Gillan had gained an appearance of good-breeding; the son of a wandering actor, he had yet acquired refinement, and had the look and the words of a gentleman. This appearance, moreover, was intensified by the attractiveness of a gentle, pleasing face; and a quiet manner, which was a positive relief to the uncle who had seen his sister’s books and songs. And yet the old man, a keen and shrewd observer, was not altogether satisfied, in spite of his relief.
A contrast himself!—Mr Lee was not refined or pleasing, but his grey eyes were clear and bright beneath his brows, and every line of his harsh, rugged face was graved with a decision that almost rose to power. A passionate face, but with passion well-subdued, a face untender, proud, and illiterate, not softened by love, not refined by education, not enlarged by wide views, and general sympathy. The son of a grocer, a dealer in provisions, then a general merchant of large and wide success, he had pursued an honoured and industrious career, and had retired from business a respected, wealthy man. The unfortunate circumstances attending his early marriage had debarred him from the most softening influences of life; though, with the want of refinement that characterised his words, he had made into his favourite joke that long-past tale. That was the man! he could keep a promise honourably, indeed with a scrupulous honour that rose to chivalry; but no delicate tact, such as sensitive natures own, would hinder him from boasting of a promise he had kept. Not parsimonious, but not at all luxurious, he had not the least love for society and its ways, and his establishment at the top of Lindum Hill was conducted with the utmost simplicity, though not penuriously. In the house with him were only his favourite attendant—a dark-faced, under-sized, active boy—an old woman who was his housekeeper and cook, and her husband, who had been his coachman many years. The cathedral bells chimed at a little distance from the house; beneath it lay the valley in endless lights and shades; and Mr Lee, though but little impressed by sight or sound, made himself comfortable, and was content. Only sometimes the remembrance of his conduct to his sister affected him with a slight sensation of remorse; and he had been lately ill, and still was feeble, and he was solitary, and his riches had no heir. These various reasons, acting on each other, had produced the change in his purpose which we have seen—he had written to his nephew to ask for an interview, and now was receiving him at his own request. No such very great change after all, but Mr Lee was always accustomed to cling to all purposes with tenacity.
If in the mind of the young man close to him, who sat with his eyelids down-cast, waiting humbly for him to speak, there was being waged a conflict, more uncertain, more terrible, the uncle at any rate saw no signs of it. For the contest between our love and our ambition lies low in our heart, out of reach of human eyes; and the supreme moments in which the fight is hottest pass on without observation from the world. James Gillan gave only one sudden, stifled gasp, as if he had found that there was no air in the room; and then, with his head inclined and his fingers loosely clasped, sat waiting to hear what his companion had to say. For—‘So you have come here, sir,’ said Mr Lee, ‘that’s as it should be, since I have to speak with ye.’