Kenelm Chillingly — Volume 03 eBook

It was a large handsome town,—­handsomer than Tor-Hadham, on account of its site in a valley surrounded by wooded hills, and watered by the fair stream whose windings we have seen as a brook,—­handsomer, also, because it boasted a fair cathedral, well cleared to the sight, and surrounded by venerable old houses, the residences of the clergy or of the quiet lay gentry with mediaeval tastes.  The main street was thronged with passengers,—­some soberly returning home from the evening service; some, the younger, lingering in pleasant promenade with their sweethearts or families, or arm in arm with each other, and having the air of bachelors or maidens unattached.  Through this street Kenelm passed with inattentive eye.  A turn to the right took him towards the cathedral and its surroundings.  There all was solitary.  The solitude pleased him, and he lingered long, gazing on the noble church lifting its spires and turrets into the deep blue starry air.

Musingly, then, he strayed on, entering a labyrinth of gloomy lanes, in which, though the shops were closed, many a door stood open, with men of the working class lolling against the threshold, idly smoking their pipes, or women seated on the doorsteps gossiping, while noisy children were playing or quarrelling in the kennel.  The whole did not present the indolent side of an English Sabbath in the pleasantest and rosiest point of view.  Somewhat quickening his steps, he entered a broader street, attracted to it involuntarily by a bright light in the centre.  On nearing the light he found that it shone forth from a gin-palace, of which the mahogany doors opened and shut momently as customers went in and out.  It was the handsomest building he had seen in his walk, next to that of the cathedral.  “The new civilization versus the old,” murmured Kenelm.  As he so murmured, a hand was laid on his arm with a sort of timid impudence.  He looked down and saw a young face, but it had survived the look of youth; it was worn and hard, and the bloom on it was not that of Nature’s giving.  “Are you kind to-night?” asked a husky voice.

“Kind!” said Kenelm, with mournful tones and softened eyes, “kind!  Alas, my poor sister mortal! if pity be kindness, who can see you and not be kind?”

The girl released his arm, and he walked on.  She stood some moments gazing after him till out of sight, then she drew her hand suddenly across her eyes, and retracing her steps, was, in her turn, caught hold of by a rougher hand than hers, as she passed the gin-palace.  She shook off the grasp with a passionate scorn, and went straight home.  Home! is that the right word?  Poor sister mortal!

CHAPTER XI.

AND now Kenelm found himself at the extremity of the town, and on the banks of the river.  Small squalid houses still lined the bank for some way, till, nearing the bridge, they abruptly ceased, and he passed through a broad square again into the main street.  On the other side of the street there was a row of villa-like mansions, with gardens stretching towards the river.