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Updated: June 14, 2025
The old garden, so stiff and sad through all the rest of the year, was in its moment of glory. Helbeck opened one of the lattices of the oriel, and stood there gazing. Six months before there had been a passionate oneness between him and his inheritance, between his nature and the spirit of his race.
One was a Rembrandt 'The Casting-out of Hagar' I have his copy of it in my room now the other was a Tintoret sketch. He worked at them for days and weeks, pondering and copying them, bit by bit, till he was almost ill with excitement and enthusiasm. But you see the result in what he does." And Helbeck smiled upon the artist with the affectionate sympathy of an elder brother.
Mason! he ses, 'this is an old man speak to those fellows! But feyther wouldn't. 'Let 'em trounce tha! he ses 'aye, an him too! It'ull do tha noa harm. Well, an what did he say, Mr. Helbeck? I'd like to know." "Say? Nothing except that it was a long way, and I might have the pony carriage." Laura's tone was rather dry.
Helbeck was still silent. But it was a silence that pierced. Suddenly she flushed deeply. The spell that held her that strange transparency of soul broke up. "Naturally I was afraid lest Augustina should be anxious," she said hastily, "and lest it should be bad for her." Helbeck knelt down beside her. She sank back in her chair, staring at him.
Helbeck, arrested in his walk to and fro, and the picture of astonishment. Laura drew back in real discomfiture. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Helbeck! I had no notion that anyone was still here." "Is there anything I can do for you?" he said advancing. "Augustina told me there was a letter for me this evening." "Of course. It is here on the mantelpiece. I ought to have remembered it."
Augustina, however, was thirty-five, in full possession of her little moneys, and had no one to consult but herself. Fountain enjoyed the writing of the letter, which was brief, if not curt. Alan Helbeck appeared without an hour's delay at Potter's Beach. Fountain felt himself much inclined beforehand to treat the tall dark youth, sixteen years his junior, as a tutor treats an undergraduate.
He had no love for modern innovations, or modern devotions; there was a hidden Gallican strain in him; and he firmly believed that in the old days before Catholic emancipation, and before the Oxford movement, the Church made more converts than she did now. Towards the end of the lunch Laura inquired of Mr. Helbeck whether any conveyance was to be got in the village.
And in the following year, to complete the story, I owed to Helbeck a striking and unexpected hour. A message reached me in November, 1898, to the effect that the Empress Frederick, who had just arrived at Windsor, admired the book and would like to see the writer of it. A tragic figure at that moment the Empress Frederick!
Helbeck meanwhile caught sight for an instant of a girl's pale face at the window of the approaching carriage a face thrust forward eagerly, to gaze at the pele tower. The horses stopped, and out sprang the girl. "Wait a moment let me help you, Augustina. How do you do, Mr. Helbeck? Don't touch my dog, please he doesn't like men. Fricka, be quiet!"
Helbeck soon perceived that she was jarred. When she called to Bruno he checked his flow of anecdote, and said to her in a lower voice: "You think us uncharitable?" She looked up but rather at the Jesuit than at Helbeck. "No only it is not amusing! If Augustina or I could speak for the other side that would be more fun!" "Laura!" cried Augustina, scandalised.
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