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Analytics Engineering with
SQL and dbt
Building Meaningful Data Models at Scale

Rui Machado and Hélder Russa


Analytics Engineering with SQL and dbt
by Rui Machado and Hélder Russa
Copyright © 2024 Rui Pedro Machado and Hélder Russa. All rights
reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North,
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978-1-098-14238-4
[LSI]
Preface

In the ever-evolving business world, a captivating concept known as


analytics engineering has emerged. It quickly became the talk of the
town, in demand by managers, presented by IT companies, and
admired by users who marveled at the possibilities it offered. But
amid the excitement, many didn’t know what analytics engineering
was about. They thought it was about creating data pipelines,
designing stunning visualizations, and using advanced algorithms.
Oh, how wrong they were!
You can imagine this extraordinary world of analytical engineering as
a cross between the meticulous investigator Sherlock Holmes,
representing the analytical side, and the genius engineer Tony Stark,
better known as Iron Man, representing the engineering side.
Imagine the remarkable problem-solving skills of Sherlock Holmes
combined with the cutting-edge technologies of Iron Man. This
combination is what defines the true power and potential of
analytical technology.
But beware: if you thought analytics engineering was limited to data
pipelines and visualizations, you missed the deep deductive thinking
that Sherlock Holmes, as a representation of a data analyst or
business analyst, brings to the equation. This field is where
analytical investigation crosses with the techniques of a software
engineer or data engineer, represented by Tony Stark.
Stop for a moment and think about the importance of data in your
business. Why do you seek it? The answer lies in the pursuit of
knowledge. Analytic technology is used to transform raw data into
actionable insights that serve as the basis for informed decisions. It’s
a powerful support system that provides facts illuminating your
business’s reality. However, it doesn’t make decisions for you but
instead provides you with the information you need to make your
business a success.
Before you dive into creating an impressive Iron Man suit of analytics
technologies, embrace the wisdom of Sherlock Holmes. Use his keen
observational skills to identify and understand the core of your
challenges. Refrain from succumbing to the lure of visualizations and
algorithms just because others are fascinated by them. Remember
that analytics engineering is more than just technology: it’s a
management tool that will be successful only if it’s aligned with your
organization’s strategies and goals. Ensuring that your key
performance indicators are aligned with the reality of your business
will ensure that the results of your analytics engineering efforts are
accurate, impactful, and won’t disappoint you.
The great adventure of analytics engineering doesn’t begin with
building data pipelines or selecting advanced algorithms. No, my
friend, it starts with a thorough introspection of your organization’s
knowledge gaps. Figure out why that knowledge is important and
how it can be leveraged to drive your business to success. Use the
transformative power of analytics as your compass, pointing the way
to success amid the vast sea of data.
In your pursuit of analytics engineering, always remember the story
of Sherlock Holmes. Avoid building an extravagant aircraft when a
humble bicycle would suffice. Let the complexity of the problem and
its contextual nuances guide your efforts. Remember that analytics
isn’t just about technology; it’s a beacon of management, an
invaluable tool that must be used with purpose and precision. Let it
become your constant companion on the road to success.

Why We Wrote This Book


In today’s era of abundant information, it is not uncommon for vital
knowledge, concepts, and techniques to become obscured amid the
rapid growth of technology and the relentless pursuit of innovation.
During this dynamic transformation, several essential concepts can
sometimes be inadvertently overlooked. This oversight doesn’t stem
from their diminishing relevance but rather from the swift pace of
progress.
One such fundamental concept that often falls by the wayside is
data modeling in the context of data management. It’s worth noting
that data modeling encompasses various approaches, including
Kimball, conceptual, logical, and physical modeling, among others.
We recognize the pressing need to emphasize the significance of
data modeling in this diverse landscape, and that’s one of the key
reasons we’ve crafted this book. Within these pages, we aim to shed
light on the intricacies and various dimensions of data modeling and
how it underpins the broader field of analytics engineering.
Over time, the importance of data modeling in guaranteeing a solid
data management system has gradually faded from general
awareness. This is not because it became outdated but rather due to
a shift in the industry’s focus. New words, tools, and methods have
emerged, making the fundamental principles less important. A
transition occurred from traditional practices to modern solutions
that promised quickness and efficiency, sometimes resulting in a loss
of foundational strength.
The rise of analytics engineering led to a resurgence. It was not just
a trend filled with fancy words but also a return to the basics,
echoing the principles of the business intelligence sector. The
difference is that modern tools, infrastructure, and techniques are
now available to implement these principles more efficiently.
So, why did we feel the need to document our thoughts? There are
two primary reasons. First and foremost, it is crucial to underscore
the enduring value and significance of well-established concepts like
data modeling. While these methodologies may have been around
for a while, they provide a robust foundation for the development of
modern techniques. Our second intention is to emphasize that
analytics engineering is not a standalone entity but rather a natural
progression from the legacy of business intelligence. By integrating
the two, organizations can construct a more resilient data value
chain, ensuring that their data is not just extensive but also
actionable, ultimately enhancing its utility.
This book is not just a sentimental trip down memory lane or a
commentary on the present. It’s a blueprint for the future. Our goal
is to help organizations revisit their foundations, appreciate the
advantages of old and new technologies, and integrate them for a
comprehensive data management approach. We’ll dig deeper into
data modeling and transformation details, explain its importance,
and examine how it interacts with modern analytics engineering
tools. We aim to provide our readers with a complete understanding,
enabling them to strengthen their data management processes and
utilize the full potential of their data.
Who This Book Is For
This book is designed for professionals, students, and enthusiasts
dealing with the complex world of data management and analytics.
Whether you’re an experienced veteran reminiscing about the basic
principles of data modeling or an aspiring analyst keen to
understand the transformation from business intelligence to
contemporary analytics engineering, our storytelling assures
clearness and direction.
Organizations seeking to strengthen their data processes will
discover immense value in the combination of well-proven principles
and modern tools discussed in this book. In summary, if you wish to
take full advantage of your data by combining the strengths of the
past with the innovations of the present, this book will guide you.
How This Book Is Organized
We’ve structured the book into six chapters:
Chapter 1, “Analytics Engineering”
This chapter traces the evolution of data management from
traditional SQL-based systems to innovative tools such as Apache
Airflow and dbt, each changing how we handle and view data.
The analytics engineer role bridges data engineering and
analytics, guaranteeing that our insights are reliable and
actionable. Despite the changes in tools and roles, the
importance and value of data remain paramount. Nevertheless,
challenges endure, such as data quality and efficient storage, as
well as optimizing compute resources for tasks like load balancing
on platforms such as Redshift or designing efficient jobs with
appropriately sized warehouses on Snowflake. Data modeling,
which involves structuring data to reflect real-world scenarios, is
at the core of these solutions.

Chapter 2, “Data Modeling for Analytics”


This chapter delves into the critical role of data modeling in
today’s analytics-driven landscape. We will investigate how it aids
in structuring data for efficient analysis and explore the
significance of data normalization in reducing duplicity. While we
emphasize the importance of normalization, it’s worth noting that
various modeling methodologies, such as Kimball and One Big
Table, advocate for different approaches, including
denormalization, depending on specific use cases. By
understanding these basic principles and considering the broader
spectrum of modeling methodologies, analysts can effectively
explore the data, ensuring substantial insights and informed
decisions. Devoid of a robust data model, whether normalized or
denormalized as per the context, the analytical process can be
inconsistent and inaccurate.
Chapter 3, “SQL for Analytics”
This chapter explores the enduring strength of SQL as a premier
analytics language. We will start by outlining the basics of
databases and how SQL serves as the primary language for
interacting with databases. Our journey will cover the usefulness
of views in streamlining queries, the powerful features of window
functions for advanced computations, and the flexibility of
common table expressions in refining complex queries. We will
also discuss SQL’s role in distributed data processing and
conclude with an exciting application of SQL in machine learning
model training.

Chapter 4, “Data Transformation with dbt”


This chapter provides a detailed exploration of dbt beyond an
initial introduction. We will examine dbt’s crucial role in the data
analytics lifecycle and demonstrate how it transforms raw data
into structured and accessible models. Our exploration will
navigate the dbt project structure, addressing features such as
model building, documentation, and testing while providing
insights into dbt artifacts, including YAML files. At the end of this
chapter, you will have a comprehensive understanding of dbt,
enabling you to seamlessly incorporate it into your analytics
workflows.

Chapter 5, “dbt Advanced Topics”


In this chapter, we’ll dig into the advanced aspects of dbt.
Beyond just views or tables, we’ll discuss the range of model
materializations in dbt, including the use of ephemeral models,
data snapshots, and the implementation of incremental models
to sidestep constant full data loads. Additionally, we’ll elevate our
analytics code, focusing on optimizing its efficiency with
techniques such as Jinja, macros, and packages to keep it DRY
(Don’t Repeat Yourself). Finally, we will also introduce the dbt
semantic layer, which plays the key role of acting as a bridge
between raw data and meaningful insights.

Chapter 6, “Building an End-to-End Analytics Engineering Use Case”


This concluding chapter consolidates everything you have learned
about analytics engineering using dbt and SQL. After deepening
the concepts, techniques, and best practices in prior chapters, we
now pivot toward a hands-on approach by crafting a complete
analytics engineering use case from scratch. dbt and SQL’s
capabilities will be harnessed to design, implement, and deploy
an all-encompassing analytics solution. Data modeling for varied
purposes will be in the spotlight. The goal is to illustrate a holistic
analytics workflow, spanning from data ingestion to reporting, by
merging insights from prior chapters. During this process, we will
overcome prevalent challenges and provide strategies to navigate
them effectively.

Conventions Used in This Book


The following typographical conventions are used in this book:
Italic
Indicates new terms, URLs, email addresses, filenames, and file
extensions.

Constant width
Used for program listings, as well as within paragraphs to refer to
program elements such as variable or function names, databases,
data types, environment variables, statements, and keywords.

Constant width bold


Shows commands or other text that should be typed literally by
the user.

Constant width italic


Shows text that should be replaced with user-supplied values or
by values determined by context.

TIP
This element signifies a tip or suggestion.

NOTE
This element signifies a general note.

Using Code Examples


Supplemental material (code examples, exercises, etc.) is available
for download at https://github.com/helder-russa/dbt-analytics-
engineer.
If you have a technical question or a problem using the code
examples, please send email to [email protected].
This book is here to help you get your job done. In general, if
example code is offered with this book, you may use it in your
programs and documentation. You do not need to contact us for
permission unless you’re reproducing a significant portion of the
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does require permission.
We appreciate, but generally do not require, attribution. An
attribution usually includes the title, author, publisher, and ISBN. For
example: “Analytics Engineering with SQL and dbt by Rui Machado
and Hélder Russa (O’Reilly). Copyright 2024 Rui Pedro Machado and
Hélder Russa, 978-1-098-14238-4.”
If you feel your use of code examples falls outside fair use or the
permission given above, feel free to contact us at
[email protected].

