Chapter III--Harold

by Bram Stoker

　　Squire Norman had a clerical friend whose rectory of Carstone laysome thirty miles from Normanstand. Thirty miles is not a greatdistance for railway travel; but it is a long drive. The days hadnot come, nor were they ever likely to come, for the making of arailway between the two places. For a good many years the two menhad met in renewal of their old University days. Squire Norman andDr. An Wolf had been chums at Trinity, Cambridge, and the boyishfriendship had ripened and lasted. When Harold An Wolf had put inhis novitiate in a teeming Midland manufacturing town, it wasNorman's influence which obtained the rectorship for his friend. Itwas not often that they could meet, for An Wolf's work, which, thoughnot very exacting, had to be done single-handed, kept him to hispost. Besides, he was a good scholar and eked out a small income bypreparing a few pupils for public school. An occasional mid-weekvisit to Normanstand in the slack time of school work on the Doctor'spart, and now and again a drive by Norman over to the rectory,returning the next day, had been for a good many years the measure oftheir meeting. Then An Wolf's marriage and the birth of a son hadkept him closer to home. Mrs. An Wolf had been killed in a railwayaccident a couple of years after her only child had been born; and atthe time Norman had gone over to render any assistance in his powerto the afflicted man, and to give him what was under thecircumstances his best gift, sympathy. After an interval of a fewyears the Squire's courtship and marriage, at which his old friendhad assisted, had confined his activities to a narrower circle. Thelast time they had met was when An Wolf had come over to Norcester toaid in the burial of his friend's wife. In the process of years,however, the shadow over Norman's life had begun to soften; when hisbaby had grown to be something of a companion, they met again.Norman, 'who had never since his wife's death been able to tearhimself, even for a night, away from Normanstand and Stephen, wroteto his old friend asking him to come to him. An Wolf gladlypromised, and for a week of growing expectation the Squire lookedforward to their meeting. Each found the other somewhat changed, inall but their old affection.An Wolf was delighted with the little Stephen. Her dainty beautyseemed to charm him; and the child, seeming to realise what pleasureshe was giving, exercised all her little winning ways. The rector,who knew more of children than did his, friend, told her as she saton his knee of a very interesting person: his own son. The childlistened, interested at first, then enraptured. She asked all kindsof questions; and the father's eyes brightened as he gladly answeredthe pretty sympathetic child, already deep in his heart for herfather's sake. He told her about the boy who was so big and strong,and who could run and leap and swim and play cricket and footballbetter than any other boy with whom he played. When, warmed himselfby the keen interest of the little girl, and seeing her beautifulblack eyes beginning to glow, he too woke to the glory of the time;and all the treasured moments of the father's lonely heart gave outtheir store. And the other father, thrilled with delight because ofhis baby's joy with, underlying all, an added pleasure that thelittle Stephen's interest was in sports that were for boys, looked onapprovingly, now and again asking questions himself in furtherance ofthe child's wishes.All the afternoon they sat in the garden, close to the stream thatcame out of the rock, and An Wolf told father's tales of his onlyson. Of the great cricket match with Castra Puerorum when he hadmade a hundred not out. Of the school races when he had won so manyprizes. Of the swimming match in the Islam River when, after he hadwon the race and had dressed himself, he went into the water in hisclothes to help some children who had upset a boat. How when WidowNorton's only son could not be found, he dived into the deep hole ofthe intake of the milldam of the great Carstone mills where Wingatethe farrier had been drowned. And how, after diving twice withoutsuccess, he had insisted on going down the third time though peoplehad tried to hold him back; and how he had brought up in his arms thechild all white and so near death that they had to put him in theashes of the baker's oven before he could be brought back to life.When her nurse came to take her to bed, she slid down from herfather's knee and coming over to Dr. An Wolf, gravely held out herhand and said: 'Good-bye!' Then she kissed him and said:'Thank you so much, Mr. Harold's daddy. Won't you come soon again,and tell us more?' Then she jumped again upon her father's knee andhugged him round the neck and kissed him, and whispered in his ear:'Daddy, please make Mr. Harold's daddy when he comes again, bringHarold with him!'After all it is natural for women to put the essence of the letter inthe postscript!Two weeks afterwards Dr. An Wolf came again and brought Harold withhim. The time had gone heavily with little Stephen when she knewthat Harold was coming with his father. Stephen had been all afireto see the big boy whose feats had so much interested her, and for awhole week had flooded Mrs. Jarrold with questions which she wasunable to answer. At last the time came and she went out to the halldoor with her father to welcome the guests. At the top of the greatgranite steps, down which in time of bad weather the white awningran, she stood holding her father's hand and waving a welcome.'Good morning, Harold! Good morning, Mr. Harold's daddy!'The meeting was a great pleasure to both the children, and resultedin an immediate friendship. The small girl at once conceived a greatadmiration for the big, strong boy nearly twice her age and more thantwice her size. At her time of life the convenances are not, andlove is a thing to be spoken out at once and in the open. Mrs.Jarrold, from the moment she set eyes on him, liked the big kindly-faced boy who treated her like a lady, and who stood awkwardlyblushing and silent in the middle of the nursery listening to thetiny child's proffers of affection. For whatever kind of love it isthat boys are capable of, Harold had fallen into it. 