Chapter Two: Spring Strides

The Lee family had spent a week at the Somersets' home. Surprised by the many dialogues about art between his sister, Helena, and Basil, her friend, George, also observed the two people watching many greenfinches nearby. She would begin to sketch them in her notebook. 

Nearby, Agnes, far more shy than their peers, stood near the adults as Henry Lee discussed the war against France with Matthew and Elizabeth Somerset. Ordinarily, this latter conversation interested George, though he was now bothered that his sister could not think of anything else but Basil's charming dark hair and green eyes. 

No doubt, Basil Lee was a handsome young boy. He had the confidence of a grown man and yet the charm of an adolescent. He was as captured by Helena's beauty as she was captured by his wit. He knew all the birds and beasts on their land, could plainly explain everything there was to know about Greenfinches, and perhaps best of all, gave the most helpful suggestions to the girl as she attempted to improve her painting skills. At one point, he stood behind her and helped her draw on the standing board. She, meanwhile, stood within the reach of his arms so that he nearly held her as she pursued her drawing of the birds before her view. The moment was more romantic than many adults had ever felt toward one another. 

Upset, George wondered if his sister would ever return to running in the fields. She seemed so much more grown now, no less innocent, but more mature. To him, the arrival of one handsome boy in her life had been the most remarkable upset since the British loss at Yorktown to the Continental Army of George Washington. He was still hoping that she would forget the name of Basil in time, though she continued to mention his name on many recent occasions. 

However, once the Lee family left, George only hoped that his sister would return to normality. In light of their acting rehearsals for the people of the local community, he hoped that this would be the case. 

The family were dressed in their costumes. Joining each other, they acted parts in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Friends and family members from nearby were also present, as all enjoyed the play being performed. The play, of course, was acted in Chamberlain Estates, which was no globe theatre but remained the best place for such events in Shrewsbury. 

Afterward, the Sommorsets strolled outside their home. Heading into the deeper glades and greenwood, they enjoyed the early morning while conversing over Shakespeare's romantic comedy. 

The family was followed by their cousins and relatives. They all headed over a dirt track into the hills above the estate. No one moved fast; rather, the exercise was permissive to their many dialogues. 

''Where are we going?'' one of the visitors asked. 

''Oh, only to the top of the hill, where the lands of the Somersets end,'' another person replied. 

''What a joyful day we have had,'' the father began while turning to his family, though mainly to Helena. 

''Indeed, father,'' Helena agreed while rushing to his leading presence. ''There is nothing I enjoy more than drama---''

He looked at her. She recognized his correction. ''Except our faith in Christ,'' she added. 

Smiling, he conceded as she continued. ''Shakespeare was a brilliant man. These woods remind me of something from his beloved play. He knew the minds of people so well. Truly, I could watch A Midsummer Night's Dream forever, and I don't think it would ever get old.'' 

Matthew nodded. ''It is a wonderful play. I admire Shakespeare's mind. But it is not simply my admiration of him why we act it. You see, my dear, we read books not simply to credit the author but because we see ourselves and others from within the pages of literature. Literature is a testimony of our rights and wrongs, fears and regrets, ambitions and struggles. Perhaps most importantly, if analyzed properly, literature shows us what we should be.''

The girl did not understand all that her father said. He never spoke in riddles, but she was never quick to embrace a new thought without deep consideration. 

''Literature,'' he added, ''is a type of community. When we no longer have friends nearby, those we read about on the pages of old books can serve as friends when we need them.''

She simply looked down at the track before her while listening to him speak. 

He smiled at the earth surrounding their presence. ''The arts simply reflect the values of our society. My beloved child, nothing of my reputation is more essential to my personhood than in others knowing that I loved God and my family. All else will fade as quickly as the greenwood around us. There are many Springtimes in life, but there are also many autumns. We may strive for many life goals, but leaving behind stability for the generations who follow us, unfortunately, is forgotten by many. My child, always live your life in Springtime and remember that your choices affect many others.'' 

Helena realized that her father cared deeply about the welfare of her and her siblings. She beheld his hand. Facing her, she knew he would always value this moment with her. 

''The world changes more quickly than we expect, Helena,'' he affirmed sadly. ''It has many sad and happy moments. We should never take advantage of joy, for not all days are as joyful as others. Life has many songs, yet not all are blessed. I am grateful for today, for today, as God gives me breath, I can enjoy the presence of my beloved family.'' 

She looked at her father. Leaning on him, she knew of everyone; it was him that she would choose to marry above all else. He had long cared for and defended her heart more than his own. She was his treasure. 

Later, the stroll ended. Now, the girl sat down by one of the trees. The greenfinches returned in front of her presence. Applying watercolor, she began to color a picture of one of the smallest creatures. Marveling at the work, her father was always gleeful to see her interest. 

The last greenfinch flew from its nest. Suddenly, more of the early sunlight reached the green branches. As the company of strollers made it to the top of the hill, George noticed a rich house on the other side. 

''Father, who are they?'' George asked. 

Matthew nodded. ''That is the home of Egbert Devonsham,'' he returned. ''He has relatives in Bath. That is where most of the family resides. Egbert is old, however, and is rarely seen anymore. Occasionally, he has family from Bath come to see him still.'' 

Nodding, George saw two children travel far from the perimeter of the distant house. One was a boy, who he expected to be similar in age to him. The other person was a fully golden-haired girl who looked like his sister.

Following the conversation between George and his father, others began to observe the animals in the greenwood. Classy and motherlike, Elizabeth stayed near her children while ensuring their safety. 

George rose to a group of rocks over the hill. Wishing to impress his friends, he ignored his mother's cries that he stoop down, which, in turn, also alarmed his father. One of the boulders gave in, and he fell down the hill before his figure somehow survived the rushing stream below. 

''Are you alright?''

George felt dizzy. His head was still hurting. Lifting, he observed the boy whom he had seen earlier. He was equally surprised to see him as if he were the boy helping him to his feet. 

''I'm Peter Devonsham. This is my sister Cassandra. You should watch yourself. It takes a bright mind not to do these sorts of things.'' 

Helena heard the dialogue. As others strolled down the hill to where her brother was, she felt concerned over George's welfare, having called for him over the last several minutes. Now, though, she watched Peter Devonsham as he approached her. 

''Greetings,'' Peter smiled. ''This is a nice wood to enjoy, isn't it? My uncle lives here, and I can do whatever I want on my land.''

Helena remained open to discussion but felt reserved of his arrogance. ''Indeed,'' she returned. ''Though the surveyors have already judged our lands to divide at the stream below.''

Peter smiled. He liked her presence but dismissed her disapproval of his claim. Before he could respond, the girl beside him introduced herself to Helena. 

''I hope your brother is well soon,'' Cassandra began, while others noticed Mr. Somerset lifting George into his arms. ''He seems to have broken an arm. I hope that he recovers immediately.'' 

Helena remained cautious of Peter but found Cassandra far more likable. Within several minutes, the two females were discussing not only George's arm but also the presence of the greenwood. Watching them, Peter became envious that he was not older and wished to behold Helena in his arms. 

Helena remained by the great oaks. Sighing, she held her notebook while thinking of what was next to paint. Seeing her friend's artwork, Cassandra complimented the Somerset child. A new sisterhood had begun. 

Suddenly, though, Basil was approached by Frederick, the latter, hoping to intimidate the former away from Helena, which he was unable to do. Watching as she walked with Cassandra, Basil could hardly think of returning to London and being gone from her presence. 

George, however, soon recovered. In time, his fall was forgotten. Their days in Yorkshire, though, concerned many performances of Shakespeare's plays. The Somersets were happy. In ten years, the world had changed far more than they would have expected. Helena was no longer a young girl but a grown woman with a childlike heart. Angelic, she remained heavenly even as the darkness of war still spread across Europe. As her grown figure lifted from the tree behind her, she observed her brother quietly approach the woods while thinking to himself.