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Acknowledgments
I want to send a special message to my wife, Ana, and my two
wonderful daughters, Mimi and Magui. You inspire me every day to
believe in myself and to pursue my dreams unwaveringly because
what I achieve for me, I achieve for us. Above all, I want to show
my daughters that anything is possible when we set our minds to it.
Lastly, I need to thank Hélder, friend and coauthor, for keeping this
dream alive and having levels of resilience I have never seen before
in anyone.

Rui Machado
I want to thank my (future) wife for always being by my side. Her
patience and words were my rock in the toughest times. Also, a
special thank you to my parents. Without them and their efforts to
allow me to continue my studies and pursue my dreams, certainly
this book wouldn’t be possible. Again, my genuine thank you to
them. Finally, to all my anonymous and not-so-anonymous friend(s)
and coauthor, Rui, who stood by my side with their positivity and
constructive feedback, and substantially enriched the content of this
book.

Hélder Russa
Chapter 1. Analytics
Engineering

The historical development of analytics includes significant


milestones and technologies that have shaped the field into what it
is today. It began with the advent of data warehousing in the 1980s,
which created the foundational framework for organizing and
analyzing business data. Bill Inmon, a computer scientist who
continued to publish throughout the 1980s and 1990s, is widely
regarded as providing the first solid theoretical foundation for data
warehousing.
A subsequent wave of development occurred when Ralph Kimball,
another leading contributor to data warehousing and business
intelligence (BI), published his influential work, The Data Warehouse
Toolkit, in 1996. Kimball’s work laid the foundation for dimensional
modeling, marking another crucial milestone in the evolution of
analytics. Together, the contributions of Inmon and Kimball,
spanning the late 20th century, played pivotal roles in shaping the
landscape of data warehousing and analytics.
In the early 2000s, the emergence of tech giants like Google and
Amazon created the need for more advanced solutions for
processing massive amounts of data, leading to the release of the
Google File System and Apache Hadoop. This marked the era of Big
Data Engineering, in which professionals used the Hadoop
framework to process large amounts of data.
The rise of public cloud providers like Amazon Web Services (AWS)
revolutionized the way software and data applications were
developed and deployed. One of the pioneering offerings from AWS
was Amazon Redshift, introduced in 2012. It represented an
interesting blend of online analytical processing (OLAP) and
traditional database technologies. In its early days, Redshift required
database administrators to manage tasks like vacuuming and scaling
to maintain optimal performance.
Over time, cloud native technologies have continued to evolve, and
Redshift itself has undergone significant enhancements. While
retaining its core strengths, newer versions of Redshift, along with
cloud native platforms like Google BigQuery and Snowflake, have
streamlined many of these administrative tasks, offering advanced
data processing capabilities to enterprises of all sizes. This evolution
highlights the ongoing innovation within the cloud data processing
ecosystem.
The modern data stack, consisting of tools like Apache Airflow, data
build tool (dbt), and Looker, further transformed data workflows.
With these advances, the term “Big Data engineer” became
obsolete, making way for a data engineer’s broader and more
inclusive role. This shift was recognized in the influential articles of
Maxime Beauchemin—creator of Apache Superset and Airflow and
one of the first data engineers at Facebook and Airbnb—particularly
in his article “The Rise of the Data Engineer”, which highlighted the
growing importance of data engineering in the industry. All of these
rapid developments in the data field have led to significant changes
in the role of data professionals. With the advent of data tools,
simple tasks are becoming strategic tasks.
Today’s data engineers have a multifaceted role that encompasses
data modeling, quality assurance, security, data management,
architectural design, and orchestration. They are increasingly
adopting software engineering practices and concepts, such as
functional data engineering and declarative programming, to
enhance their workflows. While Python and structured query
language (SQL) stand out as indispensable languages for data
engineers, it’s important to note that the choice of programming
languages can vary widely in this field. Engineers may leverage other
languages such as Java (commonly used for managing Apache Spark
and Beam), Scala (also prevalent in the Spark and Beam
ecosystem), Go, and more, depending on the specific needs and
preferences of their projects. The combination of languages like Java
and SQL is also common among data engineers at large
organizations.
Organizations are increasingly moving toward decentralized data
teams, self-service platforms, and alternative data storage options.
As data engineers are forced to adapt to all these market changes,
we often see some taking on a more technical role, focusing on
platform enablement. Other data engineers work closer to the
business, designing, implementing, and maintaining systems that
turn raw data into high-value information as they adapt to this
accelerated industry that is bringing new tools to market every day
and spawning the fantastic world of analytics engineering.
In this chapter, we provide an introduction to the field of analytics
engineering and its role in the data-driven decision-making process.
We discuss the importance of analytics engineering in today’s data-
driven world and the primary roles of an analytics engineer. In
addition, we will explore how the analytics engineering lifecycle is
used to manage the analytics process and how it ensures the quality
and accuracy of the data and insights generated. We will also
address the current trends and technologies shaping the field of
analytics engineering, from history to the present, touching on
emerging concepts like data mesh, and discussing the fundamental
choices between extract, load, and transform (ELT) and extract,
transform, and load (ETL) strategies as well as the many data
modeling techniques being adopted around the world.

Databases and Their Impact on Analytics


Engineering
For a long time now, data has increasingly become the focus of
interest for companies that want to stay one step ahead of the
competition, improve their internal processes, or merely understand
the behavior of their customers. With new tools, new ways of
working, and new areas of knowledge such as data science and BI,
it’s becoming increasingly difficult to fully survey and understand the
data landscape these days.
The natural progress of technology has caused an oversupply of
data analysis, visualization, and storage tools, each offering unique
features and capabilities. Nevertheless, an accelerated deployment
of those tools has resulted in a fragmented landscape, requiring
individuals and organizations to remain up-to-date with the most
recent technological developments while at the same time having to
make prudent choices on how to use them. Sometimes this
abundance creates confusion and requires a continuous cycle of
learning and adaptation.
The evolution of work practices is accompanied by a diversification
of tools. Dynamic and Agile methodologies have replaced traditional
approaches to data management and analysis. Iterative practices
and cross-functional collaboration introduce flexibility and speed to
data projects, but they also pose a challenge in harmonizing
workflows across diverse teams and roles. Effective communication
and alignment are crucial as diverse facets of the data process
converge, creating a need for a comprehensive understanding of
these novel work practices.
Specialized areas such as data science and BI have increased the
complexity of the data field as well. Data scientists apply advanced
statistical and machine learning techniques to detect complex
patterns, whereas BI experts extract valuable information from raw
data to produce practical insights. Such specialized areas introduce
refined techniques that require regular skill development and
learning. A successful adoption of these practices necessitates a
dedicated commitment to education and a flexible approach to skill
acquisition.
As data spreads across the digital domain, it carries with it
unforeseen amounts, varieties, and speeds. The flood of data, along
with the complex features of present-day data sources, such as
Internet of things (IoT) gadgets and unorganized text, makes data
management even more demanding. The details of incorporating,
converting, and assessing data precision become more apparent,
emphasizing the need for strong methods that guarantee reliable
and precise insights.
The multifaceted nature of the data world compounds its complexity.
As an outcome of converging skills from various domains, including
computer science, statistics, and field-specific proficiency, a
cooperative and communicative strategy is necessary. This
multidisciplinary interaction accentuates the significance of efficient
teamwork and knowledge sharing.
But that has not always been the case. For decades, spreadsheets
were the standard technology for storing, managing, and analyzing
data at all levels, both for business operational management and for
analytics to understand it. However, as businesses have become
more complex, so has the need for data-related decision making.
And the first of these came in the form of a revolution called
databases. Databases can be defined as an organized collection of
structured information or data, usually stored electronically in a
computer system. This data can be in the form of text, numbers,
images, or other types of digital information. Data is stored in a way
that facilitates access and retrieval using a set of predefined rules
and structures called a schema.
Databases are an essential part of analytics because they provide a
way to efficiently store, organize, and retrieve large amounts of
data, allowing analysts to easily access the data they need to
perform complex analyses to gain insights that would otherwise be
difficult or impossible to obtain. In addition, databases can be
configured to ensure data integrity, which guarantees that the data
being analyzed is accurate and consistent and thus makes the
analysis more reliable and trustworthy.
One of the most common ways to use databases for analytics is the
data warehousing technique, that is, to construct and use a data
warehouse. A data warehouse is a large, centralized data store
designed to simplify data use. The data in a data warehouse is
typically extracted from a variety of sources, such as transactional
systems, external data feeds, and other databases. The data is then
cleansed, transformed, and integrated into a single, consistent data
model that typically follows a dimensional modeling technique such
as the star schema or Data Vault.
Another important use of databases in analytics is the process of
data mining. Data mining uses statistical and machine learning
techniques to uncover patterns and relationships in large datasets.
In this way, trends can be identified, future behavior can be
predicted, and other types of predictions can be made.
Database technologies and data scientists have thus played a crucial
role in the emergence of data science by providing a way to
efficiently store, organize, and retrieve large amounts of data,
enabling data scientists to work with large datasets and focus on
what matters: gaining knowledge from data.
The use of SQL and other programming languages, such as Python
or Scala, that allow interaction with databases has enabled data
scientists to perform complex data queries and manipulations. Also,
the use of data visualization tools such as Tableau and Microsoft
Power BI, which easily integrate with database engines, has made it
easier for data scientists to present their findings in a clear and
intuitive way.
With the advent of Big Data and the growing demand to store and
process vast datasets, various database technologies have emerged
to meet diverse needs. For instance, data analysts often rely on
databases for a wide range of applications, including data
warehousing, data mining, and integration with BI tools like Tableau.
However, it’s important to delve deeper into these use cases to
understand the need for analytics engineering. When connecting BI
tools directly to operational databases (online transaction processing
[OLTP] replicas), performance and scalability can be limited. This
approach may work well for smaller datasets and simple queries, but
as data volumes grow and the complexity of analytics increases, it
can lead to performance bottlenecks and suboptimal query response
times.
This is where analytics engineering comes into play. Analytics
engineers are experts in optimizing data workflows, transforming
and aggregating data to ensure it’s in the right format for analytical
tasks. They design and maintain data pipelines that ETL data from
various sources into optimized data warehouses or data lakes. By
doing so, they help organizations overcome the limitations of direct
OLTP connections, enabling faster and more efficient data analysis
with tools like Tableau. In essence, analytics engineering bridges the
gap between raw data and actionable insights, ensuring that data
analysts and scientists can work with large, complex datasets
effectively.