'Calf-love' isa thing habitually treated with contempt. It may be ridiculous; butall the same it is a serious reality--to the calf.Harold's new-found affection was as deep as his nature. An onlychild who had in his memory nothing of a mother's love, his naturallyaffectionate nature had in his childish days found no means ofexpression. A man child can hardly pour out his full heart to a man,even a father or a comrade; and this child had not, in a way, theconsolations of other children. His father's secondary occupation ofteaching brought other boys to the house and necessitated a domesticroutine which had to be exact. There was no place for little girlsin a boys' school; and though many of Dr. An Wolf's friends who weremothers made much of the pretty, quiet boy, and took him to play withtheir children, he never seemed to get really intimate with them.The equality of companionship was wanting. Boys he knew, and withthem he could hold his own and yet be on affectionate terms. Butgirls were strange to him, and in their presence he was shy. Withthis lack of understanding of the other sex, grew up a sort of awe ofit. His opportunities of this kind of study were so few that theview never could become rectified.And so it was that from his boyhood up to his twelfth year, Harold'sknowledge of girlhood never increased nor did his awe diminish. Whenhis father had told him all about his visit to Normanstand and of theinvitation which had been extended to him there came first awe, thendoubt, then expectation. Between Harold and his father there waslove and trust and sympathy. The father's married love so soon cutshort found expression towards his child; and between them there hadnever been even the shadow of a cloud. When his father told him howpretty the little Stephen was, how dainty, how sweet, he began topicture her in his mind's eye and to be bashfully excited overmeeting her.His first glimpse of Stephen was, he felt, one that he never couldforget. She had made up her mind that she would let Harold see whatshe could do. Harold could fly kites and swim and play cricket; shecould not do any of these, but she could ride. Harold should see herpony, and see her riding him all by herself. And there would beanother pony for Harold, a big, big, big one--she had spoken aboutits size herself to Topham, the stud-groom. She had coaxed her daddyinto promising that after lunch she should take Harold riding. Tothis end she had made ready early. She had insisted on putting onthe red riding habit which Daddy had given her for her birthday, andnow she stood on the top of the steps all glorious in hunting pink,with the habit held over her arms, with the tiny hunting-hoots allshiny underneath. She had no hat on, and her beautiful hair ofgolden red shone in its glory. But even it was almost outshone bythe joyous flush on her cheeks as she stood waving the little handthat did not hold Daddy's. She was certainly a picture to dream of!Her father's eyes lost nothing of her dainty beauty. He was so proudof her that he almost forgot to wish that she had been a boy. Thepleasure he felt in her appearance was increased by the fact that herdress was his own idea.During luncheon Stephen was fairly silent; she usually chattered allthrough as freely as a bird sings. Stephen was silent because theoccasion was important. Besides, Daddy wasn't all alone, andtherefore had not to be cheered up. Also--this in postscript form--Harold was silent! In her present frame of mind Harold could do nowrong, and what Harold did was right. She was unconsciously learningalready a lesson from his presence.That evening when going to bed she came to say good-night to Daddy.After she had kissed him she also kissed 'old Mr. Harold,' as she nowcalled him, and as a matter of course kissed Harold also. Hecoloured up at once. It was the first time a girl had ever kissedhim.The next day from early morning until bed-time was one long joy toStephen, and there were few things of interest that Harold had notbeen shown; there were few of the little secrets which had not beenshared with him as they went about hand in hand. Like all manly boysHarold was good to little children and patient with them. He wascontent to follow Stephen about and obey all her behests. He hadfallen in love with her to the very bottom of his boyish heart.When the guests were going, Stephen stood with her father on thesteps to see them off. When the carriage had swept behind thefarthest point in the long avenue, and when Harold's cap waving fromthe window could no longer be seen, Squire Norman turned to go in,but paused in obedience to the unconscious restraint of Stephen'shand. He waited patiently till with a long sigh she turned to himand they went in together.That night before she went to bed Stephen came and sat on herfather's knee, and after sundry pattings and kissings whispered inhis ear:'Daddy, wouldn't it be nice if Harold could come here altogether?Couldn't you ask him to? And old Mr. Harold could come too. Oh, Iwish he was here!'