Ombra

Маргарет Уилсон Олифант

Margaret Oliphant

Ombra

Simon. … �Your tale, my friend,

Is made from nothing, and of nothings spun—

Foam on the ocean, hoar-frost on the grass,

The gossamer threads that sparkle in the sun

Patterned with morning dew—things that are born

And die, are come and gone, blossom and fade

Ere day mature has drawn one sober breath.’

Philip. ’Tis so; and so is life; and so is youth;

Foam, frost, and dew; what would you? Maidens call

That filmy gossamer the Virgin’s threads,

And virgins’ lives are woven of threads like those.’

В В В В The Two Poor Maidens.

CHAPTER I

Katherine Courtenay was an only child, and a great heiress; and both her parents had died before she was able to form any clear idea of them. She was brought up in total ignorance of the natural life of childhood—that world hemmed in by the dear faces of father and mother, brother and sister, which forms to most girls the introductory chapter into life. She never knew it. She lived in Langton-Courtenay—with her nurse first, and then with her governess, the centre of a throng of servants, in the immense desolate house. Even in these relationships the lonely child did not find the motherhood which lonely children so often find in the care of some pitying, tender-hearted stranger. Her guardian, who was her father’s uncle, an old man of the world, was one of those who distrust old servants, and accept from their inferiors nothing more than can be paid for. He had made up his mind from the beginning that little Kate should not be eaten up by locusts, as he said—that she should have no kind of retainers about her, flattering her vanity with unnecessary affection and ostentatious zeal; but only honest servants (as honest, he would add, as they ever are), who expected nothing but the day’s wages for the day’s work. To procure this, he allowed no one to remain long with his ward. Her nurse was changed half a dozen times during the period in which she required such a guardian; and her governess had shared the same fate. She had never been allowed to attach herself to one more than another. When any signs of feeling made themselves apparent, Mr. Courtenay sent forth his remorseless decree. �Kate shall never be any woman’s slave, nor any old servant’s victim, if I can help it,’ he said. He would have liked, had that been practicable, to turn her into a public school, and let her �find her level,’ as boys do; but as that was not practicable, he made sure, at least, that no sentimental influences should impair his nursling’s independence and vigour. Thus the alleviations which natural sympathy and pity might have given her, were lost to Kate. Her attendants were afraid to love her; her often-changed instructresses had to shut their hearts against the appeal of compassion, as well as the appeal made by the girl’s natural attractiveness. She had to be to them as princesses are but rarely to their teachers and companions—a half-mistress, half-pupil. An act of utter self-renunciation was required of them before ever they set foot in Langton-Courtenay. Mr. Courtenay himself made the engagement, and prescribed its terms. He paid very liberally; and he veiled his insolence under the garb of perfect politeness. �I do not wish Miss Courtenay to make any friends out of her own class,’ he would say. �I shall do my utmost to make the temporary connection between my niece and you advantageous to yourself, Miss –. But I must exact, on the other side, that there shall be no sentimental bonds formed, no everlasting friendships, no false relationship. I have seen the harm of such things, and suffered from it. Therefore, if these should be your ideas–’

�You wanted a governess, I heard, and I applied for the situation—I never thought of anything more,’ said quickly, with some offence, the irritated applicant.

�Precisely,’ said Mr. Courtenay. �With this understanding everything may be decided at once. I am happy to have met with a lady who unders