Cloud Computing and Its Impact on Analytics


Engineering
In recent decades, the world has faced a series of complicated
challenges with significant technical implications. Economic
downturns have driven innovations in financial technologies and risk
management systems. Geopolitical tensions have required advances
in cybersecurity to protect critical infrastructure and sensitive data.
Global health crises have underscored the importance of advanced
data analytics and predictive modeling for disease surveillance and
management. In addition, the urgent need to combat climate
change has driven the development of cutting-edge renewable
energy technologies and sustainable engineering solutions to meet
climate goals.
Amid these challenges, the pursuit of profit and growth remains a
key driver for businesses worldwide. However, the value of human
labor time has taken on a new dimension, leading to significant
changes in the way businesses operate and how cloud computing
accommodates them. This change is reflected in the increasing
adoption of managed and serverless offerings that reduce reliance
on full-time support staff such as database administrators.
As companies adapt to this changing landscape, innovation,
differentiation, and sustainability of business models and strategies
have become essential considerations for companies seeking to
succeed in a rapidly changing world. The information technology and
systems industry found in this context a good opportunity to grow its
capabilities in helping organizations overcome this world of
uncertainty and pressure. The rationalization of operating models
has become urgent, requiring a re-evaluation of data centers and
pricing structures. In addition, product and service offerings must
focus primarily on ease of use, lower latency, improved security, a
broader range of real-time tools, more integration, more intelligence,
less code, and a faster time to market.
Organizations have recognized the importance of investing in
innovative tools, driving digital transformation, and adopting a data-
centric approach to decision making to achieve greater agility and
competitive advantage. To achieve these goals, many are focusing
on leveraging well-curated data from internal and external sources.
This carefully structured data can provide valuable insights into
business performance.
In the industry, the practice of creating, visualizing, and analyzing
interconnected business data in an accessible format is commonly
referred to as data analytics. Historically, it has also been known as
business intelligence, and the two terms are closely related. While BI
is a subset of analytics and focuses on business-oriented decision
making, data analytics encompasses a broader spectrum that
includes product analytics, operational analytics, and several other
specialized areas. Both BI and data analytics play pivotal roles in
helping organizations gain a competitive edge through data-driven
insights.
Although data analytics offers numerous benefits for improving and
reshaping business strategies and monitoring performance, it
requires significant financial investment in servers, software licenses,
and specialized staff such as data engineers, data scientists, and
data visualization specialists. In times of economic crisis, the high
up-front and operational costs associated with IT hardware,
software, and specialists can be perceived as impractical and
unattractive.
As a result, on-premises solutions, where the infrastructure for data
analytics is set up and managed on a company’s own premises,
often lose their appeal. This is especially true for newcomers to
analytics who are unfamiliar with the concept. On-premises solutions
typically require significant investment in hardware, software, and
ongoing maintenance. They are also less flexible and scalable
compared to cloud-based data analytics solutions. This shift in
preferences is clearing the way for new cloud-based data analytics
solutions that meet similar business needs as traditional data
analytics. However, instead of relying on on-premises servers and
software, cloud-based solutions leverage cloud computing services to
accelerate deployment and minimize infrastructure costs.
The increasing adoption of cloud computing in various industries has
led software vendors such as Microsoft, Google, and Amazon to
develop advanced tools for data analysis and data warehousing.
These tools are designed to operate in the cloud computing
paradigm and leverage shared network resources to enable greater
accessibility and streamlined deployment. A vivid example of this
trend is Microsoft’s comprehensive data analytics platform, Microsoft
Fabric.
In parallel, dbt from dbt Labs, which we discuss in more detail later
in this book, stands out as a versatile hybrid product. dbt, like
Hadoop, is an open source solution that gives users the flexibility to
deploy it according to their specific needs, whether in the cloud or
on premises. In its cloud version, dbt integrates seamlessly with
leading cloud platforms, including Microsoft Azure, Google Cloud
Platform (GCP), and AWS. This open source nature gives
organizations the ability to customize their deployment to their
unique requirements and infrastructure preferences.
While cloud-based data analytics solutions and platforms are a global
trend and a central concept of the modern data platform, it’s
important to recognize that cloud computing solutions bring both
benefits and risks that shouldn’t be overlooked. These risks include
potential security issues, the physical location of servers, and the
costs associated with moving away from a particular provider.
Nonetheless, cloud technologies are currently changing the way
organizations deploy and construct information systems and
technology solutions, and data analytics is no exception. That’s why
it’s essential to recognize that moving to the cloud will soon no
longer be an option but a necessity. Understanding the benefits of
analytics solutions in the form of services is important. Otherwise,
providing timely information to decision-makers with on-premises
solutions that lack flexibility and scalability could become
increasingly challenging if this transition isn’t addressed.
However, although cloud technologies bring several benefits, such as
economies of scale and flexibility, they also bring information
security issues. The concentration of data in cloud infrastructures
makes them attractive targets for unauthorized attacks. To succeed
in the cloud in the data context, organizations must understand and
mitigate the risks associated with cloud computing. Key risks include
data privacy, loss of control, incomplete or insecure deletion of data,
unauthorized internal access, data availability, and complex costing.
Data privacy is a significant concern because it’s challenging to verify
that vendors are handling data in compliance with laws and
standards, even though public audit reports from vendors can help
build trust. In nonintegrated scenarios, data security risks multiply as
data flows among various systems and data centers, increasing the
risk of interception and synchronization. Another important risk is
vendor dependency, which occurs when responsibility for data
management rests solely within one service provider in such a way
that it limits the ability to migrate to other solutions. This kind of
dependency ends up limiting an organization’s control over decision
making and authority over data. While these are just a few known
risks, we can already understand that organizations need to get a
handle on these risks to effectively reap the benefits of cloud-based
data analytics solutions. This requires careful consideration,
adherence to security standards and best practices, and ongoing
cost control to measure the return on investment.
If all risks are correctly addressed and mitigated in a proper data
strategy that outlines how an organization will manage its
information assets, including the cloud strategy, technology,
processes, people, and rules involved, an organization can gain a
substantial competitive advantage when compared to one that
doesn’t have a data strategy. By focusing on cloud computing and
leveraging a cloud data platform, organizations can transform raw
data into meaningful insights, accelerating the process of building a
solid data foundation. This enables efficient sourcing, structuring,
and analysis of relevant data, and it even supports the adoption of
AI technologies while driving value in less time and at a lower cost
than traditional methods.
Interestingly, the relationship between a cloud data platform,
analytics, and AI is symbiotic. Implementing a cloud data platform
accelerates the adoption of an analytics-driven architecture and
enables the full operationalization of AI initiatives. It empowers
organizations to use all relevant data, gain enterprise-wide insights,
and unlock new business opportunities. By eliminating the need to
manage multiple tools, organizations can focus on data
modernization, accelerate insight discovery, and benefit from existing
technology partnerships, thereby advancing their AI journey.
This is why it’s fair to say that cloud computing has been a core
component of both modern data platforms and the cloud-based
analytics and AI platforms that continuously grow in volume every
day and thus contribute to the disruption of this industry.

The Data Analytics Lifecycle


The data analytics lifecycle is a series of steps to transform raw data
into valuable and easily consumable data products. These can range
from well-managed datasets to dashboards, reports, APIs, or even
web applications. In other words, it describes how data is created,
collected, processed, used, and analyzed to achieve a specific
product or business goal.
The increasing complexity in organizational dynamics directly
impacts how data is handled. Numerous people must use the same
data but with different goals. While a top executive might need to
know just a few top-level key performance indicators to track
business performance, a middle manager might need a more
granular report to support daily decisions.
This highlights the need for a governed and standardized approach
to creating and maintaining data products based on the same data
foundation. Given the many decisions an organization must make
regarding its data governance, technologies, and management
processes, following a structured approach is fundamental to
documenting and continuously updating an organization’s data
strategy.
The data analytics lifecycle is, therefore, an essential framework for
understanding and mapping the phases and processes involved in
creating and maintaining an analytics solution (Figure 1-1). It is an
essential concept in data science and analytics and provides a
structured approach to managing the various tasks and activities
required to create an effective analytics solution.

Figure 1-1. Data analytics lifecycle


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happily, as we all know, under the other appellation they smelt just as sweet.
Mrs. Dennistoun kept up all this little state because she had been used to do
so; because it was part of a lady’s accoutrements, so to speak. She had also
a cushion, which was necessary, if not for comfort, yet for her sense of
being fully equipped, placed behind her back when she sat down. But with
all this she was not a formal or prim person. She was a woman who had not
produced a great deal of effect in life; one of those who are not accustomed
to have their advice taken, or to find that their opinion has much weight
upon others. Perhaps it was because Elinor resembled her father that this
peculiarity which had affected all Mrs. Dennistoun’s married life should
have continued into a sphere where she ought to have been paramount. But
she was with her daughter as she had been with her husband, a person of an
ineffective character, taking refuge from the sensation of being unable to
influence those about her whose wills were stronger than her own, by
relinquishing authority, and in her most decided moments offering an
opinion only, no more. This was not because she was really undecided, for
on the contrary she knew her own mind well enough; but it had become a
matter of habit with her to insist upon no opinion, knowing, as she did, how
little chance she had of imposing her opinion upon the stronger wills about
her. She had two other children older than Elinor: one, the eldest of all,
married in India, a woman with many children of her own, practically
altogether severed from the maternal nest; the other an adventurous son,
who was generally understood to be at the ends of the earth, but seldom or
never had any more definite address. This lady had naturally gone through
many pangs and anxieties on behalf of these children, who had dropped
away from her side into the unknown; but it belonged to her character to
have said very little about this, so that she was generally supposed to take
things very easily, and other mothers were apt to admire the composure of
Mrs. Dennistoun, whose son might be being murdered by savages at any
moment, for anything she knew—or minded, apparently. “Now it would
have driven me out of my senses!” the other ladies said. Mrs. Dennistoun
perhaps did not feel the back so well fitted to the burden as appeared—but
she kept her own sentiments on this subject entirely to herself.
(I may say too—but this, the young reader may skip without
disadvantage—by way of explanation of a peculiarity which has lately been
much remarked as characteristic of those records of human history
contemptuously called fiction, i.e., the unimportance, or ill-report, or unjust
disapproval of the mother in records of this description—that it is almost
impossible to maintain her due rank and character in a piece of history,
which has to be kept within certain limits—and where her daughter the
heroine must have the first place. To lessen her pre-eminence by dwelling at
length upon the mother, unless that mother is a fool, or a termagant, or
something thoroughly contrasting with the beauty and virtues of the
daughter—would in most cases be a mistake in art. For one thing the
necessary incidents are wanting, for I strongly object, and so I think do
most people, to mothers who fall in love, or think of marriage, or any such
vanity in their own person, and unless she is to interfere mischievously with
the young lady’s prospects, or take more or less the part of the villain, how
is she to be permitted any importance at all? For there cannot be two suns in
one sphere, or two centres to one world. Thus the mother has to be
sacrificed to the daughter: which is a parable; or else it is the other way,
which is against all the principles and prepossessions of life.)
Elinor did not sit up like her mother. She had flung herself upon the
opposite sofa, with her arms flung behind her head, supporting it with her
fingers half buried in the twists of her hair. She was not tall like Mrs.
Dennistoun, and there was far more vivid colour than had ever been the
mother’s in her brown eyes and bright complexion, which was milk-white
and rose-red after an old-fashioned rule of colour, too crude perhaps for
modern artistic taste. Sometimes these delightful tints go with a placid soul
which never varies, but in Elinor’s case there was a demon in the hazel of
the eyes, not dark enough for placidity, all fire at the best of times, and
ready in a moment to burst into flame. She it was who had to be in the
forefront of the interest, and not her mother, though for metaphysical, or
what I suppose should now be called psychological interests, the elder lady
was probably the most interesting of the two. Elinor beat her foot upon the
carpet, out of sheer impatience, while John lingered alone in the dining-
room. What did he stay there for? When there are several men together, and
they drink wine, the thing is comprehensible; but one man alone who takes
his claret with his dinner, and cares for nothing more, why should he stay
behind when there was so much to say to him, and not one minute too much
time till Monday morning, should the house be given up to talk not only by
day but by night? But it was no use beating one’s foot, for John did not
come.
“You spoke to your cousin, Elinor, before dinner?” her mother said.
“Oh, yes, I spoke to him before dinner. What did he come here for but
that? I sent for him on purpose, you know, mamma, to hear what he would
say.”
“And what did he say?”
This most natural question produced a small convulsion once more on
Elinor’s side. She loosed the hands that had been supporting her head and
flung them out in front of her. “Oh, mamma, how can you be so
exasperating! What did he say? What was he likely to say? If the beggar
maid that married King Cophetua had a family it would have been exactly
the same thing—though in that case surely the advantage was all on the
gentleman’s side.”
“We know none of the particulars in that case,” said Mrs. Dennistoun,
calmly. “I have always thought it quite possible that the beggar maid was a
princess of an old dynasty and King Cophetua a parvenu. But in your case,
Elinor——”
“You know just as little,” said the girl, impetuously.
“That is what I say. I don’t know the man who has possessed himself of
my child’s fancy and heart. I want to know more about him. I want——”
“For goodness’ sake, whatever you want, don’t be sentimental,
mamma!”
“Was I sentimental? I didn’t mean it. He has got your heart, my dear,
whatever words may be used.”
“Yes—and for ever!” said the girl, turning round upon herself. “I know
you think I don’t know my own mind; but there will never be any change in
me. Oh, what does John mean, sitting all by himself in that stuffy room? He
has had time to smoke a hundred cigarettes!”
“Elinor, you must not forget it is rather hard upon John to be brought
down to settle your difficulties for you. What do you want with him? Only
that he should advise you to do what you have settled upon doing. If he
took the other side, how much attention would you give him? You must be
reasonable, my dear.”
“I would give him every attention,” said Elinor, “if he said what was
reasonable. You don’t think mere blind opposition is reasonable, I hope,
mamma. To say Don’t, merely, without saying why, what reason is there in
that?”
“My dear, when you argue I am lost. I am not clever at making out my
ground. Mine is not mere blind opposition, or indeed opposition at all. You
have been always trained to use your own faculties, and I have never made
any stand against you.”
“Why not? why not?” said the girl, springing to her feet. “That is just the
dreadful, dreadful part of it! Why don’t you say straight out what I am to do
and keep to it, and not tell me I must make use of my own faculties? When I
do, you put on a face and object. Either don’t object, or tell me point-blank
what I am to do.”
“Do you think for one moment if I did, you would obey me, Elinor?”
“Oh, I don’t know what I might do in that case, for it will never happen.
You will never take that responsibility. For my part, if you locked me up in
my room and kept me on bread and water I should think that reasonable;
but not this kind of letting I dare not wait upon I would, saying I am to
exercise my own faculties, and then hesitating and finding fault.”
“I daresay, my dear,” said Mrs. Dennistoun, with great tolerance, “that
this may be provoking to your impatient mind: but you must put yourself in
my place a little, as I try to put myself in yours. I have never seen Mr.
Compton. It is probable, or at least quite possible, that if I knew him I might
look upon him with your eyes——”
“Probable! Possible! What words to use! when all my happiness, all my
life, everything I care for is in it: and my own mother thinks it just possible
that she might be able to tolerate the man that—the man who——”
She flung herself down on her seat again, panting and excited. “Did you
wear out Adelaide like that,” she cried, “before she married, papa and you
——”
“Adelaide was very different, Elinor. She married selon les règles a man
whom we all knew. There was no trouble about it. Your father was the one
who was impatient then. He thought it too well arranged, too commonplace
and satisfactory. You may believe he did not object to that in words, but he
laughed at them and it worried him. It has done very well on the whole,”
said Mrs. Dennistoun, with a faint sigh.
“You say that—and then you sigh. There is always a little reserve. You
are never wholly satisfied.”
“One seldom is in this world,” said Mrs. Dennistoun, this time with a
soft laugh. “This world is not very satisfactory. One makes the best one can
of it.”
“And that is just what I hate to hear,” said Elinor, “what I have always
heard. Oh, yes, when you don’t say it you mean it, mamma. One can read it
in the turn of your head. You put up with things. You think perhaps they
might have been worse. In every way that’s your philosophy. And it’s
killing, killing to all life! I would rather far you said out, ‘Adelaide’s
husband is a prig and I hate him.’ ”
“There is only one drawback, that it would not be true. I don’t in the
least hate him. I am glad I was not called upon to marry him myself, I don’t
think I should have liked it. But he makes Adelaide a very good husband,
and she is quite happy with him—as far as I know.”
“The same thing again—never more. I wonder, I wonder after I have
been married a dozen years what you will say of me?”
“I wonder, too: if we could but know that it would solve the question,”
the mother said. Elinor looked at her with a provoked and impatient air,
which softened off after a moment—partly because she heard the door of
the dining-room open—into a smile.
“I try you in every way,” she said, half laughing. “I do everything to
beguile you into a pleasanter speech. I thought you must at least have said
then that you hoped you would have nothing to say but happiness. No! you
are not to be caught, however one tries, mamma.”
John came in at this moment, not without a whiff about him of the
cigarette over which he had lingered so. It relieved him to see the two ladies
seated opposite each other in the bow window, and to hear something like a
laugh in the air. Perhaps they were discussing other things, and not this
momentous marriage question, in which certainly no laughter was.
“You have your usual fire,” he said, “but the wind has quite gone down,
and I am sure it is not wanted to-night.”
“It looks cheerful always, John.”
“Which is the reason, I suppose, why you carefully place yourself out of
sight of it—one of the prejudices of English life.”
And then he came forward into the recess of the window, which was
partly separated from the room by a table with flowers on it, and a great
bush in a pot, of delicate maiden-hair fern. It was perhaps significant,
though he did not mean it for any demonstration of partisanship, that he sat
down on Elinor’s side. Both the ladies felt it so instinctively, although, on
the contrary, had the truth been known, all John’s real agreement was with
the mother; but in such a conjuncture it is not truth but personal sympathy
that carries the day. “You are almost in the dark here,” he said.
“Neither of us is doing anything. One is lazy on a summer night.”
“There is a great deal more in it than that,” said Elinor, in a voice which
faltered a little. “You talk about summer nights, and the weather, and all
manner of indifferent things, but you know all the time there is but one real
subject to talk of, and that we are all thinking of that.”
“That is my line, aunt,” said John. “Elinor is right. We might sit and
make conversation, but of course this is the only subject we are thinking of.
It’s very kind of you to take me into the consultation. Of course I am in a
kind of way the nearest in relation, and the only man in the family—except
my father—and I know a little about law, and all that. Now let me hear
formally, as if I knew nothing about it (and, in fact, I know very little), what
the question is. Elinor has met someone who—who has proposed to her—
not to put too fine a point upon it,” said John, with a smile that was
somewhat ghastly—“and she has accepted him. Congratulations are
understood, but here there arises a hitch.”
“There arises no hitch. Mamma is dissatisfied (which mamma generally
is) chiefly because she does not know Mr. Compton; and some wretched old
woman, who doesn’t know him either, has written to her—to her and also to
