From tke Library of
ANNE RENIER
and
E G. RENIER
Manuscript, Archives,
and Rare Book Library
EMORY UNIVERSITY
VIRGINIA
THE
AMERICAN
BY
CHARLES /EDWARDES
LONDON
JOHN AND ROBERT MAXWELL
MILTON HOUSE, SHOE LANE, FLEET STREET
and
ST. BRIDE STREET, LUDGATE CIRCUS, E.G.
\_All rights reserved"|
MISS M. C. HAY'S NOVELS.
Picture Covers, 2s.; Cloth gilt, 2s. 6d.
1. OLD MYDDELTON'S MONEY.
2. HIDDEN PERILS.
3. VICTOR AND VANQUISHED.
4. THE ARUNDEL MOTTO.
5. THE SQUIRE'S LEGACY.
6. NORA'S LOVE TEST.
1. FOR HER DEAR SAKE.
8. BRENDA YORKE.
9. DOROTHY'S VENTURE.
10. MISSING.
11. UNDER THE WILL.
12. BID ME DISCOURSE.
LONDON: J. AND R. MAXWELL.
Milton House, Shoe Lane, Fleet Street.
And at all Booksellers and Bookstalls.
CONTENTS
——
CHAP. PAGE
I.—"Once upon a Time—Hey DididdleI" ... ... 5
II.—" Life lies before us like a Quarry—to Live we
must Work" 13
III.—" A Beautiful Young Man " ... ... ... 18
IV.—" Speech is often only Silver-plated " 22
V.—" Pity the Trials of a Poor Old Maid "... ... 23
VI.—"'Tis odd that Men should Differ as they do" 34
VII.—" I Will—I Won't !" 41
VIII.—"The Beings of the Mind are not of Clay" ... 49
IX.—"Oh ! these dull, rainy Afternoons " .. ... 62
X.—" What would'st not be," etc. ... ... ... 72
XI.—" Family Graces stripped bare "... ... ... 81
XII.—" What Tales," etc. 90
XIII.—" I'll turn Teacher, and be a Scholar again "... 105
XIV.—" In a Grove most rich of Shade " 117
XV.—"Who would be Young again ? " etc. ... ... 127
XVI.—" Oh, my Ancestral Halls ! my Income !" ... 138
XVII.—"There's no harm in Thinking of a Man, is
there?" ... ... ... ... ... 157
XVIII.—"Look, my Lord, it Comes ! " ... ... ... 164
XIX.—" Who Trusts his Byes will never Rise " ... 175
XX.—"One is not Always Seen to Advantage" ... 183
XXI.—" What! not take your Purse to Church ? " ... 194
XXII.—"Many things are learnt in Schools'' 204
iv
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAtiE
XXIII.—" His Conversation is a Perpetual Libel," etc. 210
XXIV.—"Words are Snares" ... 221
XXV.—" Uprise, and taste the Dewy Morn " ... 232
XXVI.—" What's in a Name ? " ... 241
XXVII.—" A little Dog is a great Evil" 252
XXVIII.—"Tea-cup Storms and Calms " ... ... 262
XXIX.—" Come, let us take our fill of Love " ... 284
XXX.—"FaireEyes, Sweet Lips, Deare Heart" ... 289
XXXI.—"Try, try, try Again " ... ... ... 298
XXXII.—" My Passion is thy Scorn " ... ... ... 306
XXXIII.—'"One of Courage," etc 318
XXXIV.—" Now in the Sky," etc 328
XXXV.—" Der Jiingling Begeistert," etc. ... ... 335
XXXVI.—" Every Day must have its End" ... ... 345
XXXVII.—" Wind up the Clock, Child " 349
XXXVIII.—" Domum, Domum, Dulce Domum " ... 355
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
CHAPTER I.
"once upon a time—hey dididdle ! "
A few years ago, in a quiet country town of the
Midlands,.there dwelt two sisters, named respectively
Constance and Mary Lydham. They had lived in
Borton, this quiet Midland town, ever since the
death of their mother; and their mother had been
dead about three years when our story begins. Their
father had died a year or so before their mother, and
as neither of their parents left any money, Constance
and Mary were, so to speak, thrown upon the world
and their own resources from the moment when they
became orphans.
Mr. Lydham, the father of these ladies, had not
been a successful man, as the world understands the
word success. Nay, we may go further and say that
he was a man undeserving of such success. During
his lifetime he had prided himself on his blood. In
the fourteenth or fifteenth century a,d„ a certain
G VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
Lydham was said to liave had the prefix " Sir " to his
name; therefore, Mr. Lydham of the nineteenth
century was of noble blood. And, being of noble
blood, it did not behove him to work as plebeians
work for their daily bread, and to lay up that com-
petence for the time of old age and the good of their
offspring, which is the honourable aim of all honour-
able men.
What station in life Mr. Lydham's father filled
we do not know. But that he was a more honour-
able man in one respect than his son, the father of
Constance and Mary, must be admitted, inasmuch as
he left to his son—an only child—enough money to
keep him meagrely in idleness if, by the ordering of
Providence, he should be incapacitated from taking
part in that struggle of life which is so invigorating
a prospect (and reality) to the strong man, but so
forlorn a look-out to the weakling, whether his
feebleness be of body or of mind. Moreover, he gave
his son as good an education as could be had for a
thousand pounds.
A thousand pounds is a considerable sum of
money, and fathers should reflect before sinking so
much in the very often bankrupt concern of filial
intellect. Mr. Lydham pkre did, as a matter of
fact, reflect deeply, and he determined that his boy
should have that very fair start in life which is the
desideratum of every true and wise father for his son.
Lydham fits imbibed much learning at first-rate
schools, and at Trinity College, Cambridge, and when
he left the University in his twenty-third year, he could
show to his adoring father a brace of huge biceps, a
countenance of remarkable candour, and a scholastic
"once upon a time—key kididkle !" 7
"testamur" which, though no advertisement of genius,
might have been regarded as satisfactory receipt for
a thousand pounds.
But in the flush of his paternal contentment
Lydham pere died. And" as a consequence, Lydham
Jils, who had lost his mother several years previously,
found himself alone in the world, with his wits, and
something like a hundred a year wherewith to oil
his wits, or help them to rust, as might he. But to
him a hundred a year did not seem as the wealth of
Croesus. It was little rather than much, and had he
cared to go into the arithmetic of the matter, he
might have ascertained approximately for how manv
days in the year it would keep him in board and
lodging. That the number would not have reached
three figures he was very sure. In which case he
had to face the fact that he was, after all, practically
dependent on—somebody or something : person or
thing unknown, though no doubt one or both would
soon turn up.
Mr. Lydham was not altogether friendless, though
an orphan, and he had sundry offers of employment
within a month or two of his bereavement. But
there was an objection to each and all of these offers,
and he let the opportunities go by. He waited a
year, overdrew his account for two years' income
prospectively, and would have continued and
enlarged the overdraft if the bank manager had not
objected.
Mr. Lydham then found that he had five pounds
in his pocket to last him for two years.
Ten months ago his friends had come to him ; it
was now time for him to go to his friends, and say
8
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
that he was very willing to do anything he could to
earn his bread and cheese.
But Mr. Lydham here learnt the difference
between seeking and being sought by an oppor-
tunity. Friends now shook their heads and said
" Too late ! " Acquaintances smiled benignly, and
enquired as to his name ; and the world as a whole
wagged on, perfectly indifferent to poor Lydham's
mental torture, which was tolerably keen for a man
of his education and sensibility.
At length he obtained a clerkship in the very bank
whose manager had looked askance at his ante-dated
cheques ; and once here, he was able to shake himself
together and take the bearings of his future, which
future was very far from being rose-coloured. What!
he, a man of education, refined tastes and manners,
to pass his best days as a companion of figures, and a
shoveller of gold that did not belong to him ! Verily
it seemed a hard lot, more fit for such a miscreant as
Tantalus than for him. But, hard or not, it was the
only opening he could see, and ultimately he
resigned himself to circumstances, and tried to
settle for life to an existence of routine and monthly
salary.
In time he began to stagnate. He was not so
valuable a bank officer that he was worthy of being
placed over others who were his seniors ; so that he
had no particular occasion for the use of any of those
higher faculties which had been exercised at college.
And, in the process of stagnation, he felt a strong
desire to hold himself up to the world (poor, foolish
man! his world was so very limited, had he but
known it !) as a man of good family, though, alas!
" ONCE UPON A TIME —HEY DIDIDDLE ! "
9
of reverses. He looked at his pedigree (the result of
some arduous tomb-rummaging two generations back),
and in Sir Somebody Lydham believed that be saw
the sheet-anchor of his reputation.
Meanwhile, he married a woman rich in domestic
virtue, though otherwise poor, and two children were
born to him. Then he made the discovery that he
could lay hands on the principal which gave him his
income of £100 ; and, having obtained this sum,
he unwisely, nay, unjustifiably, spent it in one way or
another (each way as unproductive as its fellow),
without heeding the daughters of his own body,
and their claims on him. Nor did he make atone-
ment for this by saving money yearly, or by insuring
his life : he would seem to have been divorced from
the control of conscience, or else well hardened
against its upbraidings. And when his daughters
were grown women, he died, leaving them—in the
language of orphan-asylum directories—" very in-
sufficiently provided for." He had striven to live up
to his blood of the past, and had ended by dying, and
leaving his blood of the present in want and distress.
Like many another foolish fellow of weak or per-
verted intellect, he had led himself to think there
is some merit or genuine satisfaction in being a
sprout of an old tree ; and had not chosen to see that
the world is more benefited by its young saplings
that have no past, but everything to hope in the
future, than by such liverless parasites of the dead
body of antiquity as himself.
Thus it happened that Constance and Mary Lyd-
ham were orphans, and orphaned deplorably.
The mother of these poor girls was not of suf-
10
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
ficiently vigorous mind to influence her husband
very greatly during his lifetime. Indeed, after a
year or two of ineffectual pining, and tearful con-
tiding to her pillow of her regrets for having married
the soft-mannered but dispiriting man who was her
husband, she had bowed her head to circumstance.
That it was not her duty to set herself above him
St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians told her plainly,
and she was very studious of her [Bible. Since he
was what he was, she must bend her back and
regard her life as one of those sacrifices on the altar
of the inevitable which must compensate some .one on
earth, if there be such a thing as terrestrial retribution,
and for which she would herself assuredly have full
recompense hereafter.
Between the time of her husband's and her own
death Mrs, Lydham was notable only for her sighing
propensities. You would have thought she had all
the sorrows and crimes of the universe upon her.
She sighed at everything, and in all seasons.
'"'A fine morning, mother," Constance would say.
" Ah ! (sigh). So it is, dear (sigh)."
"Would you like a rice pudding to-day, mother,
dear? " from Mary.
" Bice, love ? (sigh). Well, yes (sigh) ; it may as
well be rice as anything else."
" My dear Mrs. Lydham, such news for you !"-—
from a neighbouring lady gossip, of her own age,
but of much better position, socially, thanks to her
husband. " Such news, as I said. Matty Jones
has engaged herself (sigh from Mrs. Lydham), to
whom do you think ?—young Barlow (sigh from
Mrs. Lydham). Well, may they be happy, say I,"
"ONCE UPON A TIME—HEY DIDIDDLE ! " 11
(Double sigli from Mrs. Lydham, the second catching
at the first, as though dissatisfied with its want of body.)
" And, talking of marriage, Hepzibah Phipps has a
baby (compassionate sigh from Mrs. Lydham), still-
born though (sigh of mingled meaning)," &c._, &c.
Mrs. Lydham never reached her sixtieth year.
Sighs are not nutritive ; rather the contrary. And
it was found that, take as many tonics as she might,
she always managed to nullify their effects by con-
tinuing this terrible habit of hers. It was like filling
a barrel with a hole in the bottom. She sighed the
more, instead of the less, with each successive bottle
of physic, until at length nature, as if in disgust with
her for so prolonged a misusage of the gift of breath,
allowed her to sigh but once more—and in that final
sigh Mrs. Lydham rendered up her soul.
"Poor lady!" said the maidservant of the next
house to Martha, Mrs. Lydham's maidservant-?-
" Her's not had a very sugary time of it, judging
from hearsay."
" No," said Martha. " But there are folks as mis-
take lemons for oranges, short-sighted or not; and
whose fault but their own if tears come into their
eyes, hey?"
To which the other made no reply, but, glancing
timidly at the white-blinded window, she caught up
her apron to her eyes and turned away.
"An' that's the truth!" said Martha, in soliloquy.
Now, Martha was forty-eight years of age when her
mistress died ; and, as in the plain-spokenness of her
heart, she said of herself, " not the woman for a man
to bite twice at." She was of middle height; de-
cidedly stout, though not unwieldy; with a large
12
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
round face, ornamented like a trout with many spots
and ruddy as to her cheeks. Mentally, Martha would
have been quite out of the running at Girton. She
did not know Greek from Turkish; nor was her
English that of Addison or Johnson. But she had
abundance of good sense, and was not usually in
want of a word to express the ideas of her mind.
Had she married in the infancy of her twenties, by
this time she would, no doubt, have been the mother
of many : her spirit might have been humbled by
the exactions of children and the tyranny of a bus-
band, and her power of speech driven into the narrow
groove of bare household essentials. As it was, how-
ever, she was (needless to say) a virgin of strong
temper (not untinctured with generosity), and pos-
sessed of a vocabulary that was practically un-
limited ; for whenever her understanding halted, her
native wit came to the rescue.
Such was Martha Scrawcombe, general servant to
the Miss Lydhams.
CHAPTER II.
" life lies before us like a quarry—to live we
must work."
Constance and. Mary Lydham, when their mother
died, were aged twenty-five and twenty-four respec-
tively. Constance was dark, tall, rather impetuous,
and a trifle imperious. She was vigorous in health
and strength, of strong animal spirits, but withal of
a soul that yearned towards a "higher life," that is,
a life very much more spiritual than brutal. Mary
resembled her sister in few particulars, if any. Indeed,
as we portray her, she will seem even more nearly
the opposite of Constance than she really was. She
was rather below middle height, neither so strong
nor so healthy as her sister, and with light blue e}'es
instead of the dark brown eyes that were the distin-
guishing features of Constance's face. Many people
thought Constance beautiful; and there were not
wanting those who said that Mary was pretty.
Yet, as he reads this, we doubt not that the prac-
tical man—the man who judges of all things by the
balance they show one way or the other—will smile,
and say to himself, "' Beautiful and pretty then,
why unmarried at the mature age of twenty-eight
and twenty-seven respectively?"
Ah, our practical man! you would not be so quick
at a retort if you knew how delicate a thing for the
softer sex is matrimony in the contriving ; and how
14
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
almost impossible it is for girls of certain dispositions
to get husbands without the very skilful help of those
mammas who, from time immemorial (i.e., a century
and a half or so), have been held up to the scorn and
ridicule of mankind as "designing parents." " De-
signing," in truth, these parents may be, but all
honour to them in the appellation.
Believe us, for a young woman of few acquaint-
ances, modest manners, and a weak mamma, marriage
is but a possibility, and by 110 means a possibility in
the superlative degree. Young girls of refinement
do not throw themselves into the arms of any man
who happens to please them. It is only our un-
compromising Becky Sharps who have the impudence
to do this. And for these, confessedly, the world is
an excellent hunting ground. But, alas ! the former
are only too often left to grow stale, to bite their
fingers, and turn ritualist. And this, be it under-
stood, for no fault or failing of theirs, but simply
because they are the right-minded, self-respecting
girls they are, and motherless, either really or to all
intents and purposes.
Mrs. Lvdham, as we have said, was not an ener-
getic woman. It never entered her head, therefore,
that it was her duty, her positive duty, enjoined on
her by nature herself, to make acquaintance with a
view to the procuring of husbands for her daughters.
The burden of bare existence was already too heavy
upon her without this responsibility, which, in fact,
she never accepted as such. Her duty to the world
and her husband might, in one sense, have been
supposed to have ended when she had brought Mary
to the light of day. But she never seemed to think
"LIFE LIES BEFORE US LIKE A QUARRY." 15
that another duty was upon her, before the fulfilment
of which she could not conscientiously sing her
" Nunc Dimittis "—the duty of marrying her daugh-
ters : her duty, in short, to her daughters. She
sighed until she died ; and, meanwhile, her daughters
grew up, suffered all those afflictions of body and
mind which are a part of the maturing process of
womanhood, and reached the ages of twenty-seven
and twenty-eight as single as when they entered the
world.
Gleeful young outsiders, of their own sex, already
regarded the Miss Lydhams as a pair of old maids ;
and, looking in their glasses, thanked their stars that
they had no wrinkles beginning to cut their foreheads
in two, as Miss Constance Lydham had. And the
same u gleeful young outsiders," on certain occasions,
did not hesitate to bestow on the two sisters such pity
as is abundantly dispensed by the rich towards the
poor. Their importance was proven, as they leaned
upon the strong arm of a real mustachioed and whis-
kered man, listening to his loud guffaws at nothing,
and the sagest utterances of his whiskered mind ; and
thus buttressed, it were rank selfishness in the happy
to forget to compassionate the unfortunate.
But, lest we excite similar pity in the minds of our
readers, let us hasten to say that neither Constance
nor Mary Lydham valued such compassion one straw.
They were both good girls, and both wise girls too,
as girls go, and, moreover, they had both some sort of
consolation within them for all the apparent slights
of a neglectful society. Constance, indeed, even
from the point of view of these " gleeful young out-
siders," needed no pity ; for, as a matter of fact, she
16
VlBttlXlA, THE A31ERICAA'.
had some connection with a gentleman, who, in the
opinion of every member of No. 19, Heather Street,
Borton (the house of the Lydhams), was only waiting
for an opportunity to go on his knees and ask her to
be Mrs. Cathcart. And Mary had that great comfort
of the forlorn—a gentle and religious spirit, which
found in the service and teaching of the church
ample compensation for what seemed denied her in
this world. Nor was it a matter for but slight
rejoicing to her that the gentleman she hoped one day
to own for a brother-in-law was himself a clergyman,
and therefore probably a new ingredient in the cup
of happiness which was being mixed for her quaffing
in the future.
And how did these young Women live ?
They lived like Socrates and thousands of their
kind—by helping others to live. In other words,
they were governesses, and together they kept a
school. Pitiful occupation for a spirited young
woman ; depressing employment for a woman dis-
posed by nature to yield to storms rather than
combat them. Ay, truly ; but it could not be helped.
And do not expend your pity 011 them without full
reflection on the condition of their life. They had
not been educated to the point of morbid analysis ;
they had not had time to spend in contrasting the
actual with that present which would have fitted
adequately with their aspirations. Their father had
given them a good education—languages, music, and
so forth ; and their abilities were beyond the average.
That same father had forgotten to care for them, in
the event of his death occurring as it did, almost
without warning. What, therefore, more natural
"LIFE LIES BEFORE US LIKE A QUARltl\" 17
than that they should turn their talents to account,
and, by keeping themselves and their mother, prove
that they were sensible of what their father had done
for them ? Surely, a highly creditable and healthy
way of regarding the difficulty, and, thank Heaven,
a natural one besides.
So, as we have said, they opened a school, and the
school had succeeded so well, that they were able to
make the few years of life remaining to their mother
as comfortable, materially, as if their father had
lived ; and now that their mother was dead, they had
even more time and energy to devote to their profes-
sion and the successful practice of it. Thus, their
maidenhood apart, Constance and Mary Lydham
were subjects for emulation rather than compassion.
CHAPTEE III.
"a beautiful young man."
Mr. Cathcart, the junior curate of Borton, was
now about twenty-seven years of age. He was tall
and rather slim, clean shaven, jwith the hair of his
head generally a trifle longer than it need have been,
a fine straight nose, and a mouth eminently fitted to
do justice to the Psalms and lessons, the hymns, and
a sermon. His eyes were large, and, as one of the
members of the congregation said of them, " of a
swimming grey colour," by which the lady (for, of
course, it was a lady) meant that they were attrac-
tive, and unspoilt by overmuch reading. In truth,
they were wondrous eyes, with a habit of fastening
on this or that countenance with all the effrontery of
a sunflower. They did not inspire suspicion, and
consequent aversion, by suggesting that they could see
very deeply into the hearts and minds of others. Ho,
they lacked that most objectionable quality of
searchingness. Nor, on the other hand, were they
vacuous orbs, like the glass eyes of the quadrupeds
in the Kensington Museum. Had they been so, not
even a rich mellow voice and a priestly bearing
could have saved him from the stigma of stupidity.
In fact, they were placid eyes, fond of resting con-
fidingly on the eyes of. such persons as their owner
liked, and was sure of being liked by. It was not
an uncommon thing for Mr. Cathcart to seat himself
"A BEAUTIFUL YOUNd MAN."
19
in a drawing-room chair and look at his hostess, or
his hostess's daughter, until his gaze became, so to
speak, frozen. He would not say much, but his
unblenching regard seemed to be very expressive—
much more so than a torrent of words. He would
continue thus to look at his object as though he were
under a spell, until (after a lapse of time sometimes
brief, sometimes long) a quiver throughout his body
betokened that he was about to thaw. Then, with a
quick irradiating smile, and an "Oh, I beg your
pardon, Miss So-and-So, or Mrs. So-and-So, what
were you saying ? " he would reconcile his companion
to the strange sensations she had recently experienced
by behaviour that would have been charming in any
young man of his age, but in him, a young un-
married clergyman, was peculiarly winning.
Many and diverse were the comments made by
Mr. Cathcart's lady friends on this curious habit of
his—for in time it became acknowledged and con-
doned by them as a habit. Some attributed it to
thought. " He is so clever, you know. Not that he
says much to show it; but, you know, real clever
men keep all those kind of things to themselves.
Sounds greedy, does it not ? but perhaps it's as well."
Others said he had the making of a mystic in him ;
that he was a kind of orthodox Swedenburg, or
Jacob Bohme ; "for young men don't have those fits
of abstraction for nothing. Remember me, my dear,
when, in after years, Willie Cathcart has set England
on fire as a bishop." " No, dear," was said in reply
to this—" I don't think that, for the bishops couldn't
possibly set anything on fire except their palaces—
that is, if the men are to be believed. Personally, I
20
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
like a bishop very well, lawn sleeves are so becom-
ing." " Then he'll go to the colonies, and see visions,"
was the rejoinder.
Others, again, said that it was nothing but the
absence of mind preceding effort, common to many
men who are best worth knowing : " a sort of getting
up steam, you know. For haven't you noticed how
lively he is after his stare ? " Which was not alto-
gether a nice way of putting it, though the interpre-
tation was no doubt meant charitably.
Yet others said that Mr. Cathcart was pining for a
home—" a real home, not a nasty lodging " : that he
had had domestic disappointments, and that his mind
could not help recurring to the scenes of his earlier
life unless he was powerfully withdrawn from the
influence of these recollections ; and that the faces of
women, more especially young women, reminded him
of his sisters who .... well, something had happened
to them, though of course no one knew for certain what.
Many other reasons were given in excuse of this habit
of Mr. Cathcart's, and they were, in general, equally
kind and equally sensible.
As for the vicar, when appealed to for his opinion,
as he often was at first, he was cautious in his answers
to the general public. But to his wife, in the secrecy
of bedcurtains and gloom, he said ''that it did not
argue well in a young fellow of Cathcart's years to be
mooning among the ladies like a calf; and that it
was a pity he was not attached to a church in the
Seven Dials district of London, where there was
plenty of work and but little time for sentiment."
And, wishing to do his curate a service, he apportioned
him three-sevenths of the occasions for preaching
"A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG MAE."
21
which he anticipated during the year ; and gave up
to him the few parishioners whose visitation he had
hitherto reserved exclusively for himself. " I can do
no more for him, my dear," he said, as he rustled the
bedclothes—" a man must work out his own salva-
tion." "Yes," said the vicar's wife, "but he must
get on the right track first of all." " True," said the
vicar, " Good-night, love." And he soon gave the
note for the oratorio of the night.
Others, besides the vicar's wife, thought it would
be well for Mr. Cathcart and his future if he were
warned against this insidious habit of his; but,
though they expressed their opinions to their bosom
friends, they could not, without a breach of decency,
it seemed to them, explain the matter to Mr. Cathcart
himself. Supposing the peculiarity were constitu-
tional or hereditary, how awkward it would be. More-
over, that they did not do so is best explained by the
fact that, rightly or wrongly, we are wont to accept
blemishes of some kind in all who are known to us
more or less intimately as inevitable, and as testimony
of their common heritage with us in the imperfections
of humanhood. We feel more at home with the
manifestly imperfect than with the apparently
immaculate.
But we have dwelt too long on this peculiarity in
the Borton curate.
CHAPTER XV.
speech is often only silver-plated."
It was evening, and Constance and Mary Lydham
were sitting in tlieir little drawing-room. They had
emptied the house of school children two hours ago,
and the quiet after the exodus and racket of tongues
was always enjoyable. There was not much light in
the room, although it was late spring and barely
half-past seven, for they had drawn the curtains more
than half across the window. Miss Lydham liked
the dusk so well, that she often sacrificed some of the
later minutes of the day in the creation of a pre-
mature twilight.
The sisters were talking lazily about the trivial
events of the day—the progress or backwardness of
individual scholars, and their hopes or fears concern-
ing them. Mary talked most, but she seemed satisfied
with the monosyllables of her sister, whose eyes were
constantly drawn to the timepiece, as though, with
its ticking, it formed a third party in the conversation.
A ring at the door bell seemed to gratify her and her
sister equally, and a few seconds later, the curate
entered the room.
" Good evening," he said. " How are you both?"
And, having shaken hands impartially, he took a low
chair between the ladies v
"Very well, thank you," said Constance brightlv.
"And you?"
" SPEECH IS OFTEN ONLY SILVER-PLATED." 23
" Do I look ill ? " asked the curate, smiling, and
turning his face for inspection.
" Well—no ! I am glad to say you don't! " said
Miss Lydham, with a leisurely survey of his features.
Then, after a few commonplaces, the curate
narrated all the parochial news he could think of,
eliciting expressions of opinion and such ejaculatory
comments as are supposed to encourage those who
are kind enough to make conversation for the benefit
of their more reticent fellow-creatures. He told
them how sick Mrs. Dobbs had that morning
urgently sent for him, and he, on visiting her,
communion-plate in hand, had found that her greatest
need, spiritual and temporal, was the loan of half-a-
crown on her note of hand. He told them that
Rogers the carpenter was really on his death-bed,
and how edifying an exit from the world he was
likely to make. He told them how he wished Mrs.
Smith would not wear red ribbons in her best
Sunday bonnet—they were so distracting to him in
the pulpit; and how he hated to be nodded and
smiled at by Mr. Smith, as a mark of his approval,
when he was (he could not help saying it) unfor-
tunate enough to please that gentleman in his
sermon. He described a baptism he had conducted
that afternoon, when, by a slip of tongue, he had
christened a female baby as John instead of Jane,
and how one of the godparents asked him afterwards,
rather alarmedly, if the mistake would not illegitima-
tise the child. He said all he could to interest them
—even going so far as to whisper something about
the vicar and the vicar's wife, and then laugh loudly
when Miss Mary raised her eyebrows sceptically;
24
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
and to tell them his text for the next Sunday evening
sermon, challenging them to think out for themselves
as apposite a discourse as he would then give them.
If his aim was to put them on as good terms as
possible with themselves, and with himself, as no
doubt it was, he succeeded to perfection ; and when,
at half-past eight, he rose from his chair and said
something about the lateness of the hour, they
pressed him so warmly to stay and join them at
supper, that he yielded with a gentle well-simulated
sigh, and a complimentary murmur about silken
fetters. Mary Lydham then left the room to give
some directions to Martha.
After Mary's departure neither Miss Lydham nor
the curate spoke for about half a minute. Miss
Lydham looked at the fire intently, and Mr. Cathcart
was watching her, though she seemed unaware of it.
He broke the silence. " What is it, Constance ? "
'•'I am thinking of you," said she, bending
towards him. The gloom of the evening prevented
him from seeing her face.
" Thank you, I'm sure," said he.
" No ; I'm not sure that you would thank me."
" But it's about me, you say. Well—tell me your
thoughts."
" You will think me a busybody, Will."
" Nonsense ! Say anything you like about me ;
I won't be vexed. I have a clean conscience, and
don't care a rap for the world ! "
" You ought, then, Will, because the world is wise
in some things. Why do you let people talk of you
and the Widow Duncombe in the same breath ?
There! it's out!"
"SPEECH IS OFTEN ONLY SILVER-PLATED." 25
"Is that all? Mrs. Duncombe!—what is she to
me ? Good gracious ! Has the hundred-tongued
dragon been connecting our names together ? "
" Yes—and I don't like it! "
" But—poor woman ; what has she done that you
should think me degraded by talking to her, as you
seem to ? "
" Done, Will! Why, she is a designing woman.
She has had two husbands already, and can't be
much over twenty-nine. I can't trust her, for one.
And you know, dear—.— "
a Yes, Constance ? "
" Oh, I thought the door was opening. It was a
shadow from the street. You know I, more than
anyone, am jealous of your good name, Will, if
anything were to happen ! "
Miss Lydham stopped, and sighed heavily to give
emphasis to her words. The curate laughed.
" Bless you, Constance ! What a fanciful child
you are!"
" Ho, I'm not. But how I wish one could trust
everyone ; that truth were everywhere. I have had
ideals after ideals, Will, and they have all fallen—all
been broken to pieces."
" Oh, come ! But if this world were the Palace of
Truth, you know, your ideals would not have had a
chance from the beginning. It is something to have
got even a little comfort from them. I told old Mrs.
Trollope, who has lost her sense of smell, you know,
that it is not an unmixed evil. And so I tell you,
Constance, that you must not grumble because things
change their appearance as we change."
" But it isn't things that I mean. I mean men
26
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
and women. Oh, Will, supposing we were to change
in our opinion of each other ? "
" Suppose the cat could jump over the moon ! "
" If you did, Will, I believe I should go into a
lunatic asylum !"
; " Why a lunatic asylum ? Do you expect to find
your ideals better realised there ? " • - ■
Don't joke about it, please. I am dreadfully in
earnest. I can't sleep for thinking about it some-
times! "
" There's your fault, Constance. You shouldn't be
dreadfully in earnest about anything, except the
salvation of your soul, and the doing all you can for
your fellow men and women. It is intolerable self-
torture to be always hoping and fearing at full pitch.
Follow Mr. Warmington's good example in 1 letting
himself and things in general go their own way.'"
" I don't agree with Mr. Warmington, Will.
But I will be more quiet in future if I can. So
you don't fail me, I don't mind much else."
" Then sleep soundly, Miss Lydham," said the
curate. " If you do not intend going into Bedlam
until I have served as another ' awful example ' and
warning of and against I don't exactly know what,
by the by, I think you will never turn lunatic."
"Thank you, dear," said Miss Lydham, with
revived cheerfulness.
Shortly afterwards a handbell sounded from below,
and with a smiling announcement of " Supper," Miss
Lydham rose, passed her hand into the noose of the
curate's arm, and they went downstairs into the
dining-room.
If there was one meal more than another about
"speech is often only silver-plated." 27
the providing of which Martha took pride, it was
supper. She had been brought up to regard supper
as the meal of the day, she said ; and so long as she
had a finger in the management of her young
mistresses' affairs, it should be a credit to her. as its
cook, and to the Miss Lydhams as the owners of such
an excellent cook as herself. The Miss Lydhams
humoured her, as people do humour old servants ;
but they rarely allowed her to run to the full extent
of her wishes. A visitor, however, made a difference:
a visitor, therefore, was a joy to Martha. Looking at
the supper table this evening, you would have thought
the Lydhams were ladies of independent means, or
in receipt of a vefy large income from their school.
Miss Lydham took the head of the table, the
curate the foot, and the latter having said grace,
they sat down to enjoy Martha's hospitality. The
Lydhams abhorred gas over a dining table. A
doctor friend had once told them in fun that more
persons died annually from being poisoned by the
mixture of escaped gas with their food than of
broken hearts, and the ladies had reckoned the
mortality as something enormous. The table was
lighted by two candles in the middle and a shaded
candle to each individual. Gas is a staunch friend
to wrinkles, and all the various expressions which
hurry over a face that has any pretension to be
considered animated ; but candles, on the other
hand, are foes to the ambassadors which old age
? O
sends to abide with us pending the issue of his dread
ultimatum, and they may even succeed in trans-
figuring a frown into the semblance of a smile.
At ten o'clock Mr. Cathcart left the Lydhams.
CHAPTER, V.
" pity the trials of a poor old maid."
There were five letters laid on Miss Lydham's
plate the following morning, awaiting the time when
their owner should come downstairs. Though they
did not keep late hours in the evening, the sisters
seldom sat down to breakfast before half-past eight.
" The Lydham constitution requires a good deal of
sleep," said Martha, in extenuation of the nine and
a-half hours or so which her mistresses thus allowed
themselves.
Constance read three of the five letters, with only
an occasional comment, for the information of her
sister. Then, taking up the fourth, she laughed, and
said : " Prepare, Mary. Here's another from Aunt
Isabel. I wonder what has made her write again so
soon ! "
The letter was as follows :
" My dear niece Constance,
" Jointly with me, you will be very surprised—I
cannot doubt it—-to learn that our relatives of a
distant continent are now near at hand. The last
mail from America—that beneficent nation—brought
me the very astounding intelligence that your
Uncle Foster, and his son, your cousin, Samuel
Johnson Foster, and his daughter, Virginia Foster,
were even then on the ocean (/ /) which separates the old
"pity the trials of a poor old maid." 29
world from the new—the ocean made memorable by
the voyage of Columbus, heroic man—and that it
was hardly more than a question of hours (! !) before
they hoped to be pressing themselves to the bosom
of their dear old Aunt Isabel—(their words, my
dear).
" My dear Constance, you will of course maintain
the credit of your branch of the family by extending
the right arm of hospitality to these travel-stained
wayfarers from the West—the land where the sun
sets—always remembering that it was no fault in
your dear late aunt Charlotte to have married your
uncle (by marriage), thereby subjecting herself
(to use a figure of speech) to a banishment and
the rearing of her offspring in a distant land. I
need not exhort you and dear Mary to be as kind as
circumstances will permit to these your relatives, and,
if it seems requisite, to endeavour to give them that
confidence in themselves which, as foreigners, they
will probably be lacking in when they find how
they are surrounded by the mighty emblems of a
country notorious in history (!) which they may
well seek in vain to emulate.
" With my dearest love to you both, believe me,
" Your most affectionate
" Aunt Isabel.
" P.S.—I re-open in a casual moment of extreme
agitation (!!!) to say that the travellers have arrived.
Heaven support me! They talk of quitting the
vicinity of London for Borton this day week, in
reply to my eager enquiries—your cousin, Samuel
Johnson Foster, having expressed the greatest curio-
sity to see his lady cousins ! ! (his words, my dears).
30
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" PP.S.—I shall send you by passenger train (D.V.)
next Wednesday a large London pie, home-made,
and several et ceteras."
Miss Lydham read the letter, disregarding her
aunt's interjectional marks, and when she had finished
it, the sisters looked at each other, and burst out
laughing.
Aunt Isabel, be it known, was an old-fashioned
spinster, an elder sister of the late Mrs. Lydham.
She lived in a large solitary house in a London
suburb, usually receiving no visitors from year's end
to year's end, save her nieces, who generally contrived
to give her a week or two in August and December.
She was the nearest living relative, on their mother's
side, of the American cousins ; hence, these had not
scrupled to treat her without ceremony, taking her
by storm one hot afternoon in two cabs heaped high
with luggage.
Nothing but a sense of duty, that sheet-anchor of
the spinster heart, had withheld Aunt Isabel from
running away when she received this letter from
America. She had not gone more than two miles
from home for an incredible time ; but this missive
gave her new life, new strength, and a very keen
desire to see something of the world now that she was
so near seventy, and might not long be spared the
use of her legs. In fact, she would have fled
femininely but for the detaining spirit of family
honour, and the gnawing of the worm, conscience.
These counter influences were successful, however;
and, with a heavy, perturbed heart, she awaited what
luck in the way of relatives destiny might send her.
She was a very religious woman, and so was every
" PITY THE TRIALS OP A POOR OLD MAID." 31
other inmate of her house—(she kept three maid ser-
vants and a man; the man never to come nigh the
house after ten o'clock p.m.) ; and, whereas in such
perplexity and agony of anticipation some hardened
sinners would have rushed to the brandy bottle, Aunt
Isabel, quite as expeditiously, but more sensibly, had
recourse to her Bible. She read till her glasses seemed
covered with harvest mist, and so steeped her soul in
textual dissipation that, in a few hours' time, she had
an answering verse of Christian comfort for every
sneaking insinuation of fear and disquiet. Thus, and
by the aid of hourly interviews and consultations with
her cook and housekeeper, did Aunt Isabel pass the
twenty-four hours which elapsed between the receipt
of the letter and the arrival of the guests themselves.
How she welcomed the travellers, and gave them
of her best; how she bade them coax themselves into
thinking they were in their own home ; how she
found herself more surprised than edified by their
transatlantic manners ; how she caught herself utter-
ing ejaculatory monosyllables at odd hours of the day
over this or that remark or peculiarity of her guests ;
how, when they had been with her for two days, she
patched together a little prayer to say with her other
prayers, having especial reference to the faults and
failings of her American relatives ; how she believed
she should surely expire if Heaven decreed her another
Sabbath in their society ; how she sped the parting
guests with amazing alacrity, considering her years,
and felt as though a load of lead had been lifted from
her soul when the crunching of the carriage wheels
down the drive had quite died away—all this is out*
side the aim of our story. We should like to make
32
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
closer acquaintance with Aunt Isabel, but we dare not,
for we like ber for her kindliness, old-fasbionedness,
and tender garrulity, and we fear, once under ber
hospitable roof, we should never leave her until our
wits were overpowered with good cheer, and our
brain habited with the grey moss of respectable and
somniferous routine.
To return, therefore, to the Miss Lydhams of Borton.
Their dismay on receipt of their letter was at first
almost as great as their Aunt Isabel's. Nor was it
quite unreasonable in them. For, occupied as they
were during the day, they could not hope to do all
they might wish for their guests, as their aunt, good
woman, could at least hope. They had never con-
templated the likelihood of such a visit as this. The
coming almost without warning seemed to them such
a preposterous thing. Why, they themselves were
most particular in giving their aunt at least a month's
notice of the exact day and hour (if possible) when
they intended to be with her; so that, during the month,
the looming excitement might gradually merge itself
into the everyday life of the old lady. And here
was she being swooped down on as though she were
an hotel.
Then they called in Martha, and broke the news to
her, as one almost equally interested with themselves.
And Martha, after going a little pale, pulled herself
together, and said that she would do all that in her
lay to make things as they should be. She would see
about the beds in the spare rooms. She did not mind
at all about sleeping in the attic, hitherto given up to
boxes and rubbish. She would make arrangements
with a small boy to clean the knives and boots while
"PITY the trials op a poor old maid." 33
the visitors were in the house. She would read the
" Beeton " her late mistress had bequeathed to her 011
her dying bed, and the deuce was in it (so she asseve-
rated within herself) if she could not trot out some
dishes to make the "furriners " open their eyes. She
took everything on her broad shoulders, and left the
room with a smile on her honest lips, as though it
were a trifle that her work for the next week was to
be doubled.
And then, the bell beginning to ring frequently, as a
signal that the hungry young minds of the next
generation were coming for their morning meal of
intellectual food, the sisters hurried to their respective
schoolrooms, and received the homage of their subjects
preparatory to work.
D
CHAPTER VI.
" 'tis odd that men should differ as they do."
Mr. Cathcart and his fellow curate lived together,
occupying four rooms in the house of a widow, who
considered that she was blessed spiritually and peeu-
niarily by the presence in her house of two such
gentlemen.
Mr. Warmington, the senior curate, was one of
those men who are commonly said to be of " very
solid parts." He was nearly ten years older than
Cathcart, and looked it—quite. If wrinkles on the
brow may serve as advertisements of age, like the
rings in a tree, Mr. Warmington was a good adver-
tising medium. Time had set four or five very deep
horizontal lines upon him, and there were suggestions
of many more less marked interlineations. What his
past history had been no one in Borton knew.
True, it was the affair of no one except himself. But
then, the good people of Borton. ordinarily made it
their business to find out everything that was know-
.able relative to the antecedents of every one with
whom they had much to do. And if, as sometimes
happened, they failed to satisfy themselves, they
had one great force to fall back upon, namely, their
imagination.
Of course, clergymen were excepted from this
tyranny. They were favoured sons of society; and,
"'tis odd that men should differ." 35
society leaders, unless given over to the world, the
flesh, and the devil, dared not endanger their souls by
turning a cold shoulder to the directors and inspiriters
of their souls. Nevertheless, though the line of
favouritism was very comprehensively drawn, it was
possible for even a clergymen to overstep it. A little
something was exacted from him in return for the
many privileges he enjoyed. A few personal parti-
culars, exposition of views on one or two delicate
subjects, and a certain masculine deference towards
the female sex (or rather the well-dressed and scented
portion of it), deference in which, by a stretch of
fancy, one could discern suggestions of a survival of
those happy times when men could be made ecstatic by
a look from a fair lady's eyes, or a touch of her milk-
white hand : these trivial requirements were what it
became every clergyman not to leave unsatisfied.
Now, Mr. Warmington, though admitted to be an
• excellent man, a powerful preacher, a scholar, and
with the stuff of a martyr in him, was not a favourite
with Borton society. The poor loved him; but
Borton society, while allowing that he was liked,
made the admission with some reservation. From
the pulpit he could stir his hearers to their depths, so
that they forgot the man in listening to the preacher ;
but, half an hour after the sermon, people began to
remember that he was very different out of the pulpit
and in the pulpit. As a human being, he was too
reticent. He told Borton nothing about his early
history. Questionings had a stubbornising effect on
him : he would smile, and turn the questions aside.
He was nothing like as communicative about his
views concerning a future state as young Jones had
36
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
been—young Jones, bis predecessor, who bad since
gone abroad, and was " twenty-six, my dear." The
Borton ladies had been trained up in the belief that
eighty percent, of their neighbours would be consigned
to Tophet sooner or later, and the fancy did not
interfere with their appetite. Young Mr. Jones,
who was a wrangler, had, after consideration, raised
the percentage to ninety ; and the Borton ladies had
cheerfully acquiesced, asking him to supper night
after night, until, one evening, he said he was of
opinion that ninety-nine per cent, was not an extra-
vagant estimate—nor did even this dismay or shock
then, so blamelessly had they lived. But when one
or two of them broached the subject to Mi*. War-
mington, mentioning their authority for the ninety-
nine per cent, opinion, that gentleman had frowned,
looked them in the face frigidly, and said sternly that
it behoved them to know that not even a curate of the
Church of England could tell for certain who would
and who would not be saved, and that he for one had
not the smallest belief in a hell a la Milton or Dante.
It was scarcely nice of him, they said, to shake them
in their traditions; and questionable, as a matter of
morality. And when, after this, he began to turn his
attention to the poorer denizens of Borton, neglecting
them, or resigning them to his junior curate, they
began to hold him in disesteem, and lament the
George the Fourthish civilities of young Jones—
young Jones, who would never allow them to rise
from their chairs without also rising from his chair,
and who would as soon have thought of letting any
one of them go to the door without opening this for
her as of letting them begin supper without the
"'tis odd that men should differ." 3?
preface of an original Latin grace. So the Borton
ladies put their heads together, and whispered into
each other's ears that Mr. Warmington lacked
" breeding," yes, breeding : than which, it seemed to
them, thev could not have brought a more horrid
/ «/ O
charge against him.
In this state of affairs the advent of young Cathcart
was a great boon. The Borton ladies feted him, gave
him carte blanche as to behaviour (a very different
thing from a man's taking it without permission),
called him William when alone with him, and said he
had beautiful eyes. It was one of the dissipations of
Borton for the leaders of local society to meet in a
drawing-room, and listen to Mr. Cathcart reading
Tennyson or Swinburne. They would have preferred
Byron ; but, though all wished it, no one would take
upon her to make the suggestion. Tennyson, how-
ever, was very supportable, though he did write in-
comprehensibly, and Mr. Cathcart put a most be-
coming amount of expression into everything he
read. It is true he would like to have discussed the
merits of the poet after the recitation, which was a
bore, as they none of them knew wherein his merits
lay; but they could generally turn him aside from
such mere scholasticism by beseeching him to read
just one more stanza, until, at length, wearied and
out of breath, he was ripe for a trance, and became
an object of contemplation—nothing more. On one
such occasion, it was said, the poor fellow had lost
his head for ten minutes at a stretch, and sat gazing
fixedly at the wall all the time, or at least in the
direction of the wall; for the ten ladies who were
present, presumably thinking it was a pity such a
38
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
look should be wasted upon insensible substance, got
into the focus turn and turn about, so that they each
had a minute of rapture, yielding themselves up for
the time to the thrilling fancy that they were the
object of his only too sentient though dumb adoration.
These trances were undoubtedly a misfortune in
young Cathcart. Yet it is not going too far to say
that he was liked the more rather than the less for
the misfortune. Liked, that is, by such ladies as
these. But his fellow men took a more practical
view of the misfortune, and were not slow to let him
know what they thought of it; and no one had less
sympathy with this phase of Cathcart's nature than
Mr. Warmington. He disliked exceedingly anything
savouring of abnormal sensibility, anything that
tended to excite the heart unhealthily. And, while
liking his junior for •his many good qualities, he-
condemned his weakness, and warned him of the
dangers it would create for him.
On the afternoon following'the receipt of her aunt's
letter by Miss Lydham, the younger curate entered
the room which he and his senior jointly used, and
which went by the name of study. He found
Mr. Warmington writing, but disposed to lay aside
his pen for any plausible reason.
" Well!" said the latter, falling back in his chair,
" whom have you seen ? "
" Miss Lydham for one," was the reply, rather
drily.
" Ah ! " and Mr. Warmington looked keenly at his
coadjutor. " Is there anything between you and
her ? "
"What a question!" said the other, laughing.
" 'tis odd that men should differ." 39
" They are very hospitable, and would welcome one
every day in the year."
" I daresay. But there is temptation of good as
well as of evil, and I am not sure that it is not the
more dangerous. But answer my question."
" Well, I like her very much, Warmington."
" More than you do most people you are willing
to know? "
" Oh, I say! you are such a metaphysician. I
can't gauge my preferences in that style, and I'm
not sure you are complimentary."
" Men are nothing if not uncomplimentary. It is
for women to feed and be fed on compliments."
" Then you don't feed them over much."
" No, because I think the supply of compliment-
makers is equal to the demand. But, do tell me ; I
should like very much to know."
" Know what? "
" Whether you are sweet on either of the Lydham
girls ; and, mind you, Will, I think more highly of
them than of most of our ladies."
" They will be charmed to know it. I will tell
them."
"Do, if you like. But why not answer my
question?"
Mr. Cathcart drummed with his fingers on the
window-pane, and seemed to be watching a mason
at work on one of the little turrets at the chancel
end of the church. Then he turned and said :
" Warmington, I believe she would marry me if I
asked her."
" I don't think it improbable either. But is she
singular in this ? "
40
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" There ! Don't chaff, if you please. I can tell
you she is very much in earnest."
" I can believe it. She will be in earnest about
everything she does. So take care."
" Care ! about what ? I have done nothing so far.
Indeed, it may be rather a shabby thing to say, but I
really believe she is much more in earnest than I am."
" That is what I feared, Will. Do take advice and
look where you are going. I tell you seriously, a
woman's heart is not a thing to be trifled with, and
hers "
" Trifled with! What an idea! Why, you are
talking at me as if I were a professed lady-killer,
which, thank God, I am not. Besides, I speak my
mind to Constance Lydham."
" Ay ! But what does your mind say ? "
Mr. Cathcart laughed, and looked rather foolish.
" That puzzles me," said he. " But, apropos, the
Lydhams are expecting some friends, Americans, in a
day or two."
" Any men among them ?"
" Yes, two—an uncle and a man cousin. The other
is a lady cousin."
"Well, all I hope is, that the man cousin may save
you from a snare—a snare none the less that it is not
devised by the ensnarer. And now be quiet, Will,
I must finish my sermon."
Mr. Cathcart was very quiet indeed for the next
twenty minutes. He did not move from the window,
nor make the slightest sound to show that he was
still in the room. The mason continued to work at
the church, and the curate seemed to be too intent on
the mason and his labours to care to move away.
CHAPTER VII.
"i will—i won't."
Mr. Cathcart, though not much given to thinking
except on sermon Saturdays, when, by the united aid
of thought, pen, ink, and paper, he covered some
twenty pages of manuscript in a couple of hours—(no
wonder Captain Pinchard and others slept through
their delivery!)—did really weigh the words of his
fellow-curate about himself and Miss Lydham. He
came to the conclusion that he quite understood them.
And then he blushed at the idea of going down on
his knees and asking Constance Lydham to marry
him.
Then it occurred to him that he was taking much
for granted in this fanciful scheme of matrimony.
In the first place, had he ever really thought of
marrying Miss Lydham ? And, secondly, had she
ever thought of him as a husband ? He began to
rake his memory for incidents and words that might
throw some light on the question. But, speaking for
himself, he could say decidedly that he had not
thought of marriage at all with any definitiveness,
while, as for what Miss Lydham may have thought or
wished, of course he could hazard no opinion worth
consideration.
Yet, why should Warmington single out Miss
Lydham, of all the parishioners, to couple his name
with ? Though, on the other hand, would he not
42
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
have laughed his friend to scorn if he had named any
other lady instead of Miss Lydham ? " Was he then
unconsciously working out his destiny ?
There is no knowing into what department of
heterodoxy Mr. Cathcart's self-questioning might
have led him if he had not pulled himself together
with a determination that seemed to put an end to
the need for further thought.
" I will see Miss Lydham to-night, and undeceive
her or myself, whichever of us it is that is deceived."
At evening service he observed Miss Lydham
among the congregation. He caught her eye
strangely during the reading of the first lesson. The
verse, after which he had taken breath and looked
up, was from the Proverbs :—
" Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they
that love it shall eat the fruit thereof."
But he surely was guiltless of any indiscretion of
speech, for he felt no shock at the time, and ended
the chapter without a tremor in his voice. He read
it beautifully, they told him afterwards, with just the
amount of expression required by those pithy
crystallisations of wit and wisdom. Nevertheless, he
was not so absorbed by the reading, but that while he
read he could determine within him to walk home
with Miss Lydham after the service.
" I want to catch Miss Lydham," he said to Mr.
Warmington, as he rather hastily pulled off his
surplice in the vestry.
Mr. Warmington raised his eyebrows and made his
wrinkles run into each other for a brief moment.
If he intended saying anything, however, Mr.
"I WILL—I WON'T."
43
Cathcart gave him no opportunity. Hastening down
the aisle, the young curate passed the Widow Dun-
combe and two or three other ladies of the congrega-
tion, and came up with Miss Lydham at the corner of
Long Street.
" Let me see you home," he whispered.
"That will be very pleasant," said Miss Lydham,
and the brightness of the setting sun's rays caught
her face as she turned it towards him. " I was going
round by the bridge for the sake of the walk. It is
so fine."
" Good ! " said the curate.
So they twain turned to the east instead of the
west, intending to move northwards over the Borton
Brook, and round towards Heather Street in the
west; and the Widow Duncombe and others, casting
interested glances in their direction, wondered
which of the two had suggested so circuitous a route.
" I want to speak to you," said the curate. " Did
you [see it in my eye when I looked up from the
Lesson ? "
" Well—I did think I fancied something. But,"
she added, with a self-condemnatory smile, "I ought
not to say so."
" Oh," said he, " a clergyman is a man before
he is a clergyman; and he is human at all times."
" A delicate way of saying you are not as good as
you might be, Willie.
" Yes, if you like," said he. " But why call me
Willie ? I might be a boy in wide collars, Miss
Lydham."
" Forgive me," said she. " I thought you liked it
as much as I do. Do you prefer Will ? "
44
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Well—yes, much ; but "
" But that wasn't what you wanted to talk about ?
No, I hope not indeed, Will! "
" When did you say your cousins were coming ? "
" Next Thursday. Oh, Will, if you could only
know how oddly we look forward to it, and how glad
we shall be when the visit is over! "
" You are not very hospitable towards your
relatives, Miss Lydham," said he, laughing a little
sourly. " I'm glad I'm not a relation ! "
" Oh, I do call that unkind," said she. " Don't
we behave properly to you whenever you come to see
us?"
" Yes, you do. But then, I'm not a relative. If I
were "
" Mr. William Cathcart, if you are so rude I shall
ask you to take me home by the shortest, not the
longest, way! "
" No, don't do that. We should have the sun in
our eyes."
" Well, sir—I am not afraid of the sun."
" Nor I. But I prefer shade at times. Similarly
in human life—as Warmington says."
" I wish Mr. Warmington would not say such
things. I think he is too thoughtful a man. It
seems a pity to distress one's mind as he does his."
" Therefore you are happy because—but I need
not continue," said the curate, with a sly laugh.
" Don't be satirical, sir. Shall we rest here ? "
They were by this time at the bridge, an old stone
erection of three arches, with pointed buttresses, and
over each arch was a stone seat in a recess for two
persons.
" I WILL—I WON'T."
45
" How pretty the reflection on the water is ! " said
Miss Lydham, with folded hands and a calmed face.
"A beautiful sunset etherealises me—it does, indeed."
" Does it really, Constance," said the curate,
looking at her. " But don't take wings, whether of
rhetoric or feathers."
" Why not ? I only wish I could. But one
mustn't waste one's time at the eve of day, Will,
as someone says; is it Mr. Tupper ? And you
wanted to say something particular to me ; so let
us sit down here, where the brook makes less noise
over the stones, and you can tell it me."
They sat down, both on one seat, each resting an
arm on the low stone parapet of the bridge, with
the sun little by little disappearing before their
eyes, and the stray clouds overhead glorious in
purple and gold.
" I'm all attention, Will! " said Miss Lydham.
" It is a serious business, I'm afraid, and it puzzles
me," said the curate. He did not remove his eyes
from the western horizon.
" Does it concern me ? "
" Well—yes—I think so."
" Then speak out, sir. Don't frighten me in this
way."
"Indeed, I hardly know how."
" Oh, Will! You say it concerns me, and yet
you don't tell me what it is. Have I done anything
to displease you? You have not changed towards
me?"
" Changed!" and they looked at each other
instead of at the sun. "What a question to ask,
Constance! "
46
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Then do tell me what it is. Don't keep me in
suspense! "
"It was a silly notion that I had in my head.
But now it is clean gone."
They sat on the stone seat by the bridge until the
sun had quite disappeared, and a cool breeze came
from the brook into their faces, catching some
neighbouring alders, and rustling them musically.
The breeze told them that it was time to be moving
homewards.
They did not return by the highway, but by the
meadows. It was pleasanter, and they were less
likely to meet people, whether strangers or Borton
acquaintances. Perhaps it was as well that they did
so, for Constance Lydham had gently put her
right hand into Willie Cathcart's arm, whence, of
course, he could not repulse it, if he would ; and,
though neither of them might have known it,
it was a recognised thing among the Borton
bourgeoisie and others that for a young man
and a young woman not connected by blood to
go through the public streets arm-in-arm was
tantamount to a declaration that the parties were
engaged to be married to each other. They
separated at the top of Heather Street, Miss
Lydham assuring the curate that she felt very
much better for the stroll—and happier.
" How very late you are ! " said Mary, when her
sister entered the house.
" My dear Mary," said she in reply, " who, being
out, could resist such an evening as this ? I went on
to the brook to see the sun set."
" Was it so very pretty ? "
"I WILL—I WON'T."
47
"It was lovely, dear ; and the air was so soft
and delightful — quite a perfect evening. Yes,
Martha? "
" How will you like the radishes, Miss Constance
—in a salad, or by theirselves ? "
" Dear me, Martha, I don't care. Anyhow you
like."
" It's many a long month since I see her with
such a colour," said Martha, when she had re-entered
her kitchen and begun to cut off the tails of a row
of long-bodied red radishes. " We be strange
creatures, all on us. I remember when no carrot
could match me for colour, and then I were thin,
too, as a beanstalk. But now—oh, lor ! drat the
radishes, some of them be all tail! "
"Well," said Mr. Warmington, when Cathcart
appeared at the supper table, " when is it to be ? "
" When is what to be ? " asked the other, hanging
up his broad-brimmed hat.
" I supposed you had weighed the matter, and
taken the step."
" What step, Warmington ? You talk in riddles."
" My dear fellow, you are dense, on purpose, I
believe. I infer that you have proposed to Miss
Lydham to-night. It was the least you could do."
"Proposed! Why, Warmington, in spite of ap-
pearances, you are the most imaginative of men. So
far from proposing, I went home with her purposely
to do the other thing; put matters straight, I
mean."
" You don't say so ! But, indeed, I'm very glad
to hear it. Some beef, Will ? Oh, I'm very glad,
indeed, for both your sakes."
48
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" No beef, thanks. And thank you, too, for what
I shrewdly suspect is nothing in disguise."
" No, don't think that. A long time ago I laid it
down as a rule for myself that no man who is not
five or ten years her senior should marry a woman
over twenty-five. There's something in it, if obser-
vation goes for anything."
" What a wiseacre you are, Warmington ! Shall
you ever marry—do you think ? "
"I! It is unlikely. Marriage is a frolic to the
young, an important business to the man of thirty,
and a hazardous speculation for man or woman over
thirty-five. All the same, Will, I would rather die
married than unmarried."
CHAPTER VIII.
" the beings of the mind are not of clay."
When Aunt Isabel had seen the Americans clear of
her premises, she thanked God, and sent a telegram
to her nieces.
" Conny, dear," said Mary Lydham. " I do
hope all will go off well."
" So do I," said Miss Lydham ; "but we can't help
it if it doesn't."
" No, I really think we have done all we can.
And Martha has the draughts and chessmen all
cleaned in case Uncle cares to play. There is a pack
of cards, too, though ten or eleven of the fifty-two
are missing. And, for that terrible habit of theirs,
you know, she has ferreted out two or three of papa's
old spittoons—the blue and white china ones—one
for each of the two front bedrooms. I really don't
think we can do anything more, Conny."
They came at two o'clock in the afternoon. It
was raining, so that Long Street was comparatively
empty when the two cabs turned out of the main
road into Heather Street, where they drew up noisily
before No. 19. When the sisters entered the hall,
they heard much harsh talking outside. It was an
altercation between the cabman and his hire : not
a money trouble, but a defence of the weather of
his native land against some hard words of one of
the party. The door was then opened, and the
E
50
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
sisters stood in the porch, smiling a welcome, while
Martha kept in the hack ground.
" Hallo ! " said one voice from the cab.
" Don't get your feet wet," said a deeper voice
from the same cab.
" No, don't ye go and do that," said Martha, from
behind. " That's sensible advice, English or American.
Let me go and help them."
And the good woman went forward to hold an
umbrella over the strangers as they stumbled from
the cab to the door.
Uncle Foster shook himself before kissing his
nieces, and, having kissed them, he asked which was
which, and said that he was hungry, and wanted
putting to rights.
Cousin Samuel Johnson Foster went headlong at his
cousins as they were released by his father, and, to
their surprise, kissed them as their uncle had done,
only very much more fervently, and then, putting his
fists into his sides, and contemplating his victims
with a broad look of pleasure, said he was much
better pleased with the aspect of affairs at Borton
than at Norton Jarretts.
Lastly, Virginia came forward, with a shiver and
slight shake of her shoulders, and, smiling rather
carelessly, let herself be kissed by her cousins, who
remembered afterwards that she had not taken the
trouble to kiss them in return.
Then, the cabman having been settled with, the
door was closed, and the whole party entered the
dining-room. The sisters now had a chance of
seeing their relations more particularly.
Uncle Foster was brown and broad, with plenty
" THE BEINGS OF THE MIND ARE NOT OF CLAY." 51
of hair about his face, which, however, allowed his
mouth to be seen, and it was a firm, but very genial
mouth. Samuel Johnson Foster was a man of about
thirty, even browner than his father, whom he
featured closely ; he was not handsome, but evidently
healthy and spirited. As for Virginia, she was very
pale, attributable perhaps to the journey, and at first
sight seemed to have a cold look in the eyes ; but
scarcely had they set foot in the dining-room when
she glanced at her brother, and seemed amused at
something ; then she looked pretty.
" A long journey, this," said the old man, looking
about him.
" I hope you feel the honour," said Cousin Sam,
with a twinkle in his eyes.
" We are very pleased to have the opportunity of
knowing you," said Miss Lydham.
" Yes, we have often thought of you," added
Mary.
"Ah," said Uncle Foster to Miss Lydham;
" when you turn your lips down like an envelope,
as you did then, I see your aunt in you. What's
your age, my dear ?"
" Twenty-eight," replied Constance, feeling re-
sentful.
" Ah ! " said Sam, "that's a great age, ma'm."
At which Virginia giggled, and everyone laughed
more or less sincerely except Uncle Foster, who was
more than twice twenty-eight. " I guess we'd like
a wash," said he, rubbing his hands.
"Not yet, father," said Sam. " Let us have British
fair play. For instance, how old are you, ma'm?"
turning to Mary Lydham.
52
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"Well, you are rather cool, sir," said Mary,
laughing ; "but I suppose I must tell you."
" No need, ma'm," said Virginia, in a sharp voice.
Don't you remember, Sam, there's a year between
tnem.
" Of course," said he. " Then you're twenty-
seven? Wal, in return, I'm nine years past man-
hood, and missy here is nineteen. And now I'm
ready for anything."
Then they were led in state to their several rooms,
Martha taking care to inform the old gentleman that
her mistresses had gone into one room, a back one,
so the strangers might be as comfortable as possible.
"Now, really," said Uncle Foster, "that's kind •
and, since you are here, I'll thank you for a piece of
soap."
Which request sent Martha downstairs with an
odd sensation of rising inside her.
The two sisters, having done what they could for
Virginia, who seemed to be a great lover of mono-
syllables, held a brief conference during the ablu-
tions. They agreed that Uncle Foster did not
charm at first sight, that he was not the kind of gen-
tleman to be at ease in the society of the vicar, and
that it would have been worth anything to see how
he and their old Aunt Isabel had pulled together.
Constance thought Cousin Samuel Johnson quite as
unpleasing as his father, but she did not impute this
to him as a fault, since no doubt it wras an inherited
failing. Mary, too, thought her gentleman cousin
an alarming anomaly, and very ugly into the bargain,
" with all that hair on his face." As for Virginia,
well, she had snid so little that they could not venture
" THE BEINGS OF THE MIND ARE NOT OF CLAY." 53
to form an estimate of her. She had a pair of shrewd
grey-brown eyes, a straight nose, well curved lips,
and a shapely chin with a dimple in it; that much
they could perceive. They admitted, therefore, that
the girl had the mere superficial requisites of a pretty
girl. But whether she had a soul to spiritualise
these flesh and blood excellences had yet to be
learnt. They were inclined to fancy, however, that
she was better off in body than in soul.
When Uncle Foster and Cousin Sam appeared
downstairs it was manifest that they had tried to do
honour to their relations. Uncle Foster was remark-
able for a very open front, bisected by a frill some
half a century out of fashion. He had, moreover,
several rings on the fingers of both hands, and his
fingers, being somewhat stumpy, were enthralled
rather than beautified by their burdens. His coat
was long and ill-fitting, and his trousers had gathered
in a bunch at the knees, showing his boots freely.
He gave his nieces a stiff little bow as he walked
towards them, and then, smiling genially, said he
hoped they appreciated the honour they had done
them in dressing for dinner. Samuel Johnson Foster
wore a dress coat, contrasting oddly with some light-
coloured trousers. There were some valuable re-
splendent diamonds in the bosom of his shirt, and,
like his father, he seemed more anxious that his
different coverings and adornments should be noticed
than not. But, clothes apart, now that he had
brightened himself up and combed his whiskers,
Samuel Johnson was not at all a bad-looking fellow.
His eyes were, perhaps, a little too inquisitive and
restless, but ere dinner was over even Mary found
54
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
herself thinking that their eagerness in observation
was a merit rather than a failing.
And Virginia ? She came downstairs dazzling as
Galatea, dressed wholly in white, with a plain gold
chain round her neck, heightening the effect of her
costume. Virginia, the tired traveller, and Virginia,
the dinner-guest, were as different as light and dark.
Martha had seen her flash across the landing like a
spectre, and marvelled within herself until astonish-
ment ceased in the enjoyment of a ravishing scent
in the young lady's wake. No wonder the Lydhams
looked at her again and again. Her grey-brown
eyes were positively bewitching in combination with
the other parts kind nature had given her, and her
new graces acquired by art. She was a girl to
fascinate any young man who might be open to
fascination, and many an older one who had long
ago determined within him that the beauty of women
is mere lacquer, and always suggestive of the horrid
unamiability it conceals. Virginia laughed lightly
as she frisked herself to her chair, where she stood,
with eyes modestly upon the tablecloth, while Miss
Lydham said, a little nervously, her accustomed
srace before meat.
Then they all sat down, the strangers as full of
self-complacency as their hostesses were anxious.
Martha was speedily banished to her kitchen ; for
in her goodness of heart she had enquired of Uncle
Foster how he liked his soup before helping him to
anything. And, for a brief half minute, there was
silence except for the clashing of knives and forks,
while Constance and Mary did their carving and the
Americans felt their ground, so to speak. In one
" THE BEINGS OF THE MIND ARE NOT OF CLAY." 55
quick glance, Virginia viewed the dress of her
cousins respectively, and the style in which they
wore their hair, and then, demurely, she sought the
tablecloth again. Uncle Foster, with a perpetual
smile, looked hither and thither, hut was most
constant in regarding his own shirt frill; while
Samuel Johnson was more observant of his cousins
than of the pictures on the walls, which was com-
mendable in him. Moreover, he was anxious to be of
use, and besought his cousin Mary to give place to
him at the one end of the table so earnestly, that she
yielded with a hearty laugh, assuring him that her
deference would be repaid by a disaster—for he
looked the very personification of clumsiness.
" Clumsiness ! " said Sam. " Did you hear,
father ? Here is Cousin Mary calling me clumsy."
And this, so palpable libel, had such a tickling
effect on the father and sister of the accused, that
they went off into fits of merriment.
" My dear," said Uncle Foster, when he could
speak coherently, "you don't know much of your
Cousin Samuel yet, I guess, or he's the very last
young man you'd be stigmatising as that."
" Indeed, now, uncle," said Mary, demurely, and
with a face that showed how much she was open to
conviction. " I should not have thought it to look
at him. And are you sure you do not wrong the
States in saying it ? "
The subject of this depreciatory comment laughed
loudly. But to his father it seemed serious ; for,
having solemnly shaken his head, he replied that the
States might thank their stars they had such an one,
and that the States knew it too.
56
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" And are you tired, dear ?" asked Miss Lydham
of Virginia, who was supping her soup in a dainty
way that would have done credit to a dowager's
grand-daughter in her first season.
" I ain't a bit," said Virginia in reply.
" Perhaps you are used to long journeys in that
enormous country of yours? "
"Well yes, ma'm," said the girl, scanning her
cousin's face curiously, and without the slightest
suggestion of self-consciousness in her own face,
"you may say that."
" But then, there are such appliances for lessening
fatigue in America, are there not? "
" Bather, ma'm," said Virginia; and, having
finished her soup, she crossed her pretty hands in her
lap and looked sideways out of the window.
" Call me Constance, dear," said Miss Lydham
with a smile, attributing Virginia's "ma'm" to a
foreign kind of modesty. " You know we are all of
one blood, more or less. And Mary would like you
to call her Mary—as I do."
"Shall I?" responded Virginia, not taking her
eyes from the window. " All right, if I don't
forget. Say, have you any nice young men here,
ma'm ? "
The girl put the question in all good faith, quietly,
as she might ask for a second helping of soup. But
she did not trouble to look her interlocutor in the
face ; nor did she put any more animation into her
tones when, at Miss Lydham's request, she repeated
the question. Miss Lydham thought she might have
been mistaken. The influence of Borton was strong
enough to break down the niost forcible and erratic
" THE BEINGS OF THE MIND ARE NOT OF CLAY." 57
nature within a given time ; and even had not the
sisters been born in Borton, and trained up, so to
speak, in all the traditions of the place, they could
not long have withstood its code of conventionalities.
It is so much harder to he an Ishmaelite than a
Pharisee. Naturally, therefore, Miss Lydham
imagined she had misunderstood her young cousin.
" It is a curious question to ask, my dear," said
Constance Lydham, colouring slightly, " but I may
say I think that there are."
" I'm glad of it," said the girl; " for I doubted
we'd have but a sleepy time of it."
" Oh, you must be content to be very dull," said
Constance. " It is one of your experiences, you
know. An English country town is only another
name for dulness personified. However, we are not
barbarians. We have a grand old church, with
some stone and marble monuments that will interest
you, if you care for what is strange and historical."
" Oh no, ma'm ; I've left school. I hated history
and geography, and all the heap of them ; and I
want to do no more in the elementary study line this
side of the grave."
" That's a mistake, Virginia," said Miss Lydham,
kindly. " You ought to be learning every hour of
your life, or digesting what you have already learnt."
"Like a cow in a meadow," said Virginia, her
eyes twinkling, and her lips curling with this, her
maiden effort at satire in her cousins' house.
" Yes, if you like to say so," said Miss Lydham,
laughing. " And you might continue the parallel if
you chose, only it would require some logic to do
it, and perhaps you would be fatigued by the effort."
58
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Logic! Oh, I know the stuff. I never could
abide it. I don't see any use in it, anyway, do you ?
Surely a body can say what she wants, without
using logic, can't she ? "
" Oh, yes, no doubt. Some of ub are logical
intuitively."
" Jimini! What's that in American, Cousin
Constance ? "
"Ah, you two!" said Cousin Sam, breaking off
abruptly in his conversation with Mary Lydham.
" You're going the lick, so to speak. I've been
teaching my lady here to call me Sam, not Samuel
Johnson. It's a trick of hers, that last; but I'm not
a dictionary man, and I don't want that fat-faced old
stammerer brought up against me every time I'm in
company, I guess."
" That's right, my lad," said Uncle Foster. " A
living author is as good .as a dead one, whoever he
may be, and Sam's not a boy to be sneezed at."
"What! is our cousin an author?" asked Miss
Lydham.
" That he is, my dear," said Uncle Foster. " He
writes a book a day."
" Good gracious ! " said Constance.
" No wonder he is so thin and weakly-looking,"
remarked Mary, drily.
" No, I deny that I'm thin or weakly-looking. I
affirm that I'm as strong as any man in the universe."
" And what is the subject of your book—subjects,
of course, I mean ? "—asked Constance.
" Ah, Cousin Constance ! " said Sam, " we don't
tell tales out of school. But as you're a sort o'
relation, I don't mind saying that father and me are
" THE BEINGS OF THE MIND ARE NOT OF CLAY." 59
grand mechanical forces of this universe of Grod—
grand mechanical forces! and "Virginia, too, a
little ! "
At this Uncle Foster sat upright in his chair, as
though touched by a spring, and Sam himself flushed
rather proudly. Virginia alone seemed to take it as
a matter of course.
Mary Lydham was slightly awed, as certain
women of weak constitutions are awed by sonorous
words, whatever their significance. Miss Lydham
looked a trifle sceptical. It was possible, of course,
that they were entertaining angels unawares ; but it
had never entered her head that her American
cousins could be such important factors in the life of
the world. She was satisfied as well as relieved when
her cousin, with a short laugh of resignation, pro-
ceeded to say that it was no such great matter after
all, seeing that there were pretty nearly as many of
these prodigious forces in the universe as there were
individual men and women. " And mark me that I
say women," he resumed, with emphasis on the word.
" You don't know a woman's worth here, any one
can see ; and so you lose fifty per cent, of the ad van-
tage of living—eh, Virginny ? "
Virginia smiled a little smile of corroboration with
her lips and eyes.
" I think you are mistaken, Sam," said Miss
Lydham. "-No doubt you speak of your continent
as you find it. But here it is a woman's first duty
to be a wife and see after her children, or "
" Or, if not a wife, an old maid. And then she could
feed the poultry and knit garters—eh ? But, there,
I see I've made a slip. I ought not to talk of garters
60
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
so openly—eh? Well, I'm sorry; but it's a fact,
anyhow," said Sam.
" No, you shouldn't have named the garters, my
boy," said Uncle Foster, shaking his shoulders.
" But drive on."
" No, I won't either, father. There's time enough
to demagogue it later on. And, as someone has said,
it's at least as hard to brain a prejudice as to rear an
innovation. Besides, Cousin Mary and Cousin
Constance would go to sleep. A sermon out of
church or an argument at any time are like a curfew-
bell to them, or I'm not the discerning fellow I take
myself to be."
" I, for one, don't think you as clever as you seem
to be, Cousin Sam," said Constance. " Is he,
Virginia ? "
" Oh, he's got his cent's worth of wits, ma'm. I've
heard him give change in a way that would frighten
some."
" I wonder," said Constance, regarding Virginia,
" whether you write as well as your brother: do
you ? "
Virginia all but closed her eyes. She brought the
lids of both eyes so nearly together, that, but for
the compressed sparkle between them, you would
have supposed they were shut. " I guess I do, ma'm,"
she replied.
"And what about?" asked Constance, who had
not been able to prevent her eyebrows raising them-
selves when she heard Virginia's answer.
" Don't tell, Virginia," said Sam, across the table.
They're all pump-handle and no pump, and it ain't
fair. Oh, I say! What's up now? Eh, father?"
" THE BEINGS OF THE MIND ARE NOT OF CLAY." 61
" I don't know, Sam. I guess you've made
another slip. It ain't the thing to tell a lady in
America that about the pump, and I suppose it's
much the same here. Ask them to forgive you."
And the old gentleman fell back as far as he could
in his chair, and shook with merriment.
" And what sort did you say the young men were
here, Cousin Constance ? " asked Virginia.
" I don't think I said anything at all about them,"
replied Constance. Then, having looked to see that
everyone had finished, she added more loudly:
" Shall we say grace, and leave the gentlemen to
themselves ? "
CHAPTER IX.
" oh ! these dull, rainy afternoons ! "
The two American gentlemen did not forsake their
wine for nearly half-an-hour. Twice did Martha
disturb them and hack out of the room with an
uncouth but strenuous apology; and, after the second
time, the good woman made up her mind that she
would not ascend her kitchen stairs again to no
purpose.
How the father and son passed their time
we do not know, except that sundry residents in
Heather Street, who had occasion to pass the
Lydhams' house, subsequently mentioned a strange
face at the window, and one old lady hurried on the
faster because she fancied she was a subject of
amusement to the bold eyes of this strange face.
This was a horrid thought. The old lady had become
quite accustomed to regard herself as an object of
universal respect, and, may be, of a little admiration
on the part of those who knew her least; and here, all on
a sudden, the fabric, which had taken a score of years
in raising, gave a lurch, and she felt, for one sharp,
bitter moment, that she might after all be other than
she thought herself. Fortunately, the old lady was
of a vigorous and philosophical mind. She deter-
mined then and there to save her reputation by
calling upon an abhorrent old person, for whom
Borton, even after a forty years' acquaintance with
" OH ! THESE DULL, RAINY AFTERNOONS ! " 63
her, could say not one' good word. Pitting herself
against this poor soul, the slightly-affronted lady
soon found reason to believe again that she was as
worthy as ever she had esteemed herself to be.
When they appeared in the drawing-room, there
was a perceptible movement of relief among the
ladies. The Lydhams had not found Virginia very
amusing so far. She could sit gracefully, and
arrange her profile before the window so that the
light fell on her, almost etherealising her. She could
cross her feet prettily, yawn deliciously, and sigh
with just the amount of piquancy to allure the
masculine mind into asking her what was the matter,
and offering to move heaven and earth to ease
her if she suffered. She could turn over the leaves
of books so beautifully that no gentleman not as
blind as a bat would think of looking at the paper
instead of at her shapely wrist and hand. All this
she could do to perfection. But it was not likely
that she would take the trouble to show herself off
to her lady cousins ; and, in truth, she did not try.
She had sat through the half hour with her hands in
her lap, and her eyes modestly on the carpet in front
of her. They had asked her to play something, but
she was proficient only in scales. She had learnt her
notes at college, and got well on in the drudgery of
the art, when it occurred to her father and herself
that her education was finished, and from that day
forward she had not opened a piano. Miss Lydham
inquired if she did not think it a pity not to cultivate
a taste for music ?
" I think not," said the girl.
" And why not, dear ? "
64
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Well, I believe my fingers have other fish to fry
—that's about it." To which the Lydhams could
respond only by looks as sententious as her words.
" What do you read, Virginia ? " asked Mary, as a
next endeavour.
" Read, Cousin Mary?—Oh, shoals of things."
" Poetry ? "
" Oh, yes. I like some poems."
" I wonder whether you ever read Morris's' Earthly
Paradise ?' "
" No, I can't say I have. Does it mean America ? "
"No, indeed," said Mary. "But what kind of
poetry do you like ? One can judge of others, I
think, by their likings in poetry."
" Oh, any that dosen't run into the regular
columns. Just a corner full for a snack or so."
" Good gracious, child," said Constance, " what do
you mean ? "
" Don't you see, ma'm, we can't spare more than a
few inches at the top of the pages, and I guess the
supply of room is dozens less than the demand.
Some of them are real weepers and nose-blowers."
" You surely don't mean newspaper verses ? "
" But I do. Why not ? "
" Oh, my dear, you should read better poetry than
that. And what books ? "
" Books ! Oh, I reckon a body's life is too short
for books, ma'm. We read papers ; they're our books
mostly."
" And you write in these papers ? "
"I do."
" Why, my dear girl, you must be a prodigy."
" It's possible, ma'm. I think I could chew up
"oh! these dull, rainy afternoons!" 65
most facts in my own mill. That's the difference
between us and you. You get physicked and stroked
down with words, which I call the skeletons of facts.
But with us, I guess he's a smart word that gets in
print without working for it. What politics have
your papers here ? "
" Here! We have no paper except a weekly
journal, and that doesn't think of politics much.
Borton, my dear, is little better than a village. Some
two or three thousand people—all content to let the
earth go round, or stop, just as it likes, so long as it
doesn't interfere with them. What do you think of
that, Yirginia. Shocking, isn't it ? "
" It is, ma'm."
" And oh, my dear, do drop that horrid ' ma'm.'
It sounds hateful to us here. Onlv servants address
v
us with ' ma'ms.' "
" Oh, I forgot," said Yirginia; and, yawning,
she drew herself a trifle nearer the window.
The pause and silence that followed was broken
by the entrance of the gentlemen, who came in as a
welcome diversion. Out of doors it still rained, so
that there was little inducement for the sisters to show
the Americans the town, of which they now formed
a part. From the drawing-room window they could
see up the road to the point of junction with Long
Street. The houses on either side were irregularly
built, but, under the dull sky, seemed uniformly
depressing ; they were so very unpretending in style
and decoration. The occasional rumble or rattle of
a cart or gig, and the splash of the rain drops on the
pavement, were the only sounds which marred the
stillness outside. Yerily, there was some excuse for
f
66
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
the shudder which took hold of Samuel Foster when
he looked out of the window.
" Won't you smoke ?" asked Miss Lydham, hoping
to comfort the two gentlemen. " The dining-room
is at your disposal, if you like to use it."
" We don't do it, my dear, either of us," said Uncle
Foster.
" I'm so glad," said Mary. " And we have pre-
pared for emergencies, such as bad weather. Do you
like backgammon or chess ? "
"Wouldn't touch them, my dear," said Uncle
Foster.
" Ugh! " exclaimed Sam. " It's only your long-
headed idlers who have time for such a frolic as chess
—God save us. A lady friend once tried it on with
Virginia ; but it didn't do, did it, Virginny ? "
" I guess not," said Virginia. " It's a good bit
worse than geography, and that's saying some-
thing."
"But, I say!" exclaimed Sam, "why arn't you
ladies at work ? I thought we'd be crowded up with
young gentlemen and damsels. Where are they ? "
" They have a whole holiday in honour of America.
The boys gave you three cheers, Sam."
" Oh, they did, the little rascals ! Well, if you like,
Cousin Constance, you may give them a whole week;
we won't say anything."
" Nor would their parents," said Mary. " It
would make as much sensation in Borton as Womb-
well's menagerie."
" Oh, dear, then. Are you going to leave us to our-
selves after to-day : morning, noon and night? W?
won't survive it, I affirm, if you do."
"OH ! THESE DULL, RAINY AFTERNOONS ! " 67
" Oil, but you must go about. There are people
you will like here—Miss Spout, for instance."
" Spout, eh ! She's far gone in years now, ain't
she ? I don't know where is the man who would fly
after a lady named Spout," and Sam laughed loudly.
" Do not be so very rude," said Mary. " I assure
you she has a sharp eye, and a tongue that no one
here can afford to despise, though she is a worthy old
soul; and if you don't behave yourself it shall not be
my fault if she is blind to your many failings, Cousin
Sam."
" Oh, I reckon she would have to be very blind
indeed not to find them out. I don't box them up,
and make them grow like hothouse plants ; not I.
Well, and who else besides Lady Spout?"
" There is Captain Pinchard, a dear little red-nosed
man, who has spent the best part of his life in the
militia, and is now thrown on the charity of the nation,
as he says. He means he is too stout to fight
without inconvenience."
"Is he rich?"
" Neither a millionaire nor penniless. I suppose
he has enough to live on and keep him moderately
happy."
" Yes—Miss Spout and Captain Pinchard. Go on,
cousin. See how attentive Virginia is. She's a rare
girl for society, is Virginny."
This young lady had no doubt much latent ability
of some kind ; but, judging from what she had shown
so far, the sisters wondered where it lay, if indeed it
was not all monopolised by the newspaper. It was
very evident, however, that she took an interest in
this enumeration of the Borton notables.
68
VIRGINIA, I'HE AMERICAN.
" You are inquisitional, Sam," said Mary. " But
it is our aim to amuse you, that is, to humour you.
There are the Tiddlers ; Mr. Tiddler is a lawyer, and
his wife is a great blue-stocking—reads Plato in bed,
they say, and argues with her husband about his own
cases : she taking equity, he law."
" My stars !" exclaimed Uncle Foster. " What an
iniquitous woman! "
" Oh, he doesn't mind it, sir. He's good enough to
say that a woman must be occupied with something
that doesn't concern her ; and that it is well if she
take up nothing worse than Greek and common-sense.
Then there are Dr. and Mrs. Pancure. The doctor has
married three times, each time advantageously."
" An estimable and remarkable man! " said Uncle
Foster.
" And Dr. Bathall, a widower, and fond of good
living. As for ladies, there is no lack of them, and
Virginia shall be provided with companions at all
hours of the day, if she likes."
" Thank you, but I'd rather not," said Virginia,
quietly. " Ladies are not much in my line, and I
don't calculate English ladies are good for much."
" Oh, oh, Virginia," cried Uncle Foster. " Present
company excepted, you should say, child."
" Oh, of course, papa, that's an understood flattery."
" My dear," said Constance, "you must try and
like us, else we shall not like you ; it's an infallible
consequence. We English women have something
good about us, I assure you. Whether we are better
or worse than American women, I don't know ; but
you may be sure the good gossips of Borton will have
come to an opinion on the subject by this time next
" OH ! THESE DULL, RAINY AFTERNOONS ! " 69
week, for you are the only sample of an American
they have ever had the chance of seeing."
" Oh, if I'm to be stuck up for them to pelt at, I'd
just as soon be back in Timoleonopolis. Wouldn't
you, pa ? "
"Well, I wouldn't, my dear. And you must get
used to that sort of thing. I guess it's a strengthener
of the system, somehow."
" Go on with your names, Cousin Mary," said Sam;
" we've had doctors and lawyers, and ladies in the
lump. Who else ? "
" Ah! we have kept a bonne bouche for you, to
end up with. There is MTr. Cathcart, a curate of the
Parish Church, and a great friend of ours. He will
please you ; affd there is another curate, a middle-
aged man, who doesn't go out much."
" What are their ages, ma'm? " asked Virginia, with
great show of interest in her eyes.
" Mr. Cathcart is about as old as your brother, and
Mr. Warmington, I should say, is middle-aged."
" Five and thirty then, I suppose. He's far gone,
and a bachelor, ain't he ? "
" He is unmarried, yes."
" And all those single ladies you named in a lump
here too! Mv! but he must be a cat fond of
%/
cream ! "
"My dear," said Uncle Foster, spiritedly. "Keep
your syllogisms and similes, or whatever they are,
for the mail. They're more taking over there than
here, I fancy ; and somehow don't come as well from
your lips as they used. It's the change' of air,
depend upon it; so store them, love ! "
"Well, I never, papa! To be spoken to like
70
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN,
that, and before company too!" And the girl
looked with keen reproach at her father, though
there was no trace of sulkiness in her face.
" It's a fact, Virginia," said Sam. " On the vessel
you were a pretty good picture, and looked at as
one, because you were pale, and couldn't speak for
being sick ; but now you've got your tongue, you
had better sugar your words a bit—like candied
lemon or something."
" Yes, yes," said Uncle Foster. " She's an
excellent girl for the most part, with but one positive
personal fault—that of not knowing her value, and
being so modest at times that it's as difficult as iron
to make her speak a word."
" Yes ? " said Miss Lydham, interrogatively, look-
ing at the subject of this character-sketch.
" Poor girl! " said Mary. " But I didn't think it
was in the nature of Americans, of either sex, to be
modest, uncle."
" Oh, indeed it is, my dear! True, they don't
show it the same as you, but "
"That explains a good deal," said Miss Lydham,
" and I'm most glad to know it."
Sam, having again wandered to the window, now
reported that the rain had stopped, and that a break
in the clouds over the blue roof-line in front.was
momentarily widening.
"Then," said Miss Lydham, "if you would
rather walk out than stay talking indoors, uncle,
and Virginia isn't tired, suppose we show you the
place ? "
"To be sure," said Uncle Foster. "So go,
Virginia, and put on your bonnet at once ! "
"oh! these dull, rainy afternoons!" 71
" Bonnet, pa ? " said the girl. " I guess if Amelia
Wright hadn't been posted up in the fashions just the
week before we started, I'd be wearing a bonnet;
but as it is, it's a hat."
" Wal, wal, child," said Uncle Foster, " get your
hat, and, for mercy's sake, don't palaver so."
CHAPTER X
*' What wouldst not be unless tnou wert well paid ?
A fidgety, nervous, self-vexing old maid !"
When the Americans had walked up Heather Street
into the Long, they had really seen Borton. The
old church tower which rose above the red brick
houses standing between it and the Long was a
pleasing addition to the prospect, seen from Heather
Street corner, and an addition of some moment
besides, since the church was the only building of
the place with any pretensions to architectural
beauty and interest. Most of the houses of the
Long were of red brick, and, by a strange freak of
something or somebody, three stories high. They
stood up, tall and thin (generally with two rows of
attenuated windows to each house), like yawns in red
brick, and on rainy days it required little imagina-
tion to beget the fancy that there were eyes
somewhere above the roof-lines, and that these were
weeping from the exhaustion and weariness con-
sequent upon the eternal yawning.
In Borton, as elsewhere where business habits are
not omnipotent, people stayed indoors when it rained,
and turned out with the sun. Like the sparrows,
they twittered best after a shower ; so that when the
Miss Lydhams and the Americans were fairly half
way in the Long, by looking east and west, some ten
or twelve people could be seen.
"WHAT wotjldst not be," etc.
73
" Dear me ! " exclaimed Mary. " I see Captain
Pinchard."
" What! Yon man with the stick ? " said Sam.
" He's gouty, I'll swear."
" He's an exceedingly pleasant man," said Miss
Lydham, " and you must make friends with him."
u Lawks ! He's fifty-five if he's a week," remarked
Virginia, who had eagerly followed Mary Lydham's
gaze.
" As a matter of fact," said Miss Lydham, " he is
sixty-five. But, fortunately, young people do not
monopolise the faculty of pleasing."
Captain Pinchard crossed the road, and by slow
stages came within a few yards of the party before
he recognised the Miss Lydhams. When he noticed
them he smiled cordially, and held out his hand.
" My dear young ladies," he said, " out, like me,
to pick up nature's diamonds ? Thank God for the
rain—eh ? "
Miss Lydham introduced him to the Americans,
whom he greeted in a very friendly manner, bowing
most respectfully to Virginia.
" I would have given a year of my life twenty
years ago to see your country, sir!" he observed to
Uncle Foster.
" Ah! I don't wonder, mister—I don't wonder! "
" What! you don't ? A year's a good deal—but
it's natural in you, quite. Now, I'm content to class
itwith heaven and hell, as a gigantic possibility "
" Hey, sir ! " said Sam, laughing. " You mustn't
think of us as natives of the second place ! "
"Not at all, sir; don't suppose it! " said the
captain, raising his eyebrows, and pressing on his
74
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN".
stick. " Rather as messengers from heaven—angels
in disguise, eh? or, even not in disguise!" and he
bowed a second time to Virginia.
" You will be disappointed if you rate us so high,
mister," said Uncle Foster. "We're good enough
fellows in our way, I reckon ; but as for taking
honours in sanctity or angeldom, why it would be
pretty well if we matriculated without doing that."
"Would it, indeed?" said Captain Pinchard.
" And what do you think of England, sir ?•" turning
to Sam.
" Oh," said Sam, " it seems a good enough place
to spend a week in."
" A week! So much, sir ? But then, 110 doubt you
have unlimited time on your hands. May I hope
you are a millionaire in search of a bride and, ahem!
—bridegroom ? It is a rule with me, sir, to treat all
Americans as millionaires until I am corrected.
The assumption is an easy one, and pleases all
parties."
" Don't think it, mister. Papers go off pretty fair
in the States, but men don't pick up millions now-
a-days."
" Ah ! newspaper proprietors," said the captain.
"Another assumption. A man is either a million-
aire or he isn't. But whether he is, or whether he
isn't, he is an editor. Similarly, my dear (to Vir-
ginia), I assume every American young lady to
be beautiful until she denies the charge. And—
God be evermore as good to us—I find that beauti-
ful young ladies are quite as common as newspaper
editors and millionaires."
" A sight commoner mister," said Virginia
" WHAT WOULDST NOT BE,'' ETC. 75
carelessly, but witb a pleased smile on her lips ; " that
is, if they are to be believed themselves."
" Ah ! " said the captain, " defendant pleading her
own and her sisters' cause ; no prettier spectacle
since the three sought the apple. My dear sir, you
have a very great charge upon you in bringing this
young lady across the sea. You don't expect to
take her back, do you ? "
"Faith, sir, I do," said Uncle Foster.
" And what does she say herself? Would you like
to pitch your tent — temple, rather — here in
England, my dear ? "
" What! live in such a thimble as this ? It
would take a strong peg to fix me here, I guess,
mister," and she smiled ironically.
"Oh, quien sabe? as the Spaniards say. My
dear young lady, thank God, nature won't let her
handiwork be seriously interfered with. You can't
wear mail on your heart."
"Who'd want to do that, sir? Not Virginia
Foster, for one."
" You relieve me. I thought you couldn't be as
hard-hearted as your lips tried to make you out—
the rosy traitors ! "
" My dear captain," said Miss Lydham, " your
levity is remarkable. My cousin is a young lady not
at all used to such charmers as you."
" I guess not," said Virginia.
" Ahem ! I think I will do myself the honour of
saying ' Good afternoon,' " and, with a low salutation,
the captain walked away, with one hand behind his
back, and his head bent forward meditatively.
" Oh, has Captaiq Pinchard gone ? " asked Mary
76
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
Lydham, turning round : she and Sam had walked
on a little in front. " But, never mind ; here is an
exchange in the respectable person of Miss Spout, I
do believe."
" What! " said Sam, " the party in black, with a
veil and reticule ? "
" That is Miss Spout."
" A very agreeable lady, I should say, whatever
you may think," said Uncle Foster, smoothing the
hair on his face, and lightly brushing his coat at the
shoulders.
" Yes, it is Miss Spout," said Constance. " My
dear Miss Spout, how do you do ? "
" I'm in perfect health, my dear, after the shower.
How refreshing it has been, to be sure. Your
friends ? Oh ! " Miss Spout had raised her
veil to her nose, displaying half a face, kindly
indeed, but strangely suffused with blushes for a
woman of her years. She dropped the veil com-
pletely when she saw the gentlemen with Miss
Lydham.
"Miss Spout—my uncle, Mr. Foster ; my cousin,
Miss Virginia Foster; and my cousin, Mr. Samuel
Johnson Foster."
" Miss Spout has what I believe to be an
exaggerated idea of the importance of an American,"
added Miss Lydham, smiling.
" No, no ; not exaggerated ! " murmured Miss
Spout, raising her hand in objection. " Indeed no! "
" It's a common notion, from all appearances,"
said Uncle Foster, "and an awkward one too."
A second sound of disagreement came from Miss
Spout, who, in the meantime, was closely ob-
"what wouldst not be," etc.
11
serving the strangers from behind her veil; though
to outsiders it seemed as though she had no face—
only a black section of one.
" Oh, Miss Spout will know better before she sees
the hack of us," said Sam, winking at Mary—to
Mary's extreme disquietment.
" Indeed—I think not," exclaimed Miss Spout, so
earnestly that they all laughed; and, hearing their
laughter, Miss Spout herself joined them.
When the laughter had subsided, Miss Lydham
said : " Our relations have come to see England, and
they have agreed to regard Borton as a representative
country town."
"I think you are wise, sir," said Miss Spout to
Uncle Foster. " Our large cities are deplorable semi-
naries of sin and evil-doing—from both of which,
happily, we are almost if not totally exempt."
"Now, is that a fact?" asked Sam, turning to
Mary Lydham.
" I really don't know, Cousin Sam, but I am willing
to suppose that it is."
" Oh, it is," said Miss Spout eagerly: " and it is a
subject for- congratulation that you have not taken
your young female connection into those sinks of
corruption."
" Oh, I say ! " exclaimed Sam, laughing. " You
are coming it a trifle too strong. The ' sinks of cor-
ruption' is the recovery blow, ma'm, I'm sure."
" Since you say it, sir! " said Miss Spout, making
a movement of retirement, as though to acknowledge
herself beaten in argument. Then, having well
viewed Virginia Foster, she whispered to Miss Lyd-
ham, but not inaudibly to the others : " What a nice
78
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
modest young person the girl is ! Would she take
tea with me, I wonder? "
" Oh," said Constance—" I don't doubt it, if you
ask her."
" My dear," said Miss Spout, edging near to
Virginia : " I live very quietly, but should so like to
see you some evening. Will you come ? "
" Come? " said Virginia. " Oh, yes, I'll come if
the others do. It will be an experience, I suppose."
" Oh, but, my dear," murmured Miss Spout,
" my parlour is only a tiny place. It wouldn't
hold you all, indeed it wouldn't. Besides, men of the
world don't care for an old woman like me ; come by
yourself, will you ? "
: " I heard you, ma'm," said Uncle Foster ; "and,
if I may say it, you're talking treason. There's no
man living but may learn something new from a
woman, and the older the wiser, single or not—and no
flattery, ma'm."
" Oh, sir! " said Miss Spout.
" You must have three cups ready," said Mary,
" and I'll see that my uncle is no renegade."
" Do you play cribbage, ma'm ? " asked Uncle
Foster.
" Cribbage ! cards ? well, a very little. But—
Patience is a game with which I am more conversant."
" Then I will challenge you to a game, my dear
madam, and thank you for your kindness."
" Oh, no, sir—'tis you that honour me. Then you
will come, dear (to Virginia) ? "
" Yes, ma'm, since you bid so high."
"And perhaps, another night," continued Miss
Spout, rather timidly, as though conscious of temerity
"what wouldst not be," etc.
79
- — " a few friends — lady friends. They would be
so pleased to meet an American young person."
" Young people, ma'm?" asked Virginia. " Se-
rious as a lawyer in his box," as Miss Spout
afterwards assured one of her friends.
" Oh, well, my dear," said Miss Spout; " you must
suppose them to be young, and they will not disap-
point you."
" I'd rather wait a bit, thank you. I'd rather
riot promise, much rather."
" Of course, my dear, please yourself, and you will
gratify me, to be sure. It was never a view of mine
to hurry people into acquaintance with each other.
However, I rely on you and the gentleman for one
night in the week."
"There! Uncle Foster, you have seen Borton,"
said Miss Lydham.
They had walked the whole length of Long Street,
and gone a few paces into what would have been
called the suburbs of a larger town than Borton.
Miss Spout would not return with them ; she was
engaged for a six o'clock cup of tea with Miss Clack,
who lived no less than a hundred yards out of the
borough—"quite a country residence, and 110 taxes,"
she said of her house. And Miss Clack was notorious
for punctuality—not a person to be kept waiting.
For she was no lamb in her temper, and had so pro-
lific an. imagination that she could in general supply
a reason for anything. Therefore Miss Spout did not
hesitate one moment in rejecting Miss Lydham's offer
of a cup of tea in company with the American
strangers.
"A very agreeable gentlewoman, that," said Uncle
80
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN,
Foster, when Miss Spout had left them. " 1 can't
think why you affect veils here so much."
" Oh! she's an old frump, father," said Sam.
" Ladies never take to veils till they've nothing to
hide worth the hiding."
"Do you like the captain, dear?" asked Mary of
Virginia.
"Yes—a bit. Is he an army captain ? "
" Oh, of course. So you are going to drink tea
with Miss Spout ? She is very good-hearted, and by
no means an uncultivated woman."
" Oh, lawks, Cousin Mary. I hope she'll white-
wash her memory, or let us slip slick out of it. What
made her ask me, I wonder ?"
" From motives of pure kindness, my dear—be
sure of that. And your father too."
CHAPTER XI.
"family graces stripped bare."
After tea they ascended to the drawing-room, and
lit the gas as soon as nature gave them reasonable
excuse for doing so. With the instinct of habit upon
him, Uncle Foster began to read the paper. He told
his nieces that wherever he found himself he could
no more resist his drop of news at sundown—the time
when facts are most easy of digestion, and fancies
show at their best—than he could help falling asleep
in bed when he was tired.
" Please yourself, uncle, and you will please us,
whatever you do," said Miss Lydham.
"And I, too," said Sam, "have a yearning for a
pen. For goodness' sake let me get forth the thoughts
that are bursting within me—or I shall die of a sup-
pressed leading article."
" God forbid,v said Cousin Mary, laughing.
" I hope this dreadful malady does not run through
all the family," said Constance. " How are you,
Virginia ? "
" Oh, pretty well. But, like Sam, I guess I could
do a startler."
" Well, Virginia," said Constance, "if you think
it would really ease you to write, do write, my dear.
Here's pen and ink, and paper."
" Lord, ma'm ! An egg wants a host of sitting on
before he'll hatch. I've only the facts kindling like
G
82
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
at present. I couldn't write off hand without my
ruminate for any money."
" Poor child ! " said Constance, compassionately.
" Oh, I don't mind it, ma'm ; don't think it. The
most bouncing column and a half I ever put up I
did at a rush. Elizabeth Jenks, the help, dabbed my
forehead, else it was so hot with thinking, I believe
my brain would have gone alight, I do, indeed.
The sale next day was a couple of thousand to the
better, warn't it, father ? "
"Hey? What?" from Uncle Foster.
" Oh, never mind." And the girl brushed the
hair off her brow hurriedly. " They gave me thanks
in deputation. There was Senator Bunks and
Senator Billaway, and a black line of others as long
as your house from top to bottom."
" And whatever did you say to them ? It was a
great occasion, sure enough ! "
" Say! Oh, I guess I didn't say much. Looks
and standing straight are a heap more overwhelming
when you've got no words to match."
" True. So you just thanked them, and went on
writing ? "
"No, I didn't, either. Catch me clipping a good
thing short like that. You'd never do for a writer,
Cousin Constance. No, I just smiled enough to
make them speak and look their best. Then I asked
to have the pleasure of shaking hands with them,
each by each, you bet. This way I had a long peep
into each of their eyes, took their measure, saw who
had whiskers and who hadn't, and winnowed the
stumps from the coming ones."
" My dear, I envy you your pluck."
"family graces stripped bare." 83
" Pluck ! don't fret. There were nineteen of them
in all—and, mind you, all whole hoggers ; none of
them under a bushel. They gave me meat for nine-
teen as spicy little personal paragraphs as you would
pick out in all the States. I hit them all off, didn't
I, father?"
" Hey ? What, my dear ? Who ? What is it ? "
and the old gentleman put down his paper.
" Oh! don't disturb yourself, father. I'm not
going to ask you questions at this time of night."
" Glad you've found your * tongue in a going
humour," said Sam, laughing, and nodding his head
confidentially towards his Cousin Mary. " It's self-
lubricating, like an eel, and, like a conger, it's
slippery and sharp as well at times."
" Hush! " said Miss Lydham. " Be kind to your
sister. It is the duty of a brother to respect his
sister's weaknesses."
"Oh, yesyma'm," said Virginia, derisively); "I
affirm he dare do no otherwise."
" At any rate, my dear, you are not like those silly
lovebird creatures who sulk when they don't make
love, and never have a good honest pecking match."
" Ho fear," said Sam. " Indeed, we show our love
by pecking, which is profitable all round. We say
some things smart enough for the papers, you know,
and that puts us right again. It sharpens us for our
work altogether. But, I say, arn't we going to have
any music, girls ? I call you girls because I like it,
you know."
" Well, Cousin Sam," said Mary, " that's an
apology, but as [clumsy a one as ever was heard.
What shall I sing ? "
84
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
u Oh, anything, Cousin Mary, so it's full of ups
and downs. We have some rare rows at home, and
I can bear most of them, even when I'm not
sleepy."
" Sam, you astonish me. Do you mean to be
rude, or is it that your manners are in deshabille ? "
" Neither, Cousin Mary; but do begin ; Virginia
can talk to Cousin Constance. She's wound up now,
and ready to turn herself inside out without a little
finger of help. And it will be nuts to Constance,
won't it? "
" Are you sentimental, Sam ? "
" God forbid ! none of your languishing men-in-
women's-clothes songs for me. No, no; some
thundering ballad—all bass notes, and sharps and
fiats. Something toothsome, Cousin Mary, like mush-
room ketchup, and those new pick-me-up sauces."
" You are an aesthetical gourmand, sir, whether
you know it or not. However, I'll treat you better
than you deserve. And pray don't try and turn
over the leaves. I shall be in an agony if you do,
your fingers are so large and "
" Oh, I say, thanks ! "
Then Mary began to sing. She had an excellent,
clear voice, of good compass, and it was high testi-
mony to her talent that Uncle Foster went fast asleep
ere she had been singing for two minutes, and her
Cousin Sam's mouth opened like an oyster as he
watched her closely.
Constance and Virginia sat at the other end of the
room, near the window. Virginia was very animated.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had acquired a
most becoming brilliancy. " What a shame," thought
"family graces stripped bare." 85
Miss Lydham, " that Uncle Foster should allow so
lovely a flower to ruin itself in an unnatural atmo-
sphere ! " Her native simplicity had become coated
with an opaque layer of effrontery, which none but
the least prejudiced of those who came in contact
with her were likely to penetrate.
"Why did you not keep up your music?" she
asked of the girl, during a pause in Mary's playing.
" Why ? Oh, it was well enough at first; but I
guess the world ain't worked by music."
" Perhaps not; but what have you to do with the
working of the world, my dear? "
Virginia looked very strangely surprised, and her
beautiful eyes opened widely. " Well, I don't know,
Cousin Constance," she said ; " but I did think you
knew we weren't such a set of mumps over there as
you here. I guess we women can oil the wheels if
we can't make the machinery, and that's something,
considering."
" Yes, I see all the nobility of your purposes ; but
do you not think, dear, that there is a higher end for
women to strive for ? It's all right enough that men
should attend to the machinery of life, as you call
it; but the men themselves want attending to.
You've no idea what helpless creatures they are,
dear ; and don't you think it a nobler destiny to
take care of man than machinery ? "
" Jinks ! " said Virginia, with a start, " that's a
notion, Cousin Constance, and, if you don't copy-
right it, I'll turn it into something good."
" Oh, do as you please, Virginia; but do also
think of the idea itself as well as the ideas suggested
by the idea."
86
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"Well, I will, Cousin Constance, just to pay you
out. But, if you'll take my opinion neat, it's this :
Men and women were all alike at first—all as strong
as each other ; no man a cent more knowing than
any woman ; and all as handsome as each other.
That's the pre-Adamic epoch, you know. Then they
all 'died, somehow, and God re-peopled the earth,
creating Adam, and making Eve from a rib, which
was to show that Eve had to play second fiddle to
Adam for a good spell; and all other women to
other men. That's the post-Adamic epoch. Now
there's a last one, on which we're entering—a sort
of cycle, you know, which runs us back again into
the old sort of life, but under civilised conditions. And
I stick it up as the duty of all women to do (their
little best' to bring such things about."
" Bless you, child," said Miss Lydham. " What a
preposterous and heterodox fancy! However did
you get hold of it ? "
" I dreamed it one night, and put it in print the
next day, in the Dream Corner, and it had such a
good look in print, that I thought it out into form,
and adopted it."
"Dream corner?"
" Yes, we give a corner for dreams, and a corner
for poems. When I was young, I filled both corners
for weeks on end—all home made. But after I had
the fever it raked me too hard to work dreams and
poems as well, so I dropped the dreams. Now, I've
stopped the poems too, and do nothing but' leaders.'
It's a mere diversion of the imaginative powers."
"Enfant terrible/" said Constance, smiling.
" Are the native poems good, any of them ? "
"FAMILY GRACES STRIPPED BARE."
87
" They're good sounding mouthfuls, most, but
some of them are skinny enough."
" Do you remember any—-just as a sample? "
" Yes, there's one I can't kick out of my mind.
It's always coming in and repeating itself in church
and other solemn places. The poor chap who wrote
it intended to go on with the tale next week, but he
died, so we called the one verse a torso. This is it:
' Punctured and pricked, all bleeding and gory,
Quaking and aching with pain,
Wounded, ah, sore ! again and again,
So that no inch of it well does remain ;
Oh, list to the heart's sad story :'
o,
He called it " The Sick Heart,"%nd it made a bit
of a sensation. But we neve^ *ad the story, you
see, though the beginning promised well, didn't it ?"
" Horrible ! " said Miss Lydham. " Just like a
butcher's block ! I can see the heart hanging up for
sale! "
" Oh, Cousin Constance, don't you talk about
feeling the creeps. I'm all rippling with tickles
over that heart of yours. It beats Mark Johnson's
out and out."
" It's not good poetry, even apart from the
subject," said Miss Lydham.
"Oh, that don't signify. There's no finnikin scholars
at Timoleonopolis. They mostly like a word that
sticks in the throat; and don't go reading dictionaries
all day to find out mistakes like your British
critics."
" What is the industry of Timoleonopolis ? "
" Oh, everything nearly ; but soap and petroleum
chiefly. We stink abominably, and that's a fact.
88
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
They say they can smell us fifty miles off, but that's
not true. Anyhow, we have as fine an assortment of
smells as any town or city in the States ; and I hold
that to be something."
" Something, certainly ; but nothing very en-
viable, I think. Do you ever have time to think of
such a feeling as love, my dear ? "
A sudden change was visible in the girl's face.
The eager look of unreserve faded out, and a shrewd
and knowing expression succeeded it. Miss Lydham
thought that it made * ir quite ugly.
"Well," said Vir ffa. "I guess I don't go in
for bitters and blan1 ; dl the days of my life."
Constance smiled^ 'T|
" I am glad of^yf my dear," she said. " If a
woman is without love, she is without that which
enables her to support all the trials of life without
flinching, and to pass through them successfully."
" I don't know about that," said Virginia. " But
I do know that I mostly like men as much as I hate
women."
" Hush, my dear. Don't say such a thing. Be-
sides, it can't be true."
" All the same, it's Gospel true."
" And are there any—I mean, is there any one
happy man in particular whom you love ? "
" Lord ! Cousin Constance. If they're young and
good-featured, I like them all. And if they say
anything to me, I don't take offence, but can break
bones with the best of them."
" What do you mean, my dear? "
" I mean this—if they like to say sugar-plummy
^ hings about my eyes and ears and nose and all the
FAMILY GRACES STRIPPED BARE."
89
rest of it, why, I can give them back at least as
good about their own."
" My dear girl, you are jesting ! "
"Jesting! Not I, Cousin Constance. All my
jests bring me in a dollar apiece. I don't jest in com-
pany—not I! But it's a fact, what I say. It pays
too. They like it just as well as we do, and they
haven't a morsel more right to take liberties with us
than us with they."
" I see. Well, of course, if you can preserve such
Platonic relationships in reality, it's not so bad as it
seems. But, nevertheless, I think it very dangerous."
" Don't think it, ma'm. It's good larks, and makes
us all gassy, boys and girls alike. And that's half
the secret of our writings, do you see ?"
" My dear, I see I shall learn more from you than
you probably from me. But for the present I won't
bother you with any more questions. Listen to
Mary's playing. It's considered good. I can't play
anything like as well."
" Thank you, Cousin Constance ! I guess you'll
be thinking me a moke if I go asleep; but it won't
be the music's fault if I don't."
CHAPTER XII.
" What tales could an old, old church but tell,
If it had a tongue instead of a bell! "
" And how did you get on at Aunt Isabel's ?"
asked Miss Lydham at breakfast the following morn-
ing. " She is a dear old soul, but I could die with
laughing to think how you would agitate her."
" It was precious rum," said Sam, laughing.
Uncle Foster also laughed, mostly internally, and
Virginia looked wickedly merry.
" She is so unused to modern society, you know.
I don't believe she receives any visitors not as old as
herself, as a rule."
" Ah, then, maybe it was a thought bold not to
give her the chance of refusing to take us in—eh,
my dear? " asked Uncle Foster.
"It was a master-stroke in you to behave as you
did. How did she amuse you ? "
" Oh, gracious ! " said Virginia, putting her
pocket-handkerchief to her face to smother her
laughter. With the instinct of an old Greek sculptor,
she felt it was not desirable that she should show her
face when convulsed with i the expression of strong
feeling.
" Glory ! " said Sam. " Would you believe it, she
sent over the way somewhere for a worthy lady of the
time of the Ark to teach Virginia how to make
things they called ' samplers'—in the style of the
year one! "
" WHAT TALES," ETC.
91
"Just what 1 should have expected," said Miss
Lydham. " And what did Virginia do ? "
" Oh, she's a smart girl, Cousin Constance. You
bet she didn't wait for an opportunity. That evening,
upstairs, she sketched the virgin to a T. Not an
angle in her she didn't bring to the fore. I guess
there'll be some burstings in Timoleonopolis when it
comes out. She's going to be headed ' A pre-
Noarchic Gentlewoman.' "
" She hadn't a tooth to her name," interposed
Virginia, choking with laughter, "except one in
front, which stuck out like a sundial pointer."
" And did you learn the art of sampling ? " asked
Mary.
" Oh, no ! I said ' Yes,' and 1 No,' turn and turn
about, while I was quizzing her pimples and her
wig. She wouldn't know herself in the 1 Gazette '—
that's a fact—she's so downright catalogued."
" And what, besides the samplers ? What did you
and uncle do, Sam? " asked Miss Lydham.
"Well, the old lady gave father a long talking to
about the wickedness of a certain Prince Regent
—whoever he might be, and said that Byron was a
much-maligned man: to neither of which points
father had much objection. Then she rang for Betsy,
the maid-servant, to bring a heap of old picture-
books: Illustrated London Neios and Graphics—and a
backgdmmon board ; and we had our own choice.
Oh, Washington ! to see father's face when I jumped
at the pictures, and left him to sit out the draughts
with the old girl. Wasn't it good, Virginia ? "
" Oh, yes ! Just like a play. Her silk dress
rustled like a forest in fall time when the leaves are
92
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
all tumbling. And to see her wag her head when a
sneeze seized her ! 0, ginger! "
" Yes," said Sam. "We gave her a cold strong
enough to last the year out by not shutting the doors
when we came in. She would never trouble us, how-
ever, but always rang up one of those unfortunate
Mary Anns, and made her do it."
" Nor she wouldn't so much as put a coal on the
stove with her own fingers," continued Yirginia,
impetuously. " 1 Would you oblige an old woman by
pulling that there rope,' she would say, as gingerly as if
she were sitting on a boiler, and when we had pulled
it, up would come another Mary Ann, with a buttery :
' Did you please to ring, ma'm ?' ' Yes, Mary Ann,'
she would say. ' Will you be so kind as to attend to
the fire ?' ' Yes, ma'm," said Mary Ann. ' I thank
you, Mary Ann.' And then Mary Ann would do it
without a pin's worth of noise, and slip out again
without any one's knowing."
" And did you do samplers every night, Virginia? "
" I did not, ma'm, believe me. It wasn't in human
nature to sit facing that sundial-face of a tooth for
more evenings than one."
" Why ? wasn't she pleasant ? "
" Pleasant! I don't know. She told me she had
eighteen shillings and threepence a week for life to
live on. And then I told her that I got a good deal
more than double that for my own pocket a day. I
reckon it upset her somewhat, for she didn't 'my dear '
me any more afterwards. It was ' Miss Foster' this
and ' Miss Foster' that till I went off to sleep under
her nose—on purpose."
"Oh, cruel Virginia !" said Mary.
"WHAT TALES," ETC.
93
A ring at the door bell made both the sisters look
at the clock. It was time for them to get ready for
school.
" I do hope you will not be tired to death by your-
selves," said Miss Lydham.
'What did you say we were to do ? " asked Sam.
" Oh, I leave that to you. Do what you please.
Call on Miss Spout, if you like, or Captain Pinchard;
or buy some things in Long Street, and thus gain
the goodwill of the natives; or walk out past the
bridge to the boundary of Lord Lumsey's park,
or—but there is plenty to do, and if all else fail, you
shall have some novels to read."
Two minutes later the Americans were left to
themselves. Having sat for a short time over the
fragments of breakfast, Uncle Foster and [Sam
agreed to go out, and, if need be, walk to the nearest
town to get the London papers. As Uncle Foster
said : they might as well be on the prairie as in
Borton for all they heard of the events of the day.
Virginia would have accompanied them only she felt
a little tired. Besides, she wished to elaborate a
stinging column of letter-press, which she had
already sketched in outline. She was deep in
thought, with her hand supporting her cheek, and
her eves fixed on the window, where a number of
V '
flies were disporting themselves, when someone
entered the room. It was only Martha, who wanted
to clear the table, but she disturbed the girl very
effectually.
" Oh, it's you, is it? " said Virginia. " You seem
pretty thick with bugs here ! "
Martha's eyes looked ready to start from her head.
94
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
She stood still by the sideboard, and trembled with
agitation, as she said, " I beg your pardon, miss ? "
" Oh, I only said you're pretty well black with
bugs in this place ! "
" Good Lord forbid, miss," exclaimed Martha,
solemnly, when she got her breath. " I've lived in
this house for twenty-five year on end, and I've never
seen no such thing here, except one, a foreigner, and I
knew his pedigree pretty quick ; and, please God, I
never will see another till I'm in my coffin-lid."
Virginia looked at Martha as she might have looked
at a curiosity of the time of the first Pharoah. " Oh,
well," said she, " our Maker sends us those afflictions
that suit us best. I'm glad I'm not so short-sighted,
anyway."
" You must be mistaken, miss," said Martha ; and,
she added, " whatever I might think, it ain't for me
to speak it."
But, once in her own kitchen, Martha spoke her
mind without restraint. She indulged in soliloquy
such as would have gained her immortal fame on the
boards of many a theatre, accompanied, as the mono-
logue was, by very appropriate and telling dramatic
action. She fractured a few dishes, broke an egg
into the fire instead of a basin, and was only finally
consoled by the reflection that she had gained a signal
victory over herself, in that she had not said to the
American girl what her temper had prompted her to
say, in rejoinder.
Whether it was due to the change of scene, or the
interruption caused by Martha, Virginia found she
could not write with anything like fluency. The
words came hard, and even then did not associate
"WHAT TALES," ETC.
95
well. Under these circumstances, one of two things
had to he done. Either she must sit firmly until her
thoughts had reshaken themselves into argumenta-
tive power, or she must lay down the pen for a time.
Accomplished and experienced writer that she was,
she knew how greatly the " elan" of an article
secures its success. Ordinary people—and the inhabi-
tants of Timoleonopolis were most ordinary—do not
stop to verify statements, to follow inferences, and to
weigh conclusions. They like something forcible or
keen : something to rap their brains, or transfix
them ; and for both these kinds of writing a special
frame of mind is required. Virginia found that she
could be neither strong nor incisive. Moreover, she
was restless, due, no doubt, to change of air. There-
fore, she put the paper away, wiped the pen care-
fully, glanced at the heads of her article, so that she
might re-consider them at her leisure, ran her fingers
through her hair, looked at herself in the glass, full
face and profile, smoothed a few wrinkles in her
dress at the shoulder, and, putting on her hat there
and then, without troubling to go upstairs, sallied
forth to take the air of Borton, to see and be seen.
She stepped into the street lightly yet firmly, and, to
all appearances, heedless of everything, tripped along
the pavement towards the Long. Her face was
bright, and her eyes looked straight before her. She
did not pause when she reached the Long, but, cross-
ing the road, walked deliberately towards the church.
It was natural that she should make for this, the sole
pride of Borton.
The church was an old black building, with one
rq.ain tower, and a body from which rose numerous
96
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
little towers, surmounted by miniature spires in
seeming emulation of the big tower. There was a
glorious east window which occupied the whole space
allotted to that end of the church ; and this window
was so divided and subdivided by stone ribs and lines
as to suggest to a reflective observer that a group of
forest trees, rising clear as to the trunk, but with the
upper branches all intermixed, had formed its proto-
type. Round about the church were the graves of
the dead people of Borton. Persevering and keen-
sighted antiquaries, pedigree hunters and others,
might have been able to decipher the inscriptions on
tombs, dating from the middle of the seventeenth
century. There were low stones, mostly of a pinkish
material, with a profusion of green moss about their
bases. Puff-cheeked babes, with wings but no bodies,
blew at each other over the records of some of these
two-century-old dead. Angels, with their faces worn
flat by the friction of decades of years, extended
hands, or the. semblance of hands, over the names of
others. And yet others again bore over them the
chilling insignia of mortality and death : the sceptre,
the hour-glass, and the hollow skull. Such were the
oldest of the tombs in Borton churchyard. Then
there were groups of huge vault stones—some
as sober and as devoid of ornament as the simpler
of Euclid's parallelograms ; some with gigantic
scrolls of stone over them, or graven on the side,
bearing the catalogue of their contents ; and some,
again, were top-heavy with images of weeping
women, monumental urns, truncated columns, and
canopied nothings. These were the more modern
symbolisms of death. Of the many mounds sur-
"WHAT TALES," ETC.
97
mounted by nothing more beautiful than the green
blades of grass, we will say nothing : they were
the mute memorials of the unrecorded dead. The
naked body of a shipwrecked sailor may be washed
to shore by the side of the bedizened and bejewelled
corpse of a millionaire's widow ; but, if there be any
pathos in the matter, the naked mariner is the occa-
sion of it, not the jewelled woman.
Virginia walked up to the tall iron gate which
separated the church porch from the little close
surrounding the churchyard, and, pushing it inwards,
she entered.
Timoleonopolis had no such building as this.
Virginia, while looking at it, did not believe that
there was such an one in the whole Continent of
America. While they were with Aunt Isabel, near
London, they had seen nothing. It was inconvenient
to play the tourist from her house, so they had
determined to postpone viewing the cathedrals and
remarkable buildings of the. metropolis until they
could plunge into the delights of sight-seeing
unrestrainedly. Therefore, this was really the first
old Gothic pile Virginia had ever seen.
Now Virginia was practical, even among practical
men. Few men or women could gauge better than
she the merits and demerits of a new municipal
movement, or discern more evenly the position of
a Congress candidate. She had the soap and
petroleum markets at her fingers' ends. She knew
the ins and outs of stock-brokering, and the broker-
ing of other materials than stocks. She knew how
and where, for a hundred miles round, the vicinity of
Timoleonopolis was adapted for the laying down of
H
98
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
railways ; and could give a tolerable guess at the
population this time next year of a city that had but
just set up its first drinking saloon. Yet, in addition
to all these manly qualifications, Virginia had a
woman's nature. She would cry over a kitten
which the naughty boys of Timoleonopolis had
chased down Aaron Burr Street with a dead rat
at its tail. She would water the foolscap with her
tears the while she wrote a scathing denunciation of
architects and builders, on account of the collapse
of a bridge, and the consequent death, " with harrow-
ing details," of scores of helpless men, women, and
children. She would kiss and fondle the little
orphans in the Timoleonopolis Orphanage, when she
made her annual inspection of the building, in order
to report to the good people of Timoleonopolis how
the institution was conducted. A full moon could
fill her with tender aspirations, and make her young
heart throb in a way quite inexplicable to herself—
in spite of her dictionaries and encyclopedias. The
music of a regimental band could stir her inmost soul,
and bring tears of mysterious rapture into her eyes.
And, lastly, a noble work of art, like the parish
church of Borton, had a power over her which she
felt as a new experience, and which she could no more
understand than she could understand the influence
exercised over her by music and the moon. She
stood by the side of the tomb of a certain " John
Janson, longtime faithful servitor to Lord Lumsey,
by whom this stone is erected to perpetuate to
posterity the virtues that may co-exist with lowly
estate, and which found remarkable illustration in
the person of John Janson, who died in his nine*
"what tales," etc.
99
tieth year," and, leaning her arm on the old
retainer's monument, she took into her soul all the
eloquence so divinely communicated by the dumb
chiselled fabric before her.
It was a clear, warm day after the rain, and the
swallows that skimmed across the blue of the sky,
round about the church, seemed feverish with
happiness. They screamed in bursts ever and anon
when they came together; and Virginia dimly
thought that they reserved their screams until they
found themselves over her head. A white-headed
old man was cutting the grass in that corner of the
churchyard where there were fewest mounds, and
where not a single stone stood up to mar the green ;
and, to Virginia, the swish of his scythe was a
rhythmic accompaniment to the screech of the
swallows. Behind her, where she stood facing the
church, was the narrow street, which connected
the church with the Long Street, and round about
the churchward rose a number of small but verv
v J
genteel houses, mostly in their own grounds, and at
least semi-detached, which might be said to re-
present the May fair or Belgravia of Borton. Had
she looked a little to the west of the church,
Virginia might have seen the wonderfully crooked
chimneys of the vicarage. As a matter of fact,
however, she would not have heeded them if she
had seen them. She was deeply interested in the
beautiful old church, and was conscious of nothing
else.
It happened that Mr. Warmington, the curate,
went to his window to inhale a breath of air while the
American girl was thus standing " fixed in content
100
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
plation." And, as the window commanded a view of
the church and the churchyard, including that part
where Virginia stood, he could not help seeing her.
He had a quick eye for beauty and effect, and imme-
diately wondered as to the personality of this girl, so
motionless and so very graceful an addition to the
familiar prospect. And then, though not as curious
as most men, and therefore far less so than any
woman, he determined to go out to her : if she were
a stranger, he might be of service, for, of course, he
knew all that was known about Borton and its church.
It was an act of pure civility in him, no more, no
less.
Virginia was so transported by the fancies she had
woven around the building before her, that she did
not hear Mr. Warmington's footsteps as he walked
measuredly over the flags, and his voice was the first
notice of his presence that reached her.
" Good morning," said the curate, raising his
hat. But he quickly begged her pardon when he
saw her start nervously. " I ought not to have dis-
turbed you," he added, smiling in a friendly and
encouraging way ; " but I thought you might like
to know the history of the old church."
Virginia had been startled into a very remarkable
thing for her—a blush. The blood had gone to her
cheeks, as it will go, despite ourselves, now and again
in a lifetime. However, in her case, it made atone-
ment for its misconduct by retiring with almost
equal rapidity. The transition was so sharp that she
trembled as she briefly thanked the curate.
" You are a stranger?" he asked.
" Yes ; I wished to have a look at it, so I just
"WHAT TALES," ETC.
101
came." The girl was recovering her self-possession
momentarily. Perhaps she felt that she owed herself
some apology for her recent loss of confidence.
" Then step this way, if you please," said the curate.
"I will show you the interior first, and afterwards
you can walk through the grass, and see the exterior
from all sides."
" Is there anything in it that ain't in other
churches ?"
" If you like effigies, there are some famous old
ones of the time of Elizabeth, and even earlier."
"Effigies!—tombs, ain't they? Thank you, I
think I'd like them."
" Then wait a moment, and I will fetch the keys."
While he was away, she thought about him. He
was probably the vicar. At any rate, he was old
enough ; for he had as many wrinkles, aye, as many
again as her father; and her father had lived hard
for many years of his life. Anyhow, it was kind
of the vicar, if vicar he was, to take so much trouble
with her; and the smile with which she greeted
Mr. Warmington on his return was none the less
sweet that it was such as she gave to her father on
very rare domestic occasions.
" What a beautiful creature! " thought the
curate, as he looked at her.
" May I believe you are one of Miss Lydham's
American friends ?" he asked.
"You may."
" Ah ! I thought it. I could almost envy you your
enjoyment of England. You do enjoy it, do you not? "
" Oh, pretty well, so far. There's lots to see yet.
But I've never seen a room like this before, never! "
102
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
And she turned her face towards the heavy carved
beams in the roof, and then eastwards where the
chancel end of the church was illumined by the slant
beams which the sun shot through the stained
windows. " It's just awfully pretty."
Mr. Warmington did his self-imposed task con-
scientiously. He pointed out the ill-mannered imps,
angels, monks, and old men and women, whose faces
leered or smiled from the tops of the pillars separating
the aisles and the transepts. He explained the hiero-
glyphic carving on the Saxon font, and interpreted
the old English and Latin inscriptions on the various
tombs about the church. He sketched the life of Sir
John Buncher, a political celebrity of the time of
Elizabeth, who sat in a niche, with a remarkable ruff
round his neck. He discoursed on old glass, and, to
her own surprise, made Virginia acknowledge that
the few meaningless fragments that had come origi-
nally from Rouen were far more beautiful than the
thin-coloured, hut flaring modern glass with which
three or four windows were filled. He played a hymn
tune on the organ, that she might judge of the effect,
and afterwards invited her to try her own hand on the
keys. He led her into the Vestry, and showed her
the thick leather and brass bound black-edge'd register
of births, marriages, and deaths, which dated from
1550 ; and they both smiled as he pointed out how,
in former days, the birth of a boy-child was registered
as that of a "man child," and how fond was the
parish clerk or parson of the late seventeenth century
of balancing his or the church's cash every week,
after the latest entry in the book. He opened the
great iron-clamped chest that had stood by the belfry
"WHAT TALES," ETC.
103
door for centuries, and showed her the marks of blows
and gashes—the work of the Commonwealth men,
who found the old box too strong for them. And, to
crown all, he led her up the dark, well-worn stone
steps into the belfry, and on to the roof of the tower
itself, where they stood by the pinnacled parapet,
with the wind blowing in their faces, and all Borton
seemingly asleep at their feet.
"Are you as tired as you look, Miss Foster ? " he
asked her.
" How should I know?" said she. "But I know
it's jolly fun, and I wouldn't have missed it for a
good deal."
" I'm so glad," he said.
" What's that great old house, with a white face,
all among the trees, on yon hill ? " she asked.
" That! It's Lord Lumsey's seat. You were
leaning on the stone over one of his servants—
honest John—when I interrupted your reverie."
" Oh, was I ? I didn't know. That's a fine place,
ain't it ? And have they any curiosities, relics, and
that kind of thing? "
" Indeed, they have. You know—or you must be told
—that Charles I. slept there during the war one night.
By-the-by, he slept in a good many places, if report
is to be believed. But he did sleep here, undoubtedly;
and they show the very bed he slept in, the sword he
left behind him, a prayer-book with his autograph, and
a pair of leathern gloves he wore at Edgehill, I think."
" Oh, then, we'll have a prime poke there, all of us.
Don't you like those sort of places—I mean, with all
such tales and fancies nailed on to them, ready-made
like ? "
104
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" I understand you," said the curate, smiling. " I
think the associations of a place make half its charm."
" We've nothing of that, you know."
" Of course not—that is, nothing civilised people
sympathise with. Your big continent would be to
me like a great unfurnished house. Give me my
little cosy home with its authenticated history of
fifteen hundred years or so, and I am happier than I
should be as a rich man in America."
" Ah, you don't know, mister. There's a deal of
1 go' in the States that makes up for all this sleepy
looking back. But, Moses ! what a banging! "
" Yes. It's the clock."
" Then I guess it's time for me to strike too. I'm
wonderfully obliged to you, I am, indeed. You've
been really as good as a guide-book."
" Thank you. May I have the pleasure of shaking
hands with you, Miss Foster?"
" 0 lor, yes. Here you are ; and, as I said before,
I'm downright grateful to you. Good morning."
" Ho; he can't be the vicar," she reflected. " Else
he would not be carrying that great key all by him-
self. He would be having one of those fat parties in
gold-laced hats and tall sticks to carry it for him.
Besides, he talks like a common man. I guess he's a
curate. Poor chap, how old he is, to be sure! "
" I never saw such a beautiful creature," said Mr.
Warmington to himself as he sat down before his
papers, and tried to re-gather his disturbed thoughts.
" But I quite expected she would offer me a dollar
for my pains. If she had, it would have gone into
the poor-box under her nose. What a nose for
Praxiteles, to be sure ! "
CHAPTER XIII.
ui'll turn teacher, and be a scholar again."
When Virginia reached Heather Street, she found
that her father and brother had not yet returned
from Houghton. The attraction of town bustle and
life had no doubt proved very strong for them ; pos-
sibly they had met with some American friends, or
Americans who were not friends, but simply com-
patriots ; and in either case they were not likely to
part from them with a mere shake of the hand. Now,
Virginia was not a girl of very many resources
apart from the business of her life. She could work
well, but the art of play she knew too little about.
She would rather have a bundle of papers and reports
before her to digest and comment on than be turned
loose on an afternoon, with nothing positive to occupy
the time. Thus, it was not so very unnatural that she
should yawn when she had sat in the drawing-room
for a few minutes, -with her hands before her. Morris's
" Earthly Paradise " was on the table, but she did not
find it to her taste. Dore's illustrations of Dante,
also there, put her in a see-saw of sensation, which
was not so pleasing to her as it would have been to
some people. A few other books, resplendent in
colour and gilding, a magazine, and a Church Times
completed the drawing-room collection of literature.
But she did not care for any of the books or papers.
Mary Lydham entered the room opportunely.
" My dear Virginia, I'm so afraid you are dull! "
106
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Well, I never tell lies," said Virginia, smiling,
but not rising from her chair. " I've been seeing
that black old church."
" Oh, I'm so glad. It's a lovely old building. But
what should you like to do now till the others come
back ? They ought not to have staid away so long."
" Oh, I don't care. I think I'll walk and see that
lord's house—Lord Clumsy, is it ? "
" No, you treasonable child—Lumsey!" said Mary, .
laughing. " But you can't go there now, and by
yourself. It's too far. Besides, his lordship is at
home."
" And he wouldn't let me see his house ?"
" Well, he might, as a personal favour. But the
Hall is only ' on show' when he is away."
" That's greedy, ain't it? "
" You may think it, but we don't. It's his own
house, and he can do as he pleases. But—I've an
idea, Virginia. Give some of our boys and girls a
lesson, will you ? "
" Oh, Good Mercy! Cousin Mary. What an
idea!"
" It would amuse you. They are all well-behaved
little mortals."
" Yes, but I don't know enough—else, perhaps, I
wouldn't mind it. It would be rather a joke,
indeed."
" Then you shall have half a dozen of the best-
behaved of whichever sex you like best."
" Suppose they laugh at me! " said Virginia,
putting her face between her hands. " I'd rather
they were men than boys."
" Then you shall have my six best boys, Virginia,
" i'll turn teacher, and be a scholar again." 107
dear, and they shall bring their geography books ;
you can tell them about America—should you like
that?"
" Well, I'll have a go," said Virginia. " But they .
won't be naughty up here, will they ? "
" Heavens ! I should think not, indeed."
Mary left the room, and soon returned with six of
the boys. " Here they are," said she. " This is
Charlie Topham, my best boy. This, Edward Smart,
my—well, I won't say my worst, because he's im-
proving fast. This is Caesar Moggs, who, by-the-
by, has a paternal grandmother in Carolina. This is
Willie Barlow; this, Sammy Jones; and this, Charlie
Fulcher. Now, boys, each of you get a chair, and
then sit round my cousin, Miss Foster, who has most
kindly offered to teach you something."
There was a smart turning in this direction and
that in search of chairs ; a tussle between Caesar
Moggs and Edward Smart, who both laid hands on
the same chair, ending in the discomfiture of Caesar,
and then the boys sat with bright, expectant eyes,
awaiting the progress of events. Charlie Topham's
spectacles caught the light very brilliantly, so that
Virginia was almost dazzled when she looked at him.
" They look so mighty knowing, all of them,"
she whispered.
" Oh, but—" said Mary, speaking out loud, for
the enlightenment of the pupils—" they are none of
them a tenth part as wise as they look—except, per-
haps," she added, with a kindly smile, turning to the
head boy, " Charlie Topham, who is much cleverer
than you would suppose."
There was an old feud between Smart and Topham,
108
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
and nothing tickled Smart so much as an allusion to
the plainness of Topham. He covered his face with
his hands when Mary said this about the incongruity
of Charlie Topham's looks and talents, and giggled
spasmodically under his hands.
"What's he laughing at?" asked Virginia, sus-
piciously.
"Edward Smart," said Mary, "come here, and tell
Miss Foster what is amusing you, and tell the truth,
too."
Smart approached Virginia's knees, and stood with
his hands behind him examining her very coolly,
but vouchsafing no reply to his schoolmistress's
commands.
"Was it me you were laughing at?" asked
Virginia, at length.
" No, that it wasn't," said he. " It was Charlie,
Miss Mary," he added, in a fit of candour.
" Oh, Miss Mary ! " cried the maligned Charlie.
" I didn't do anything at all, indeed, I didn't! " And
his spectacles slid from his nose on to the floor, in
the heat of his asseveration.
" Go back, Edward Smart," said Mary. " I see
how it is. And you will write out in text-hand,
'We should never laugh at those who are ugly,'
fifty times, by to-morrow."
Edward's face fell, and glee shone in the eyes of
Topham.
" And please send any of them out of the room at
once, Virginia, dear, if they make themselves at all
objectionable. You hear, boys?" With which
parting admonition Miss Mary left the room.
Keeping school was not altogether the sort of
" i'll turn teacher, and be a scholar again." 109
holiday task that Virginia would have chosen for
herself if the necessity of one had been imposed on
her. Men and women were comprehensible beings ;
but there was no knowing anything about the nature
of boys. So, for a few seconds, the new teacher
looked rather fearfully at the six boys, and the six
boys looked inquiringly at her, and nothing was said
on either side. If Virginia had not been an object
so well worth looking at, it is unlikely the boys
would have kept still for two consecutive seconds.
But it was necessary to make a move of some kind.
" 'Pon my word, I don't know what to do with
you, now I've got you here," she said, but laughing,
in spite of herself, and therefore bringing smiles to
the ever ready lips of the boys. " What shall I ask
vou?"
«/
" We have our geography books with us, ready to
be questioned in," observed Topham, solemnly,
handing his own book to Virginia.
" Oh, you have; Avell, that's a blessing ! What
do they call you at home ? "
"Me?" said Charlie, opening his mouth for the
" me," and keeping it open (with surprise at such an
uninstructive question) for a moment or two, before
he proceeded to say : " Why, Charlie, of course."
" Yes, yes ; but what else ? "
" Oh ! my surname—it's Topham."
"So! And you're top of the class, ain't you?"
Charlie nodded self-sufficiently.
" Then perhaps you can tell the other little chaps
where Timoleonopolis is ? That's the city I was
born in."
"If you please, where?" said Topham, politely
110
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
screwing his right ear to the front; and, after a quick
gasp or two, the other five little boys extended their
ears also.
" Timoleonopolis. Where is it, now? "
Edward Smart took a deep-sounding breath, and
then seemed to be blowing an invisible soap-bubble
through the air.
" If you please, I never heard of such a place. It
isn't in our books," said Topham.
"Well, I was born there, anyhow," said Virginia,
smiling in a way that quite melted the learning out
of Topham's brain, and filled him instead with most
unaccountable sensations.
" Does any other lad know ? If so, he can go top,
over Topham."
No, they all shook their heads, including Edward
Smart, when he had let loose a gush of mild laughter
at the little joke about Topham.
"Well, I'm blest!" said Virginia. "But, I say,
boys, ain't geography dull stuff? You should see the
places, not read about them, eh? What do you
say?"
There was perfect unanimity among the six. Even
Topham, who had been tempted to demur to the
awful libel on the character of geography as a study,
agreed that it would be much nicer to visit towns,
lakes, rivers, and hills, than merely learn their names.
"And history," said Virginia, warming to her
work; " wouldn't you rather, by a mile or two, be
fighting in the battles, with helmets on your heads,
and feathers sticking up at the top, than reading
those long words about1 battalions ' and 'bivouacs,'
'fortifications,' ' falchions,' and 'treason? ' "
"i'll turn teacher, and be a scholar again." Ill
" Oh, yes," cried the boys. Nor could Topham
get in a word on behalf of the simplicity of " bat-
talion," &c., all which words he was ready to spell or
define off-hand.
" And arithmetic, too ! Awful stuff I thought it, I
remember—that's a fact. Which of you wouldn't
rather be chinking his cents and dollars—I mean his
pounds, shillings, and pence—in his own bit of a
pocket, than be adding them up on paper ? Suppose,
for instance, I set you a sum three feet long to add
up, and gave you the choice of doing this or spending
sixpence, and seeing how much you could get for the
money, which would you rather do ? "
" Spend the sixpence," said they all.
" I should just think so," said Virginia. " Well,
I tell you what 111 do. I won't ask you anything in
geography, nor history, nor any of those rumfisticated
' ologies'; but I'll tell you something how the boys
and girls live in the part of the world I come from.
It's thousands of miles away from here. Shall I ? "
" Oh, yes, please ! " from them all. Topham had
pricked up his ears at "rumfisticated ologies," hoping
he might be asked to spell the compound word, which
was new to him. But he consoled his vanity at the
expense of his greed for new knowledge.
So, after much fidgeting and settling down, much
gentle smacking of lips, much common congratula-
tion over the turn of affairs, the six little boys fixed
themselves firmly, their eyes sparkling with avidity
and interest, and their mouths open. This lesson of
their's promised to be as good as a dissolving view
exhibition, and infinitely better than the conjuring
show at the Sunday school the other week, although
112
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
the magician's assistant did get blown bodily into
the air, from sitting down on a sufficiency of explosive.
Virginia thought her audience a very encouraging
one. She liked the look of these English boys, and
for the moment felt inspired to scribble off an article
on the efficacy of good manners and bright faces, as
stimulants for intellectual exertion. From this, how-
ever, she refrained, and began to collect her ideas for
the work she had in hand. She told them of the
great leg-of-mutton continent separated from England
by millions and millions of waves of sea; of the
Indians who once had it to themselves; of the
Spaniards who, first among Europeans, got a firm
footing in it, and of the wonderful Mexican people
whom they robbed and ousted ; of the worthy old
sixteenth and seventeenth century Puritans, who
were fonder of their religion than their country, and,
preferring to be led by their consciences rather than
bend to the unjust decrees of tyrants, emigrated in
heavy wooden ships, whose carved prows and broad
white sails made them look like big swans upon the
water—with their families, and even cows, sheep,
and cocks and hens, that they might make for them-
selves a new home where there were no kings; of the
fighting, among the lakes, and along the rivers—
between the French and the British (as the Americans
were called a hundred and fifty years ago), and of
the fighting of the French and British together
against the Indians ; of the stupidity of a certain
English minister who thought he could tax the
Americans as he pleased, and make them contribute a
share towards expenses with the incurring of which
they had nothing to do, and of the consequent revolt
"i'll turn teacher, and be a scholar again." 113
of the Britishers of America against the British of
Great Britain; of the perseverance and courage of
the great George Washington as a soldier, and of
his abhorrence of telling lies when a little boy like
Topham ; of the manliness of Franklin, who began
life on almost nothing, and died one of the great men
of the earth, leaving behind him a name honourable
among Americans, from generation to generation.
She told them of the vast lakes, covering hundreds of
thousands of miles—where you could be out of sight
of land for days as though you were on a sea ; of the
rivers, miles wide, full of islands and islets—rushing
between rocky gorges and dark green pine woods ;
of the mountains, many times higher than the highest
in England, and the forests of rhododendron wild on
the slope of the hills; of the bears, savage grizzlies,
the buffaloes, panthers, snakes, and the many birds
and animals not to be found in England. And, lastly,
when she had grown animated with her subject, she
told them of the pioneers of modern civilisation ; of
the magnificent cities growing up like mushrooms all
over the enormous surface of the country; of the
thousands of ships in the harbours up and down the
coasts, east and west; of the emigrants from all parts
of the world drawn by hundreds daily to the kind
shores of this most hospitable continent; of the
healthy out-door life of the settler—of his work with
the axe, first of all, then with the plough, then with
his farm stocked with animals, and his lands rich with
grain and fruit trees, until, in the course of years (if
he were the honest, industrious man he ought to be),
he finds he has more money than he can spend, and so
looks about him to see how he can glorify his Maker
i
114 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
by devoting some of his wealth to the bettering of
. those of his fellow-creatures who, from one cause or
another, are as poor and miserable as he is rich and
happy. She knew her theme was a great one, })ut even
she was surprised to realise how inspiriting it was.
And when she stopped at length to take breath, the
six little boys gave her a delighted murmur of thanks
that would have gone far to make her continue the
talk if she had been able.
"Well," she said, after allowing them a few
moments to collect their ideas—" ain't that a proper
locality to set up shop in ? "
" Oh, yes," said they all.
" And will you all come out to the States when you
grow up into men ? "
" Yes," with equal fervour from four of them.
Topham and Moggs looked ashamed jof themselves,
and said nothing. Topham's father had destined him
for the church, from the time when his sight began to
fail; and Topham himself had been wont to think of
the time when he should stand in a pulpit as other boys
are wont to look forward to the post of the commander-
ship-in-chief of the forces, or admiral, the premiership,
or the woolsack. And Moggs, whose eyes were given
to filling with hot tears on the very smallest, or even
no provocation, had a dim notion that he was not fit
for a settler in a distant land: moreover, he had an
English grandmother (as well as a Carolina one),
but no parents, and he had hitherto believed that his
first duty in life, when he became a man, was to attend
his grandmother until she should be beyond all human
care.
"You're a jolly set of little chaps, then," said
"i'll turn teacher, and be a scholar again." 115'
Virginia, kindling into a fire all the warmth their
young hearts could beget with one of her sweetest
smiles. " And if I could, I'd ship you right off, put
axes in your hands, and bid you cut out your fortunes
clean away."
Never had the six Borton boys heard such eloquence.
If their future had depended on the inclinations of
their hearts during the brief half minute that succeeded
Virginia's last words, they would all have gone abroad
by the next packet. Topham would have thrown his
books and spectacles to the winds ; and Moggs would
have forsaken and forgotten his venerable relation.
But time brings revulsion of feeling.
As it was, however, when the six boys were called
away by Miss Mary, they were one and all enthusiastic
about the new teacher, and willing, if it were possible,
to forego their dinner, to have another lesson from
her lips.
" My dear Virginia," said Mary, " I don't know
what your system is, but you have carried off the
hearts of those boys."
" Oh, have I ? " said Virginia, carelessly. " I
guess I told them a lot of rubbish. I believe they
know as much geography as I do."
" Don't say that, dear ; for I heard Edward Smart
(the idlest of boys) dilating to little Peter Dudding,
who is three years his junior, if a day, about the
beauties of America, and vowing he'll emigrate as
^oon as he is a man; and the others are just as wild."
"Well, that's strange, Cousin Mary, for I didn't
tell them a single name except Timoleonopolis, and
they none of them knew the locality of that, and, now
I think of it, I didn't enlighten them either."
116
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"Yes," said Miss Lydham, who had just dismissed
her girls, to join the boys on their way home. "And
some of my girls have caught the "
" Infection, I reckon, Cousin Constance, ain't it?"
" Infection, for want of a better word, my dear.
Margaret Stibbins, Mary, for once got some light in
her eyes listening to little Barlow. And two or
three of them came to ask if they, too, mightn't hear
about what they called ' the leg-of-mutton continent'
(vulgar little creatures!)."
" Oh, don't ask me, Cousin Constance," said
Virginia. " I hate girls. Boys are manly little
chaps at times. But girls never alter—they're always
girls. Oh, but here's father at last."
CHAPTER XIV.
" in a grove most rich of shade."
The American gentlemen, father and son, had had
a very pleasant morning in Houghton.
" You ought to have come with us," said Sam to
Virginia, at dinner. " I guess you'd have made
something of the ragged urchins we saw all about.
At least ten per cent, of the people are deadheads,
I'll swear, and, what's worse, deadheads less because
they like it than because they've nothing to do—
nobody to hire them."
" There's truth in that," said Miss Lydham.
" But I'm afraid it can't be helped."
"Helped! Cousin Constance!" said Virginia,
sharply. " But it ought to be helped. It's a down-
right waste of the opportunities of Providence.
Some would go so far as to say it's a breaking of two
or three of the commandments ; bat, whether or no,
it's a shame."
" Oh, yes, dear, so it is, if it could be helped,"
said Constance.
" Well, well, we're too old to be the world's advo-
cate," said Uncle Foster. " Let us have some plea-
sure this afternoon, my loves."
" Oh! take us to Lord Clumsy—no, Lumsey's
park, father," exclaimed Virginia. " They say his
house is crowded with things."
" Oh, indeed ! " said Uncle Foster, " Where is it,
my dear? " (turning to Constance),
118
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" It's a good walk from here, uncle. But you will
see the country round, even if his lordship is at home."
" And if he is," said Virginia, " I suppose he won't
be turning us away, after our trouble."
" He'd better, that's all," said Sam. u You and I
will get hold of him, and if we can't bend his back
for him, we're not citizens of the United States, eh?"
" Bravo, children ! " said Uncle Foster. " Yes,
we'll go there, my dears."
" Very well," said Constance. " You will not
«/ '
mind going by yourselves, will you ? The road is so
easy ! And, besides, his lordship is more likely to
stretch a point with perfect strangers than if one of
us, who know his rules, were with you."
When the Americans had set out for Lumsey Park,
Constance Lydham went to put on her own things.
"You are not going after them, Conny?" asked
Mary.
" No, indeed, I am not."
" They enjoy themselves best alone, I think—don't
you ? One doesn't know what to say to them, or do
with them, hardly—except sometimes."
" Oh! I am getting a better opinion of them
hourly—except Virginia. But I confess I don't
understand her one tittle."
" No. She and Sam are great oddities. I can't
bear Sam. Did you see the muslin she put on this
afternoon ? I could see through it, Conny, quite
easily."
" No—could you ? And she asked me, before
dressing, what sort of a man Lord Lumsey was, just
as she might ask about Captain Pinchard, you know,
or the retired butcher next door,"
" IN A GROVE MOST RICH OF SHADE."
119
Almost as a matter of course, Miss Lydham met
Mr. Cathcart before she had gone a hundred paces
up the Long. It was the time of day when the
curate went out, ostensibly to visit sick people,
or to take the air for the benefit of his health.
They were accustomed to meet thus, on an average,
three 01* four times a week, and, except when he
was wanted particularly, the curate generally tried
to lead Constance out of the town into the country
lanes.
" I'm glad I have met you," said the curate, when
they had shaken hands and decided on their route,
the sick people being put into the background for
the nonce.
" And so am I, Will," said Miss Lydham, earnestly.
" Shall we go down Rosemary Road, and by the
Barscombe farm? " asked the curate.
" Oh, by all means. There's such a Great deal to
tell you."
" A great deal! About what ? "
" Oh, our American cousins, of course."
" Ah, yes ! Do you like them ? "
Miss Lydham laughed. " It is too soon to say,
Will. But they are very un-English."
"Yes. That might be to their credit, you know."
"It might. But I don't think I mean it to be,"
and Miss Lydham looked intelligibly into the young
man's eyes.
" Oh, Miss Lydham ! you are such a profound reader
of character. Borton is a terrible place for giving
ladies ability to understand the weaknesses of their
fellow human beings."
"Now, don't say that, Will. There's something
120
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
unkind at the bottom of it, and you shouldn't be
unkind—to me, at any rate."
" So I may do and say what I please about every-
one else, eh ? Oh, if you are not a charitable woman,
Constance! "
Had he not accompanied the remark with a smile
that was almost womanish in its sweetness, Miss
Lydham would have felt it due to herself to be either
angry or very suspicious of his feelings towards her.
But she knew the nature of her companion, or, at
least, thought she knew it, so she merely said with
what grace she could, giving him smile for smile :
" Of course, Will, I am a woman, and, I know, none
better, not the best of women."
The sigh that followed this admission of her human
frailty had its effect on the curate.
"There you are wrong, Constance," he said. "I
don't know any woman I would compare with you.
There's not such another in Borton, whatever you
may say."
" Oh, well. But talking of women is a dry subject
to me, if not to you. You must see our Cousin
Virginia," and Miss Lydham fairly laughed out loud.
They were now in a deep country lane, with high
red sandstone banks on either side, half-covered
with green overgrowth, and the tall elms on the
i field sides of the lane threw branches across to
each other so as to form a close trellis-work arch of
leaves overhead. The level of the road gradually
dropped towards the extremity of the lane, which
could be seen in the distance as a white circle of
light, telescoped by the green trees and shrubs into a
dainty point.
"in a grove most rich of shade."
121
" Yes, I should like to see this little American
girl," said the curate. " What is she like ? "
" Oh, Will, as if I could describe her ! The truth
is, she is indescribable. Entre nous, she set our
teeth on edge about every time she spoke yesterday."
" You don't say so. And to-day, was it as bad ? "
"Well, not quite. But she has had fewer oppor-
tunities to do herself justice to-day."
" What colour are her eyes ? "
" Good gracious, Will! I never heard your equal
for indelicacy. Her eyes, indeed! As if I should
know."
" It is a reasonable question, I think—supposing,
of course, that she is not blind, and therefore has no
eyes—which I fancy is not the case."
" Oh, she has eyes, I promise you. They seem to
me to be seeing too much at times."
" Is she pretty ? "
"There! that will do, Will. I intend to sit here
on this old stump. It's a favourite seat of mine, for
the sake of the view both ways."
" Yes, it's a heavenly spot. Listen to that finch,
what a tumult he makes, to be sure. Did you say
your Cousin Carolina, is it?-—no, Virginia—was
pretty? I forget."
" I really don't know. It hasn't entered my head.
Some people might think her so."
" Do you ? "
"Well, you are surely the most pertinacious and
disagreeable of questioners. Pretty! Yes—I sup-
pose she is pretty—for those who don't care much for
graces of mind and manner."
" Then she is uncouth, and ill-educated ? "
122
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Oh, be kind, Will. Remember she comes from
the backwoods, and has had none of the advantages
English girls have."
" I suppose she cuts down trees, kills pigs and
bears, and milks the cows for diversion ? Does she
ride bare-backed horses, do you think? "
" It's possible, Will. But yet I don't think she is
quite such a country girl. And that is the laughable
side of the affair. Would you believe it? she writes
leading articles for her father's papers."
"What! Then she is not a savage—rustic, I
mean ? "
"No, not exactly. Timoleonopolis is a country
town, of course."
" Timoleonopolis! I guess—don't laugh, Constance
—I guess it's a place with plenty of patriotic spirit
in it."
"And that's a fact, Will. Now it's your turn not
to laugh. Virginia is one of the leading spirits of
this patriotic place. But, would you believe it ? she
writes about the people who come to see her, takes
them off, I fancy—their peculiarities, and all that, and
her father pays her for it."
" Indeed ! I'm all impatience to see this prodigy
of girlhood. She is quite a girl, isn't she ? "
" A mere child, Will—not out of her teens, yet
talking (and no doubt writing) like a greybeard. It
positively nauseates me."
" Ha ! ha ! ha! ha! " laughed the curate. " Con-
stance, you should extend your own horizon, and then
you would be kinder to those Avho don't altogether
run into your own mould. I will undertake to
say that this American girl is a better piece of
" IN A GROVE MOST RICH OF SHADE." 123
mechanism than—Miss Spout, par exemple. By-
the-by, Warmington had an interview with your
Cousin Virginia this morning."
" Mr. Warmington ! No I How could he ? "
"Well, he found her leaning on a tomb, getting
sentimental over the architecture, history, and all
that, of the church, and so he had mercy on her, and
gave her the benefit of his erudite tongue instead."
" He did ? I wonder she did not mention it at
dinner. She said she had been looking at the church,
but she did not name any companion. What does he
say about her ? "
" She struck him as uncommon."
Miss Lydham laughed until the little finch above,
who hitherto had not ceased to carol, for all the noisy
talk below him, flew summarily away, his notes
dying in the distance. A raven took the place of the
finch, though neither Miss Lydham nor the curate
noticed the bird; and, sitting calmly on a bough,
some twenty feet over their heads, this bird of ill-
omen wagged its beak from side to side as it con-
templated the pair of human beings in the lane.
" Uncommon indeed, Will."
" He took her up the tower."
" You don't say so. Well, I never ! "
" And when she said ' Good-bye' to him, she
thanked him for saving her the expense of a guide
book."
" Oh, Will! it is too ridiculous. Didn't he burst
out laughing ? "
" Hardly. He didn't so much as smile when he
told me about her."
"There! I'm getting tired of Virginia. You
124
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
shall see her for yourself, and tell me privately what
you think of her, will you ? "
" Certainly, if you wish it."
" Mind, I hold you to your promise."
Then, having mauled and mangled a human some-
thing until it had dropped savourless from their
minds, the man and woman fell gradually into talk
about sweet nothings. It was a hot day in the sun ;
but, with the green shade over them, and the cool
earth and rock around them, they were anything but
incommoded by the heat. Luckily, the lane was not
a highway. Or rather, we may say that had it been
a highway their steps would have instinctively
avoided it for some less frequented track. The
refreshing silence of nature had its proper effect on
this man and woman : they felt at peace with the
world, and, therefore, at peace with each other.
And, being at peace with each other and thus
brought together, with the memory of past inter-
course upon them, they could not help discovering
anew that they both had very attractive qualities of
mind and body.
If the curate, manlike, had formerly objected to
the rather too prominent esteem of Miss Lydham, he
did not so object now. From discussing Virginia
they fell to discussing each other; and the subject
was not one to be lightly abandoned. " Will, dear ! "
and even the tabooed " Willie " Constance," and
even an occasional " Conny" : such were some of
the endearing terms heard by the sleek raven over-
head. Whether the bird understood them or not,
who can say ? But he shook his beak like the
wisest of city magistrates, and looked this way and
" IN A GROVE MOST RICH OF SHADE."
125
that very importantly and eagerly, as though he were
anxious to call a witness to share with him the
responsibility of this very remarkable, if not un-
precedented scene. Once he forgot himself, and
uttered a croak. It was at an important moment
too, so that he might well have been ashamed of
himself. The man and woman beneath him were
positively about to kiss each other—then it was that
he croaked. The noise he made was very slight—it
came from him involuntarily. But, at any rate, it
effectually separated the parties that interested him.
They fell apart and looked to the right and left.
" Only a thrush, Will," said she.
" A peculiar thrush, I must say," said he. " It was
more like a rook with a cold."
" A rook with a cold !" What a terrible slight for
the raven, if haply he heard it. That he, with his
long and glorious line of ancestry, should be con-
founded with an illegitimate stock of beings—with
one of such a race, having a cold : pah! It was
really all he could do to stop a second croak in its
course to the light. At all events, his first croak had
done something. For, so long as he stayed on his
perch—and he outstayed the man and the woman—
he did not see them put their faces so near each
other a second time. They continued to sit on the
old tree trunk, with the brambles encompassing them,
and the shady foliage rustling gently over them,
until the faint rumble of wheels made them, as well
as the raven, look down towards the end of the lane.
Yes, sure enough, a cart was coming. It looked
like a protracted dot in the distance as it bisected
the light at the opening of the lane; but it was
126
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
distinctly a cart. Then the curate remembered
that he had an engagement with an old woman.
She was dying, if he remembered aright, and he
thought she might like a chapter or two from the
Bible, to cheer her on her way. And Miss
Lydham also remembered that she had left Heather
Street for some other purpose than to spend an
hour or so in Runaway Lane, in company with the
Borton curate. So they both rose to their feet. He
yawned, stretched his arms, and brushed his trousers
at the knees ; she shook her dress, smoothed her
hair, and opened her parasol. And then they both
went up the lane, long before the leather-skinned old
carter had a close opportunity of distinguishing the
identity of " they two spooney folk," as he called
them, in his sentimental old heart.
When they had disappeared from his sight, the
raven put his head on one side and croaked furiously.
He had suppressed his feelings so long, that it was
allowable in him to give vent to them at last. Never-
theless, it was unmannerly of him to have emitted
that one unfortunate croak.
CHAPTER XV.
" who would be young again, and suffer anew
the foolish pangs of youth?"
Lumsey Hall was one of those old houses of the
nobility that one may be excused for believing never
had a beginning in time. It was so very ancient, so
very historical, and so very redolent of the past—■
equally as to the fragments of an abbey church on
the one side of it, and the great old oaks in the woods
that crept up to it on the other side.
The owner of Lumsey, at the time when our
American friends were about to visit it, was young
Lord Adolphus Lumsey, whose father had died when
his son was on the eve of his majority. Young
Adolphus had spoken to his fellow-Guardsmen of
his father's disappearance from the world as though
it were an event specially arranged by Providence to
make him the happiest of men.
" A worn-out old duffer, who ate too much sugar
when he was a boy ! " Such was his verdict on the
deceased earl, shortly after his demise. And a
responsive chorus of loud laughter, appreciative
of the wit of the most recent peer of the realm,
showed what an excellent fellow young Adolphus
was held to be by his comrades-in-arms.
" But dash me if I follow the governor's lead,"
said the young earl in sequel. " I've got through
as much money as any fellow on such an income as
mine—but that was because I knew I shouldn't
128
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
have to pay it up, you see. It's different now. All
I spend I'll have to pay, and I want to get a name
elsewhere than in barrack rooms so "
Well, well; there was no need for him to proceed.
Young Adolphus, it seemed, was about to do that
very silly things a mania for perpetrating which does
sometimes seize even the most profligate of England's
sons, though often not until they have torn every
page out of the book of their life—he intended to
turn over a new leaf.
This resolve on the part of Lumsey was serious to
Lumsey's fellow-soldiers, and they did not applaud it.
Rather, inspired doubtless by the devil, they tried to
dissuade him from the step. What blatant folly to
put on the wig of wisdom when he had a thick brown
poll of his own! Time enough in all conscience to
cry " Hold! " when it was a mortal necessity to cry
" Hold ! " Never was so suicidal a resolution taken
in cold blood ! Jumping into the Thames on a
January night were child's play to it; for there are
always good odds in favour of a rescue from the
water, whereas, once let wisdom kick folly well out
of the head of the late slave of folly, and there is
little likelihood that wisdom will ever again resign
her dominion.
Travel was the first part of the self-improvement
programme which Lord Lumsey had mapped out for
himself, with the assistance of a magnanimous friend.
Accordingly, Lord Lumsey travelled.
He traversed seas, continents, and islands; tropics
and arctic circles, mountains and plains, fruitful
valleys and deserts of sand : no phenomenon or
temperature of nature came amiss to him.
"who would be young AGAIN ? " 129
He was accompanied by an intelligent and cultured
secretary, at a large salary, who made notes on the
animal, mineral, and vegetable world wherever they
went; who talked to men and women in all quarters
of the globe, recording the result of these conversa-
tions for Lord Lumsey's perusal and meditation
subsequently at his ease.
He had audience of crowned heads in Europe, and
was, or thought he was, dazzled by the benignity of
the monarchs. He also had audience of heads of
nations, who would have worn crowns if crowns were
>there the fashion, in numerous little palm-tufted
islands, with squatting dukes and- earls (not to
say duchesses and countesses) grinning friendliness
at him while he talked; and, in strange courtly
metaphor, he and the native kings and queens
exchanged morning greetings, and enquired after
each other's healths. He made acquaintance with
mandarins in China, and associated with plenipo-
tentiaries and consuls in Pekin, at a grand festival
given in honour of the Emperor of. the oldest
existing empire in the world. It was mortifying to
him to discover that, he was but an unit here as else-
where, but he bore the trial, and eased his mind by
rough notes across the records in the Lumsey log
book—a quarto volume in blue calf, emblazoned with
the standing lion, " its tail stiffly perpendicular,"
which was the proud insignia of his proud and noble
family. He rode on a pony to see the Great Wall,
and found himself surprised into a reflection on the
vanity of greatness. Nor had he quite shaken off
this humbling reflection when he was surrounded by
Chinese highwaymen, who sans ceremonie asked him
K
180
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
for all the taels he had about him.' The China-
men were armed with curly swords, ghastly in
appearance, and the secretary shook his head to
signify that there was nothing to do but obey. So
Lord Lumsey returned to his yacht at Pekin with
empty pockets, and a yet humbler notion of himself
than he had conceived by the side of the bricks of
the Great Wall. Tiger shooting had its charm for
him in Ceylon and elsewhere. But, one day, he
missed the tiger, and the tiger but narrowly missed
him. There are rare moments in life when one
seems to live long ; and from the time when the
tiger sprung through the air to the moment when a
friendly shot put an end to the beast as he was
reconsidering the peer, Lord Lumsey felt something of
the so-called " bitterness of death"! He remembered
afterwards that he had then been surprised into a
prayer, or the skeleton of a prayer. The prayer was
for his bodily salvation—and he was saved. It was
a good precedent, and, within no long time, Lord
Lumsey accustomed himself to go on his knees at
least once a day. The more he travelled the lower
dropped his conceit. Really he had had no idea there
were so many people in the world ; and the majority
of them not only ignorant and heedless of the
existence of Lord Lumsey and the Horse Guards,
but unconscious that there was such a lady in the
land as Her Imperial Majesty Victoria. He fell to
thinking more and more, and shooting less and less.
A friend sent him a message from the shore at Point
de Galle, and the messenger was a Buddhist devotee.
The message was important, but Lord Lumsey over-
looked the message in the messenger. He retained
" WHO WOULD BE YOUNG AGAIN ? "
131
Bhadrika the Buddhist for a voyage, and had much
talk with him. Strange that a man like Bhadrika
could live on the little he did live on, and live happily
—without ever smiling !
" Don't you drink, or smoke, or play billiards, or
admire the ladies, like most other folks, who want to
get as much fun out of life—eh, Bhadrika ? "
The secretary put the question in comprehensible
Hindostanee.
Bhadrika had heard of drink "and smoke; but
at ladies he shook his head.
" Oh, but that's bosh," said Lord Lumsey. " He
had a mother, I suppose, like the rest of us."
" He knows not, my lord," said the secretary; " or,
rather, perhaps, he is feigning ignorance."
" Ask him what the dooce he lives for, then."
" As the man takes the wick of a candle between
his finger and thumb, and crushes out its yellow light,
so would he wish to squeeze all desire out of his mind."
" Gad! all desire ? Then don't he desire a wife—
among other things ? "
" He says all desires are like the evil spirits of the
night, which draw the unresisting soul on to its
destruction, and help to perpetuate evil in the world.
" Oh, I say ! And how's the world to be kept
going in that fashion ? "
" He shakes his head, my lord, because he doesn't
take the same practical and therefore sensible view of
the matter as your lordship. The world, he says, is
to him nothing but a shifting scene. He sees men
and things; looks at them, and passes them by. To
him they signify nothing. Beauty has no more
power over him than money."
132
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Is he a liar, do yon think ? "
" Does he look like one, my lord ? "
"Well, honour bright, he don't, I must say. He
looks too stoopid—if only he didn't talk so fine. Oh,
I know—ask him where he hopes to go to when he
dies : as my old nurse used to say when I snipped her
fingers with the scissors."
" He hopes he may go nowhere, my lord."
" Ha ! ha ! no doubt, the old rogue ! So would a
good many. But go on."
" He looks forward to the pale occasion (it must be
' pale ') when his life shall be beaten out to a thin
tissue of existence, so that neither sin, nor error, nor
disease, nor pain, nor grief, nor disappointment, nor
despair, nor even death itself shall be able to make
him feel anything. Sin, error, and all—even death,
shall so pass through him as a needle passes through
the holes of a piece of lace, and he will feel them
not. He sighs for the bosom of the Infinite, mv
lord."
" What! the rascal! whose bosom, did you say ? "
" The bosom of the Infinite, my lord. Buddhistic
for death, I should say."
" And who was that old fogey—Buddha ? "
"Buddha, my lord, was a holy beggar; a beggar,
that is, by his own choice. He lived a self-denying
life, and taught disciples under a fig tree. When he
died, a religion was made up of his sayings, and
expanded by those who pretended to be his followers
and exponents."
" Oh, that wrill do. No more preachee, preachee.
I don't believe him a ha'penny. All the feme, let him
talk to you about those things, and you can tell me
" WHO WOULD BE YOUNG AGAIN ? " 133
about what he says at bed-time. It'll do to send me
to sleep."
At Bombay Lord Lumsey dropped the Buddhist,
giving him money to pay his way back to Ceylon.
Bhadrika told his lordship that it was all one to him
if he was taken on to England: he lived inside him,
in his thoughts. But Lord Lumsey said that it was
not'all the same to him, as he had had enough of
Bhadrika, and differed from Bhadrika inasmuch as he
lived mostly outside him, by means of what he put
inside him, which was a joke on the part of Lord
Lumsey, and esteemed so good that the secretary
entered it in the log book.
Having therefore got rid of Bhadrika, Lord Lumsey
took up a Parsee. The Parsee was a thin, clean-
shaven man with a slant eye, but amazingly holy.
He had this advantage over Bhadrika, that he could
talk some English, though it was only pigeon
English.
" Well," said Lord Lumsey to him, "and what's
your theory about the old world in which you live ? "
" Oh, master," said he, when he understood the
bearing of Lord Lumsey's question, " there is war in
the guts of the man. His good and his bad fightee
all the day long ; and generally his good it give way
to his bad."
" Generally ! Then there are exceptions, eh ? "
" Yes. The slave that is before the master is one
of the exceptions. He has fight till he so strong that
no bad can beat his good. He know all the colour
of the evil by heart, and turn him aside from it with
shudder and prayer."
" Oh, come, old fellow, then we'll carry you all the
134
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
way to England, wash yon white, and get you made
Vicar of JBorton, Archbishop of Canterbury, or some-
thing. For the best of us over there ain't up to your
level by any means. So make yourself quite at home."
That night the steward missed a quart of rum,
and Lord Lumsey found the Parsee teacher slumber-
ing on a coil of rope in the fore part of the vessel,
with a broken bottle by his side. His lordship" let
fall a lighted fusee on the teacher, who instantly
burst into flames.''
" Chuck him into -the water," said Lord Lumsey.
" It'll put the fire out."
So they threw the Parsee overboard, and he swam
to the shore ; nor did he return in the morning.
" One more try with these Eastern fellows," said
Lord Lumsey to his secretary. " Go, get an Arab,
and get one that can talk about Mussel, the founder
of their religion—or was it Mahomet? I forget."
The Arab secured by the secretary was Pig Ham
Pee, and he was of a rich chestnut colour.
" I don't like his nose," said Lord Lumsey. " It's
too sharp ; and his eye shines like a knife."
" It is their way, my lord," said the secretary. " He
is very honest, and that is a great thing in an Arab.
He comes from Bagdad, he says, and is a merchant
in reduced circumstances."
" Hot much like a merchant, I should say," said
Lord Lumsey, "but that's no odds. Fetch him here
into the cabin."
Pig Ram Pee made a stiff obeisance as he entered
the chamber, and his eyes seemed to be looking
everywhere at once.
"English, Pig Ram Pee? » said his lordship.
" WHO WOULD BE YOUNG AGAIN ? " 135
" Sahib, yes."
" Squat, if you like, by those pistols there. Don't
be afraid ; they're not loaded. Pretty things, ain't
they ? Now, tell me all about that old man of yours
who governs this chaotic old world of ours."
The Arab shook his head sagely, glanced wildly at
the frescoed ceiling, with one swift hand seized and
pocketed the silver-mounted pistols by his side, and
replied " Kismet, sahib ! "
" Hang you for a thief," exclaimed his lordship,
rising and rushing at Pig Ram Pee. The Arab
did not wait for Lord Lumsey, but, dropping the
pistols, ran up the stairs, scudded across the deck,
and, throwing his hands high above his head, dived
into the sea. They waited and watched to see him
come to the surface, Lord Lumsey intending to have
a shot at him, but he did not appear.
" Drowned, my lord ! Was he fanatic ? "
" I don't know," said Lord Lumsey; "but he was
trying to be a thief."
" He has paid the penalty," said the secretary.
" Kismet! " said his lordship.
At that moment they saw a round, shining thing
like a bladder come softly to the surface some fifty
yards away. The tide was going out, but the seem-
ing bladder moved quickly against the tide, in the
direction of the shore.
"That's your Pig Ram Pee," said Lord Lumsey,
bitterly. " Well, he may go for all I care. But
I've done with such men."
From Bombay Lord Lumsey sailed to England,
and, leaving his yacht at Southampton, took train for
Borton, whence he returned to Lumsey Hall.
136
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN*
When Lord Lumsey found himself again in the
old hall of his fathers, after his two years' absence,
he felt a stranger to himself and his surroundings.
The housekeeper was there to curtsey at him when-
ever he looked towards her, and the butler and other
servants were as ready as formerly to " My lord "
him three or four times a minute. No alteration had
been made in the Hall. No timber had been cut in
the park. No new excavation had been dug and
filled with water, to be known thenceforward as " a
lake." The Lumseys of the past stared at him from
the walls in the same imbecile or impudent way as of
old. And the Lumsey plate was as safe as ever.
Of course the change was really in Lord Lumsey
himself; and ere he had been at Lumsey a week he
was aware of it. He had no wish to go back to the
Guards. He had no wish to go from drawing-room
to drawing-room in Mayfair, virtually ticketed :—
" This man has £100,000 per annum—
Approach, oh, ye mammas, and adore ! "
He was not at all sure he wanted to play the country
gentleman. In fact, he was not sure that he knew
what he did want, except in one particular. He
wanted a wife without the trouble of wooing one.
It was all very nice in theory to put on his best
clothes, twirl his moustache, stick his largest glass in
his eye, curve his back delicately, and go from girl-
gallery to girl-gallery, inspecting, weighing, and
tasting this and that sample of young womanhood.
The creatures were mostly so much alike in colour
and tongue that it were really as bad and boresome in
its way as trotting up and down his own picture-
gallery, gazing in the faces of his forefathers and
"who would be young again ? " 137
foremothers. But the exertion, put into practice,
were detestable.
If only they would come to him, and just walk
quietly past his arm-chair, with their ages marked
legibly on their foreheads or their backs, and an
equally legible description of their tempers, virtues
and vices, relations, habits, and expectations : if this
could be, he would perhaps jump at matrimony as the
cure or palliative for his incipient discontent with
himself and everything. But this, he supposed, was
impossible ; though he had been told, time after time,
that with money nothing was impossible. So he
made up his mind to spend a few weeks quietly at
Lumsey, thinking about his recent travels, smoking
cigars, and scheming his future.
Lord Lumsey had returned from - his protracted
tour a month or so before the American Fosters
arrived at Borton.
CHAPTER XYI.
"ob^, my ancestral halls! my income."
When the Americans left Heather Street for Lumsey
Hall they decided to walk gently, as Uncle Foster
was a trifle stout and a sexagenarian. He had
already accomplished ten miles that day, and here he
was setting forth on another five-mile walk, which
would be ten a second time in one day ere he reached
home again. His daughter tried to persuade him to
stay at home, but he would not be persuaded.
" Anyhow," said his daughter, when she found he
was obdurate, 'cyou must sit down a good deal when
you get there. We'll tell you what we see, and I
guess that'll do a good half as well."
" Don't you make any mistake, Yirginny," said
Uncle Foster, with a smile.
The entrance to Lumsey Park was rather grimly
overpowering. The iron gate, intricately worked
into devices as to the body of it, had terrible spikes
at the top, which suggested that in olden times heads,
not to say quarters, of rebels had been impaled on
them for the instruction of the country people in the
paths of loyalty and submission to authority. The
avenue from the gate was as remarkable as the gate
itself. The trees were leviathan elms, smaller oaks
being planted parallel with the elms, probably to
take the place of the elms when these had sue-
cumbed to age and tempest. Such a hoary,
battered, and blasted, yet magnificent collection of
"OH, MY ANCESTRAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 139
trees could with difficulty have been found elsewhere
in the realm. They rose high into the air, most of
them with numerous bare black boughs projecting
from the green at the sides, or pinnacling above their
highest foliage, like gaunt lightning conductors; and
at their feet lay the ungarnered debris of many a
wind and storm. For nearly a mile this venerable
avenue ran in a straight line ; the road rising and
falling as to its level, but undeviating in its direction.
And, at the other extremity of it, stood Lumsey Hall,
white and majestic.
The lodge keeper let the visitors pass through the
gate unchallenged. She may have supposed they
were friends of Lord Lumsey, and, with that
©haritable spirit for which women of all classes are
justly more celebrated than men, have been willing
to stretch a point in her duty for the purpose of
saving his lordship from too much of his own society,
for she had received an intimation that his lordship
was to be generally "away from home."
For nearly half-an-hour the Americans walked
between the trees, getting nearer and nearer to the
Hall, and feeling more and more adequately how im-
portant a man must be the owner of the vast expanse
of richly-timbered land on either side of them. They
were impressed by the cultured beauty of the country
as they would have been impressed by the cultured
manner of a well-bred courtier. The sun caught the
glass dome over the centre of the Hall before them,
and this shone wih golden light. The massive
Grecian pillars supporting the pediment in the middle
of the facade became more and more clearly visible,
and seemed increasingly ponderous and suggestive
140 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
of rank. All which symbols of greatness had such
an effect on Uncle Foster and Sam, that, by the
time they were within a stone's throw of the vast
portal which led into his lordship's reception hall,
they realised that they felt by no means so comfort-
able and so much at home as they would have wished.
" What's his name ? " asked Uncle Foster, looking
' O
at Sam, and then looking at the huge building in
front. " I've quite forgot."
" And so have I," said Sam. " Jehosophat! What
a contingency! "
''He's Lord Lumsey," said Virginia. "I re-
member him from being so like ' Clumsy.' "
" You dear girl, Virginia," 'said her father.
"Will you just ring, Sam ? My hand is so unsteady
after the walk; and it's a big bell, too."
" I should think it is," said Sam, when he had
pulled the handful of brass some six inches from the
socket, and let it return with a snap. " And did you
ever hear such an infernal row ? "
Peal after peal of bell music reverberated far inside,
and could be heard almost as distinctly out of doors.
" Oh, Sam ! " exclaimed Virginia. " They'll be
having fits—you shouldn't have done it."
Scarcely had she finished speaking, when half the
door flew open—to use expressive metaphor ; and a
vision of gentlemen in green livery and lusty white
calves appeared before their eyes. One of the
gentlemen held the door with his left hand, but
exposed the whole of his livery to the visitors, and
his mouth and eyes were equitably open, as he stood,
legs well apart, in front of them. Four other
gentlemen, exactly like the foremost one, had taken
"oh my ancestkal halls! my income." 141
up positions farther off, at intervals, with their arms
half extended as if in expectation of someone whom
they wished to welcome with honour. Dark-coloured
furniture and stags' heads formed a mellow
entourage and background for these five gentle-
men in livery.
" Oh ! " said the first gentleman in livery, when
he had satisfied himself that his eyes were to be
believed, and he relaxed greatly in dignity. The
other four gentlemen also shrank perceptibly, and
became ordinary men in fine clothes.
"Pray, what is it?" asked the first gentleman,
blandly, looking from Uncle Foster to Sam, and
from Sam back again to Uncle Foster, and thence,
quickly, to Virginia. His gaze rested on Virginia
for a moment, and then, without waiting for an
answer to his question, he said, more affably, " Lord
Lumsey is not at home."
" Oh! " said Uncle Foster.
" That's a go," said Sam.
" Does it signify ? " said Virginia, speaking to her
father.
"Well, I think it might," said he, replying to his
daughter in an apologetic tone of voice. Then,
turning to the gentlemen in livery, he said that they
had come all the way from Borton—no, not Borton—
America ; and that they would be sorry to go away
without seeing anything.
"Seeing anything?" The words puzzled the
lacquey, or seemed to puzzle him. Then it entered
his head that these were foreign friends, or rather
acquaintances, that my lord had picked up during his
tour, and that it would vex him to miss them ; and
142
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
a second look at Virginia confirmed him in the last
part of his idea.
" His lordship is in the Home park," he said,
suavely. " Be so kind as to enter, and he shall be
advised of your presence."
" Dear me ! " said Uncle Foster, u I don't think I
have a card."
"Nor I," said Sam, shaking his head. And they
both looked in each other's faces dejectedly.
" Perhaps the lady " said the lacquey, with
deference, holding the silver tray towards Virginia,
like a genial churchwarden at collection time,
anxious to do his best for the church, and at the
same time to avoid wounding any feelings.
" Oh, Sam ! " whispered Virginia, " they're in an
under pocket."
He who affirms that delicacy and chivalry of
conduct are a class monopoly speaks in ignorance.
They are not. Wherever a true heart beats in a
human breast, there is capacity for chivalry and
nobility.
The lacquey heard Virginia's troubled whisper, or
heard enough of it to guess at the rest; and, without
a moment's hesitation, he turned on his heel, and
stood with his back to the visitors ; and the other
two lacqueys who had waited followed his example.
" Thanks for that," said Virginia, as she placed
the card on the tray. The man bowed, self-gratified,
and the three visitors were shown into a sumptuous
reception-room, and begged to take chairs pending
his lordship's coming.
When the door was softy closed, Virginia said
hurriedly to her father, " Was it quite the thing,
"OH, MY ANCESTRAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 143
father, to send my card in in that style? I fear it
wasn t.
" Oh, never mind," said Sam.
" I don't know," replied Uncle Foster, rubbing his
chin ; " I positively don't know, my dear."
" Well, you'll have to do the speaking, father,"
said Sam, with a half malicious chuckle.
" My dear boy—but I relied on you for that! "
" Oh, don't fret; you're the Roman father, and
must act the chief, of course. We'll back you up
with Yesses and Noes, won't we, Virginny ? "
" You ought to have scrawled your own names on
that bit of board of mine, father," said Virginia ;
"I'm sure you ought."
They sat waiting for a quarter of an hour without
hearing a sound outside the room.
The sensations attendant on suspense of any kind
are seldom pleasing, and very often protracted sus-
pense becomes positive pain.
Not that Uncle Foster felt much discomfort during
this fifteen minutes. He Had some pictures to look
at. It was the same with Sam, who was busily
occupied in photographing the room into his brain
for reproduction elsewhere at some future time.
But Virginia was so expectant that she could not
take an interest in the room. Lord Lumsey, she had
heard, was a young man. He was a nobleman, of
course, and very rich, with a seat in the House of
Lords—that mysterious assemblage of hoary notables
which she, as an American citizen, was so fond of
holding up to the scorn of all reasonable men and
women, but which, as a picturesque survival and
finger-post of the past, she could not even think of
144
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
without a feeling of something very like reverence.
It was one thing to write sonorous articles on demo-
cracy and the rights of man in the little editor's
parlour at Timoleonopolis ; but it was quite another
thing to sit in the drawing-room of a lord, and deter-
mine to think of this same lord as a mere fellowman,
differing in no essential respect from the first back-
woodsman you might meet in a walk from Timo-
leonopolis westwards. Several times she did so deter-
mine, and every time the resolution was driven out
of her mind before it had taken firm root. The
grand old park, with its avenue of shattered elms ;
the palatial pile of stone, with its pillars that made
her (foolishly enough, but none the less irresistibly)
think of the Temple of Jerusalem; the lacqueys, with
their powdered hair and plump calves; the lofty
room, heavy with comfort, in which she was at that
moment sitting—all persisted in opposing her in this
determination. And he was young, perhaps handsome!
Oh, the folly of supposing that one must be con-
sistent always and in all things. It is the exception
that proves the rule. Why, therefore, should she not
make up her mind, just for once, to forget that a
democracy is the most humane and sensible of govern-
ments, and to recognise in this young scion of nobility
a worthy inheritor of the awful responsibility of
governing one's fellow-creatures ?
"Here he comes," whispered Uncle Foster, as a
sharp step was heard outside ; and, in a moment,
Virginia forgot the doctrine she was trying to teach
herself.
The door handle turned, and Lord Lumsey entered
the room.
" OH, MY MCEgTJaAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 145
The three Americans rose from their chairs as the
door opened.
Lord Lumsey presented himself to them as a strong-
looking young man, in a black velvet shooting-jacket,
and light-coloured gaiters. A slight gold chain made
a double festoon across his waistcoat, and he wore a
cameo pin in his scarf. No one could say that he
was over-dressed; but he gave a beholder the idea
that he was a man scrupulously careful how he
dressed. To over-dress is a vice, whereas it is a sign
of anything rather than viciousness in a young man
to dress with neatness and taste. His lordship had a
skin-deep smile on his lips, and he held Virginia's
card in his right hand.
"Miss Virginia Foster, Timol-e-on pardon
me," he said, reading from the card.
"It's Timoleonopolis, sir," said Uncle Foster.
" We hope you won't think us intruders ? "
"Intruders!" said Lord Lumsey. "Pray sit
down. Of course not."
"The fact is, that we've heard—at least Virginia
has, haven't you, Virginny, eh? "
" Lord Lumsey won't understand you if you don't
go ahead," said Virginia, quietly. She. wondered
why her eyes preferred the carpet to ihe ceiling or
the walls. It was not usual with them to have such
a low preference.
" Take your time, sir," said Lord Lumsey, good
humouredly. " I've nothing to do—more's the pity."
" You may say that," said Uncle Foster, seizing on
this casual remark of his lordship's as an excellent
text for an oration. " There are few things worse in
life, sir, than having nothing to do. And the joke
L
146
Virginia, Tfifi America^
is, that few things are harder to do than nothing, eh?
Ha! ha ! "
" That is not your line, I venture to say. But can I
help you to something ? "
" No, no ; nothing of the kind, sir; don't think it.
But I'll come to the point sharp, now. My daughter
says you have got a house choke full of curiosities ;
and, if it doesn't inconvenience you uncommonly, we
would be uncommonly obliged if you would show
them to us."
" Oh, is that all ? " said Lord Lumsey, laughing.
" I wonder, now, who told you of the things ?"
" Who was it, Virginny?" asked Uncle Foster.
" Who ? " said Virginia, raising her head. " Why,
it was that minister at the church ; a rather washed-
out man, with a pale face."
" No doubt Mr. Warmington," said Lord Lumsey,
who had closely observed Virginia while she was
speaking. "He is an excellent fellow, and confirmed
me when I was a boy—not confirmed, though, by the
by ; but put me in the way of it."
" I hope we aren't a trouble," said Uncle Foster.
" If so "
"Don't talk of it," said Lord Lumsey, rising. "I'll
show you the things myself. I'll take you into every
room in the place, if it don't tire and bore you. But
if it don't do both, you will be more than human, I
think. But, perhaps, you would like to rest first of
all ? Miss F—Foster may be tired ? "
" Thanks—not a morsel!" said Virginia ; and her
eyes thanked him as well as her tongue.
" Nor you, sir ?" he added, turning to Uncle
Foster ; " nor the young man there ? "
"OH, MY ANCESTRAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 147
Neither Uncle Foster nor Sum pleaded fatigue.
Sam, however, was not well pleased at being called
" young man" by the lord. He had been called
" young man " time after time out in Timoleonopolis
and in New York; but, there, the people who had so
addressed him had no particular pretension to be
considered his betters. But to be called " young
man " by this English Lord Lumspy, himself a very
young man, was somewhat vexatious to his feelings ;
and the lord's youth and easy assumption of su-
periority of course made the sting all the keener.
" It's rather late, father, ain't it ? " he said, in a low
voice. " It's gone four thirty by this."
"No, no," said Lord Lumsey, turning round from
the door. " You must go through the ordeal now
you are here ;" and he smiled so pleasantly that even
Sam thought he forgot the lord in the man.
They followed his lordship down a corridor, hand-
somely carpeted 'and hung as to its walls with por-
traits and battle scenes.
" Don't waste a second on these rubbish," said he,
by way of warning; for Uncle Foster had begun to
examine closely the first lady in a ruff who had
caught his eye. "They have all been dead three
centuries at least; and, though they were all Lumseys,
more or less, in life, I. don't think much of them at
this time of day."
Sam cast sharp eyes everywhere : at the Turkey
carpets, the sober but soothing colour of the walls,
the deep recesses and rich panelling of the doors, the
ivory and crystal door handles. As for Virginia, she
followed Sam, and, as Sam said, seemed to be having
a " precious bad turn of silence fever."
48
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN,
" Eighteen door handles in this one passage-^at,
say, twenty dollars apiece, Virginia," whispered Sam
to his sister. " There's a bill for trifles, if you like."
• " I think you'd better shut up, Sam," said Vir-
ginia; "Lord Lumsey might hear you. Or the
passage might be like the gallery in St. Paul's,
London, you know."
The chief drawing-room was the first of the state
apartments they visited. To the Americans it was
the realisation of some mediaeval scene.
" It's like walking through a curiosity shop," said
Uncle Foster ; " I do declare it is."
"With a comfortable difference, anyhow," added
Sam, laughing; " for here a chap ain't pestered to
buy everything he lets his eyes rest on."
" Don't make such remarks," whispered Virginia.
" It ain't at all the 'thing here, I'm sure."
" I don't know what's coming to you, Virginia,"
said Sam, turning and scrutinising his sister, while
Lord Lumsey was pointing out some historical por-
traits on the walls.
" See that rogue-faced fellow—he's Sunderland,
of the Stuart period. The greatest rascal in Europe,
they say. And next him is Sally Jennings, after-
wards, you know, Duchess of Marlborough, friend
of Queen Anne, et cetera. Does your daughter care
for pictures, Mr. Foster? "
" Oh, don't she though ! Virginia, my dear, come
along, and leave Sam. Lord Lumsey wants you to
listen to what he's saying. This is the Duchess of
Marlborough that was."
" I beg your pardon," said Virginia, coming for-
ward; "my brother had something to s.ay to me."
"OH, MY ANCESTRAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 149
" Your father. Miss Foster, is rather hard 011 me,"
said Lord Lumsey, smiling. " I didn't say anything
so bad as that. You'd think me a showman, with
his drum and musical necklet. For the benefit of
strangers and visitors, I am seriously thinking of
having all the old boys and girls labelled with their
names and dates. It would save them the bore of
listening to a cicerone or housekeeper."
"Don't talk of it, sir," said Uncle Foster. "I
assure you, you do it very well indeed."
" Thanks," said Lord Lumsey.
From the drawing-room they went to the other
reception rooms, alike resplendent with mirrors and
gilding, and polished floors and chandeliers. The
great dining-hall had a gallery to it, where, in olden
times, the minstrels stood to play sweet music while
the lords of Lumsey ate their venison.
" How about sharps and flats and fishbones, sir? "
asked Uncle Foster.
" Choke, you mean ?" replied Lord Lumsey. " Oh,
I don't know. Perhaps fish was kept for Fridays,
and they were then kept out of the room."
The library was a noble chamber of great length.
" There are boxes of papers and parchments under-
neath to make up as many more books if a man had
time to look them over."
" Lor, sir ! " said Uncle Foster. " You've got
enough, I should say. You'll never read all these."
" Read, forsooth ! I "should say not—considering
that I don't know even where the keys of the cup-
boards are to be found. I hate books, except to look
at outside."
" You don't say so. Hear that, Sam ? His lord-
150
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
ship gives you a lesson. My son, Lord Lnmsey, is an
awful reader."
" Upon my sonl! " said Lord Lumsey, examining
the young American. "Now, attention, if you please.
Miss Foster, this is the room where the king slept.
This is the bed which the king slept on. And this is
the glove which the king wore. Isn't it like ' the
House that Jack built,' for all the world ? "
" I guess you try to make it so, my lord," said
Virginia, looking at him as though she would like to
enter into his fun if she only knew how.
" Oh! you are unkind, Miss Foster," said Lord Lum-
sey, turning his face away in assumed disquietment.
From the Charles I. bedroom the party went to
other bedrooms of less fame, mainly remarkable for
their height, the depressingly-solemn black oak four-
poster in the middle of the chamber, and the tapestry
on the walls. The tapestry of Lumsey was celebrated,
not only for its designs—some of which were abso-
lutely unintelligible, even to experts—but for the
beauty of its colouring. Their magnificence was
dreadful, said Uncle Foster; and, in halting words,
the old man explained to Lord Lumsey that if he had
to pass a night in one of the rooms, he was sure he
should be haunted by all the men and women on the
tapestry, not to mention the spirits of the previous
occupants of the chamber for a hundred and fifty
years or so.
" Oh, if you like ghosts," said Lord Lumsey,
" come ! "
They followed him accordingly down several
panelled corridors, until they reached a doorway
with a hatchment over it.
"OH, MY ANCESTRAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 151
" This is the dead-room of the family, and I can
tell yon is left pretty much to itself and the spiders
between our deaths. Will you look in ? "
" Oh, rather," said Sam, pushing boldly past his
father, who had fallen back aghast, and was regarding
the lozenge of wood over the door as though it were
an embodiment of horrors.
" And you, Miss Foster ? "
"Yes, thank you," said Virginia, with a composed
smile.
"There's nothing frightful to see," said his lord-
ship laughing, as he turned the key, " and if anyone
ought to feel it, I ought. I saw my own father here
the last time I was in the room. And, next time I'm
here, it may be on that platform, for anything I
know."
It was a square room—lofty, like all the Lumsey
rooms, and hung on all its walls with heavy black
velvet. It contained no bed. The wooden dais in
the middle of the room, with a sort of altar on it,
above which was an elaborate canopy suspended from
the ceiling, explained itself, though Lord Lumsey told
them that it was the framework of the catafalque for
•the lying-in-state.
" The candlesticks are the finest part of the show,"
he added, " but they are not kept here. And now,
sir," said his lordship, addressing Uncle Foster, "how
should you like to pass a night here ? "
" Oh, Grod forbid!" said Uncle Foster, in
reply; " and, if you please, I'll leave the room at
once."
" And what are you thinking of, Miss Foster, if I
may dare to ask you ? " questioned Lord Lumsey.
152
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Well," she said, and she rested the end of her
parasol on the sombre pile in the middle of the room,
as she looked in Lord Lumsey's face, " If you must
have it, I was just telling myself that it ain't all
plums to be a lord. A common man wouldn't be
cursed with such a room in his house."
" Cursed ! " said Lord Lumsey. " Oh, come—that's
strong. Besides, I don't think we feel it so much as
that. If I did, for one, I wouldn't respect the whim
of my ancestors for the tenth part • of a day. I'd
turn the dead room into an apple closet or a nursery.'
" A nursery ! Good gracious ! I hope you'd got
your wife to see it with the same eyes."
" Oh, I'm not obstinate about trifles," said Lord
Lumsey, laughing. " I'd just as soon give it up to
the apples as the babies."
"I don't think your Grace is married, though, are
you ? " asked Sam, with great friendliness of tone
and intention.
" Thank God, no!" said Lord Lumsey, coldly.
" But let us get out of here. You shall see the picture
gallery, and then, I hope, you will honour me by
taking some light refreshment before leaving."
" My dear lord, you are monstrous kind," said Uncle'
Foster, enthusiastically.
" Uncommon," added Sam.
" It is very good indeed of you," murmured Virginia.
" Oh, you mustn't think me a model nobleman, by
any means. You are Americans, and I am an
Englishman in high position, through no fault of
mine. You, as Americans, look on such fellows as me
as—well, I won't say pretenders, but survivals of a
state of affairs that can't now last much longer, But
"OH ! MY ANCESTRAL HALLS ! MY INCOME." 153
pray sit down here: I remember now that you have
been standing all this time."
Lord Lumsey's words astonished his visitors almost
to the degree of discomfiture; but he gave them
no time for the digestion of their meaning or rejoinder.
"Notice the old guys at this end of the room,
if you please," resumed his lordship. " The gentle-
man in the peaked beard and high ruff was an
Elizabethan courtier. Can't conceive what he got for
his pains, exeept smiles. He wasn't handsome, so, no
doubt, he deserved them. The next is his wife, poor
lady. Imagine, Miss Foster, the circumference of her
dress by her feet, judging from her waist. Quite a tent
full of finery—no room for amiability and virtue.
He with the rosy cheeks, below, was an Admiral in
James II.'s time, and the woman with the long nose
and thin lips was his wife. Bad match, eh ? The
five ladies left of the Admiral were five honourable
Lumseys—all spinsters. They lived and died here,
all the lot of them, and were reputed excellent women."
" Why didn't they marry, my lord ? " asked Uncle
F oster.
" I don't know, sir ; but I fear because nobody
wanted them. No one has ever fallen in love with
their pictures that I know; and people generally
show up well on canvas if anywhere. Don't you
think so, Miss Foster? "
" Do they, Lord Lumsey ? " said Virginia. " I
don't know."
"Next are the Royalist Lumseys. One died at
Naseby, of toothache, they said ; and the other died
in his bed. Not that they were cowards, either of
them. They have left some letters behind them that
154
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN,
read just like a battle—you can almost hear the
swords clashing and the cannon firing. But there's
one picture I should like to show you, Miss Foster,
while your father and brother are looking at these, if
you are not too tired. It's at the other end of the
room."
" No, I'm not tired, Lord Lumsey," said Virginia,
rising. Uncle Foster and Sam also rose.
" Don't move, gentlemen," said his lordship. "We
will come back to you directly."
Virginia followed Lord Lumsey, wondering what
he could have to show her which he wished the
others not to see.
" There!" said his lordship, stopping before a
picture that seemed all frame, so insignificant was the
canvas compared with the deep gilded frame around
it; " look at that girl's face."
" She ain't half ugly," said Virginia, when she had
gone as near to the portrait as the light would allow.
"Who is she?"
"It's what they call a sad story," said Lord
Lumsey, looking into his companion's face. And
then his lordship told the story with unnecessary
deliberation. He watched the conflict of expressions
in Virginia's eyes while he recounted the culmi-
nation of the tragedy (for of course there was a
tragedy), and then, after a moment of silence, he
said softly :
" Where are you stopping, Miss Foster? "
"Who? me?" said Virginia, withdrawing from
the picture. "Oh, our cousins in Heather Street,
Borton, have put us up for a week."
" Your cousins ? "
"OH, MY ANCESTRAL HALLS! MY INCOME." 155
" Yes, don't you know the Lydhams ?"
" Two ladies, arn't they ? Keep a school, if I
remember ? "
" That's them, my lord ; and I think my father just
wants a word with me."
Yes. Mr. Foster did want a word with his
daughter. He was amazed to discover that it was
six o'clock; he had never enjoyed a day more in the
whole course of his life, and he should remember it as
long as it pleased God to spare him, being especially
mindful of Lord Lumsey's ancestors, the beautiful
rooms in Lord Lumsey's Hall, and the awful death
chamber : it should not be his fault if his fellow men
and women in the States did not in future have
clearer and juster ideas of the nature of an English
lord and an English lord's habitation; and, lastly, he
had been as delighted as surprised by Lord Lumsey's
unparalleled hospitality—it was worthy of the States,
and he could say nothing higher of it than that.
Such was the gist of the rather long speech Uncle
Foster thought it incumbent on him to make to Lord
Lumsey. It was too late for them to spend another
minute in Lord Lumsey's mansion, else nothing in
the world would have given them greater pleasure ;
and Uncle Foster was sure he was speaking for his
son and daughter equally with himself. If* by the
will of Providence, Lord Lumsey was ever in a
position to receive a favour at the hands of so humble
an individual (the irony was strong though uninten-
tional) as Mark Foster of Timoleonopolis, Michigan
State, Lord Lumsey might rely on such favour, and
he would be happy indeed if he might some day have
Lord Lumsey as a guest in his own house; " Echo
156
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
Villa—as well known in Timoleonopolis as the rail-
way depot itself."
"Hang the fellow! " said Lord Lnmsey to himself
when he had seen them out of doors, and noted how
gracefully Virginia Foster tripped down his ponderous
stone steps. " But what a beautiful creature the
daughter is ! " And, as Lord Lumsey had nothing
particular to do during the rest of the day, he thought
about Virginia until his imagination assured him the
girl was a paragon, and that the trifling abruptnesses
and peculiarities of speech which he had observed in
her were so many additional charms rather than
defects.
Three or four weeks had elapsed since Lord
Lumsey had seen any human face besides the faces
of his lacqueys and domestics. Ho wonder, therefore,
that he dreamed of Virginia Foster that night!
CHAPTER XVII.
" there's no harm in thinking of a man, is there ? "
" So that's a lord, father ! " exclaimed Sam, when they
were again in the high lanes, with their green shade
and lively bird-music.
"And no bad one!" said Uncle Foster. " If only
they were all like him ! "
"He didn't strike me as so wonderful polite," said
Sam.
" Oh, didn't he?" said Virginia, "but he was."
" Yes—to you, Virginny, in particular," said
Uncle Foster. "And what did he take you up in
that there corner for, eh? "
" It was only the picture of a girl that got shot
when her husband's father was in a temper."
" That all, eh ? Well, darn me if I'd live in such
a house of horrors if I might wear a crown on my
head for it all!" And Uncle Foster kicked up the
dust till it made him sneeze, in the energy of his
asseveration.
"We saw no society," remarked Sam, drily.
"Now I thought men like him filled their houses
with people—I did indeed ! "
"Hem!" said Uncle Foster. "That's rather a
wholesale way of talking, Sam."
" Then it's a mighty good thing you've had a
chance of enlightening your ignorance," said Virginia.
" Ignorance ! " said Sam. " And how do you or
I know it ain't so ? "
158
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" I guess it ain't, whether you think it or no ! "
" It's no use imagining conjectures, Sam," said
Uncle Foster ; "and the more unpleasant such fancies
are, it's the less use cultivating them. This lord has
been very kind; darn me if we don't let the world
know that he has been so ! "
" Remember what he said himself, too! " added
Virginia, earnestly.
" Oh, go on, Virginny ! " said Sain. " It ain't
every day an American girl has a lord to carry on
with ! "
" If you say such things again, I'll not speak to
you for a week or two," said Virginia. " Besides,
you know I don't care for lords any more than other
men ; and, if I did, I don't see that it's anybody's
business but mine ! "
" Hey, hey, my girl! " said Uncle Foster.
"You've got the reins between your teeth. But
as for caring for men in that style, I suppose I'm an
interested party, Virginny ; and you'd let me know
the time of day before the clock began to strike!"
"Well, it's possible, father," said Virginia.
What a shame it was in Sam to talk to her in such
a way ! she thought. She was no more in love with
the stranger at first sight than she was in love with
any of the faces on the pictures he had shown them.
As a great man in a great country (great in history,
that is ; certainly not in size, or even importance),
great, in despite of himself, he was an object of
curiosity to her. She would have been sorry to miss
seeing him—taking him as a sample of his kind—as
she would be sorry to leave England without seeing
St. Paul's Cathedral, or Paris without visiting the
"there's no harm in thinking of a man." 159
Morgue ; but, having seen him, of course she would
temporarily forget him, as she would forget the
Morgue, lest there should be no rooni in her memory
for more worthy subjects of recollection. It was
very good of him to take so much trouble with
them ; but, like Sam, she fancied she saw through
him, and discerned that he had taken them up for
the sake of the novelty they offered him, and that he
had acted the cicerone less from kind and disinterested
motives than from curiosity, and for what intellectual
amusement he could get from observation and study
of his visitors. All the same, she was not going to
let Sam say and signify evil about the young lord.
The nobleman had a very lively black eye, he was
peculiarly well made, and carried himself like a
soldier ; she liked his moustache, though it did hide
the movement of his upper lip ; and his manners
were such that she felt sure it would be a positive
pleasure to be connected with him, to obey him, or
be under obligation to him—this last especially. And,
being a woman, though a woman in some small
degree unsexed by the nature of her work at home,
she had a certain reverence for the man who could
exercise control pleasantly and well. Of course she
knew nothing of his heart, or whether he was a
good man or a bad in the ordinary meaning of the
phrase. And, since she had reached the subject of
hearts, it was time for her to cease thinking of Lord
Lumsey. For Lord Lumsey was nothing to her,
good heart or bad heart; nothing, that is, except a
graceful statuette in her mind, by no means so sure
of a permanent pedestal in her gallery as many
less important and picturesque citizens of the world
160
VIRGINIA, USES AltEBlCAlf.
whom she had already met, or whom she was destined
to meet.
When the party arrived at Heather Street, Borton,
Uncle Foster was thoroughly exhausted. He asked
his nieces to lay him on a sofa and fan him until
he was cool, which request they took seriously, and
sought the aid of Martha—at that time of the evening
in her best clean print, and as comely a maidservant
for her years as could be found in the country—to
help the old gentleman upstairs.
Miss Lydham was in high spirits. Her sister wished
that the responsibility of her uncle and cousins could
have the same effect on her as it seemed to have on
Constance. " They are a set of dear old noodles, all
three of them ! " Miss Lydham had said to her sister,
half-an-hour before their return from Lumsey.
"Idon't know about the 'dear,' except as meaning
very costly," Mary had replied, laughing ; and as
applied, perhaps, just a little to Uncle Foster and
Yirginia. " You have no idea, Conny, how that girl
has risen in my estimation since the morning. I
never knew anyone interest boys like her ! "
" Oh, boys are an incomprehensible race. How
nice it will be, Mary, when we can get rid of them
altogether—boys and girls and all."
" Ah, when !" sighed Mary.
"You must marry, Mary, you really must. I find
we are getting old without knowing it."
"Without knowing it? Speak for yourself, Conny.
As for me, I know it by heart. But you should get
married yourself before you talk about me."
" I am very sure there is no happier kind of life than
married life."
" there's no harm in thinking oe a man." 161
" You talk like a book, Conny; mother wasn't
very happy, however."
" But, seriously, Mary, do try and get a husband."
" My dear Conny, am I to understand that you
have got one, then ? "
" Oh! that's a secret. But, supposing I had, how;
could I leave you by yourself?"
" Tell me all about it, dear," said Mary, drawing
her chair nearer to her sister, and looking at her
affectionately and proudly.
" Hush!" and Miss Lydham placed her right
forefinger playfully over her sister's lips. " One must
never talk of what is not an actual fact."
" Oh, but tell your sister, Conny."
" I don't think I dare, Mary ; indeed I don't."
They were talking thus when their uncle and
cousins returned. Tea had to be prepared at once,
and Uncle Foster attended to, so the sisters charitably
postponed all questioning about the visit until nature
had been recruited.
"So you got into the Hall?" said Constance,
when she had given them all a first cup of tea.
"Yes, rather," said Sam. " Guess how."
" How can I ? Did you storm the doors ? "
" Not likely, Cousin Constance. I rang the bell,
and in style, too."
" Oh, that bell, I can hear it now," said Virginia,
putting her hands to her ears.
" Yes—and then ? "
" Well, father and I hadn't any cards, so Virginia
just sent in hers."
" Good Heavens ! You don't mean that ? "
" Wasn't it a rum thing to do, Cousin Con-
m
162
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
stance?" asked Virginia. "I said it was at the
time."
" Well, I positively never did hear of such a thing.
Don't tell Miss Spout, my dear, for your life."
" It ain't likely," said Virginia. I'm not mad in
love with that sort of female."
" Fie, Virginia!" said Mary, smiling. " You
know you promised to do your best to like her."
" Yes, but my best's bad, Cousin Mary."
" And did his lordship come to you at once—not
that he could well help himself if he would, after the
card ? "
" Come to us! I should think so," said Sam.
" He danced us from one room into another, till I
can't remember anything I saw, except that the walls
were covered with sprawling counterpanes, and a
horrid hole called a dead-room, or something of that
sort. We ended up with a picture show of men and
women who have been dead and buried I don't
know how long."
" Long live impudence !" exclaimed Miss Lydham.
" My dear uncle, a year in Timoleonopolis would be
a capital investment for some English-bred girls.
Will you take charge of us ?"
" To be sure, my dear. And you shall be with
Virginny every day of the three hundred and sixty-
five, so as to grow up like her."
" Oh, thank you, uncle," said Constance, with a
smile.
" I guess it might suit us both, Cousin Constance,"
said Virginia ; " or it mightn't."
" And what do you think of this Lord Lumsey of
ours, Virginia ? " asked Miss Lydham.
u there's ho harm in thinking oe a man.'' 16b
" Oh, I haven't thought much about him. He is a
dark man, with some 'go' in him, I should say, if he
likes to let it out. Anyhow, he was very kind to us
this afternoon."
" Did he ask where you came from ? "
" Yes, and we told him from the States ; but it's
likely he could have told us that."
" If we've all done," said Sam, pushing his chair
back from the table, " come and stretch your fingers,
Cousin Mary, on that piano of yours. Father will
drop off at once, and I guess I'm not so undutiful,
after a twenty-mile walk, as to say ' Shant' to his
example—that is, if you play up well, Cousin Mary."
CHAPTER XVIII.
" look, my loud, it comes ! "
By next morning the Americans had quite recovered
from their long walk, except Uncle Foster, who
petitioned for breakfast in bed.
His request was acceded to, of course, and Martha,
who had never before seen a gentleman in bed, put
on her whitest of overalls, that she might present
a pretty and spotless appearance in the sick room.
But Martha was disappointed in this, for Virginia
took upon herself the office of attending on her father.
"Nothing could be properer," remarked Martha,
self-condolently; "but I wouldn't have washed myself
at this hour of day if I'd have thought she had it in
her. I took her for one of them sunshine muslins as
shrink at the first drop of rain."
Virginia was with her father, and the Misses
Lydham were preparing for school, when tbe door-
bell rang. It was Mr, Cathcart, who had called to
inquire if Miss Lydham had caugh.t a cold from
sitting on the bank in the country lane. Martha
begged him to go upstairs by himself.
When he entered the room he found Samuel
Foster alone.
"Ah, glad to see you, mister," said Sam, cordially.
" Take a chair, do. It's spice to a man's mind to get
a rub with his fellow-men. I've had a nice time with
the ladies here "—(Mr. Cathcart, standing by the door,
listening to the exordium, opened his eyes wide)—
"look, my lord, it comes!" 165
" a very nice time, I must say. But, after all, it ain't
the thing for a man to live with women long.
They're very sweet for a bit, but, lor ! I tire of them
a long chalk sooner than of men. That your ex-
perience? "
" Oh, really," said the curate, stiffly, and not
attempting to shut the door; " I'm obliged to you
for your confidence ; but it's an odd question to put
to a man you don't know."
"Ah! a stranger! Then there's just a pair of us! "
"Hardly a stranger here, sir, if you mean that,"
said the curate. " I am intimately acquainted with
the Misses Lydham. They are parishioners."
" Oh ! they're that, are they ? Well, I reckon you
don't complain of them as individual sheep of the
flock?"
The curate frowned. He disliked the tone of this
conversation excessively, and began to feel quite
wickedly disposed towards this young man.
" Can you tell me if Miss Lydham is at home ? "
he asked, with strong self-repression.
"Well, I can't, that's a fact. They may be in
their sanctuary, and they may not be. All ladies
like their looking-glasses, and my sister is to hers as
a Jonathan to a David—ahem! suitable illustration
for present company, perhaps? "
Mr. Cathcart raised his eyebrows. He could do
this very expressively, and it was a significant action
at little cost. " I'm sorry to hear it, sir," he said.
" Don't worry yourself," retorted Sam, interrupting
him. " My sister is capable of looking after herself,
I warrant. But must you go ? I'm main sorry; for
it's a pleasure to speak to a man—Avhether he says
166
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
anything in return, or whether he's as mum as a door
—doremouse, mister."
"Will you he good enough to tell Miss Lydham
that I shall look in again?" said the curate. It was
a final shot, and he intended it to rake the conscience
of his auditor, and scatter a few splinters of humility
about his proud spirit ; and his manner lent severity
to his words, as he turned on his heel.
"All right," said Sam. " But hadn't you better
give me your card ? One can't read names • like
characters. How, if you wanted your character told
off hand "
" There, sir, is my card," said Mr. Cathcart, laying
the pasteboard on the table with what dignity he
could assume. " My character will improve by
keeping. I wish you Good-day."
" Reverend William Cathcart! " said the young
American, taking up and reading the card. "Well,
Mr. Reverend Cathcart, I don't form such a high
opinion of you as you do yourself."
When Miss Lydham came downstairs Sam gave
her the card carelessly, saying that a tall young man
in a minister's coat had left it, and that the visitor did
not seem to him (Samuel Foster) the sweetest-
tempered exponent of gospel truths that it had been
his lot through life to encounter. He was proceeding
to say something more, not a whit less complimentary
to the curate, when Miss Lydham stopped him rather
sharply : " Why did he not wait ? "
"Well," said Sam, smiling with more nonchalance
than grace, " if I'm to speak the truth, I guess it was
because he didn't like to spend any more time in my
company."
" LOOK, MY LORD, IT COMES ! "
167
" So I might have supposed," said Constance,
flushing, and, in the excitement of her feelings,
breaking the card in her hand.
"And do you see much of that young minister ? "
inquired Sam, reversing his seat, and bestriding the
cushion, so that he could rest his arm on the back of
the chair.
" So much," said Miss Lydham, rapidly and hotly,
"that I should be sorry if, owing to you, it were less."
" Now, reallv ! Cousin Constance."
J */
" It is no use being angry with you," said Miss
Lydham, smiling against the grain; " so please
remember, Cousin Sam, that you ought to cultivate
his acquaintance—particularly."
"Oh, I'm agreeable enough," said he. "But it
ain't much use sowing in ground that don't take
kindly to the seed, d'you see ? Making acquaintance,
friends, and that ain't done by Act of Congress, or
Parliament. However, as I said, I'm willing."
"I'm glad of that," said Miss Lydham, brightening.
" For you must know that he is a very especial
friend indeed. I was only afraid that you had been
prejudicing yourself against him."
" Oh, he is—is he ? "
" Yes, and until you came was a daily visitor."
" Then why has he stopt ? Not frightened at us,
do you think, eh, Cousin Constance ? "
" Hardly frightened. But he is a gentleman, Sam,
and gentlemen are chary about intruding."
" That's simply capital, Cousin Constance ! You
are all so careful not to tread on each other's toes;
and yet, by Washington! you can't move a shoe or a
slipper, nor speak a word, without riling someone or
1G8
VIRGINIA, THE A3IERICAN.
other, or stamping upon somebody's corns. Still, I'm
glad he's that sort. It's new, if not nice."
" Be civil, sir, if you please."
" It's a fact, Cousin Constance, all the same. You're
so amazingly tightly-packed in this little bit of an
island that you always have to stand on your toes, if
you're not to go down and be trampled on. It makes
you look outrageous high and mighty, and keeps you
in a shocking state of bubbling ill-humour. But it
won't wear, Cousin Constance ; human nature cant
bear it. Out in the open you are like pelicans among
the carnivora—bound to be eaten up, withal your tall
legs and prodigious nasal appendages."
" That will do," said Miss Lydham, laughing.
" You must certainly go on some platform. But, I
warn you, you must change your tone if you want to
convince women that you are as knowing as—as you
think yourself, Cousin Sam. I must go now, and
leave you to amuse Virginia as best }mu can."
We must now revert to the curate.
It was a sharp touch of " pride " that made Mr.
Cathcart feel so uncomfortable when he turned his
back on Samuel Foster, that traced the lines of a
frown on his forehead, and made him press his lips so
firmly together that his chin assumed a breadth and
solidity ordinarily not characteristic of that part of
him. He drew the door after him rather uncivilly.
But, all at once, ere he had loosed the handle, his
face relaxed, and he regained that placid look of his
which was so comforting to hot-headed, soft-willed
stragglers along the thorny paths of life—stragglers
who seemed to think it their duty to go pell-mell amid
the brambles and nettles, taking all the stings and
" LOOK, MY LORD, IT COMES ! " 169
scratches in their way as so much predestined mor-
tification.
The curate did not descend the stairs, hut waited
for Virginia, that she might pass him more readily.
And, while he waited, he watched the girl ascending
slowly, with a small tray in her hand, the snowy
pinafore to her knees, and the bit of fluttering mauve
ribbon in her hair. Her eyes were upon her burden,
so that .she did not look up until his feet were within
the*range of her vision. Then she raised her head.
So this was Warmington's "uncommon" girl!
This was the young American whom Constance
Lydham had given him to understand was wanting in
all the requisites of young ladyhood—nay, was all
but vulgar!
The curate stared. And, since the man was in her
way, Virginia had no alternative but to wait until he
had made up his mind whether he would go to the
right or left of her—a matter about which he seemed
very undecided.
The slightest inclination of the head, which had
come from her almost involuntarily, when she saw
him, was the barest of civilities, yet the curate lost
his countenance over it, and, still worse, could not
conceal his loss. At length he blurted out his, " I
beg your pardon," and, stepping into the drawing-
room doorway, he gave Virginia sufficient space to
get at the second flight of stairs. She thanked him
lightly, spilt a little of her father's coffee, and then
went on her way. But, ere she had taken four steps
upwards, she turned her head, and, observing that
the wonderstruck curate had not moved, bestowed on
him a second nod, like the first, only this time accom-
170
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
panied by a wavering little smile that went to his
heart. He sped down the stairs, taking the last five
steps at a bound, and was soon in the street (now
populous with the scholars of the Lydhams' school).
Not a morsel of the bad humour, which was blood
relation to pride, remained in him. He had quite
forgotten the brother in the sight he had obtained of
the sister.
Mr. Cathcart walked so fast across tho Long
that Miss Spout, who- chanced to be leaving *the
butcher's shop just then, re-entered the shop to ask
Mr. Slaughter if he knew who was ill, as she felt
positive the curate was going to administer the Sacra-
ment to somebody—she knew his way of crossing
the street when that was in view, she said.
But Mr. Slaughter had not heard of anyone being
ill to that degree. Moreover, probably owing to his
long acquaintance with blood and death, he had not
much sympathy with the softness of the nature of
Miss Spout (who was fond of trumpery little bits of
meat, with no bone, superfluous fat, or surreptitious
offal about them), and he told her rather sharply that
if Mr. Cathcart had purposed administering the last
Sacrament every time he happened to walk out in
that style, there would not, by this, be enough
demand for dead meat, on the part of live Borton, to
enable him to pay his rent, let alone live himself—
which " coarseness, my dear Miss Clack" (she called
it a day or two later, when Mr. Slaughter's words
had had time to fester within her meek spirit), sent
Miss Spout down the street in a flutter.
In truth, Mr. Cathcart's mind was too full of
Virginia's face to think of sick parishioners. He
" LOOK, MY LORD, IT COMES ! "
171
hurried down the side street out of the Long, and met
his fellow-curate at the door of their lodgings, with
his visage as long and pensive as if he had been
engaged in a futile attempt at elucidation of an
obscure passage in Saint Chrysostom.
" What is the matter?" asked Mr. Warmington.
" Nothing," said the other, making as though he
intended to go indoors.
" Don't go in, if you can spare time for a stroll.
Can you? "
" I don't know. I preach to-morrow evening."
" Come out first of all. You have the whole after-
noon for your sermon, and you will write better after
a walk."
Of course Mr. Cathcart yielded. He was accus-
tomed to give way to the senior curate in most
things, and to be influenced very greatly' by him,
none the less that oftentimes this influence was
exercised over him in spite of himself.
"What is it, Will? " asked Warmington, when he
had taken the other's arm.
" What is what ? " .
" Oh, your face is very tell-tale. You have seen a
ghost? "
"No—it was a woman."
" A woman! My dear fellow, you must reform,
believe me. You are much too susceptible for your
own peace of mind—and, forgive me, for your pro-
fession."
Mr. Cathcart laughed a little ironically. Like all
young men " of parts," he indulged in satire, per-
haps more often at his own than anyone else's
expense : for such satire is an excellent fillip for the
172
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
wits, and by no means the foe to self-respect it may
seem to be.
" My dear Warmington, what would you do with-
out me ? I believe you owe all" your best thoughts
to me, and I'm sure you regard me as a walking and
talking commentary on the weakness of human
nature."
" Don't talk like that," said the other, rather
sternly. " I take it you are an erring man like myself,
and every other man, but I should be doing you a
wrong, Will, and doing myself a wrong, if I did not
do what I could to help you to profit by my own
experiences. I have had my own troubles, and you
surely don't think me impertinent if I try to save you
from falling where I have fallen."
" Forgive me, Warmington," said the other,
pressing his friend's arm ; " I know you only for the
best fellow in the world, and myself as your anti-
podes."
" Then what is the matter, Will ? "
Mr. Cathcart laughed a second time, though this
time more genuinely. It was the laugh of submis-
sion.
" Well, the fact is, I have just seen the young lady
you spoke about yesterday—the Lydhams' cousin,
and "
"She surprised you? "
" Completely. She is very pretty, Warmington."
" Quite unique. And so she took your breath away?"
" At first, literally. I met her on the stairs, and
had no introduction, you know ; but it must have
been she. Why, I expected to see a—a —I mean I
thought she was- very different."
" LOOK, MY LORbj IT COMES 1 "
178
i( Well, and you are surprised, yet not disappointed?
You enviable fellow, Will. But put an end to the
affair now. Enrol Miss Foster—I think that is her
name—among the many other beautiful creatures of
God whom you have been privileged to see, and
forget the reality in the ideal."
" Oh, I say, Warmington, that's all very well in
theory and philosophy ; but I'm not such a lump of
ice as you are. When once I've seen something
beautiful I want to see it again."
" Do you remember that favourite passage of mine,
Will, in one of the old quartos, about women and
temptation ? "
" I can't say I do, and more, I don't see what it
has to do with you or me in this case."
" Possibly, nothing. It came to my mind, and I
thought I'd recall it to you."
The two men were now in the lane which had been
the scene of the tete-a-tete between Mr. Cathcart and
Miss Lydham on the previous day. They came, in time,
to the very spot over which the raven had held soli-
loquy; but Mr. Cathcart passed the tree-trunk with
his eyes turned the other way. Either his mind was
intent on something which would not let him look in
that direction, or else he did not like the reminiscence
well enough to cherish it.
" Will," said the senior curate, after an interval of
several minutes, " I owe my strongest motives for
living an honest and sober life to the disenchantment
I suffered when quite a young fellow."
•" Indeed!"
" Yes, disenchantment. I was in love twice, and
each time the woman I loved proved herself to be—I
174 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN,
am almost ashamed to say it—unworthy of being loved
by me. May I be forgiven for saying so. The first
time, I thought my heart would break, but I need not
tell you that men's hearts do not break. The second
time, I thought I should have to resign the curacy I
then held. But there, I can't talk more of it. A
whole year of my life I look upon as utterly wasted,
and all because I staked too much on earthly love.
It was rampant selfishness in disguise, of course, and
what I suffered I deserved. Still, it has been a
lesson."
"I should think so," said the other. "I am
awfully sorry for you."
" Then look out for yourself, my dear fellow.
Don't make love everything, lest you be tempted
some day to utter that stupidest and most enervating
of pseudo-philosophical croaks, cVana vanitas !
" All the same, Warmington," said Mr. Cathcart,
" I must see something more of Miss Lydham's
cousin. I want to hear her speak, for when I saw
her this morning she had no chance of opening her
mouth."
"Then 'ware disillusion," said Mr. Warmington,
laughing.
CHAPTER XIX.
" who trusts his eyes will never rise."
Late in the morning of this same Saturday some
little excitement was caused at the east end of the
Long Street in Borton by the dogcart of Lord
Lumsey, drawn by a chestnut horse, effervescing with
superabundant blood and spirit, and driven by his
lordship in person : his lordship, in a high, well-
starched collar, and a velvet coat buttoned to his
chin; his lordship sitting straight as an arrow, and
handling the whip as only a man who has made
whip-handling a special study, can handle a whip ;
his lordship, an embodiment of grace and high
breeding, with a spic-and-span tiger-boy sitting back
to back with him, with arms crossed, a contemptuous
eye, and a curled lip!
Such tradespeople as could not see what was
passing outside without going to their doors rushed
to their doors immediately. Their lives were so
uniform that they welcomed anything which might
cuff or kindle their sensibilities into activity, and, to
practised ears like most of the ears of Borton, it was
easy to distinguish the magnificent tread of a
thoroughbred from the sing-song trot of the farmers'
mares, the deliberate sledge-hammering of the dray
horses from Houghton, or the gentle pit-a-pat of the
meek-spirited creatures which drew the few chaises
of the well-to-do old ladies in the suburbs.
His lordship, as unconscious as Jove of the two
176
VIRGINIA, THE! AMERICAN,
hundred eyes regarding him, and equally heedless of
the five-score souls which illumined the two hundred
eyes with passions as diverse as the bodies they
animated, rattled through the street until he had gone
half its length. Then he slackened, and finally
stopped. Down jumped the tiger-boy. Three distinct
times he touched his gold-banded hat to his lordship,
and then, in a graceful canter, he disappeared up the
passage leading from the Long towards the church.
Here was subject for marvel and conjecture. His
lordship—dressed in his best (for sure there could be
none better than the clothes he wore) had driven
into Borton, so wrapt up in thought as to be quite inr
different to the looks and bows and curtseys tendered
irregularly by the ladies of independent means, the
grocer, the baker, the butcher, and sundry dependent
ladies, respectively, whom he had passed in his course
—had driven into Borton, and stopped bythe church !
Such conduct could portend nothing less than his
lordship's marriage, said all the best-informed gossips;
andftnovices in tattling, such as had not fleshed their
tongues in the many direful subjects of talk which
the vagaries of human nature supply perennially, who
thought it possible that his lordship might have come
into Borton for some other purpose, held their peace.
The marriage supposition being carried nem. con.,
it only remained to indicate the lady. It chanced,
therefore, that an hour or two after the appearance
of Lord Lumsey in the Long Street, Borton, the
knowing ones of the place had canvassed one by one
all the unmarried and eligible slips of female nobility,
within a radius of fifty miles from Borton ; and had,
with all but unanimity, even gone so far as to name
"who trusts his eyes will never rise." 177
the honourable young lady whom they deemed most
worthy, and, therefore, of course, the most likely
object, of his lordship's affection. The young lady in
question had dark blue eyes, and was an earl's
daughter : she was not as haughty as most; and had
been seen by Borton eyes actually engaged in visiting
the cottage of a sick woman ; aye, and more than
visiting—for to leave a tract were to perpetrate a
visit, whereas, this young lady had omitted the tract
and left a purse behind her instead. Nothing could
be more befitting than that an earl's daughter should
marry an earl. And so the match might well have
been taken for granted, but for one sceptical or, at
least, inquiring spirit.
This spirit crept down the lane leading to the
church, and knocked at the door of the house where
the beadle of St. Simon's dwelt, with his wife.
Heedless of its reputation for courtesy so that its
reputation for news might be maintained, the spirit
put the question straight: what business had brought*
his lordship's man-servant down that way, eh ? The
beadle's wife was out; and the inquiring spirit was
of the feminine gender. The beadle, therefore, was
comparatively unfurnished with weapons of defence.
Had his wife been at home, he would have feared
nothing ; for she was a woman who claimed, and
therefore received, much more respect at the hands
of the village collectively and individually than the
beadle himself, whose glory she was so successful in
absorbing that he had none wherewith to console and
exalt himself. But, as it was, the beadle was helpless.
He forthwith confessed that his lordship's pew was to
be prepared for morning service next day ; and that
N
178 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
his lordship had sent word particularly that he did
not want "those dirty old rags " left up between him
and the congregation—by which "rags," explained
the beadle, in.a low tone of horror, "his lordship
meant his pink velvet curtains, Mrs. , only think."
Still, this sacrilege apart, the beadle confessed that
it was a great event; that it seemed to show his
lordship was awakening to better things ; that he had
had his fling (mystic phrase, more significant, doubt-
less, to wiser men than to the Borton beadle himself!) ;
and intended thenceforward to be a good church-
going young man.
And, the inquiring spirit having admitted that it
was a very great event—an event to which nothing
since Mrs. Macpherson's fit and subsequent death in
the vestry during the vicar's sermon about Ananias
and Sapphira, could be compared—thanked the beadle
for his news, congratulated him on the " pink velvet
curtains," which would certainly rank as a perquisite,
m spite of the beadle's indignant vociferations to the
contrary, and went her way.
Of course, long ere the sun had thought of setting
that day, all Borton had abandoned the idea of the
earl's daughter. Why had his lordship thought of
coming to church ? This was the new problem.
But, even after considering the matter for many
heated hours, the citizens could not for the life of
them assign a reason for Lord Lumsey's sudden
fancy.
"Young men don't get converted from the error of
their ways all of a sudden "—this seemed to be the
general verdict, expressed or not; though, if any one
of them in particular had been asked to state in
"WHO TRUSTS HIS EYES WTLL NEVER RISE." 179
concise terms what he meant by the implication that
Lord Lumsey had been a prodigious rake, he would
have been unable to say anything more definite than
that his lordship had been a soldier ; had travelled
round the world (and been two mortal years about it) ;
and, since his return from foreign parts to Lumsey,
had not come among them, shaking hands, and
showing that spirit of universal benevolence and
beneficence which they would have so gladly wel-
corned in him.
It was very hard saying what was in the wind—
very indeed!
And so they determined to wait and see the out-
come of his lordship's visit to church ; and if, after
that, they could not satisfactorily explain the serious
change, the deuce was certainly at the bottom of it.
When Lord Lumsey had done with the beadle of
Saint Simon's, he drove out a little way into the
country. Then he stopped, and, having ascertained
from the boy that it was possible to re-enter the town
without retracing their steps, he yielded to the lad's
directions, and soon rattled into a lane not very
distantly parallel with the Long itself.
" I want to get to Heather Street—ris it ?" said his
lordship ; and the boy replied that there would be no
difficulty in getting there, if his lordship would take
the second turning on the left.
"And now," said his lordship a minute later,
"jump down, John, and ask which house the
Lydhams live in."
But there was no need to do this. John, the boy,,
during his master's travels, had frequently gone
into Borton very early, and, returning, had, in the
180 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
exuberance of his youthful spirits, now and again,
chaffed certain of the small boys who attended the
Misses Lydham school. He had done it repeatedly,
until his insults had become an irregular preface to the
morning's schooling, and were at length so in-
tolerable that his victims formed a plan for seizing
the enemy one fine morning, and dragging him
before the Misses Lydham in person. This plan was
executed on the whole successfully, though there had
been much difference of opinion among his captors
as to whether or not it was derogatory in them, as
men, to take the insulter to women for chastisement.
They had huge hopes of seeing Master John put
across a form and served with what they called
"slipper sauce;" and these hopes were the keener,
inasmuch as John had called them by names
implying that it was degrading to submit, as he
evidently supposed they did submit, to be slippered,
one by one, every school day of their lives, as a part
of their education. These hopes, however, were
disappointed. Martha had opened the door as usual
on that morning, and, seeing flushed faces, torn
collars, several blots of what might have been red
ink on. several faces, and a rather vulgar boy, not
a scholar, in the hands of about six of the bigger
boys, asked for an explanation before she would
admit them into the house. She did not choose to
have her step dirtied for every freak under the sun,
she said. When they had told her, in fierce ejacula-
tory language, how matters stood, she laughed,
relieved them of Master John, who saw that he had
met his match, and led this young gentleman into
the kitchen. To the great disgust of the scholars,
u WHO TRUSTS HIS EYES WILL NEVER RISE." 181
Martha then shut the door; and, though they did
their best to hear what was going on while they
wiped their feet, the spanks and cries that reached
their ears no more satisfied them, unaccompanied by
the sight of John's sufferings, than the smell of
pudding at a cookshop window satisfies a fasting
stomach. It was very sweet to them, afterwards,
however, to see the way in which Martha conducted
the victim, all tear-bestained as to his face, by the
collar, through the passage, and discharged him into
the street, over the steps, as though she were
emptying a jug of water. And, from that day for-
ward, John and the little boys of the Misses Lydham
school generally kept on opposite sides of the way,
with their respective noses well in the air. Yes ;
John knew where the Misses Lydham lived, quite
well.
" Then just ring at the door, ask how Miss Foster
is, and leave that card. Foster, mind. Don't go
mixing it with double Glo'ster, or something stupid.
D'ye hear?"
And, with many signs of reverence, intelligence,
and obedience, John went to the door. He was as
different a being, in top boots and a gold-banded hat,
from the rather uncleanly lad in morning clothes,
whom Martha had whipped, as could well be
imagined.
He rang the bell, as only a lord's delegate or a
postman would *have the conscience to ring a bell,
gave his message haughtily, as became him, and,
with much inward satisfaction received for answer
that Miss Foster was pretty tidy after her long walk,
and would his lordship please to walk in ?
182
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"No, I won't! " said John; "that is, I can't just
now, will you say? That's all!" and, with joyful
conceit in his heart at having passed for a lord, and
a pang of regret that he could not have committed
some such arbitrary act of power on the body of
Martha, as he thought might be within the pre-
rogative of lords, John returned to his master.
Miss Foster was pretty and well, he said ; and he
had left the card as his lordship had bidden him.
" Then jump up smartly," said Lord Lumsey, and
he whipped the horse until the animal's tail showed
the unmistakable anger in the animal's heart, until
John, having covertly peeped round his neck to see
if he could discern any symptoms of madness in his
lordship's outline, found it prudent to uncross his
arms and hold tight on both sides, and until the
hedges and trees seemed to fly past with the speed
they take to themselves when viewed from a railway
train.
CHAPTER XX.
" one is not always seen to advantage."
Martha conveyed the card upstairs immediately.
At first she was not going to honour it with the tray.
But her eye caught the coronet above the single
name," Lumsey;" and the sight of this made her re-
member proprieties. She took her time in ascending
the stairs, however : for Martha had corns whose
number increased with her years ; and she was won-
dering within her if it was the rule for lords and titled
gentry to have no Christian name. Supposing that
she were a duchess by birth, or that she married an
earl, would she then and thenceforward be known to
herself and the world as bare Scrawcombe? It
would seem so. But, if this were the case, assuredly
it would be with her a strong prejudice against any
member of the nobility who might think well to sue
for her hand. She was used to Martha—her mother
had been Martha before her; and it would be very
painful indeed to be Scrawcombe this, and Scraw-
combe that, whether she liked it or no. Certainly, it
would appear that there were substantial drawbacks
to being one of the great folks.
" A card for you, Miss," she said, when she entered
the room.
" For me ? " exclaimed Virginia, agape. " 'Taint
possible."
"Well, Miss, if you're Miss Foster, it's for you.
His lordship said it most particular."
184 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Hey ! " said Uncle Foster, who had been brought
downstairs, and propped with cushions in the deepest
of the drawing-room armchairs.
" It's that lord of yesterday, I'll bet," said Sam.
" Anyhow, we'll settle it," said Virginia, taking
the card. " Well I never ! if it ain't Lord Lumsey,
after all! And did he say anything along of it? "
" He asked after your health, Miss, and said as he
couldn't come in just at present. He was going a
hunting, if I might say what I think, by his boots."
" Thank you," said Virginia ; and Martha left the
room.
"Well! if it ain't darnation cool, father," re-
marked Sam, " I never did."
" Oh, it's a bit of attention," said Uncle Foster,
drawing his hand languidly across his forehead.
" And I call it handsome in him."
" It's very polite, anyway," said Virginia. " I'll
just take care of it. I guess it'll interest them in
Timoleonopolis.
Having shown the dainty morsel of emblazoned
pasteboard to her father and Sam, Virginia enclosed
it in a little Russia-leather pocket-book which she
always carried about with her for memoranda pur-
poses, and then resumed her study of Montieth
on the imports and exports of the continents of the
world. She had manuscript before her, and the
sheets were dotted with figures, and comments in
short-hand writing. She was engaged in calculating
how soon each continent might be self-supporting.
Such an eventuality she regarded as a mere question
of time. As civilisation progressed, climatic in-
fluences would be overcome ; apples would be grown
"one is not always seen to advantage." 185
in the tropics as easily as rice, tobacco, and pine-
apples in the temperate zones. There would be no
such heading in revenue returns as "customs;" and,
if public incomes were needed in the future (which
was very problematical), such incomes would have
to be raised in new ways. The inhabitants of our
globe would, by then, have shaken themselves out
over the world in exact ratios to the producing and
supporting qualities of the various divisions of the
world. Kings and queens would long have been
obsolete, and the effigies of them held in as much
esteem by the people of the globe as Egyptian
mummies now-a-days. Everyone, in both hemispheres,
would be born civilised. Everyone would speak
Anglo-Saxon, and govern himself—or herself. The
man or woman who might dare to assume rule over
even a single other human being of the earth would
have the thousands of millions of his fellow men and
women up in arms against him. The elysium of
those great men, Elihu Burritt and John Bright,
would have become realised. No one would think of
war, for there would be no creature on the earth—
man or beast—in the savage, i.e., the warlike state.
The seas and oceans of the globe would swarm with
electric unsinkable boats, the air would be darkened
by clouds of balloons ; but neither the balloons nor
the boats would have any interest in what we call
" commerce." They would be used for inter-com-
municatory purposes, nothing more.
Such was the fancy picture this American girl had
sketched out. When each division of the world
could support its inhabitants on its own products, she
imagined the picture would be in a fair way of reali-
186
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
sation. She had long been in the habit, every now
and again, of exciting the people of Timoleonopolis
by articles similar in tone to this one. No wonder,
therefore, that some of her fellow-citizens styled her
a prophetess. They would have gone even further,
and dubbed her a visionary, but for the germ of
practicality discoverable in all—even the most uncom-
promising—of her articles. As it was, in their loyalty,
they were ready to give her credit for excessive
wisdom and prescience when they read what they
could not understand, rather than discredit her for
their own justification.
" Father," said Virginia, after a time, u I think
this overshoots me. I must give it up."
" Then do, my dear," said Uncle Foster. " It's
no crime to get out of your depth : the thing is to
get back ; and it ain't too late for that, I suppose."
" I wish Sam could finish it for me."
" Sam knows how far his mouth will stretch," said
her brother. " He keeps to white tracks, if you please."
Virginia sighed prettily, put her writings together,
and folded them up.
" I feel it just cowardly, father," she said, " to
throw a thing over like this. But if neither you nor
Sam will do anything for me, I can't help it."
" Come, my love," said Uncle Foster, nestling his
head in the pillows, " you are on a holiday, remember,
and so are we. Let your eyes get some brightness
in them, my dear, and give your young brain a rest."
" Do as your brother does," said Sam, ironically.
" I guess it ain't his fault if he don't go to seed soon."
" Oh, I've a fancy," said Virginia, starting, and
sitting straight on her chair.
"one is not always seen to advantage." 187
" Off with the old before on with the new, Vir-
ginny," murmured Sam.
" Don't," said Virginia. " Let me speak. You
haven't seen that old church up the street, and it's a
good lot to see—gravestones and all. The man who
told me all about it said that he'd do as much for
i
you."
" A curate, wasn't he? " asked Sam.
" He told me he was, if I ain't forgetting myself."
"Well, he's been here this morning, and talked
like as he was on a tight rope. Oh, hang it, father,
I can't abear the high falutin' style of these young
Englishers."
" It must have been him, Sam, that I had to
squeeze by, to take father his breakfast. He stuck in
the way, and wouldn't move."
" Then it were him, Virginny. Ho one could do
the sticking better, I should say."
" I think you're hard on him, Sam, ain't you ? I
can tell you he tickled my fancy a bit, staring with
big, solemn eyes, like owls', on me, while I climbed
the stairs. Perhaps he'll be preaching to-morrow."
" Oh, then, I'll laugh if he does. Such a bean-
stick. I affirm he can't say much to go to my
marrow, however it may be with the folks here."
" You're awful prejudiced, Sam," said Virginia.
" Anyhow, I'll do the listening for the family. What
I saw of him, I say, I liked ; but then he hadn't a
chance of opening his mouth."
" And that's just what makes the difference, Vir-
"ginny. Any fool with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth
can look solemn, and what some asses would call
handsome, if he just stares with his eyes, and keeps
188
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
his mouth shut. It's when he begins to show his stuff
that he makes a body cotton to him or hate him."
" Oh, do hush you, Sam. I hate that word " hate."
It oughtn't to be used ever, against our own likenesses,
I'm thinking."
"Except by yourself, I suppose. Wal, and if you
were right (which you ain't), it don't matter, Yir-
ginny, for I don't reckon that long chap among
my likenesses, thank God."
" Now, shut up, Sam, for I want to think," and the
girl began to suck her pencil anew, and scribble off
something on paper as quickly as her hand would
let her.
If Virginia had been a girl who made appearances
her sole study, she would surely have foresworn
paper and pencil and thinking altogether, for, truth
to tell, she did not show to advantage under the
influence of one of her writing fits. At such times
her face seemed to reflect the working of her mind:
it was an arena on which lights and shades hustled
each other in a quick, spasmodic way. Her mouth
now and again would open- and widen, and her lips
be drawn up and down, so as to bare her teeth, and
give her a weirdly ravening expression. True, she
had beautiful teeth ; but white teeth in themselves do
not constitute beauty, any more than the colour of an
eye can make an eye repulsive. She frowned, too, a
great deal, and frowns give a harassed or wild look to
eyes the most charming in repose. And, whether due
to the frowns or the nervous strain, when her head
was thus bent over her work, the back of her neck
was not the graceful part of her that one would
expect and wish it to be. Lastly, Virginia habitually
" ONE IS NOT ALWAYS SEEN TO ADVANTAGE." 189
bit her nails when in want of a word or an idea, and
every one knows that neither the act of such biting
nor the result is becoming to a young woman, how-
soever white the teeth used in the business. It was
due to her tact that so few of her personal friends at
Timoleonopolis knew of the disfigurement her hands
suffered from this feverish habit. Out of doors, she
never failed to wear gloves, and, indoors, strangers,
as a rule, liked looking at her face better than
thinking about her hands, which were generally so
folded that the tips of her fingers were hidden.
When Virginia reflected about herself and remem-
bered her hands, she was wont to sigh lightly, but
console herself with the fancy that she so far sacri-
ficed her appearance pro bono publico.
" My dear Virginia," said Mary Lydham, when
the scholars were dismissed, and their joyous shout-
ing had died away, " you could ruin Constance and
me if you liked."
"Ruin! How?"
" Why, my dear, you have won the hearts of those
six boys, so that it would be the easiest thing in the
world to win their mothers' hearts also, and that,
you know, is the secret of school-keeping."
" Oh, I won't ruin you, then, Cousin Mary," said
Virginia, laughing; "keeping school would be to me
like sitting on a razor's edge, I'm sure it would."
" Oh, my dear ! You make me uncomfortable by
speaking of such a thing."
" Mary," said Sam, " I don't reckon it much for a
girl like Virginny to trap the hearts of those little
fellows. It's like catching gudgeon in a rpool,
190
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
nothing easier ; but you're as hungry before as after,
and not one bit proud of the feat."
"Well, Sam, you shall have six of Conny's girls
on Monday, and see what yon can do."
" Oh, will I ? " cried Sam, laughing. " No, Mary,
none of your school chits for me."
" Behold the monster, Virginia. He has not a
grain of delicacy in him. But for his extraordinary
coarseness I would have given him credit for modesty
rather than vanity in thus refusing my offer."
" I can't abide girls, Cousin Mary, and that's a
fact," said Sam. " But, mind you, I say girls, not
women—which is as different as green gooseberries
and brown ones ! "
" Coarseness personified ! " exclaimed Mary.
"By the by," asked Sam, "did Virginia tell you
about the Miss 1 forget their names, but they
were three little boarding-school lassies whom Aunt
Isabel got to amuse us at Norton Jarrets ? "
"No. What is it?"
" One of them had hair all down her back, and blue
bows half way down her hair. She had eyes like
saucers, and couldn't speak without blushing. The
second had hair like the first, only with pink bows
instead of blue. She had attacks of giggles every
now and then, which Aunt Isabel never understood,
looking everywhere but in the right direction to find
out what the noises meant and where they came from.
And the last boarding-school lass was about twice as
tall as the other two ; she dwindled to a point at the
top—which was her head, poor girl. I couldn't look
at her without thinking of a pin. She hadn't much
hair—she couldn't cultivate such crops as the other
"ONE IS NOT ALWAYS SEEN TO ADVANTAGE." 191
two, I guess—but what she had was done up in a
knot, as though to make her head seem a little bigger
than it really was. Now, just fancy, Mary, these
three girls put to amuse Virginia and me! Father
wouldn't have anything to do with them, the know-
ing old boy ! He chucked them under the chin one
by one, asked after their dollies, and then went to
read his paper in the corner. If I'd had a paper, I'd
have done likewise. They sat bolt upright, Cousin
Mary, like tenpenny nails, except when the poor tall
one now and again bent her back, for a change, and
kept their feet and legs pretty nigh horizontal. I
never had such a go of laughing in my life as in my
bedroom that night."
" Oh, Sam ! Was it as bad as this, Virginia—or
is he exaggerating? " asked Mary.
" Not a bit of it, Cousin Mary. I looked at them
till I might have thought they were waxworks ! "
" Did they come again ? "
"No," said Sam, "though our worthy Aunt Isabel
had the courage to ask them. She expressed a hope
that they had had a very pleasant evening when they
left, and they said they had, the shocking little
fibbers! so she asked them to come the very next
day, but they didn't come, nor ever again."
" I should think not, indeed. What a barbarian
you are, Sam ! "
" Me ! Well, well; I reckon one mustn't look to
ladies for justice, so I'll be resigned. But, by-the-by,
Cousin Mary, who was that young man in black
that came this morning—the Reverend William
Cathcart ? "
" Why, he's one of the curates, and a great friend
192
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
of ours—a most particular friend of one of us, I may
say," and Mary made her face as expressive as she
could.
Sam whistled.
" You don't mean that, now, do you ? "
"I said nothing, sir!" said Mary. "Do you
understand, Virginia?"
"7 don't cotton-wool my understanding, Cousin
Mary, whatever Sam may do."
" I don't think much of him," said Sam; " and I
shouldn't best like to think he was to be a cousin of
ours."
"Oh, for goodness' sake, Sam!" cried Mary, hold-
ing up her hands in affected horror and alarm. " For
goodness' sake, don't jump to conclusions so. What
do you mean ? "
"Hey! what! Didn't I catch your meaning?
I thought you said it as good as "
" Ho, sir! " said Mary. " That's precisely what I
didn't do. You must learn to recognise things
without saying or hearing a word about them,
or you'll never do for England, Sam. England,
Sam, is the land of tact. We don't say things
here ; we drop hints from which others draw their
inferences."
"Oh, Jonathan ! " said Sam, scratching his head;
" you puzzle me quite. Ain't a fact a fact? "
" Sam, dear, you certainly want sending to
school."
" School! And who will make me brighter than
I am, I'd like to know ? "
" Don't you know that ? Man is the marble, and
woman the sculptor."
"one is not always seen to advantage." 193
" She means you're to come to school here, Sam,
of course," explained Virginia.
" Oh ! " said Sam, and his face widened into a
grin. " That wouldn't be so bad, Cousin Mary."
" Don't flatter yourself, sir ! " she said.
Uncle Foster here created a diversion by attempt-
ing to get upon his feet, and rolling over on to the
ground in the effort—which, he said, was precisely
what he had intended to do.
0
CHAPTER XXI.
" what ! hot take your purse to church ? oh,
fie ! you might as well forget your soul ! "
The gentle ringing of the church-bell was the first
sound that Virginia heard when she opened her eyes
on the Sunday morning. She was a healthy girl,
withal her intellectual labours, and liked sleeping
with her window open, especially in summer ; and it
was through the casement, a couple of yards away
from the foot of her bed, that this most soothing of
music for quiet consciences came to her ears. Facing
north, as her window did, she was not smiled on by
the sun as she lay in bed, which was a pity, for the
sun's sake as well as her own ; but, without raising
her head from the pillow, she could see the clear, pale
blue of the sky, presaging a hot, and what the
country people round Borton would call, a " sason-
able " day.
Uncle Foster could not go to church. That ques-
tion was soon decided when he tried to put his bare
foot to the ground.
" Don't forget me in your prayers, my dear," he
said to Virginia, when she took him his breakfast.
But Virginia protested against the assumption that
she would leave him. She would stay at home, read
the service to him, and a sermon or homily 011 which-
ever sin he liked best.
This was as it should be, and her father would
have been disappointed had she neglected to make
" WHAT ! NOT TAKE YOUR PURSE TO CHURCH? " 195
such a proposition. Nevertheless, he would not let
her stay away for him.
" Go, my dear," he said, " it will be a new service
to you, and there will, likely, be some good preaching,
though I myself don't care for their way of doing it,
as if it were just reading from a book."
So she put on her best clothes and her newest hat,
and smoothed and arranged herself before her glass
until she was ready for the public gaze—a vision of
pink, delightful for the eye to rest upon. Having
seen her, Constance and Mary Lydham agreed,
while making their own toilet, that her taste in dress
was exquisite, and that whatever she wore became her.
They wondered, also, whether her perfect composure,
when arrayed in the most bewitching habiliments,
was constitutional, or the result of self-discipline.
All being in readiness, they stepped forth into the
street, keeping the more shady side of the road,
though the sun had not yet got below the second
windows of the opposite houses.
Sam, seeming to suppose that a lady always liked
a gentleman's arm when she could get it, offered
his services to both his cousins, and being rejected
with ridicule by Mary, and with grave sarcastic
severity by Constance, he strode into the middle of
the carriage-way, and walked with an air of bragga-
docio, such as a French gallant of the sixteenth
century might have envied, and would assuredly
have resented in him.
When they reached the Long, they were surprised
to see people gathered in knots here and there, and
they noticed that the knot at the corner of the street
leading to the church gate was the thickest of all.
196
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Dear me!" said Mary, straightening her dress
and opening her parasol.
" I wonder what is the matt&r ? " observed Con-
stance, following her sister's example.
" I gness they knew we were coming," said Sam,
with a loud guffaw, and a flourish of his walking-
stick.
" Oh, do be gentlemanly, Sam," whispered Mary,
drawing away from Constance. " It is a very serious
occasion indeed, I can tell you."
Whether or not the natives had collected in order to
see the Americans, they determined to make the most
of the sight now that they had it presented to them.
Virginia at once caught the eye of every maiden in the
street, and was violently hated by ninety per cent, of
those who foolishly drew comparisons between them-
selves and her. But she was an object of admiration
to the young men, who spoke in expressive whispers
as they made room for the ladies to pass them by.
And even older men and women found much to
interest and arouse them in the sylphine young
stranger in pink with the Lydham girls.
But why were the people idling so disgracefully?
asked the Lydham girls.
It was not for the Americans, since they had not
followed them towards the church, except with their
eyes. And even their eyes seemed to grudge this
involuntary claim upon them.
But, just as the party were entering by the lich gate,
they heard low murmurs behind, the expression in
concert of satisfied human hearts, and, after the
murmur, a loud rattle of wheels and the flicking of
a whip. With much trampling and noise, a coroneted
" WHAT ! NOT TAKE YOUR PURSE TO CHURCH ? " 197
I
Carriage stopped at tire gate, and tliereout stepped
Lord Lumsey, with* a prayer-book in bis band. His
lordsbip was doubtless prepared for some sort of a
reception; at any rate, be took tbe stares and un-
covering of certain of tbe bystanders as a matter of
course, wbile be burried over tbe stones, by tbe tomb
of bis father's old retainer, John Janson, towards tbe
church porch. He walked so quickly that, ere the
Lydbams could lower their parasols, he bad caught
them up.
Sam first came in for bis lordship's notice.
" Ah, bow d'ye do ? Hot, isn't it ? " to which Sam
made very inadequate reply. Not that this mattered,
for Lord Lumsey did not seem to expect a reply of
any kind.
Then his lordsbip accosted Virginia. " Good morn-
ing, Miss Foster. Hope you have recovered from
your walk. Could hardly forgive myself not sending
you home in tbe brougham. How beautifully cool
you look, to be sure !"
He said it all so quickly that Constance Lydbam bad
no need to slacken her pace inside the building to
enable Virginia to keep up with them. There bad
been just enough time for him to see tbe sparkle of
tbe girl's eyes in tbe shadow of her wide-brimmed
hatj and for Virginia to carry off in her mind an
animated portrait of him, as be looked wbile speaking
to her. Then they bad separated.
The beadle, who that morning bad shaven himself
with more care than usual, and spent an extra five
minutes over bis boots, now made obeisance to tbe lord,
and said be would lead tbe way if bis lordsbip would
do him tbe honour to follow. In bis official old
198
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
mind, he thought of Lord Lumsey as connected with
the familiar parable wherein the hundredth person,
of whose repentance there was doubt, was of more
value than the ninety and nine just persors who
needed not to repent. Moreover, he remembered
that his wife had valued the pink velvet " rag " of
curtain, which he had cut off the pew in obedience
to his lordship's commands, at some twenty-five
shillings, more or less ; so he walked his best and
held his baton as majestically as he could. And
various members of the congregation, who had come
early, had a good look at Lord Lumsey, and,
in low whispers to each other, admitted that his
lordship had grown older in the last two years, and
that, if the truth were to be told, it was probable his
lordship teas just a trifle more wicked than other
men, for he looked it; but that, of course, his coming
to church was a good sign; and made sundry
allusions to wild oats and the desirability of getting
the sowing of such corn over as soon as possible, if
once such unfortunate sowing was begun.
The Lydhams' pew was on the left side of the
middle aisle of the church, and Lord Lumsey sat in
a square enclosure under the pulpit, which was at the
juncture of the middle aisle with the choir.
It was a great thing for Lord Lumsey that his pew
was square, for it gave him the choice of four seats,
one looking to each point of the compass. Ordi-
narily, no doubt, if Lord Lumsey had been in the
habit of attending Borton parish church, it would
have mattered nothing to him on which side of the
pew he sat. He could surely make his devotions
esqually well north, south, east, or west. But, on this
" WHAT ! NOT TAKE YOUR PURSE TO CHURCH ? " 199
particular Sunday, he wanted so to sit that he might
contemplate the American girl whom he had already
seen twice in his life, and in whom his interest had so
quickly augmented. Accordingly, when his lordship
had reverently bent his face into his hands for the
space of a few seconds, in the sight of the elite of
Borton society, he stood up, and, seemingly quite
regardless that he was the observed of all observers,
applied an eye-glass to his left eye, and scanned the
congregation.
Had any one else present presumed to behave in
this way, Borton would have taught the offender
against decency a lesson he would have been likely
to remember so long as he remained in Borton. But
with Lord Lumsey it was different: he was, so to
speak, on a level of his own, and had the forming of
his own code of manners all to himself: Borton
would certainly approve what his lordship approved.
Still, this behaviour of his lordship's was em-
barrassing, very. As row after row came under
survey, his lordship noticed, or might have noticed, a
curious uniformity of expression on the faces of the
occupants of the different pews. When there was a
gentleman—a head of the family—the gentleman
met his lordship's look boldly, and did his best to
show how careless he was of the scrutiny of an
aristocrat. But the mother of the family, as became
her, lowered her eyes before his, and generally
opened her prayer-book. And the daughters, of all
ages, almost without exception, blushed till they
smiled, and then blushed again at the thought that
they had dared to smile in the young noble's face.
So with pew after pew, until at length Lord Lumsey
200
VIRGINIA, (THE AMERICAN.
saw what he desired. If his features relaxed when
he caught the eye of Virginia calmly looking at him,
they did so all but imperceptibly. He sat down,
choosing the seat on the south side of the pew ; but,
believing he could better his prospect by going to
the east, he changed his position, and, having crossed
his arms and legs, was then, to all appearances, content.
Never before had Virginia been so direct an object
of attention. With womanly instinct—after Lord
Lumsey had thus made an exhibition of himself—she
felt at once that his lordship had come to church for
one reason only, and that she was this reason. She
had often and often been conspicuous at Timoleono-
politan hops, literary and scientific, political and
other meetings ; but for a man to come to the most
sacred of all human places to stare in her face, and for
no other purpose, was quite a novelty to her. And
she did not like Lord Lumsey any the better for it.
As for Sam, he whispered something to his sister,
and something to Mary, about his lordship, which
brought upon him beseeching exhortations to silence;
and whenever, during the service, he stood up, he
made a point of sending a very fiery glance towards
Lord Lumsey, which the nobleman quite as
systematically disregarded.
The old vicar preached. His sermon was one he
had delivered altogether no fewer than ten times, if
he could believe his own annotations on the title-
page. Yet it had a fresh sound to him ; and he
stumbled so often that he could not help thinking he
must have made a mistake, and taken out a manuscript
which he had really read nothing like as many as ten
times previously.
" WHIT ! NOT TAKE YOUR PURSE TO CHURCH ? " 201
Be that as it may, it was an excellent sermon, and
likely to do a great deal of good to such of his
congregation as made it their practice to fulfil all the
precepts laid down for them hebdomadally by the
vicar.
In one part of the sermon there was strong suspicion
of an extempore interpolation. Of course, the vicar
knew of Lord Lumsey's presence in church. He had
been pleased beyond measure to see him there, and
argued that his lordship's future as a christian, and
especially as a local benefactor, was as good as
assured. But, considering how young Lord Lumsey
was, the vicar thought it highly probable he would
not have so exalted an idea of his power for good or
ill as it was right that he should have.
Hence the interpolation, which was really directed
to the heart of Lord Lumsey, and no one else in the
church. It was an exhortation to remember thebles-
sedness of responsibilities, the almost boundless power
of wealth, and the duty of those in high station to
minister to the wants of their poorer brethren.
The vicar was not naturally eloquent, and his
words often came forth halting; but he hoped that
they would have effect none the less—nay, rather,
that, like jagged blades in a fray, they might the
better find out, by hazard, the weak spot in that coat
of adamant with which rich men so dearly love to
enwrap their hearts and sympathies.
It was not usual to have a collection at Borton
church every Sunday. This Sunday, however, the
vicar thought it well to have one. Lord Lumsey
could not, for very shame, give less than a sovereign,
and a sovereign goes a long way in church expenses,
202
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
when economically administered. But, alas ! for the
vicar's hopes. Lord Lumsey had no money in his
pocket; half the congregation were in the same
plight; and most of the others were so unpleasantly
excited by this extraordinary and unforeseen demand
upon their pockets, that they gave as little as was
consistent with decency, or else shook their heads
with diplomatic ambiguity of purpose.
Long ere service was over, there had been much
speculation in the minds of the congregation nearest
Lord Lumsey as to the cause of his lordship's pro-
tracted gaze in one direction. They were not aware
that his lordship was on social terms with a single
member of the congregation. They remarked the ab-
sence of the velvet curtains, and inwardly commented
on the nakedness of the brass fittings as somewhat
unseemly. They would have liked to have been able
to see his lordship just as much or just as little
as they pleased; but they hardly liked to have him
staring across them as if they were so many blades of
grass, instead of men and women with passions and
faculties like himself. And not a few of them tried
to take the measure of his glances, so that they might
afterwards find out who and what the people were
who sat in the focus of his lordship's eye.
When the organ began to give the signal for
people to rise from their knees, there was the usual
scrimmage among the little boys of the town to see
who could get out first. But, after the little boys, no
one was quicker at leaving the sacred building than
Lord Lumsey himself. He strode firmly down the
aisle, gave a side look into the Lydhams' pew, and
was at the porch before half the ladies had rustled
" WHAT ! HOT TAKE YOUR PURSE TO CHURCH ? " 203
themselves into walking form, and began to think of
getting upon their feet. At the entrance, he took his
stand, and it became clear to all Borton that he was
in quest of some one.
Now, there were two doors of exit from the church,
though but one door was used for ingress.
"Let's go out here," whispered Sam to Mary,
indicating the other door.
Mary understood Sam's eye, and immediately con-
veyed the wish to her sister. Then the whole party
wheeled to the other side of the church, and, leaving
the churchyard by another street, they reached home
unperceived by half Borton.
As for Lord Lumsey, many thought it an amiable
trait in his lordship that he was willing to let the
whole village look in his face so easily and pleasantly.
But, in truth, when the church was emptied, his lord-
ship walked to the carriage, and was driven to
Lumsey Hall in no very amiable mood.
CHAPTER XXII.
"many things are learnt in schools."
" Cousin Mary/' said Sam at dinner, " I think
we tricked that young aristocrat of your's nicely—
turned him simply upside down, don't you? "
" Upside down, Sam. What a phrase ! Yes, I think
we cheated him. I don't like what I saw of him."
" Like him indeed ! You'd better, that's all."
" So you were the object of Lord Lumsey's atten-
tion in church, Virginia ? " said Miss Lydham, inter-
rogatively.
" I guess you all save me the trouble of thinking so,"
she replied.
" But, don't you, yourself? "
"Ah! Cousin Constance !" said Virginia, looking at
her withaffected shyness. " That's a leading question."
" And if it is, child ? Surely an elder cousin may
venture to put it ? "
" Suppose I put it to you—Is there any young man
in this village that you have set your heart on,
Cousin Constance, how should you like it? "
Miss Lydham found that her plate wanted all the
attention she could devote to it, and a flow of blood
coloured her cheeks. However, she dissimulated her
perturbation, and determined not to lose her temper
because this chance shot had hit her in a sensitive part.
" My dear girl," she said, with a smile, " you are so
very, very sharp. A talk with you is like a clash of
razors."
"MANY THINGS ABB LEARNT IN SCHOOLS." 205
" Well, if there are razors, there must be two of
them ; and I ain't to blame, Cousin Constance, if I
protect myself, am I ? "
" Mercy on us! " said Miss Lydham, laughing.
" Anyhow," said Sam, diverted from Mary by her
sister's laughter; " I think your lord a savage,
Virginia."
" It ain't forme to say he ain't," remarked the girl.
Even Uncle Foster, who was now downstairs
again, had changed his opinion of the nobleman
after hearing about his conduct in church, for Uncle
Foster had strong prejudices in religious matters,
and wrould as soon have thought of climbing into
the pulpit, and thence singing a comic song, as of
staring over his prayer-book.
" As Uncle is so much better, Virginia," said
Mary, " shall you mind leaving him again this
afternoon?"
" Why ? " asked Virginia.
" Oh, it's a little plan of ours. Conny will take
you to Sunday school, and you shall have a class.
They vrill be so pleased."
" Oh—ah—but I reckon I won't, Cousin Mary."
" Virginia ! " exclaimed her father, with sorrowful
reproach.
"Well, if you wish it, father," said Virginia, "it's
different. But I ain't used to it, and I don't know
that it suits my spiritual constitution."
" My dear," said Miss Lydham, " I'll see that you
have the nicest little creatures in the school. They
will amuse you to look at, wdth their clean faces and
large wondering eyes ; and I'm sure you will like it."
" Well."
206
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Then you will come ? "
" Yes, I'll come."
Again Heather Street saw the angel in pink (as
a Borton wag had called her) go up the street,
prayer-book in hand, and as careless of observation
as if she were a queen whose every action was a
public ceremony.
They entered the small schoolhouse near the
church in company with a group of barelegged little
boys and girls, who had been waiting for their teacher.
Let me introduce you to Mr. Cathcart, Virginia,"
said Miss Lydham, approaching the curate, who was
busy at one end of the room. Virginia followed her
cousin leisurely, and then discovered that Mr.
Cathcart was the person she had met on the stairs
the previous morning. He smiled very pleasantly,
though there was a touch of embarrassment in his
manner, which, had she understood it, Virginia
might have appreciated, while he murmured, " Very
delighted, Miss Foster; and so good of you to think
of coming to help us in our work ! "
" Oh! " said Virginia, "I must say I'd no hand
in coming ; my cousin as good as made me."
" At any rate, you are here. I hope I did not
cause you to to spill the'* coffee yesterday," he
added, smiling.
" Oh, no ; my nerves are first-rate."
" Suppose I go and make a selection for my
cousin," said Miss Lydham, "and then bring them
for you to see?"
" Ah, do, if you don't mind," replied the curate.
"So very good indeed of you, Miss Foster!" he
repeated, when they twain were alone.
"MANY THINGS ARE LEARNT IN SCHOOLS." 207
" I'll be awful conceited if you go on like that,"
observed Virginia, seriously.
"Well, and if you were? " said the curate, softly.
"I'm sure it wouldn't be quite inexcusable," and he
bent his head a little, the better to see into her eyes.
"That ain't for me to say about, I guess," said
Virginia, half-turning away, and glancing in an
interested manner about the room. " What shall
I teach them ? I reckon some of them know their
Bible better than I do. I'm almost ashamed to say it,
but it's a downright fact."
"We are all of us apt to forget what we learn
when we are young."
" That's so, of course. But then, there are some
things we learn to make up, I reckon. I wonder, is
Mr. the other gentleman with you in the church;
I mean, is he about ? "
" Mr. Warmington, you mean. No, he will come
presently."
" He was very good in telling me the history of
your old church. Is he a married man, did you say?"
" I don't remember that I mentioned Mr. War-
mington at all until you asked after him," said the
curate, feebly. "No, he is unmarried."
" And here comes my cousin with the little ones.
What little dears ! But all girls, ain't they, Cousin
Constance ? "
"Yes, Virginia. I found the boys were not as nice
as the girls, so I picked out the most intelligent of
the children, and have impressed 011 them that they
are to be especially good this afternoon, and that
they are going to have a treat, with you for teacher."
" But you shouldn't have," said Virginia.
208
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Besides, it ain't fair for whoever has them next
Sunday; they're bound to make it up in naughti-
ness, ain't they ? "
" Ah, well, dear, we will take our chance of that."
" And may I do anything I like with them in the
Bible line? "
"Yes," said Mr. Cathcart, "anything you please,
Miss Foster, so long as you are orthodox."
Virginia laughed, as she said :
" I guess I won't go into points of doctrine with
these poor piccaninnies. I'll tell them about Ruth in the
cornfield, and Boaz, and all. It's my favourite part."
In a very short time, Virginia had charmed the
little girls with the sweet and simple story. She did
not commentate or question over much, but was
satisfied when she found she could interest them by
pointing out the familiar features in this pathetic
drama of life—Naomi, the mother; such a mother
as their own mothers might be : Ruth and Orpah;
such girls as she hoped they would eventually
become : Boaz, the farmer, with his men reapers,
and the gleaners following the reapers ; such
a farmer, such reapers and gleaners as might be
seen in any of the fields of corn round Borton a
couple of months later: the meeting between Ruth
and Boaz, and the kindness of Boaz in letting Ruth
glean with the rest, and afterwards in giving her of
the threshed corn : of Ruth curling herself at the
feet of Boaz while he slept: and of the marriage,
later, between Ruth and Boaz. She told the tale so
prettily and easily, and made it so piquant by
describing the great maize fields of America, in
contrast with the English grain fields with their red
"many things ahe leaent in schools." 209
poppies, blue corn-flowers, and white Michaelmas
daisies, that two or three of the little ones could not
help clapping their chubby hands. And, when the
church bell began to ring, they were, for once, dis-
appointed ; and pouts appeared on some of their rosy
half-parted lips.
"Will you not follow them, Miss Foster? " asked
the curate, when the children had marched towards
the church. He had listened to Virginia during her
o o
narrative rather more than was altogether courteous
in him, though he had excused himself 011 the plea
that it gave him an innocent pleasure such as he but
rarely enjoyed.
"No, thanks," said Virginia. "I'll just go home
now. They liked it, I fancy."
" Liked it! It would be very strange if they did
not, Miss Foster."
" Oh! I'm sure you mean to be monstrous kind.
But don't let me keep you a moment, if you've got
to go in with them, especially as my cousin seems to
be waiting for you. "
" Good afternoon, then, Miss Foster, and—very
many thanks to you."
" And to you, sir for going," she added,
when she was left by herself.
The curate went towards Miss Lydham with a
shadow over his face, and, a minute later, Virginia
returned home, lightly and quickly ; for she had
resolved to read her father his homily before tea-
time. Uncle Foster loved a nap on Sunday after-
noon, and a homily was often as necessary to him
then as an olive to a palate-spoiled, dinner-desiring
gourmand.
r
CHAPTEK XXIII.
" his conversation is a perpetual libel on all
his acquaintance."
That Sunday evening, Miss Spout took tea with
Miss Clack. It was a custom for two or three of the
old ladies of Borton to shuffle themselves into couples
for Sunday evening dissipation ; they made their
years an excuse for not attending seven o'clock
service, though we are bound to say that this was the
only occasion on which they were at all anxious to
advertise the fact that they were not as young as
formerly.
Miss Clack we have already mentioned, casually.
She was a lady of some sixty winters, with a long,
wiry nose, thin hands encumbered with emerald
and ruby rings, and a high-peaked white cap which
curled over at the top like a punch's bonnet.
There was one other resident in the little jessa-
mine-becovered two-storied house of Miss Clack
besides herself. This was Anna Maria, her maid,
who was a virgin like herself, only something older.
Anna Maria differed from her mistress, however,
inasmuch as she had seen a good deal of life in a
quiet way. She had lived in London, and in several
households; so that she had gained an insight into
the working of the great Metropolis such as Miss
Clack, her mistress, had no idea of; for, since her
thirty-eighth birthday, Miss Clack would not have
ventured into a city where she had been credibly in-
"AlS CONVERSATION IS A PERPETUAL LIBEL." 211
formed there were no fewer than half-a-million single
men for any consideration. But habit had worn the
nature of Anna Maria into complete acquiescence
with her mistress in anything her mistress said. If
Miss Clack, in reading from Ezekiel, or elsewhere in
her Bible, about the " great Babylon," the "naughty
Babylon," that " sink of iniquity," and so forth, took
it into her head to summon Anna Maria from her
kitchen to explain to her that the Babylon mentioned
was the very London in which Anna Maria had lived,
the maid never thought of contradicting her mistress.
"You've lived for thirty years of your life in a sty,
Anna Maria—though you mayn't have known it,
which was a Providence." And Anna Maria, who had
not recognised London as a sty when there, was
willing to accept Miss Clack's words for truth now
that she was of an age when she could hardly afford
to disagree with her mistress.
" And thank your Maker, Anna Maria, for giving
you a good home in a virtuous establishment."
Miss Clack received Miss Spout solemnly. For,
in the first place, it was Sunday, and emotional
manifestations were inconsistent with the sacred
character of the day ; and, secondly, Miss Clack
was of a cold disposition.
"My dear Miss Clack!" said Miss Spout, when,
having, under Anna Maria's direction, divested her-
self of her outdoor attire, she afterwards appeared in
the parlour.
" My dear Miss Spout!" said Miss Clack, rising, and
extending a bemittened hand to her guest. " Come
to the fire." And then, havin'g seated themselves
they smiled placidly on each other.
212
Virginia, tfHE AMERI&AN.
Soon Anna Maria came in with the tray, and
having put the kettle on the hob, began to lay the
cloth. It was an obstinate cloth, full of creases,
each of which individually made Miss Clack wroth
against the washerwoman, and drew from her dire
threats of abandonment of that useful, hard-working
woman. Miss Spout sympathised as much as she
well could in her friend's lament over so transitory an
injury to her property, and, in confidence, whispered
to Miss Clack that in her opinion they were all alike,
" every one of them ! " Which oracular statement
met with the most entire approval from Miss Clack.
Punctually at the first note of the clock, when
striking six, Miss Clack arose, motioned Miss Spout
to her chair with a "My dear, sit here, if you please
and, ere the fourth note had struck, she was pouring
out the tea.
" My dear," said Miss Spout, with a smile, indi-
eating the clock behind her hostess, " Greenwich is
nothing to you."
" As you say, dear, Greenwich is nothing to me;
I live in Borton, Miss Spout." And, with a sly look
under the overhanging frill of her cap to see if Miss
Spout were capable of absorbing so insidious a wit-
ticism, Miss Clack smiled also, and stirred her tea.
"And, talking of Greenwich," said Miss Spout,
who had quite missed her friend's joke, " didn't you
fancy you had heard the vicar's sermon before this
morning ? "
" Well, to tell the truth, I did."
" And I too," said Miss Spout; " and this is how
I knew for certain. You know, dear, I usually spend
an hour in the afternoon in composing my thoughts
" HIS CONVERSATION IS A PERPETUAL LIBEL." 213
of the sermon into English prose notes for reference
in the future—or posterity, as may he. And I was
doing it to-day as usual, after some cherry pie—I
was engaged in remembering the sequence of the
text, when it flashed across my mind that I had
remembered the same things and sentences several
times before, and so,' casually taking up my note
book, Miss Clack, I referred back to the text. Would
you believe it, I found that the vicar has given us
the self-same sermon, from beginning to end, eight
times in the last six years ; and there I've been and
thought out the same thoughts1 all for nothing, if I
may say so, of divine things ! "
"Well, that is hard!" said Miss Clack. "And
he has no variation of manner to give charm to his
repetition of matter."
" Really, none. Now, if it hpd been Mr. Cathcart
" Mr. Cathcart, Miss Spoiit! Oh, the most
amusing thing you ever heard! " And Miss Clack
put her two mittened hands together as though she
were praying—only that her face showed such signs
of merriment as were very inharmonious with a
prayerful spirit. " I've heard a tale about Mr.
Cathcart that will astonish you."
" Now, have you ?" said Miss Spout, agape.
" Not that it wouldn't take a good deal to amaze me
as to him : he is so very odd a young man—so bizarre
and so impressionable."
"Very, my dear." And Miss Clack let herself
fall back in her chair, and laughed in little hysteric
bursts towards the ceiling.
" What is it, Miss Clack ? " demanded the other
214
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
when she had grown somewhat tired of seeing Miss
Clack's nostrils levelled at her like a double-barrelled
gun, and hearing her laugh in a way so suggestive
of the gun going off.
" Oh, I positively couldn't," replied Miss Clack,
bringing her head sharply to the perpendicular, and
raising her hands deprecatingly.
But Miss Spout knew better. She knew that Miss
Clack was dying to be pressed, and that she deferred
going on with her toast simply that she might the
better be able to say what she had to say.
" I'm burning to know it, dear," said Miss Spout.
u Oh, well, then ; if you must! " said Miss Clack,
raising her eyebrows, and shaking her head resignedly.
" I wash my hands of itand she slipt the one mit-
tened member gracefully through and over the other.
" But it is quite true. Mark Stumps, Farmer Bil-
lersley's man, saw him as plain as his own team, he
says, and he ought to know him, for Mr. Cathcart is
visiting his sick wife. It was in a lane, my dear, of all
places; and Mark says he would swear—his language,
of course, dear, not mine—says he would swear to the
gentleman, though (and that's the pity of it, as William
Shakspere might say), though not to the lady. They
were sitting all in a heap in the bushes till he cracked
his whip in beginning the Runaway Lane ascent.
His load was — well, I can't help it, my dear; it was
manure; and he didn't take notice of them at first,
though he was aware, from Mr. Cathcart's carriage of
himself, that they weren't common folks. Of course
he didn't suppose it was the young minister, as he
called him. It wouldn't have entered his head,
he said."
" HIS CONVERSATION IS A PERPETUAL LIBEL." 215
" Then how, dear, does he know it," asked Miss
Spout, whose face had put 011 expression after expres-
sion with each new disclosure of Miss Clack, and
speedily thrown each expression aside as unsuitable
for permanent or even more than very temporary
wear.
" Hush ! my dear. He found a letter ' in the
bushes, addressed to the Reverend William Cathcart,
with the Norwich postmark, and in a feminine hand.
That's conclusive, I think. He said, too, that the
brambles were squashed as flat as if a steam roller had
climbed up the bank—a parallel, inelegant but for-
cible, my dear, as I remarked to Stumps himself;
and, if he had liked, he said, he could have taken the
measure of their two forms, easily—talking of them
like a couple of hares, my dear ! "
"Well, really!" said Miss Spout, whose interest
in the story had quite prevailed over her appetite.
" And that's not all," continued Miss Clack, when
she had moistened her throat with a draught of tea—
" a little bird told me that this same Mr. Cathcart has
been saying sweet things to Miss Lydham. By the
Borton Brook o' Wednesday, twilight time, too ! "
" Oh, but "
" Yes, Miss Spout, as you say. If a man in his
position once begins that sort of behaviour, the Lord
only knows when he will stop; and the wonder is if
he has but two strings to his bow."
"I'm quite shocked," said Miss Spout, resuming
her tea. Then, with friendly endeavour to change
the subject of conversation, she asked Miss Clack
what she thought of Lord Lumsey.
Up went the mittened hands in the air again, and a
216
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
double tap under the table seemed to indicate that Miss
Clack's feet bad followed the example of her bands.
"Goodness belp our great folks!" sbe exclaimed.
" Tbat unhappy young man bears ' ruin ' written on
bis every feature. To stand and try to stare the
whole parish out of countenance like tbat! I positively
never wish to see such another exhibition of mis-
conduct, if I die after it, my dear."
Miss Spout was wholly of the same opinion.
" And do you know the meaning of it all ? " resumed
Miss Clack, rising an inch or two in stature as she sat,
and pursing her lips after the question, as though to
imply that the signification, whatever it was, was
securely locked within her.
Miss Spout shook her head.
" Well, that young gentleman no more came to
church to praise his Maker for his creation than you
or me did to say 1 Commination Services,' my dear.
He came to see a girl! I "
This t time it was Miss Spout's turn to hold up her
hands ; and if she seemed to have six fingers up-
starting from her right wrist, it was because she was
eating a slip of toast, and had no time to eat it
altogether, or abandon it, ere the impulse seized her.
"A girl, Miss Clack!"
" Undoubtedly. But, thank God, my dear, the
creature is a stranger to Borton, and a foreigner to the
land. I have reason to suppose she is the young
woman staying with the Lydhams as a cousin, Miss
Spout."
" Oh! why, I know her, Miss Clack."
" Yes, and what good of her do you know, Miss
Spout, I should like to know ? "
" HIS CONVERSATION IS A PERPETUAL LIBEL." 217
" Why, certainly not much, Miss Clack ; nor much
harm either. She's sharp-tongued, and a bit haughty;
but that I put down to her years, and her—well,
it's no use mincing matters, she's rather pretty, my
dear, and I think that's an excuse for her manner, in
a measure."
u Indeed! As for me, Miss Spout, I think the
prettier (since you use the word), the prettier we are,
the more reason we should be amiable ; to match our
external qualities with internal, you understand."
" Oh, but it's hardly possible, Miss Clack, that
Lord Lumsey can have seen Miss Foster, as her
name is."
" Oh!"
Miss Clack's tone of voice, her eyes, the ironical
compression • of her lips, and the way she drammed
her toast with her knife, gave more force to the
monosyllable than many additional words.
" You know better, Miss-Clack ? "
" I do, Miss Spout. I know that these American
strangers went and called on Lord Lumsey in his
own house—without a word of introduction, mind
you; led him a dance out of one room into another
till he had shown them everything, even to the
mournful chamber where his late pa was set in state
for all the country-side to see; and that he gave them
a sumptuous banquet before they left him, at a late
hour of the night."
" Impossible, Miss Clack ! "
" It's not impossible, Miss Spout, for it's true.
And I know that this same Miss Foster sent him her
' carte-de-visite ' to see before ever he knew who she
was; and that when he couldn't for shame but give
218
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
them a welcome, she stuck herself to him, all about
the Hall, like a leech, Miss Spout. And that's not all;
for, only yesterday, Lord Lumsey drove into Borton
simply and solely for to %see Miss Foster behind the
Miss Lydhams' drawing-room blinds, and to leave his
' carte-de-yisite ' for her in return for hers to him.
Nor even that's not all, Miss Spout; for, by putting
two and two together, I conclude that his lordship
had no other intention in coming to church this very
Sunday morning but to see this awful Miss Foster,
and exchange telegraphic signals with her through
the sacredest parts of our celestial liturgy. It was
for this he had the curtain torn down from his pew.
It was for this he stood up and stared, to find where
she sat. It was for this he sat where he could see her
best. And it was to meet her again on going out, as
I heard he did on going in, that he exposed himself to
the eyes of all Borton by marching down the church
before anyone else. What do you think of that,
Miss Spout?"
Verily, Miss Spout knew not what to think of it.
She confessed that if circumstantial evidence could
convict Miss Foster of playing at love with Lord
Lumsey, she was already convicted ; and not for
worlds would she have hinted to Miss Clack a doubt
as to the facts which she, Miss Clack, had put forward.
She took a fresh piece of toast, and sighed ; ventured
to taste Miss Clack's excellent raspberry jam, and
shook her head; and, having assured Miss Clack that
it takes a loner time to wash from the mind all
o
remembrance of our youthful indiscretions, she buried
her nose in her tea-cup, and drained the dainty little
vessel at a draught.
" HIS CONVERSATION" IS A PERPETUAL LIBEL." 219
Then they fell to discussing the peccadilloes of
other people, with whom we have no concern. They
laughed and sighed, frowned and protested, and shook
their caps over these various peccadilloes. Miss Clack
assured Miss Spout in a low muffled voice that she
would not have her own father come back into the
world to see Borton as it was then for anything.
She could bear the altered state of affairs herself; but
she could not bear to witness the effects that such a
change would wreak on the face of a beloved parent.
And Miss Spout, in a still lower voice, confided to
Miss Clack her opinion that men were not what they
used to be when she was younger. And so they
dropped, almost imperceptibly, into discussion of the
qualities of the few men of Borton whom they had the
happiness or unhappiness (they could hardly say
which) to know intimately ; and they came to the
conclusion that there was not a single perfect man in
the place—a fact completely terrible to think of.
From the gentlemen of Borton they fell to Anna
Maria; and, Miss Clack, having quietly risen from her
seat to make sure that the door was well closed,
detailed to Miss Spout the many evil points in her
maid's character—which same points, but for her,
Miss Clack's, vigilance, would, she had no doubt,
rapidly grow up into bouncing vices of the most
virulent kind, as fatal to Anna Maria herself as
dangerous to the community at large.
Not that the woman was virtueless. For Miss
Clack vowed she would not know what to do if she had
not Anna Maria to cut her corns for her, to wash her
back, put the complexion powder over her face as she
lay on her pillow, arrange her nightcap so that it did
220
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
not interfere with her wig—which she could no more
go to sleep without than if it were her own hair,
tuck her up, and say a dutiful u Good-night, miss," to
her ; without mentioning the many other little services
rendered in the course of the day, and which she should
feel great repugnance to impress on a new domestic as
a part of her household and personal routine, in the
event of Anna Maria's death.
And when Anna Maria had taken away the tea-
things, with her eyes demurely on the tablecloth the
while, as though her thoughts never wandered away
from her duties, Miss Clack, with a smile, handed
Miss Spout one of her most cherished books : " Dolman
on Great Sins; or, the Sanctified Reprobate;" and,
herself taking up " Muffton on the Efficacy of Charity
and a Christian Spirit," the two friends passed a very
pleasant evening for the ensuing two hours or so
with as much benefit to their souls as their bodies.
CHAPTER XXIV.
"words are snares."
Instead of going to evening service, the Misses Lydham
and their Cousin Sam went for a walk, leaving
Virginia in charge of her father.
It was a beautiful summer evening. The sun seemed
to be playing at hide and seek behind a legion
of white clouds, innocent of evil; now completely out
of sight, now half hid—so that his light shone
through a veil, and now peeping from behind one
cloud, only to slide behind another.
We need say little about the beauty of the country
under this June sun. In its panoply of fresh green,
it forced men and women to think of the privileges of
living, and made them wonder how they could ever
have been, in any measure, discontented with their
lives. It was an evening when country boys and girls
could no more resist the impulse of song than the birds
in the oaks and hedges; and, as our three friends
walked down the thick-shaded lane, they heard
snatches of hymns carolled forth from the cottages
and fields on all sides of them.
After a time, they left the lanes for some field-
crossings; and then they halted by a stile,, separating
two extensive patches of pasture land, on which sundry
cows and horses were grazing. Looking thence
towards Borton, save in the foreground, the country
was green with foliage, from out which came the
softened music of a multitude of throstles and finches.
222
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
In the west, a purple line of hills rose almost perpen-
dicularly, sinking gradually to the level after a course
of some twenty or twenty-five miles. North and
south were grain-fields, woods, and meadows, with
cosy farmhouses nestling in the green here and there.
Resting at the stile, the Lydhams and their cousin
were silent for a minute or two, while they looked at
the hills in the distance.
The American was the first to speak :
" How fine and sentimental we are, to be sure! "
he said, kicking off the heads of certain daisies and
buttercups near him.
"I always feel a longing to get beyond those hills,"
observed Constance, speaking rather to Mary than her
cousin.
"Ah!" said Sam, "I don't wonder. This life of
your's must be a right-down pokey kind of life—
no breath in it."
" That may be," said Constance, only half attending
to what he had said. " But, once beyond them, I
shouldn't be satisfied, I know that. There would be
other hills; and I should want to get over them also.".
"So!," said Sam, with a laugh. "I guess you have
those things called aspirations. Bad sort of disease
that—for folks past their teens."
"Now, I don't think that," said Mary.
"I'd rather be dead than have nothing to live for,"
said Constance, turning, round, and, in her energy,
seeming to throw the words at her cousin.
" Hum ! " said Sam, moving playfully to one side.
"Ain't you yourself a sight more worth living for
than any of these legless fancies and ghostlike hopes,
eh, Cousin Constance?"
"WORDS ARE SNARES."
223
" I think not," said Miss Lydham.
" Champagne and hops, horse races and operas—
ain't such things better than your empty fancies ? "
" I'm sure not," said Miss Lydham.
"Wal," said Sam; and he leaned himself 011 his
stick as he bent forward, ostensibly the better to see
the sun where it was beginning to touch the summit
of the hills—I'm—surprised. What do you say,
Cousin Mary ? "
"I admire you Americans for some things,"
continued Constance, still speaking abstractedly.
" Thanks," said Sam.
" You are such little leviathans, all of you, packed
tightly with pluck and energy."
" Yes ? " said the delighted man.
" But, somehow, I don't think you are as
good as you are great, nor as agreeable as you are
good."
" Oh, there, that'll do ! " cried Sam. " You set a
fellow up only to knock him down. That's hard
treatment, I vow; and coming from a woman too!
I must say it's too precious bad."
" You agree with me, don't you, Mary ? " said Con-
stance.
" Oh, of course, Conny ; that is, mostly. But I
think Cousin Sam has a good deal to be proud of."
" That's so," said Sam, licking his lips, and smiling
self-contentedly. " Come, Mary, you be sensible, at
any rate. Praise a man for behaving like a man,
and don't go picking holes in him for not acting the
superfine deity—like someone."
" You do so interrupt," said Mary. " Let me
finish my sentence. Proud, I mean, not of yourself
£24
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
at all, oh, no, but of being one of such a nation of
stalwart-minded men."
" Oh ! " and Sam stroked bis chin reflectively.
"Forgive me, Sam," said Constance, facing him,
and holding out her hand, which he took between his
own hands. " I am always seeing the faults and losing
sight of the virtues, or thinking I do. If I were not
an English woman I do declare I would be willing
to be an American man."
" Oh, Conny, you renegade," said Mary.
" No, no ! " cried Sam, putting himself between
the sisters. " Just you leave her alone. I'll have
no come-between when my nation's getting the soft
side of her tongue. She don't lick pleasant so often
that I'll bear the interference like a lamb. So drive
on, Cousin Constance, with the virtues, while I keep
her off."
"No," said Constance, turning her back on him.
"You spoil all. You are like a whale in a ffower
garden, and there's not a single complimentary adjec-
tive in my mind but you've squeezed it's life out with
your clumsiness."
The American let his arms drop to his sides and
hung his head.
" There, Sam ! poor Sam ! " said Mary, laughing.
" Faith ! " said he, lifting his coat collar to his ears.
" I think I'll hide my diminished head for a while. I
never heard such a pepper-box of a tongue as yours,
Cousin Constance, and I've heard a few, and sneezed
in the hearing as well."
" Hush ! " said Mary. " You mustn't say such
things, really, if y0u please."
" If you please ! " said Sam. " I like that. Why,
"words are snares."
225
I've said nothing, and that's a fact. It's she that has
said enough for two."
"You called my sister a pepper-box. Now, a
pepper-box may be a proper comparison for a lady in
America, but here it distinctly is not."
" Well, and so she is," said Sam, turning rather
sulkily on his heel, and walking a few yards by him-
self, leaving his cousins to watch the sun sink majes-
tically behind the purple hills. A couple of minutes
later and he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was
Mary, with an arch smile on her face. She put her
right fore-finger across her lips, and then whispered
to him that Constance wanted to beg his pardon.
" That's nonsense," said Sam. " She has no call
to do that. It's for me, I think, ain't it ? "
" Well, Sam, if you must know, I think it is. So
go and take her unawares while she is looking at those
golden spears of light in the west. Go on your knees,
Sam. It isn't damp yet, and your trousers don't show
yet, I think Oh ! Do that again if you
dare, sir! "
" I reckon we're cousins, Cousin Mary, and one
may take all manner of liberties with cousins, you
know. But I'm awfully sorry if I've offended you
too."
"Well," said Mary, wiping her cheek with her
pocket-handkerchief. " Not so much offended per-
haps, as yes, as contaminated, and that can soon
be remedied. Now do as I told you, or I shall be
offended properly, and then you'll be sorry."
Sam walked quickly towards the stile, went on his
knees where the grass was softest, and plucked at
Miss Lydham's dress.
Q
226
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Cousin Constance," he said, half hiding his face
with one hand. " Forgive me for what I have done,
whatever it may be. If you don't, I swear I'll never
be happy again."
" What a silly fellow you are, Sam," said Con-
stance, looking dowm on him benevolently. " But,
for goodness' sake get up," she added ; " what will
those gentlemen think ? "
" Say yes, then," said Sam.
" Yes—and no as well—anything you like," said
Constance. " Only get up at once."
" And now I'm happy again, as a free born man
should be, all the world over."
"Eh! but I'm not, Sam," said Mary. "Those
gentlemen are Borton people, and they have seen
all your nonsense."
Sam laughed wildly at this, and so continuously
that both his cousins at length besought him to be
quiet, and to aid them in their escape from the
humiliation of being recognised.
" If wre go on a little way, and turn to the left, there
is a turnip field. For Heaven's sake, let us get to
the turnip field. Quick ! "
" Hooray for the turnip field ! " cried Sam, as he
helped his cousins over the style ; and ere the sun
had half done colouring the departing clouds in the
sky with its dying lights the cousins had crossed the
field, and were far on the high road to Borton again
On their return they found Uncle Foster slumber-
ing on the sofa, with his hands crossed gracefully
over his stomach. Virginia was not in the room, hut
she followed closely at their heels, and peeped over
"words are snares."
227
their shoulders to see if they had awakened her father.
This they had done effectually.
" He went off like a humming-top before I had
read a page of the preamble," she said, laughing.
" I tell him it's quite an advertisement of his own
naughtiness."
" Or holiness, my dear," said Miss Lydham.
" You see, it betokens a good conscience. He has
no need for the lessons and helps we weaker ones
can't do without."
"Hey! what's all that?" demanded Uncle
Foster, rubbing his eyes. " So you met the others,
did you, Yirginny, when you went out of the
room?"
" No, sir," said she. " For I've been out a good
three-quarters of an hour."
How Virginia had spent part of the hour thus
stolen from her father's society, Martha could best say.
Martha, on this Sunday, had stayed at home to
attend to the wants of the American strangers, if
they might want anything. And, not to be worse
than her betters, she had set herself to the perusal and
digestion of the good things she could find in an old
number of the Leisure Hour. Making sure of being
perfectly free from intrusion, she had seated herself on
a chair by the window end of the kitchen. Her chair,
after a time, had naturally fallen atilt with the weight
of her body gradually thrown backwards, and, for
the space of half-an-hour, she read about the adven-
tures of a virtuous shirt maker and an honest
chimney-sweep, whom fate had evidently predestined
to come together in the last chapter of the tale,
though, so far, they had each had alternative chapters
228
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
to themselves, and seemed as unlikely to make each
other's acquaintance as Euclid's parallel straight lines
For half an hour she continued to read, and then she"
fell asleep.
In this strange position the good woman slept with
tolerable tranquillity for a quarter of an hour, then
her fingers released their hold of the magazine ; her
head fell to the front as her mouth opened a freer
passage for the sounds which welled up from her
vitals, and her arms gradually slipped, until at length
they hung by her sides as flaccidly as so much dead
meat. Her balance was disturbed, and, little by little,
her chair inclined backwards, until she was sustained
only by the fine equipoise of her feet on the table
and the hind legs of the much-enduring chair.
About this time Virginia left her father. She
thought the present a favourable opportunity for
putting a few questions to Martha—^questions the
answering of which had a strange interest for her.
Descending to the kitchen, therefore, she opened the
door quietly, but was immediately startled by a
scream from the maid-servant, whose chair she was
just able to catch ere it crashed to the ground.
" Oh, dear ! oh, dear! " stammered Martha, stum-
hling to her feet; u what have I been and done
without knowing it ? " and she stared round into
Virginia's face with the most grotesque of terrified
faces.
" That's just what 1 don't know," said Virginia,
laughing. " But if you ain't hurt, I guess there's
no considerable harm anywhere. Only, you were
a right-down Christmas ox of a weight, and I'm
just a little glad you got up as quickly as you did."
" WORDS ARE SNARES."
229
" Eh ! but, Miss, I'm so vexed that you should ha'
had to ha' done it. It's my own thick head and
skull that ought to ha' paid for its own stupidity, it
is. It allers was the blunderingest head I ever knew,
and allers will be."
" Never mind that, Martha. Heads don't improve
by getting knocked on the floor. And all I wanted
was to ask you some questions, so you see it's as well
for me that I saved your wits, ain't it ? "
" Thank you, Miss, then it is, if you're so kind as
to say it," said Martha, contentedly.
" You don't object to being questioned, do you? "
u Anything, Miss, that I can say for you I'm proud
to do."
" Ah! that's right for me. I don't understand
bodies like you, Martha, living in a family as a boot-
cleaner and dish-washer all the days of your life. I
want to know what makes you do it. Haven't you
ever had any hopes of doing better for yourself, for
instance ?''
" I don't know, Miss," said Martha. " It's Miss
Lydham's father and mother that I was with for
nigh "
" Yes, I know all that. And you don't mind being
just a help in a house that ain't your own all your
born days ? "
" Lord save us, Miss, what can I do ? It arn't His
will that I should go to have a house of my own, and
a lot of little bairns, God bless 'em. We must be
thankful for what He gives us, Miss."
" Yes, yes, but He don't do all, you know. He
helps those who help themselves . . . not so
much them who help others, like you, you see."
230
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Maybe, Miss, but in this part of the world a
female can't go up to a man and ax him to marry
her off-hand. Which it would be a bold and disgust-
ing thing if they did, I think."
" And you never thought of turning merchant,
selling potatoes, keeping a shop, or being useful with
your pen ? Or is it that you're all too lazy to set up
on your own hook, as one might say? "
" Me a merchant! " said Martha, " and writing !
Why, Miss, are you having a sort of Sabbath lark
with me all by yourself? "
" No, no. Why should I ? So you don't really
feel it a degrading sort of thing to be a help all the
days of your life ? "
"Well, Miss, if you'll show me how I should be
doing the will of my Maker in being anything else
that's decent, just do, please. And as for ' degrading,'
if I may say it, I don't think as it is that at all, at
all. I would be more to blame if I stuck rings in
my ears, and my hands in my sides, and said 1 Shant'
to every honest man and woman as wanted to help
a body, like some. But I don't; and so long as
there's a leg o' mutton to roast in the kitchen, God
helping me, I'll roast it, and be glad. And, to speak
plain, I don't think you ought to be questioning me
in that way, Miss, without wishing to discredit you.
For if I was a young thing with more fancy nor
sense, which I'm thankful I ain't, you'd be setting
me agin my work, and making me think myself a
gold mine in petticoats, or something quite as bad.
But pray, Miss, if I may be so bold, what would
they be doing with a body like me, if they had her,
out in the foreign land you come from ? "
"WORDS ARE SNARES."
231
" Oh, they'd marry you first of all, of course.
And then you'd be happy, and want to make all the
world happy too."
" Lor, Miss, if that's all, I'm happy now. And, as
far as wanting goes, I'd rather see us all, from bairns
to old "men, as happy as queens than not. "
" Oh, I see, Martha, you're a warm-hearted old
hen ; and I'm right glad of it. Though I do wish
you had a few ideas in your head beyond your
dripping."
"Well I never!" exclaimed Martha, looking wonder-
ingly at her inquisitor; but, breaking forth into a
sigh, she added : " I mustn't take offence at any-
thing you say, Miss, for you can't help it, as they
say. And, perhaps, being as you are here, Miss,
you'll explain a mystery to me in my book ? "
Saying which, Martha picked up her Leisure
Hour, and opened her difficulty to Virginia. The
. " mystery " was of the simplest, and soon solved. But
words led to words, and when she heard the front
door open, and the Misses Lydham come into the hall,
Martha turned an alarmed eve towards the clock,
4/ '
and, begging Virginia's pardon for keeping her so
long in the kitchen, rushed off hurriedly to attend to
her domestic duties.
CHAPTER XXV.
"uprise, uprise, and taste the dewy morn."
On the Monday morning, Virginia astonished
Martha, cleaning the steps, by appearing at the front
door, ready for exercise, a full hour before breakfast
time.
" Her's got a fine and pretty face," said Martha to
herself, when she had watched Virginia up the street.
" But I suppose one must haxe a set off of some kind
to one's infirmities, and I thank the Lord I haven't a
mind as inquisitive as hers."
In truth, Virginia did look very pretty this morn-
ing : the clearness of her complexion and the
brightness of her eyes could hardly have been
surpassed, and if the early breeze did play rather
roughly with her hair at the sides, there are those
who think such an " aureole " rather an added charm
than a detraction.
Except a ruddy milkmaid and the sleepy Borton
police officer, Virginia met no one until she had got
out into the lanes on the west side of the town. She
had walked probably a mile from Borton, when she
saw two men in the distance, coming along in her
direction arm in arm. They were busy talking ; or,
at least, their heads were bent groundwards in a way
that suggested conversation of an engrossing kind.
And they stepped in unison, leisurely, seeming to
pause briefly before putting their alternate feet to
the ground. Virginia could not help noticing them
"uprise, and taste the dewy morn." 233
particularly, seeing that tliey filled the vista of the
lane in front of her ; and it required very little
observation on her part to convince her that they
were gentlemen.
When about a hundred yards away from her, one
of the two raised his head, and the other then quickly
did the same. They were the Borton curates,
evidently, like Virginia, out for a constitutional.
" Oh, Miss Foster," said the younger curate, when
the three met. " It was so very good of you yester-
day," and he held out his hand, blushing as he did so.
" How do you do ? " said the senior curate, smiling.
Virginia shook hands with them both.
Then Mr. Cathcart proceeded to explain that they
rose early to " sip the cream of the day," as it were;
and to tell her that if everyone in the country did as he
and Mr. Warmington did, and as Miss Foster did—if
he might venture to assume that she was in the habit
of walking out before breakfast—he believed it would
be for the advantage of everyone, physically and
mentally. He did it perhaps in fewer words than we
have used ; but they seemed a long time coming out,
Virginia thought; and not so very entertaining or
enlightening when he had said them.
" I think I'll go back home with you," said
Virginia, when Mr. Cathcart had ceased speaking ;
she addressed herself to Mr. Warmington. " It's
getting on for breakfast time, and I don't want to be
late."
Of course they were both very pleased to have
her society. Mr. Cathcart, indeed, said they were
honoured—at which Virginia looked as if she did not
altogether believe him.
234
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"1 was telling Mr. Warmington, Miss Foster/' he
said, " of the splendid way you secured the atten-
tion of those little mortals yesterday, and I may say
their affections too, Miss Foster. He was wishing
he had been present."
" I wish you had been, sir," said Virginia. " I
should liked to have thanked you again for telling
me about that old church, since it seems to be the
fashion over here to be always thanking for things."
" Oh ! but, Miss Foster, if he had been there, I
should not have been, and I shouldn't have liked that,
you see."
To this Virginia made no reply.
" Am I to have the pleasure of showing your
father and brother over the church ?" asked Mr.
Warmington. " You know I offered to go with them,
not that I am of much service, except, perhaps, as a
guide-book."
" Oh, I say," and Virginia looked at him with a
suspicious twinkle of merriment in her eyes. " I
guess I was rather rude the other day. But I'm im-
proving, I hope ; and I thought you might be only
the the beadle, isn't it ? or else the vicar, I
didn't know which. And I guess, too, I'm not as
civil by nature as English ladies."
" How, Miss Foster," said Warmington, when
Cathcart had finished exploding over Virginia's con-
fusion of the beadle and the vicar. " You must not
say that, indeed. And as for English ladies, I don't
know much about them, except as so many dif-
ferently-dressed heads in a congregation."
"Well, anyway," said Virginia, "you hit my
thoughts about the ' guide-book' business, simply
,{ UPRISE, AND TASTE THE DEWY MORN." 235
bang on the head. You couldn't have said it clearer
if you had had the run of my heart."
" Oh, Miss Foster!" said the younger curate,
drawing a prodigious breath.
" So you've been to Lumsey, I hear ? " questioned
Mr. Warmington.
" Yes," said Virginia, impassively. " It's like a
States' museum : an awful place to live in by oneself,
ain't it ? "
" I should think so, though probably Lord Lumsey
is of a different opinion. Lord Lumsey was at
church yesterday. It is years since he has sat in that
pew."
" Now, really! then he ain't religious ? "
" Oh, anything but that, Miss Foster," exclaimed
Mr. Cathcart. " He likes to dabble in all the beliefs
of the universe ; and they do say he has a Buddhist
and a Mussulman somewhere about the Hall with
him. Besides, he has been very dissolute, oh, very!"
" You don't say so ! Well, I just wouldn't have
thought it, to talk to him."
" And did you talk to him ? " asked Mr. Cathcart,
open-mouthed.
"We were there two hours or more, and he
showed us all the things himself."
" He was very kind, then," said Mr. Warmington.
" You must feel heavily weighted with knowledge,
Miss Foster, even already."
" Oh, but I don't," said Virginia. " There's
oh, fine piles of things I can't make top or tail of,
but which I mean to have a try at time after time till
I understand them."
" You'll be having factitious indigestion, Miss
236
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
Foster; indigestion from plethora of facts, I mean :
ha! ha ! " laughed Mr. Cathcart.
" No, I think not," said Virginia. " I'm used to
it. My swallow is pretty good too. But, I say, wouldn't
you two like to go on faster ? Haven't you service
or something waiting for you ? "
" "We are in your service, Miss Foster," said Mr.
Cathcart, bowing ; though, as Virginia had dropped
her parasol, and was then engaged, jointly with Mr.
Warmington, in recovering" it, the courtesy was lost
upon her.
" No, we don't have many early services," said
Mr. Warmington. " Our vicar is rather Broad
Church, if you understand our English distinctions ;
do you ? "
" Not very well. I take it you are mostly a church
militant, to keep your hands in for fighting the devil.
He's a wiry old customer here as elsewhere, I reckon ;
and if you didn't pick squabbles among yourselves,
you'd never keep up to his standard. But perhaps
I'm wrong ? "
" Well, I confess I hope you are," said Mr. War-
mington, smiling.
Mr. Cathcart, after half-laughing and half-frown-
ing, had finally removed his broad-brimmed hat, and
scratched his head.
" Where do you go from Borton ? " asked Mr.
Warmington.
" Well, first to London, I think, for a month.
Then, right slick up to Scotland. After that we turn
to the left and scuttle through Ireland from top to
bottom. When we've done Ireland—if we don't get
shot—it's to depend on the weather whether we go
" UPRISE, AND TASTE THE DEWY MORN." 237
through Europe. Father wants to squeeze in a
corner of Africa too ; but I guess he won't be able.
And then we'll go home to think about it all."
" So this is your first experience of England—this
little country place ?"
" Yes, all except a house near London, where we
had nothing but old ladies to see and talk to. That
was exhilarating, I must say."
" Old ladies," said Mr. Cathcart, enthusiastically,
" are the very Bat surely that's Miss Clack
yonder at her confounded window. I beg your
pardon, Miss Foster, that word will slip out; and
you know it has authority from the Te Deurn.
Yes, it is Miss Clack ! "
" Anyhow, she looks happy. She's putting on
her glasses too, ain't she ? And in a gardening
bonnet! Oh, my, hut you're not so sleepy a set of
folks as I thought, after all."
" My dear Miss Foster," said Mr. Warmington, re-
flectively, " forgive me if I seem to preach—I don't
mean to. But there's nothing a sound man more
enjoys than work. It's life to him. And when he
can't get work, his nature is, as it were, poisoned.
That's where you American men and women alike, I
believe, excel us. You have an unbounded field for
labour and enterprise ; and you are happy in being
able to give form to every useful conception that
comes to your minds. And if I were inclined to
discredit the inspiration of the Book of Genesis, there
is nothing would influence me more than the seem-
ing doctrine of the degradation of labour. The
self-satisfaction one sees on the face of so many of
your countrymen who come over to look at us full
238
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
of pity for us, I believe many of them are)—is the
result, and the legitimate result, of this healthy and
unrestricted use of all their faculties. Here, if most
of us can get our daily bread by the forcing of one
faculty at the expense of all the others, we feel that
we are fortunate. And it shows how much nobility
there is in mankind, I think, that we keep up our
standard as a religious nation, and are, determined to
be grateful for what we have, rather than repining
for what we might but cannot have. You Americans,
Miss Foster, have no need to boast of your greatness
in the future. It is inevitable, as it seems to me ;
and perfectly natural. Don't dub us sleepy, Miss
Foster, if you mean the term as a reproach. If we
seem sleepy, be assured it is more our misfortune
than our fault. But really, I beg your pardon for
this discourse."
" No, don't do that,"^said Virginia, with fervour.
" I like it uncommonly. And I guess I'll think it
over, and send them an account of it to Timoleono-
polis."
"There, Warmington,"said Mr. Cathcart. " Long
live the gift of the gab. Nothing so specious as
speech, Miss Foster; nor so successful. But you
mustn't believe all Mr. Warmington says. He is too
partially experienced to be an impartial authority on
this life of ours here."
"Thank you, Cathcart," said Mr. Warmington.
" Our breakfast, like Miss Foster's, is probably wait-
ing for us. Don't forget that I am at your brother
and father's disposal if they want me."
" Oh, Warmington, what will Miss Foster think of
you ? Arn't you at her disposal as well ? " and the
"uprise, and taste the dewy morn." 239
young curate smiled from his friend towards Virginia,
and vice versa, as though he were introducing a pair
of acquaintances.
"Miss Foster is beyond me," said the other. "I
fear I can be of no more use to her, else I would not
have given you opening for a gibe, I assure you."
" You are awfully good," said Virginia, extending
her hand to Mr. Warmington. " I guess it's a
pleasure for me to shake hands with you, sir."
So they shook hands, and then she and Mr. Cath-
cart shook hands in a much more hasty way than
Mr. Cathcart thought was due to him in return for
the very slight but still, on the whole (he might be
excused for thinking), sufficient pressure and
warmth which he contributed to the ceremony.
"Poor Warmington !" said Mr. Cathcart to his
friend, when Virginia had left them. " She is
terribly hard on you. Did you catch the satire of
her ' good-bye ? ' "
" To you, or me ? "
" Oh, you, of course. She said ^it was a pleasure
to say ' good-bye ' to you."
"No, did she ? I missed that. But if she meant
it in that way, it was very rude of her."
" Oh, but, old fellow, you deserved it. Fancy
preaching your cosmopolitan views at a young thing
with such a divine face as hers. Now, if you had
said all that to Miss Clack, the termagant! I could
have understood it. But to exert yourself so
eloquently, as to the manner, I mean (and you can
do it, Warmington, when you try), all for the good of
a mere child, who thinks of nothing but lovers, and
finery, and novels, and newspapers! My dear fellow,
240
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
I never before so fully appreciated the propinquity
of the sublime to the ridiculous."
u I wish to goodness you would hold your
tongue, Cathcart, if you cannot speak sense now
and then," ejaculated the other, in an angry tone,
so unusual in him, that his companion looked at him
in surprise.
CHAPTER XXVI.
"what's in a name?"
" Cousin Mary," said Sam, at breakfast, " you
and Virginia have been changing colours, the colour
of your cheeks, I mean. You should see Virginia at
Timoleonopolis. She's generally rather yellow, and
quite black under the eyes. But now she is simply
horrid, she might be a moss rose-bud."
"Ah! you lazy boy!" observed Mary. " If you got
up at cockcrow, you might have as good a complexion
—though you could hardly resemble a moss rose ; a
beetroot, or a pickling cabbage, now, you might try
to rival."
"' Merci, merci!' as the Frenchmen say, and
' merci' to you, Cousin Constance, for the many
compliments you keep right between your teeth, lest
they should come out and drown a fellow. But look
here, father, now that you are so well again, don't
you think these girls ought to give their wretched
little pupils a whole holiday ? "
" I must say I do, my dears," replied Uncle Foster,
looking up from his egg, and wrinkling his forehead
to give weight to his words.
" Ah, do ! " said Virginia. " The little chaps
would like it, I'm sure."
" I think we might, Conny," said Mary.
"Well," said Constance, meditatively. "I don't
know that any of the parents will object. Wednes-
day would be better than to-morrow."
R
242
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"And, if you would like it, Uncle, and all of you,
suppose we have a picnic to the Lumsey Cleft. Lord
Lumsey will give us leave, I'm sure. It's a chasm
in the rocks, at one end of his park ; and there's a
waterfall, and such very pretty woods and copses.
It will be divine," said Mary.
" Yes, Cousin Mary," said Sam ; " when there
are some angels there, you know; not until. I. mean
you and Cousin Constance ; oh, ah! and Virginia as
well. Quite a triplet of Graces ! "
" My dear cousin," said Mary, raising her hands in
entreaty, and with an assumed expression of suffering
on her face. "You are very nauseating at times.
If I did not think these were your holiday manners,
put on under a very mistaken idea of propriety, I
should shudder to conceive to myself what your life
over there must be."
" You've no idea how jolly it is, Cousin Mary.
We don't consider other people's feelings over there,
and that's half the pleasure of living."
" Ay," said Mary. " But why not have so much
consideration, and thus get the whole pleasure of
living out of life ? "
" Oh, but I don't know that it would be a paying
experiment. I had such a dream last night, Cousin
Mary. Shall I tell it you ?"
" Just as you please. Though let me warn you
that I don't believe in dreams, not even if they come
true."
" It was about you partly."
" Then I'm sure it was nonsense."
" Well, anyway, you might be civil enough to let
me tell it. I dreamt of a cornfield, like vour wheat-
" what's in a name ? "
243
fields here, but instead of having ears of corn at the
top of the stalks, my grain had heads, heads of people,
at the top ; and all the people were women and
girls."
u What a dream ! " laughed Mary.
" These stalks," proceeded Sam, " were being
blown about by the wind ever so, and the heads
turned round and round like weathercocks. Some
were laughing, some were glum as potatoes, some
were frowning "
" I guess I was frowning, then," interrupted Mary.
" And some stupids were crying. Why they were
doing this I don't know. Then a fellow with a sickle
came sprawling over the stile, and before he could get
both his legs over, a gust of wind took his cap off and
carried it high into the air—so high, that it seemed
to have got into the clouds. Next I heard a voice
speaking—it seemed to be speaking to him with the
sickle—and it said : 1 Cut none of the grain, except
the single stalk that your hat drops upon.' The man
looked up and down to see who was talking, I sup-
pose ; and then he drew his thumb along the edge of
the sickle.- After that he stared about him for his
hat, which he couldn't see for some time. When he
did see it, it was a long way up in the air, but
coming down, for it seemed to grow bigger and
bigger every moment. At last it fell about twenty
yards away. Then the chap grinned, again looked
at the edge of his sickle, jumped off the stile, and
pushed his way through the stalks till he came to the
place where the hat had fallen. It had covered up
the head of one of the stalks, so that he couldn't see
the face. But this didn't matter to him ; for he set
244
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
to at once, and putting the edge of his sickle
to the stem, he sliced it through, so that the stalk—
head, hat, and all—tumbled into his arms. He
scuttled back to the stile and uncovered the face.
It was yourself, Mary, as I'm a living sinner!
And fancy my feelings when the wretched little
beggar began kissing you ! at least, I thought him a
little beggar until he turned and let me have a fair
look at him. Then I didn't feel so mad with him,
Cousin Mary, for, if he wasn't my double, I don't
know myself."
" I wish there was an Act of Parliament to pre-
vent such impudent dreams," said Mary. " Don't you
think it a crime, Uncle Foster, to interfere with one's
personality in that way ? "
" Oh, you mustn't ask me, my dear," said Uncle
Foster, shaking his head, and holding his sides to
suppress some laughter that wanted to come out in an
ungentlemanly way.
"You ought to take it as rather a flattering proof
of the interest we feel in you," said Sam.
" Maybe," said Mary, " but I don't."
" I tell you what, my dear," chuckled Unele Foster,
" you have your redress ; if you like to avail jmurself
of it, dream of him, my dear, and don't spare him."
" Oh, dear me, uncle," said Mary, " that would be
punishing the victim for the good of the criminal."
Before beginning lessons, Miss Lydham wrote a
line to Lord Lumsey, asking permission to visit the
Lumsey Cleft. Had his lordship not been at home,
they would have gone without asking leave of any-
one ; but, under the circumstances, it was only proper
to apply to him as a matter of form.
" WHAT'S IN A NAME ? "
245
" Won't be be coming with us, if you let bim
know about it in that way ? " asked Sam, looking very
black.
" I don't think it likely," said Miss Lydbam, quite
amused a£ the naive notions of her cousin as to the
habits of an English nobleman.
The Americans were again left to get through the
morning as best they could by themselves. Uncle
Foster mentioned Houghton, and groaned when he
remembered how impossible it was for him to walk
there a second time. Sam yawned repeatedly, took
up books from the table, and threw them down with
a bang, unopened, and began to mutter ill-sounding
expletives. As for Virginia, she had her note-book,
and, but for Sam's restlessness, would have been con-
tented enough for a time.
" A week of this place is too much, father," ex-
claimed Sam at length. " I'm durned sick of it."
" It's very slow ! " acquiesced Uncle Foster, but
then, you must remember, Sam, you didn't come here
to see Borton, but your cousins."
" Oh—ah ! and that makes just the difference,"
said Sam. " Didn't you say something about the
church, Virginny; something to see in it—close to—I
mean ? "
" That there is ! " said Virginia. " I'll go and
stick my hat on ; and then, if you're ready, we'll go
right straight off for it. It's petrified history—that's
what it is."
Sam growled a little, and his father grumbled at
the stiffness of his limbs and joints ; but they both
went out with Virginia, and the fresh air had quick
and beneficial influence on their nerves and tempers.
246
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
They were crossing the Long, towards the church
passage, when they heard an old woman cry out, and
immediately afterwards a dog began to yell ear-
piercingly. Turning round, they saw a little white
puppy apparently run over by a farmer's light gig,
rolling on the ground, with its legs in the air ; while
the old woman on the pavement, with her uplifted
hands, looked as though she had seen a ghost.
" Oh ! " cried Virginia, and hastening towards the
hapless little creature, she picked it up tenderly.
" Who owns it ? " she called to the woman.
Thus interrogated, the old soul dropped her hands,
approached Virginia, and, with many a " Dear!
dear ! " said she didn't know as nobody owned him.
He were a wastrel, put out to get bit and sup where
and how he could.
" Life of grandmother ! " said Virginia ; " he's
not killed ! and, as if to confirm her words, the little
animal licked her hand, and then howled over the
pain caused by the action.
The old woman looked about her helplessly,
fumbling at her shawl the while, and then began to
slip away, as though she feared' having the invalid
fathered upon her by some means. She quickly
returned, however ; and, touching Virginia on the
arm, pointed, and said, " Look you ! his reverence be
coming. Take the dawg to his reverence."
The "reverence " indicated was Mr. Warmington,
who at once crossed the road to Virginia ; and the
two rejoined Uncle Foster and Sam.
" Let me carry it to my rooms ! " said the curate.
" They are near at hand, and we will see what hurt it
has sustained!"
" what's in a name ? "
247
Bat Virginia would not resign the animal to him.
Then she introduced her father and brother, and
told the curate that they were thinking of asking him
to guide them over the church, as he had promised.
Mr. Warmington bowed, smiled, and said it would
give him great pleasure.
" But we must attend to the sick first of all," he
added ; " and perhaps you gentlemen can find some-
thing to interest you about the exterior of the church
while Miss Foster and I take the dog to the
hospital."
Mr. Cathcart was at home, and rose from his chair
so hurriedly when Virginia and Warmington entered
the room, that he upset it, and startled the dog so
much that he barked faintly, and then cried as before.
" I do hope he hasn't broken his leg," said
Virginia, " that's the fear. Get some hot water, will
you, please."
Mr. Cathcart rang the bell instantly, and ordered
boiling water.
" No, not boiling," said she—■" and a rag to bathe
him."
" Take the key, Cathcart, there's a good fellow,
and let Mr. Foster and Miss Foster's brother into the
church " said the senior curate.
" Oh," said the other " but I can't tell them any-
thing. You know all about it; I don't. Hadn't you
better go, and I'll stay and see after the dog."
" Don't either of you let me keep you," said
Virginia. " I must see after doggy. My father
wants very much to hear the history of the place if
it don't tire you. And I'll go home as soon as the
little fellow is better."
248
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Good morning, Miss Foster," said Mr.
Warmington, taking the key.
When the hot water and rags were brought, Mr.
Cathcart asked Virginia to hold the patient while he
examined its paw. He was a long time over the
examination, so long that Virginia had to sit down ;
and this necessitated Mr. Cathcart Agoing on his
knees.
" I don't think he can be hurt mortally," said
Virginia. " See how he wags his tail and tries to
lick."
" Ah, Miss Foster," remarked the curate, mildly,
" that's because he's fond of you. He'd die doing
it."
" He's grateful to me, and so he ought to be."
Saying which, Virginia bent her head over the dog
and kissed its cold black nose, receiving a lick by
way of thanks. So close was her head to Mr.
Cathcart's, that he felt his face tickled by some of the
loose hairs which skirted her forehead.
" I think we will bandage the paw," said the
curate. " Would you kindly hold the leg from the
body, by the thigh—So ! "
Thus, after a few plaintive squalls, much wriggling,
and very much indiscriminate licking, the poor dog
was pronounced to he on the high road to con-
valescence.
" I guess he'll live," said Virginia, " and I'm glad
I took him up. The next question is, what to do
with him."
" Perhaps Miss Lydham wouldn't care to have it in
the house, because of the pupils, you know, Miss
Foster."
"what's in a name?"
249
" That's what I thought. And the old stupid in
the street said he was a wastrel—a dog without a
master, I suppose she meant."*
" Suppose we keep it here for the present. You
can learn how it goes on every day. while you stay
here."
u I wonder whether I ought," said Virginia,
thoughtfully. " But you're going to marry my
cousin Constance, arn't you, Mr. