University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

There were but two families holding relations
with Temple House; that of Cyrus Brande, the
owner of Brande's Forge, on Apsley River, a wild,
secluded spot, two miles, by the pastures, from Temple
House; and that of Mat Sutcliffe, wharfinger,
stevedore, and retired sailor, whose house in the
alley was against the door in the garden walk, and
the nearest to the pasture path leading to the Forge.
For the most part of his sea-faring life, Mat accompanied
Argus as his second mate. When Argus left
the sea, so did Mat; but their intercourse continued:
Argus valued Mat, and Mat was devoted to Argus.
The alley inhabitants called the Sutcliffe family disreputable.
Mat slept all day on Sunday, or prowled
the fields with his boys and dogs, and Mary, his
wife, instead of going to church with her neighbors,
staid at home to do her week's ironing. Mary's
habits were somewhat cat-like; it was easy for her
to purr and play, and as easy to scratch and snarl.
She wheedled, coaxed, and bullied Mat, for she was
afraid of him; and Mat was rough with her. He
sometimes drank hard; swore a good deal at inanimate
things; had periods of skulking in the chimney
corner, and about the docks and wharves, doing and

saying nothing. He pretended in his talkative
moods that all women were vicious, and all men dishonest;
but his conduct belied his opinions. He
watched over Tempe Gates as if he were her guardian
angel. If a man had breathed a word against
Argus, Mat would have knocked that man down
and beaten him. He never, however, made any profession
of attachment to either Argus or Tempe;
sentiment would not have looked well coming from
him. He was a short thick-set man, with small
deep-set eyes, and burnt-looking hair. He had in
his mouth generally a short pipe, and in his leisure
moments carried an end of rope in his hand. His
jacket was apt to be tarry, and he was fond of wearing
large canvas slippers which he made himself.
Occasionally he played the stern father, and thrashed
his boys for stealing brushwood and old iron; but
oftener winked at the depredations, as they were
articles without owners. He sometimes exerted his
marital authority over Mary, but generally ended his
attempts by telling her she wasn't half as bad as he
was. Tempe abused and patronized him, and considered
him part of the property of Temple House.
What was the gate made in the wall for, if he wasn't?
And Mat assured her it was true; and if ever the
house came to be sold, he should be sold with it.
The bustle and confusion of his hut, Mary's
gipsy-like ways in her housework, the careless,
gay spirits of the whole family, were highly
attractive to Tempe. Roxalana sometimes told her
she frequented Mat's too often, but was herself
too much a child of Nature to have a thought that
the society of the Sutcliffes was beneath her. Argus
was quite satisfied to have her in so safe a place
as under Mat's eye. The natural separation would
come soon enough.

The acquaintance with the Brandes began with the
former business relations between Argus and Cyrus,
and continued between Tempe and the only child of
the Brandes— Virginia. Excepting the two girls,
the families seldom met; their spheres were different,
as Mrs. Brande, commonly called Rhoda Cyrus, frequently
observed, when Virginia's fondness for Temple
House was commented on,—as different as pound
cake was to molasses gingerbread. The charm that
drew Virginia to Temple House, no one comprehended;
year by year it deepened, and became a part,
or rather the whole of an interior life, apart from her
home and parents. She constantly received a double
education, one contrasting widely with the other.
The sensible, unworldly sincerity of Roxalana; the
conduct of Argus, which absolutely denied the influence
of opinion, and yet was so calm, orderly, and
cheerful without it; his indifference to money; his
idleness through which he was led to note with
critical exactness those matters usually escaping the
attention of men; his moods, urbane, candid, jeering,
bitter; the wildness of Tempe; her freedom
from all control, her loneliness; all made up a different
world, and Rhoda Cyrus was so far correct.
The fashion of the poverty at Temple House was
more imposing to Virginia than the ever-working

effect of her father's wealth; its worry and fuss, and
glare persuaded all Kent, outside Temple House, but
within, its effect was lost.

Cyrus Brande lived between two masks, one faced
the world, and the other faced—himself. He appeared
austere, pious, and reserved behind the former;
before the latter he felt still pious, but genial,
sensual, and cowardly; rarely, if ever, were these
masks removed for him to appear a violent, passionate,
inconsistent man. He was a great financier, was
a powerful man in his church, and, with reason, bore
an irreproachable character.

He despised books, pictures, and sentiment, but
loved personal ornament, and above all things
beauty in women, though he never took off his private
mask to speculate on it. Rhoda Cyrus, his
proverbial echo abroad, was his pest at home, and
the burden of Virginia's life; she was indolent,
whining, uneasy, and endeavored by drugs and stimulants,
to deaden herself against the torments of her
position. Cyrus was patient with her, but excused
her from none of the religious and secular duties
which he had imposed upon himself, as a portion of
the life he thought necessary to lead. To avoid
these impositions she practised much cunning, and
hence Virginia's martyrdom.

Rhoda Cyrus hated prayers, parties, and to ride in
town with the best span. It was a nuisance to her,
the wearing of her gold watch and jewelry. It was
tedious for her to follow the observance of the attentions
and charities expected of her, from the position

of Cyrus, in regard to the church and the body of
his workmen. To the public the machinery which
regulated the affairs of the Brandes was perfect.
The Forge was quite a settlement: there were shops,
sheds, a row of workmen's houses, and the large
house where the family lived. Apsley River, bending
below the Forge, widened before the house, and
swept round again above it. On the other side,
opposite the house, the land rose gradually, and
limited the view: nothing was to be seen on this
side but a short, dull-colored grass, and an occasional
boulder. The landscape in other directions was no
pleasanter. The house was large, well built, with
every modern improvement, and furnished as the
houses of rich business men usually are. The best
of everything was in it, in the way of curtains, carpets,
and furniture. The landscape and the house
were a clue to Virginia's obvious history. Strictly
speaking her father had compelled her to take the
advantages of money. She had been educated at
schools of note, and had travelled. She had not
taken kindly to education, and was indifferent to
foreign scenery. At twenty her acquirements were
poor, so far as music, drawing, and the languages
went; but nature had given her a gracious soul, and
experience was enriching, and deepening her whole
traits. Her faults were not numerous, but sufficiently
strong, marring many of her acts, and often
destroying her resolves; Tempe, younger by several
years, selfishly clung to her, and, like the rest of her
friends, trampled upon her yielding individuality.
To most people Virginia was as lovely as a star, and
as distant. Thanks to the will of her father again,
she claimed a degree of attention from those who
could go no further, from the style of her dress,
which varied so that her beauty could never be
decided upon by them. She was a brunette, because
her hair was black and red became her complexion;
a blonde, because she was pale and had the deepest
blue eyes, which contrasted well with yellow. Her
forehead was low, her nose straight, consequently
her face was Grecian, and the true way of wearing
her hair was the Greek fashion, which she sometimes
adopted. Her cheeks were full, her chin and jaw
wide and firm; therefore, when her hair was worn
in smooth bands, a likeness to her grandfather, who
was accused of being an Irishman, was plainly to be
seen. As she was uniformly reserved, her popularity
in the first circles of Kent could only be accounted
for by the original and constant change of
her wardrobe.