me—telling us a pack of lies,” said Elinor, indignantly, “to which I do not
give the least credence for a moment—not for a moment!”
“That’s all very well for you,” said John, “it’s quite simple; but for us,
Elinor—that is, for your mother and me, as you are good enough to allow
me to have a say in the matter—it’s not so simple. We feel, you know, that,
like Cæsar’s wife, our Elinor’s—husband”—he could not help making a
grimace as he said that word, but no one saw or suspected it—“should be
above suspicion.”
“That is exactly what I feel, John.”
“Well, we must do something about it, don’t you see? Probably it will be
as easy as possible for him to clear himself.” (The dis-Honourable Phil!
Good heavens! to think it was a man branded with such a name that was to
marry Elinor! For a moment he was silenced by the thought, as if some one
had given him a blow.)
“To clear himself!” said Elinor. “And do you think I will permit him to
be asked to clear himself? Do you think I will allow him to believe for a
moment that I believed anything against him? Do you think I will take the
word of a spiteful old woman?”
“Old women are not always spiteful, and they are sometimes right.” John
put out his hand to prevent Mrs. Dennistoun from speaking, which, indeed,
she had no intention of doing. “I don’t mean so, of course, in Mr.
Compton’s case—and I don’t know what has been said.”
“Things that are very uncomfortable—very inconsistent with a happy
life and a comfortable establishment,” said Mrs. Dennistoun.
“Oh, if you could only hear yourself, mamma! You are not generally a
Philistine, I must say that for you; but if you only heard the tone in which
you said ‘comfortable establishment!’ the most conventional match-making
in existence could not have done it better; and as for what has been said,
there has nothing been said but what is said about everybody—what,
probably, would be said of you yourself, John, for you play whist
sometimes, I hear, and often billiards, at the club.”
A half-audible “God forbid!” had come from John’s lips when she said,
“What would probably be said of yourself”—audible that is to Elinor, not to
the mother. She sprang up as this murmur came to her ear: “Oh, if you are
going to prejudge the case, there is nothing for me to say!”
“I should be very sorry to prejudge the case, or to judge it all,” said John.
“I am too closely interested to be judicial. Let somebody who knows
nothing about it be your judge. Let the accusations be submitted—to your
Rector, say; he’s a sensible man enough, and knows the world. He won’t be
scared by a rubber at the club, or that sort of thing. Let him inquire, and
then your mind will be at rest.”
“There is only one difficulty, John,” said Mrs. Dennistoun. “Mr. Hudson
would be the best man in the world, only for one thing—that it is from his
sister and his wife that the warning came.”
“Oh!” said John. This fact seemed to take him aback in the most
ludicrous way. He sat and gazed at them, and had not another word to say.
Perhaps the fact that he himself who suggested the inquiry was still better
informed of the true state of the case, and of the truth of the accusation, than
were those to whom he might have submitted it, gave him a sense of the
hopelessness and also absurdity of the attempt more than anything else
could have done.
“And that proves, if there was nothing else,” said Elinor, “how false it is:
for how could Mrs. Hudson and Mary Dale know? They are not fashionable
people, they are not in society. How could they or any one like them know
anything of Phil”—she stopped quickly, drew herself up, and added—“of
Mr. Compton, I mean?”
“They might not know, but they might state their authority,” Mrs.
Dennistoun said; “and if the Rector cannot be used to help us, surely, John,
you are a man of the world, you are not like a woman, unacquainted with
evidence. Why should not you do it, though you are, as you kindly say, an
interested party?”
“He shall not do it. I forbid him to do it. If he takes in hand anything of
the kind he must say good-by to me.”
“You hear?” said John; “but I could not do it in any case, my dear Elinor.
I am too near. I never could see this thing all round. Why not your lawyer,
old Lynch, a decent old fellow——”
“I will tell him the same,” cried Elinor; “I will never speak to him
again.”
“My dear,” said her mother, “you will give everybody the idea that you
don’t want to know the truth.”
“I know the truth already,” said Elinor, rising with great dignity. “Do you
think that any slander would for a moment shake my faith in you—or you?
You don’t deserve it, John, for you turn against me—you that I thought
were going to take my part; but do you think if all the people in London set
up one story that I would believe it against you? And how should I against
him?” she added, with an emphasis upon the word, as expressing something
immeasurably more to be loved and trusted than either mother or cousin, by
which, after having raised John up to a sort of heaven of gratified affection,
she let him down again to the ground like a stone. Oh, yes! trusted in with
perfect faith, nothing believed against him, whom she had known all her
life—but yet not to be mentioned in the same breath with the ineffable trust
she reposed in the man she loved—whom she did not know at all. The first
made John’s countenance beam with emotion and pleasure, the second
brought a cold shade over his face. For a moment he could scarcely speak.
“She bribes us,” he said at last, forcing a smile. “She flatters us, but only
to let us drop again, Mrs. Dennistoun; it is as good as saying, ‘What are we
to him?’ ”
“They all do so,” said the elder lady, calmly; “I am used to it.”
“But, perhaps, I am not quite—used to it,” said John, with something in
his voice which made them both look at him—Elinor only for a moment,
carelessly, before she swept away—Mrs. Dennistoun with a more warmly
awakened sensation, as if she had made some discovery. “Ah!” she said,
with a tone of pain. But Elinor did not wait for any further disclosures. She
waved her hand, and went off with her head high, carrying, as she felt, the
honours of war. They might plot, indeed, behind her back, and try to invent
some tribunal before which her future husband might be arraigned; but
John, at least, would say nothing to make things worse. John would be true
to her—he would not injure Phil Compton. Elinor, perhaps, guessed a little
of what John was thinking, and felt, though she could scarcely have told
how, that it would be a point of honour with him not to betray her love.
He sat with Mrs. Dennistoun in partial silence for some time after this.
He felt as if he had been partially discovered—partially, and yet more
would be discovered than there was to discover; for if either of them
believed that he was in love with Elinor, they were mistaken, he said to
himself. He had been annoyed by her engagement, but he had never come
to the point of asking her that question in his own person. No, nor would
not, he said to himself—certainly would not—not even to save her from the
clutches of this gambler and adventurer. No; they might think what they
liked, but this was the case. He never should have done it—never would
have exposed himself to refusal—never besought this high-tempered girl to
have the control of his life. Poor Nelly all the same! poor little thing! To
think she had so little judgment as to ignore what might have been a great
deal better, and to pin her faith to the dis-Honourable Phil.
CHAPTER IV.
In the morning John accompanied Elinor to church. Mrs. Dennistoun had
found an excuse for not going, which I am sorry to say was a way she had.
She expressed (and felt) much sorrow for it herself, saying, which was quite
true, that not to go was a great distress to her, and put the household out,
and was a custom she did not approve of. But somehow it had grown upon
her. She regretted this, but did it, saying that everybody was illogical, and
that when Elinor had some one to go with she thought herself justified at
her age in this little indulgence. Neither Elinor nor John objected to the
arrangement. There are things that can be said in a walk while both parties
are in motion, and when it is not necessary to face each other and to be
subjected each to the other’s examination of feature and expression. It is
easier in this way to say many things, to ask questions which might be
embarrassing, to receive the fire of an examination which it might be
otherwise difficult to meet. Thus the two had not walked above half the way
to church, which was on the other edge of the combe, and stood, a lovely
old place—but not the trim and restored and well-decorated edifice it is
nowadays—tinkling its little bells into the sweet moorland air, amid such a
hum of innumerable bees as seemed to make the very sunshine a vehicle for
sound—before John began to perceive that he was being ingeniously driven
to revelations which he had never intended, by a process for which he was
not at all prepared. She who had been so indignant last night and
determined not to allow a word to be said against the immaculate honour of
the man she loved, was now—was it possible?—straining all her faculties
to obtain from him, whom she would not permit to be Phil Compton’s
judge, such unguarded admissions as would enlighten her as to what Phil
Compton was accused of. It was some time before John perceived her aim;
he did not even grasp the idea at first that this girl whose whole heart was
set upon marrying Phil Compton, and defying for his sake every prophecy
of evil and all the teachings of prudence, did not indeed at all know what it
was which Phil had been supposed to have done. Had she been a girl in
society she could scarcely have avoided some glimmerings of knowledge.
She would have heard an unguarded word here and there, a broken phrase,
an expression of scorn or dislike, she might even have heard that most
unforgettable of nicknames, the dis-Honourable Phil. But Elinor, who was
not in society, heard none of these things. She had been warned in the first
fervour of her betrothal that he was not a man she ought to marry, but why?
nobody had told her; how was she to know?
“You don’t like Lady Mariamne, John?”
“It matters very little whether I like her or not: we don’t meet once in a
year.”
“It will matter if you are to be in a kind of way connected. What has she
ever done that you shouldn’t like her? She is very nice at home; she has
three nice little children. It’s quite pretty to see her with them.”
“Ah, I daresay; it’s pretty to see a tiger with her cubs, I don’t doubt.”
“What do you mean, John? What has she ever done?”
“I cannot tell you, Elinor; nothing perhaps. She does not take my fancy:
that’s all.”
“That’s not all; you could never be so unjust and so absurd. How
dreadful you good people are! Pretending to mean kindness,” she cried,
“you put the mark of your dislike upon people, and then you won’t say why.
What have they done?”
It was this “they” that put John upon his guard. Hitherto she had only
been asking about the sister, who did not matter so very much. If a man was
to be judged by his sister! but “they” gave him a new light.
“Can’t you understand, Elinor,” he said, “that without doing anything
that can be built upon, a woman may set herself in a position of enmity to
the world, her hand against every one, and every one’s hand against her?”
“I know that well enough—generally because she does not comply with
every conventional rule, but does and thinks what commends itself to her; I
do that myself—so far as I can with mamma behind me.”
“You! the question has nothing to do with you.”
“Why not with me as much as with another of my family?” said Elinor,
throwing back her head.
He turned round upon her with something like a snort of indignation: she
to be compared—but Elinor met his eyes with scornful composure and
defiance, and John was obliged to calm himself. “There’s no analogy,” he
said; “Lady Mariamne is an old campaigner. She’s up to everything.
Besides, a sister-in-law—if it comes to that—is not a very near relation. No
one will judge you by her.” He would not be led into any discussion of the
other, whose name, alas! Elinor intended to bear.
“If it comes to that. Perhaps you think,” said Elinor, with a smile of fine
scorn, “that you will prevent it ever coming to that?”
“Oh, no,” he said, “I’m very humble; I don’t think much of my own
powers in that way: nothing that I can do will affect it, if Providence
doesn’t take it in hand.”
“You really think it’s a big enough thing to invoke Providence about?”
“If Providence looks after the sparrows as we are told,” said John, “it
certainly may be expected to step in to save a nice girl like you, Nelly, from
—from connections you’ll soon get to hate—and—and a shady man!”
She turned upon him with sparkling eyes in a sudden blaze of
indignation. “How dare you! how dare you!”
“I dare a great deal more than that to save you. You must hear me, Nelly:
they’re all badly spoken of, not one, but all. They are a shady lot—excuse a
man’s way of talking. I don’t know what other words to use—partly from
misfortune, but more from—— Nelly, Nelly, how could you, a high-
minded, well-brought-up girl like you, tolerate that?”
She turned upon him again, breathing hard with restrained rage and
desperation; evidently she was at a loss for words to convey her indignant
wrath: and at last in sheer inability to express the vehemence of her feelings
she fastened on one word and repeated “well-brought-up!” in accents of
scorn.
“Yes,” said John, “my aunt and you may not always understand each
other, but she’s proved her case to every fair mind by yourself, Elinor. A girl
could not be better brought up than you’ve been: and you could not put up
with it, not unless you changed your nature as well as your name.”
“With what?” she said, “with what?” They had gone up and down the
sloping sides of the combe, through the rustling copse, sometimes where
there was a path, sometimes where there was none, treading over the big
bushes of ling and the bell-heather, all bursting into bloom, past groups of
primeval firs and seedling beeches, self-sown, over little hillocks and
hollows formed of rocks or big old roots of trees covered with the close
glittering green foliage and dark blue clusters of the dewberry, with the hum
of bees filling the air, the twittering of the birds, the sound of the church
bells—nothing more like the heart of summer, more peaceful, genial, happy
than that brooding calm of nature amid all the harmonious sounds, could be.
But as Elinor put this impatient question, her countenance all ablaze with
anger and vehemence and resolution, yet with a gleam of anxiety in the
puckers of her forehead and the eyes which shone from beneath them, they
stepped out upon the road by which other groups were passing, all bound
towards the centre of the church and its tinkling bells. Elinor stopped, and
drew a longer panting breath, and gave him a look of fierce reproach, as if
this too were his fault: and then she smoothed her ruffled plumes, after the
manner of women, and replied to the Sunday-morning salutations, with the
smiles and nods of use and wont. She knew everybody, both the rich and
the poor, or rather I should say the well-off and the less-well-off, for there
were neither rich nor poor, formally speaking, on Windyhill. John did not
find it so easy to put his emotions in his pocket. He cast an admiring glance
upon her as with heightened colour and a little panting of the breath, but no
other sign of disturbance, she made her inquiries after this one’s mother and
that one’s child. It was wonderful to him to see how the storm was got
under in a moment. An occasional glance aside at himself from the corner
of her eye, a sort of dart of defiance as if to bid him remember that she was
not done with him, was shot at John from time to time over the heads of the
innocent country people in whom she pretended to be so much interested.
Pretended!—was it pretence, or was the one as real as the other? He heard
her promising to come to-morrow to see an invalid, to send certain articles
as soon as she got home, to look up certain books. Would she do so? or was
all this a mere veil to cover the other which engaged all her soul?
And then there came the service—that soothing routine of familiar
prayers, which the lips of men and women absorbed in the violence and
urgency of life murmur over almost without knowing, with now and then an
awakening to something that touches their own aspirations, to something
that offers or that asks for help. “Because there is none other that fighteth
for us but only Thou, O God.” That seems to the careless soul such a non
sequitur, as if peace was asked for, only because there was none other to
fight; but to the man heavily laden, what a cry out of the depths! Because
there is none other—all resources gone, all possibilities: but one that
fighteth for us, standing fast, always the champion of the perplexed, the
overborne, the weak. John was a little careless in this respect, as so many
young men are. He thought most of the music when he joined the
fashionable throng in the Temple Church. But there was no music to speak
of at Windyhill. There was more sound of the bees outside, and the birds
and the sighing bass of the fir-trees than of anything more carefully
concerted. The organ was played with a curious drone in it, almost like that
of the primitive bagpipe. But there was that one phrase, a strong strain of
human appeal, enough to lift the world, nay, to let itself go straight to the
blue heavens: “Because there is none other that fighteth for us but only
Thou, O God.”
Mr. Hudson preached his little sermon like a discord in the midst. What
should he have preached it for, that little sermon, which was only composed
because he could not help himself, which was about nothing in heaven or
earth? John gave it a sort of partial attention because he could not help it,
partly in wonder to think how a sensible man like Mr. Hudson could
account to himself for such strange little interruption of the natural
sequence of high human emotion. What theory had he in his mind? This
was a question John was fond of putting to himself, with perhaps an idea
peculiar to a lawyer, that every man must be thinking what he is about, and
be able to produce a clear reason, and, as it were, some theory of the
meaning of his own actions—which everybody must know is nonsense. For
the Rector of course preached just because it was in his day’s work, and the
people would have been much surprised, though possibly much relieved,
had he not done so—feeling that to listen was in the day’s work too, and to
be gone through doggedly as a duty. John thought how much better it would
be to have some man who could preach now and then when he had
something to say, instead of troubling the Rector, who, good man, had
nothing. But it is not to be supposed that he was thinking this consecutively
while the morning went on. It flitted through his mind from time to time
among his many thinkings about the Compton family and Elinor; poor
Nelly, standing upon the edge of that precipice and the helplessness of
every one to save her, and the great refrain like the peal of an organ going
through everything, “None other that fighteth for us but only Thou, O God.”
Surely, surely to prevent this sacrifice He would interfere.
She turned to him the moment they were out of the church doors with
that same look of eager defiance yet demand, and as soon as they left the
road, the first step into the copse, putting out her hand to call his attention:
“You said I could not put up with it, a girl so well-brought-up as I am. What
is it a well-brought-up girl can’t put up with? A disorderly house, late hours,
and so forth, hateful to the well-brought-up? What is it, what is it, John?”
“Have you been thinking of that all through the morning prayers?” he
said.
“Yes, I have been thinking about it. What did you expect me to think
about? Is there anything else so important? Mr. Hudson’s sermon, perhaps,
which I have heard before, which I suppose you listened to,” she said, with
a troubled laugh.
“I did a little, wondering how a good man like that could go on doing it;
and there were other things——” John did not like to say what it was which
was still throbbing through the air to him, and through his own being.
“Nothing that is of so much moment to me: come back, John, to the
well-brought-up girl.”
“You think that’s a poor sort of description, Elinor; so it is. You are of
course a great deal more than that. Still it’s what one can turn to most easily.
You don’t know what life is in a sort of fast house, where there is nothing
thought of but amusement or where it’s a constant round of race meetings,
yachting, steeplechases—I don’t know if men still ride steeplechases—I
mean that sort of thing: Monte Carlo in the winter: betting all the year
round—if not on one thing then on another, expedients to raise money, for
money’s always wanted. You don’t know—how can you know?—what goes
on in a fast life.”
“Don’t you see, John,” she cried, eagerly, “that all that, if put in a
different way not to their prejudice, if put in the right way would sound
delightful? There is no harm in these things at all. Betting’s not a sin in the
Bible any more than races are. Don’t you see it’s only the abuse of them
that’s wrong? One might ruin one’s health, I believe, with tea, which is the
most righteous thing! I should like above all things a yacht, say in the
Mediterranean, and to go to Monte Carlo, which is a beautiful place, and
where there is the best music in the world, besides the gambling. I should
like even to see the gambling once in a way, for the fun of the thing. You
don’t frighten me at all. I have been a fortnight at Lady Mariamne’s, and the
continual ‘go’ was delightful, there was never a dull moment. As for
expedients to raise money, there——”
“To be sure—old Prestwich is as rich as Crœsus—or was,” said John,
with significance, “but you are not going to live with Lady Mariamne, I
suppose.”
“Oh, John!” she cried, “oh, John!” suddenly seizing him by the arm,
clasping her hands on it in the pretty way of earnestness she had, though
one hand held her parasol, which was inconvenient. The soft face was
suffused with rosy colour, so different from the angry red, the flush of love
and tenderness—her eyes swam in liquid light, looking up with mingled
happiness and entreaty to John’s face. “Fancy what he says, that he will not
object to come here for half the year to let me be with my mother!
Remember what he is, a man of fashion, and fond of the world, and of
going out and all that. He has consented to come, nay, he almost offered to
come for six months in the year to be with mamma.”
“Good heavens,” cried John to himself, “he must indeed be down on his
luck!” but what he said was, “Does your mother know of this, Elinor?”
“I have not told her yet. I have reserved it to hear first what you had to
say: and so far as I can make out you have nothing at all to say, only general
things, disapproval in the general. What should you say if I told you that he
disapproves too? He said himself that there had been too much of all that—
that he had backed something—isn’t that what you say?—backed it at odds,
and stood to win what he calls a pot of money. But after that was decided—
for he said he could not be off bets that were made—never any more. Now
that I know you have nothing more to say my heart is free, and I can tell
you. He has never really liked that sort of life, but was led into it when he
was very young. And now as soon as—we are together, you know”—she
looked so bright, so sweet in the happiness of her love, that John could have
flung her from his arms, and felt that she insulted him by that clinging hold
—“he means to turn entirely to serious things, and to go into politics, John.”
“Oh, he is going into politics!”
“Of course, on the people’s side—to do everything for them—Home
Rule, and all that is best: to see that they are heard in Parliament, and have
their wants attended to, instead of jobs and corruption everywhere. So you
will see, John, that if he has been fast, and gone a little too far, and been
very much mixed up in the Turf, and all that, it was only in the exuberance
of youth, liking the fun of it, as I feel I should myself. But that now, now all
that is to be changed when he steps into settled, responsible life. I should
not have told you if you had repeated the lies that people say. But as you did
not, but only found fault with him for being fast——”
“Then you have heard—what people say?” He shifted his arm a little, so
that she instinctively perceived that the affectionate clasp of her hands was
no longer agreeable to him, and his face seemed suddenly to have become a
blank page, absolutely devoid of all expression. He kicked vigorously at
one of the hillocks he had stumbled against, as if he thought he could
dislodge it and get it out of his way.
“Mariamne told me there was a lot of lies—that people said—I am so
glad, John, oh! so thankful, that you have not repeated any of them; for now
I can feel you are my own good John, as you always were, not a slanderer
of any one, and we can go on being fond of each other like brother and
sister. I have told him you have been the best of brothers to me.”
“Oh,” said John, without a sign of wonder or admiration in him, with a
dead blank in his face.
“And what do you think he said? ‘Then I know he must be a capital
fellow, Ne——’ ”
“Not Nelly,” said poor John, with a foolish pang that seemed to rend his
heart. Oh, if that scamp, that cheat, that low betting, card-playing rascal
were but here! he would capital-fellow him. To take not herself only, but the
dear pet name that she had said was only John’s——
“He says Nell sometimes, John. Oh, not Nelly—Nelly is for you only. I
would never let him call me that. But they are all for short names, one
syllable—he is Phil, and Mariamne, well at home they call her Jew—
horrible, isn’t it?—because she was called after some Jewess; but somehow
it seems queer when you see her, so fair and frizzy, like anything but a
Jew.”
“So I have got one letter to myself,” said John. “I don’t know that I think
that worth very much, however. And so far as I can see, you seem to think
everything very fine—the bets, perhaps, and the rows and all.”
“Well they are, you know,” said Elinor, with a laugh, “to a little country
mouse like me that has never seen anything. There is always something
going on, and their slang way of speaking is certainly very amusing if it is
not at all dignified, and they have such droll ways of looking at things. All
so entirely different! Don’t you know, John, sometimes in one’s life one
longs for something to be quite different. A complete change, anything
new.”
“If that is what you long for, no doubt you will get it, Elinor.”
“Well!” she cried, “I have had the other for three-and-twenty years, long
enough to have exhausted it, don’t you think? but I don’t mean to throw it
over, oh, no! Coming back to mamma makes the arrangement perfect.
Probably in the end it is the old life, the life I was brought up in that I shall
like best in the long run. That is one thing of being well brought up. Phil
will laugh till he cries when I tell him of your description of me as a well-
brought-up girl.”
John set his teeth as he walked or rather stumbled along by her side,
catching in the roots of the trees as he had never done before, and swearing
under his breath. Her flutter of talk running on, delighted, full of laughter
and softness, as if he had fully declared his satisfaction and was interested
in every detail, kept John in a state of suppressed fury which made his
countenance dark, and almost took the sight from his eyes. He did not know
how to escape from that false position, nor did she give him time, she had
so much to say. Mrs. Dennistoun looked anxiously at the pair as they came
up through the copse to the level of the cottage. There were no enclosures in
that primitive place. From the copse you came straight into the garden with
its banks of flowers. She was seated near the cottage door in a corner
sheltered from the sun, with a number of books about her. But I don’t think
she had read anything except some portions of the lessons in the morning
service. She had been sitting with her eyes vaguely fixed upon the horizon
and her hands clasped in her lap, and a heavy shadow like an overhanging
cloud upon her mind. But when she heard Elinor’s voice approaching so
gay and tuneful her heart rose a little. John evidently could have had
nothing very bad to say. Elinor had been satisfied with the morning. Mrs.
Dennistoun had expected to see them come back estranged and silent. The
conclusion she drew was entirely satisfactory. After all John must have been
moved solely by general disapproval, which is so very different from the
dreadful hints and warnings that might mean any criminality. Elinor was
talking to him as freely as she had done before this spectre rose. It must,
Mrs. Dennistoun concluded, be all right.
It was not till he was going away that she had an opportunity of talking
with him alone. Her satisfaction, it must be allowed, had been a little
subdued by John’s demeanour during the afternoon and evening. But Mrs.
Dennistoun had said to herself that there might be other ways of accounting
for this. She had long had a fancy that John was more interested in Elinor
than he had confessed himself to be. It had been her conviction that as soon
as he felt it warrantable, as soon as he was sufficiently well-established, and
his practice secured, he would probably declare himself, with, she feared,
no particular issue so far as Elinor was concerned. And perhaps he was
disappointed, poor fellow, which was a very natural explanation of his glum
looks. But at breakfast on Monday Elinor announced her intention of
driving her cousin to the station, and went out to see that the pony was
harnessed, an operation which took some time, for the pony was out in the
field and had to be caught, and the man of all work, who had a hundred
affairs to look after, had to be caught too to perform this duty; which
sometimes, however, Elinor performed herself, but always with some
expenditure of time. Mrs. Dennistoun seized the opportunity, plunging at
once into the all-important subject.
“You seemed to get on all right together yesterday, John, so I suppose
you found that after all there was not very much to say.”
“I was not allowed to say—— anything. You mean——”
“Oh, John, John, do you mean to tell me after all——”
“Aunt Ellen,” he said, “stop it if you can; if there is any means in the
world by which you can stop it, do so. I can’t bring accusations against the
man, for I couldn’t prove them. I only know what everybody knows. He is
not a man fit for Elinor to marry. He is not fit to touch the tie of her shoe.”
“Oh, don’t trouble me with your superlatives, John. Elinor is a good girl
and a clever girl, but not a lady of romance. Is there anything really against
him? Tell me, for goodness’ sake! Even with these few words you have
made me very unhappy,” Mrs. Dennistoun said, in a half resentful tone.
“I can’t help it,” said the unfortunate man, “I can’t bring accusations, as I
tell you. He is simply a scamp—that is all I know.”
“A scamp!” said Mrs. Dennistoun, with a look of alarm. “But then that is
a word that has so many meanings. A scamp may be only a careless fellow,
nice in his way. That is not enough to break off a marriage for. And, John,
as you have said so much, you must say more.”
“I have no more to say, that’s all I know. Inquire what the Hudsons have
heard. Stop it if you can.”
“Oh, dear, dear, here is Elinor back already,” Mrs. Dennistoun said.
CHAPTER V.
The next time that John’s presence was required at the cottage was for the
signing of the very simple settlements; which, as there was nothing or next
to nothing in the power of the man to settle upon his wife, were easy
enough. He met Mr. Lynch, who was Mrs. Dennistoun’s “man of business,”
and a sharp London solicitor, who was for the husband. Elinor’s fortune
was five thousand pounds, no more, not counting her expectations from
him, which were left out of the question. It was a very small matter
altogether, and one which the smart solicitor who was in Mr. Compton’s
interest spoke of with a certain contempt, as who should say he was not in
the habit of being disturbed and brought to the country for any such trifle. It
was now August—not a time when any man was supposed to be available
for matters like these. Mr. Lynch was just about starting for his annual
holiday, but came, at no small personal inconvenience, to do his duty by the
poor girl whom he had known all his life. John and he travelled to the
cottage together, and their aspect was not cheerful. “Did you ever hear,”
said Mr. Lynch, “such a piece of folly as this—a man with no character at
all? This is what it is to leave a girl in the sole care of her mother. What
does a woman know about such things?”
“I don’t think it was her mother’s fault,” said John, anxious to do justice
all round. “Elinor is very head-strong, and when she has made up her mind
to a thing——”
“A bit of a girl!” said Mr. Lynch, contemptuously. He was an old
bachelor and knew nothing about the subject, as the reader will perceive.
“Her mother ought never to have permitted it for a moment. She should
have put down her foot: and then Miss Elinor would soon have come to
reason. What I wonder is the ruffian’s own motives? for it can’t be a little
bit of money like that. Five thousand’s a mere mouthful to such a man as he
is. He’ll get rid of it all in a week.”
“It must be tied up as tight as possible,” said John.
Here Mr. Lynch faltered a little. “She has got an idea into her head, with
the intention, I don’t doubt, of defrauding herself if she can. He has got
some investment for it, it appears. He is on the board of some company—a
pretty board to take in such a fellow? But the Honourable is always
something, I suppose.”
John did not say the dis-Honourable, though it trembled on the edge of
his tongue. “But you will not permit that?” he said.
“No, no; we will not permit it,” said Mr. Lynch, with an emphasis on the
negative which sounded like failing resolution.
“That would be giving the lamb to the wolf with a vengeance.”
“Exactly what I said; exactly what I said. I am very glad, Mr. Tatham,
that you take the same view.”
“There is but one view to be taken,” said John. “He must not have the
slightest power over her money. It must be tied up as tight as the law can do
it; not that I think it of the least consequence,” he added. “Of course, he will
get it all from her one way or another. Law’s but a poor barrier against a
determined man.”
“I’m glad you see that too,” said Mr. Lynch, “and you might say a
determined woman: for she has set her mind on this, and we’ll have a nice
business with her, I can see.”
“A bit of a girl!” said John, with a laugh, echoing the previous sentiment.
“That’s very true,” said the old lawyer; “and still I think her mother—but
I don’t put any great confidence in my own power to resist Elinor. Poor
little thing, I’ve known her since she was that high; indeed, I may say I
knew her before she was born. And you are a relation, Mr. Tatham?”
“Third or fourth cousin.”
“But still, more intimate than a person unconnected with them, and able
to speak your mind more freely. I wonder now that you never said anything.
But in family matters sometimes one is very reluctant to interfere.”
“I said everything I could say, not to offend them mortally; but I could
only tell them the common talk of society. I told my aunt he was a scamp
but after the first shock I am not sure that she thought that was any such bad
thing. It depended upon the sense you put upon the word, she said.”
“Oh, women, women!” said Mr. Lynch. “That’s their way—a reformed
rake makes the best husband. It’s an old-fashioned sentiment, but it’s in the
background of their minds, a sort of tradition that they can’t shake off—or
else the poor fellow has had so many disadvantages, and they think they can
make it all right. It’s partly ignorance and partly vanity. But they are all the
same, and their ways in the matter of marriage are not to be made out.”
“You have a great deal of experience.”
“Experience—oh, don’t speak of it!” said the old gentleman. “A man has
a certain idea of the value of money, however great a fool he may be, but
the women——”
“And yet they are said to stick to money, and to be respectful of it
beyond anything but a miser. I have myself remarked——”
“In small matters,” said Mr. Lynch, “in detail—sixpences to railway
porters and that sort of thing—so people say at least. But a sum of money
on paper has no effect on a woman, she will sign it away with a wave of her
hand. It doesn’t touch their imagination. Five pounds in her pocket is far
more than five thousand on paper, to Elinor, for instance. I wish,” cried the
old gentleman, with a little spitefulness, “that this Married Women’s
Property Bill would push on and get itself made law. It would save us a
great deal of trouble, and perhaps convince the world at the last how little
able they are to be trusted with property. A nice mess they will make of it,
and plenty of employment for young solicitors,” he said, rubbing his hands.
For this was before that important bill was passed, which has not had
(like so many other bills) the disastrous consequences which Mr. Lynch
foresaw.
They were met at the station by the pony carriage, and at the door by
Elinor herself, who came flying out to meet them. She seized Mr. Lynch by
both arms, for he was a little old man, and she was bigger than he was.
“Now you will remember what I said,” she cried in his ear, yet not so
low but that John heard it too.
“You are a little witch; you mustn’t insist upon anything so foolish.
Leave all that to me, my dear,” said Mr. Lynch. “What do you know about
business? You must leave it to me and the other gentleman, who I suppose
is here, or coming.”
“He is here, but I don’t care for him. I care only for you. There are such
advantages; and I do know a great deal about business; and,” she said, with
her mouth close to the old lawyer’s ear, “it will please Phil so much if I
show my confidence in him, and in the things with which he has to do.”
“It will not please him so much if the thing bursts, and you are left
without a penny, my dear.”
Elinor laughed. “I don’t suppose he will mind a bit: he cares nothing for
money. But I do,” she said. “You know you always say women love
acquisition. I want good interest, and of course with Phil on it, it must be
safe for me.”
“Oh, that makes it like the Bank of England, you think! but I don’t share
your confidence, my pretty Elinor. I’m an old fellow. No Phil in the world
has any charm for me. You must trust me to do what I feel is best for you.
And Mr. Tatham here is quite of my opinion.”
“Oh, John! he is sure to be against me,” said Elinor, with an angry
glimmer in her eyes. She had not as yet taken any notice of him while she
welcomed with such warmth his old companion. And John had stood by
offering no greeting, with his bag in his hand. But when she said this the
quick-feeling girl was seized with compunction. She turned from Mr. Lynch
and held out both her hands to her cousin. “John, I didn’t mean that; it is
only that I am excited and cross. And don’t, oh, don’t go against me,” she
cried.
“I never did, and never will, Elinor,” he said gravely. Then he asked,
after a moment, “Is Mr. Compton here?”
“No; how could he be here? Three gentlemen in the cottage is enough to
overwhelm us already. Mr. Sharp, fortunately, can’t stay,” she added,
lowering her voice; “he has to be driven back to the station to catch the last
express. And it is August,” she said with a laugh; “you forget the 15th. Now,
could Phil be anywhere but where there is grouse? You shall have some to
dinner to-night that fell by his gun. That should mollify you, for I am sure
you never got grouse at the cottage before in August. Mamma would as
soon think of buying manna for you to eat.”
“I think it would have been more respectful, Elinor, if he had been here.
What is grouse to you?”
“Then I don’t think anything of the kind,” cried Elinor. “He is much
better away. And I assure you, John, I never mean to put myself in
competition with the grouse.”
The old lawyer had gone into the drawing-room, where Mrs. Dennistoun
was holding parley with Mr. Sharp. Elinor and John were standing alone in
the half light of the summer evening, the sun down, the depths of the combe
below falling into faint mist, but the sunset-tinted clouds still floating like a
vapor made of roses upon the clearness of the blue above. “Come and take a
turn through the copse,” said John. “They don’t want either of us indoors.”
She went with a momentary reluctance and a glance back at the bow-
window of the drawing-room, from which the sound of voices issued.
“Don’t you think I should be there to keep them up to the mark?” she said,
half laughing. And then, “Well, yes—as you are going to Switzerland too. I
think you might have stayed and seen me married after all, and made
acquaintance with Phil.”
“I thought I should have met him here to-day, Elinor.”
“Now, how could you? You know the accommodation of the cottage just
as well as I do. We have two spare rooms, and no more.”
“You could have sent me out somewhere to sleep. That has been done
before now.”
“Oh, John, how persistent you are, and worrying! When I tell you that
Phil is shooting, as everybody of his kind is—do you think I want him to
give up all the habits of his life? He is not like us: we adapt ourselves: but
these people parcel out their time as if they were in a trade, don’t you
know? So long in London, so long abroad, and in the Highlands for the
grouse, and somewhere else for the partridges, or they would die.”
“I think he might have departed from that routine once in a way, Elinor,
for you.”
“I tell you again, John, I shall never put myself in competition”—Elinor
stopped abruptly, with perhaps, he thought, a little glimmer of indignation
in her eyes. “I hate women who do that sort of thing,” she cried. “ ‘Give up
your cigar—or me,’ as I’ve heard girls say. Such an unworthy thing! When
one accepts a man one accepts him as he stands, with all his habits. What
should I think of him if he said, ‘Give up your tea—or me!’ I should laugh
in his face and throw him overboard without a pause.”
“You would never look at tea again as long as you lived if he did not like
it; I suppose that is what you mean, Elinor?”
“Perhaps if I found that out, afterwards; but to be given the choice
beforehand, never! After all, you don’t half know me, John.”
“Perhaps not,” he said, gravely. They had left the garden behind in its
blaze of flowers, and strayed off into the subdued twilight of the copse,
where everything was in a half tone of greenness and shadow and waning
light. “There are always new lights arising on a many-sided creature like
you—and that makes one think. Do you know you are not at all the person
to take a great disappointment quietly, if that should happen to come to you
in your life?”
“A great disappointment?” she said, looking up at him with a wondering
glance. Then he thought the color paled a little in her face. “No,” she said,
“I don’t suppose I should take it quietly. Who does?”
“Oh, many people—people with less determination and more patience
than you. You are not very patient by nature, Elinor.”
“I never said I was.”
“And though no one would give up more generously, as a voluntary
matter, you could not bear being made a nonentity of, or put in a secondary
place.”
“I should not like it, I suppose.”
“You would give everything, flinging it away; but to have all your
sacrifices taken for granted, your tastes made of no account——”
There was no doubt now that she had grown pale. “May I ask what all
these investigations into my character mean? I never was so anatomized
before.”
“It was only to say that you are not a good subject for this kind of
experiment, Elinor. I don’t see you putting up with things, making the best
of everything, submitting to have your sense of right and wrong outraged
perhaps. Some women would not be much disturbed by that. They would
put off the responsibility and feel it their duty to accept whatever was put
before them. But you—it would be a different matter with you.”
“I should hope so, if I was ever exposed to such dangers. But now may I
know what you are driving at, John, for you have some meaning in what
you say!”
He took her hand and drew it through his arm. He was more moved than
he wished to show. “Only this, Elinor”—he said.
“Oh, John, will you never call me Nelly any more?”
“Only this, Nelly, my little Nelly, never mine again—and that never was
mine, except in my silly thought. Only this: that if you have the least doubt,
the smallest flutter of an uncertainty, just enough to make you hold your
breath for a moment, oh, my dear girl, stop! Don’t go on with it; pause until
you can make sure.”
“John!” she forced her arm from his with an indignant movement. “Oh,
how do you dare to say it?” she said. “Doubt of Mr. Compton! Uncertainty
about Phil!” She laughed out, and the echo seemed to ring into all the
recesses of the trees. “I would be much more ready to doubt myself,” she
said.
“Doubt yourself; that is what I mean. Think if you are not deceiving
yourself. I don’t think you are so very sure as you believe you are, Nelly.
You don’t feel so certain——”
“Do you know that you are insulting me, John? You say as much as that I
am a fool carried away by a momentary enthusiasm, with no real love, no
true feeling in me, tempted, perhaps, as Mrs. Hudson thinks, by the
Honourable!” Her lip quivered, and the fading colour came back in a rush
to her face. “It is hard enough to have a woman like that think it, who ought
to know better, who has always known me—but you, John!”
“You may be sure, Elinor, that I did not put it on that ground.”
“No, perhaps: but on ground not much more respectful to me—perhaps
that I have been fascinated by a handsome man, which is not considered
derogatory. Oh, John, a girl does not give herself away on an argument like
that. I may be hasty and self-willed and impatient, as you say; but when you
—love!” Her face flushed like a rose, so that even in the grey of the evening
it shone out like one of the clouds full of sunset that still lingered on the
sky. A few quick tears followed, the natural consequence of her emotion.
And then she turned to him with the ineffable condescension of one farther
advanced in life stooping sweetly to his ignorance. “You have not yet come
to the moment in your experience when you can understand that, dear
John.”
Oh, the insight and the ignorance, the knowledge and the absence of all
perception! He, too, laughed out, as she had done, with a sense of the
intolerable ridicule and folly and mistake. “Perhaps that’s how it is,” he
said.
Elinor looked at him gravely, in an elder-sisterly, profoundly-
investigating way, and then she took his arm quietly and turned towards
home. “I shall forget what you have said, and you will forget that you ever
said it; and now we will go home, John, and be just the same dear friends as
before.”
“Will you promise me,” he said, “that whatever happens, without pride,
or recollection of what I’ve been so foolish as to say, in any need or
emergency, or whenever you want anything, or if you should be in trouble
—trouble comes to everybody in this life—you will remember what you
have said just now, and send for your cousin John?”
Her whole face beamed out in one smile, she clasped her other hand
round his arm; “I should have done it without being asked, without ever
doubting for a moment, because it was the most natural thing in the world.
Whom should I turn to else if not to my dear old—— But call me Nelly,
John.”
“Dear little Nelly!” he said with faltering voice, “then that is a bargain.”
She held up her cheek to him, and he kissed it solemnly in the shadow of
the little young oak that fluttered its leaves wistfully in the breeze that was
getting up—and then very soberly, saying little, they walked back to the
cottage. He was going abroad for his vacation, not saying to himself even
that he preferred not to be present at the wedding, but resigning himself to
the necessity, for it was not to be till the middle of September, and it would
be breaking up his holiday had he to come back at that time. So this little
interview was a leave-taking as well as a solemn engagement for all the
risks and dangers of life. The pain in it, after that very sharp moment in the
copse, was softened down into a sadness not unsweet, as they came silently
together from out of the shadow into the quiet hemisphere of sky and space,
which was over the little centre of the cottage with its human glimmer of
fire and lights. The sky was unusually clear, and among those soft, rose-
tinted clouds of the sunset, which were no clouds at all, had risen a young
crescent of a moon, just about to disappear, too, in the short course of one
of her earliest nights. They lingered for a moment before they went indoors.
The depth of the combe was filled with the growing darkness, but the ridges
above were still light and softly edged with the silver of the moon, and the
distant road, like a long, white line, came conspicuously into sight, winding
for a little way along the hill-top unsheltered, before it plunged into the
shadow of the trees—the road that led into the world, by which they should
both depart presently to stray into such different ways.
CHAPTER VI.
The drawing-room after dinner always looked cheerful. Perhaps the fact
that it was a sort of little oasis in the desert, and that the light from those
windows shone into three counties, made the interior more cosy and bright.
(There are houses now upon every knoll, and the wind cannot blow on
Windyhill for the quantity of obstructions it meets with.) There was the
usual log burning on the hearth, and the party in general kept away from it,
for the night was warm. Only Mr. Sharp, the London lawyer, was equal to
bearing the heat. He stood with his back to it, and his long legs showing
against the glow behind, a sharp-nosed, long man in black, who had
immediately suggested Mephistopheles to Elinor, even though he was on
the Compton side. He had taken his coffee after dinner, and now he stood
over the fire slowly sipping a cup of tea. There was a look of
acquisitiveness about him which suggested an inclination to appropriate
anything from the unnecessary heat of the fire to the equally unnecessary
tea. But Mr. Sharp had been on the winning side. He had demonstrated the
superior sense of making the money—which was not large enough sum to
settle—of real use to the young pair by an investment which would increase
Mr. Compton’s importance in his company, besides producing very good
dividends—much better dividends than would be possible if it were treated
in the old-fashioned way by trustees. This was how the bride wished it,
which was the most telling of arguments: and surely, to insure good interest
and an increase of capital to her, through her husband’s hands, was better
than to secure some beggarly hundred and fifty pounds a year for her
portion, though without any risks at all.
Mr. Sharp had also taken great pains to point out that there were only
three brothers—one an invalid and the other two soldiers—between Mr.
Phil and the title, and that even to be the Honourable Mrs. Compton was
something for a young lady, who was, if he might venture to say so, nobody
—not to say a word against her charms. Lord St. Serf was hourly getting an
old man, and the chances that his client might step over a hecatomb of dead
relations to the height of fortune was a thing quite worth taking into
account. It was a much better argument, however, to return to the analogy
of other poor young people, where the bride’s little fortune would be put
into the husband’s business, and thus their joint advantage considered. Mr.
Sharp, at the same time, did not hesitate to express politely his opinion that
to call him down to the country for a discussion which could have been
carried on much better in one or other of their respective offices was a most
uncalled for proceeding, especially as even now the other side was
wavering, and would not consent to conclude matters, and make the
signatures that were necessary at once. Mr. Lynch, it must be allowed, was
of the same opinion too.
“Your country is a little bleak at night,” said Mr. Sharp, partially
mollified by a good dinner, but beginning to remember unpleasantly the
cold drive in a rattletrap of a little rustic pony carriage over the hills and
hollows. “Do you really remain here all the year? How wonderful? Not
even a glimpse of the world in summer, or a little escape from the chills in
winter? How brave of you! What patience and powers of endurance must be
cultivated in that way!”
“One would think Windyhill was Siberia at least,” said Mrs. Dennistoun,
laughing; “we do not give ourselves credit for all these fine qualities.”
“Some people are heroes—or heroines—without knowing it,” said Mr.
Sharp, with a bow.
“And yet,” said the mother, with a little indignation, “there was some
talk of Mr. Compton doing me the honour to share my hermitage for a part
of the year.”
“Mr. Compton! my dear lady! Mr. Compton would die of it in a week,”
said Mr. Sharp.
“I am quite well aware of it,” said Mrs. Dennistoun; and she added, after
a pause, “so should I.”
“What a change it will be for your daughter,” said Mr. Sharp. “She will
see everything that is worth seeing. More in a month than she would see
here in a dozen years. Trust Mr. Compton for knowing all that’s worth
going after. They have all an instinct for life that is quite remarkable.
There’s Lady Mariamne, who has society at her feet, and the old lord is a
most remarkable old gentleman. Your daughter, Mrs. Dennistoun, is a very
fortunate young lady. She has my best congratulations, I am sure.”
“Sharp,” said Mr. Lynch from the background, “you had better be
thinking of starting, if you want to catch that train.”
“I’ll see if the pony is there,” said John.
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