Hello.
Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
A romantic bedtime podcast guaranteed to help you drift off into a calm,
Relaxing sleep.
Come with me as we travel back to a time long ago where Helen Huntingdon is sacrificing everything she knows in order to protect her son.
But before we begin let us take a moment to focus on where we are now.
Take a deep breath in through your nose then let it out on a long sigh.
It is time to relax and really let go.
Feel your shoulders melt away from your ears as you sink into the support beneath you.
Feel the pressure seep away from your cheeks as your breath drops into a natural rhythm.
There is nothing you need to be doing right now and nowhere you need to go.
We are together and it is time for sleep.
The Tenant of Wildfelm Hall by Read and abridged by Stephanie Poppins Chapter 31 March 20th 1824 The dreaded time has come and Arthur is gone as I expected.
This time he announced it his intention to make but a short stay in London and pass over to the continent where he should probably stay a few weeks.
But I shall not expect him till after the lapse of many weeks.
I know that now.
With him days signify weeks and weeks months.
I was to have accompanied him but a little before the time arranged for our departure he allowed and even urged me with an appearance of wonderful self-sacrifice to go and see my unfortunate father who is very ill and my brother who is very unhappy in consequence of both the illness and its cause and whom I had not seen since the day our child was christened where he stood sponsor along with Mr Hargrave in my heart.
Not willing to impose upon my husband's good nature in thus allowing me to leave him I made but a very short stay but when I returned to Grasdale he was gone.
He left a note to explain his so hasty departure pretending that some sudden emergency had demanded his immediate presence in London.
He rendered it impossible to await my return.
Adding I had better not trouble myself to follow him as he intended to make such a short stay it would hardly be worthwhile and as of course he could travel alone in less than half the expense than if I accompanied him it would better be to defer the excursion to another year when he should have got our fares into a rather more subtle state as he was now endeavouring to do.
Was it really so or was the whole a contrivance to ensure he's going forth upon his pleasure-seeking excursion without my presence to restrain him?
It is painful to doubt the sincerity of those we love but after so many proofs of falsity and utter disregard to principle how can I believe it's so improbable a story?
I have this one source of consolation left.
He had told me some time previously that if ever he went to London or Paris again he should observe more moderation in his indulgences than before lest he should destroy his capacity for enjoyment altogether.
He had no ambition to live to a prodigious old age but he should like to have his share of life and above all to relish its pleasures to the last.
Already he feared he was not so handsome a fellow as he had been and young as he was he had lately detected some grey hairs among his beloved chestnut blocks.
He suspected he was getting a trifle fatter too but that was with good living and idleness and for the rest he trusted he was as strong and hearty as ever.
But there was no saying what another such a season of unlimited madness and devilment as the last might not do towards bringing him down.
He said this to me with unblushing effrontery and at that same blithe roguish twinkle of the eyes I once so loved to see and that low joyous laugh it used to warm my heart to hear.
Well such considerations will doubtless have more weight with him than any I could urge.
We shall see what they can do towards this preservation since no better hope remains.
July the 30th.
He returned about three weeks ago.
Rather better in health certainly than before but still worse in temper.
And yet perhaps I'm wrong.
It is I that am less patient and forbearing.
I'm tired out with his injustice his selfishness and hopeless depravity.
I wish a milder word would do.
I am no angel and my corruption rises against it.
My poor father died last week.
Arthur was vexed to hear of it because he saw I was shocked and grieved and he feared the circumstance would mar his comfort.
When I spoke of ordering my mourning he exclaimed,
Oh I hate black but however I suppose you must wear it a while for form's sake but I hope Helen you won't think it's your bounden duty to compose your face and manners into conformity with your funeral garb.
Why should you sigh and groan and I be made uncomfortable because an old gentleman a perfect stranger to us both has thought proper to drink himself to death.
There now I declare your crying.
Well it must be affectation.
He would not hear of my attending the funeral nor going for a day or two to cheer poor Frederick's solitude.
It was quite unnecessary he said and I was unreasonable to wish it.
What was my father to me?
I'd never seen him since once but I was a baby and I well knew he never cared about me and my brother too was little better than a stranger.
Besides I was a little dear Helen said he embracing me with flattering fondness I cannot spare you for a single day.
Then how have you managed without me these many days said I.
Ah then I was knocking about the world now I'm home and home without you my household deity would be intolerable.
Yes as long as I'm necessary to your comfort but you did not say so before when you urged me to leave you in order you might get away from your home without me retorted I.
But before the words were well out of my mouth I regretted having uttered them.
It seems so heavy a charge if false too gross an insult if true too humiliating a fact to be thus openly cast in his teeth but I might have spared myself that momentary pang of self-approach.
The accusation awoke neither shame nor indignation in him he attempted neither denial or excuse but only answered with a long slow chuckling laugh as if he viewed the whole transaction as a clever merry jest from beginning to end.
Sin as you brew my maiden fair keep mind that me won't drink the eel.
Yes and I will drink it to the very dregs and none but myself shall see how bitter I find it he said.
August 20th we are shaken down again to about our usual position.
Arthur has returned to nearly his former condition and habits and I have found it my wisest plan to shut my eyes against the past and future as far as he at least is concerned.
But we shall not be alone together I shall shortly be called upon to entertain the same select body of friends as we had the autumn before last with the addition of Mr.
Hattersley and at my special request his wife and child.
I long to see Millicent and her little girl too.
The latter is now above a year old she will be a charming playmate for my little Arthur.
September 30th our guests have been here a week or two but I have had no leisure to pass any comments upon them until now.
I cannot get over my dislike to Lady Lobra it is not founded on mere personal pique it is the woman herself I dislike because I so thoroughly disapprove of her.
I always avoid her company as much as I can without violating the laws of hospitality but when we do speak it is with the utmost civility.
I have seen nothing in her conduct towards Arthur to anger or alarm me.
During the first few days I thought she seemed very solicitous to win his admiration.
Her efforts were not unnoticed by him I frequently saw him smiling to himself at her artful manoeuvres but to his praise be it spoken her shafts fell powerless by his side.
Her most bewitching smiles her haughtiest frowns were ever received with the same immutable careless good humour.
Till finding he was indeed impenetrable she suddenly remitted her efforts and became to all appearance as perfectly indifferent as himself.
This was as it should be but Arthur never will let me be satisfied with him I have never for a single hour since I married him known what it is to realize that sweet idea in quietness and confidence shall be your rest.
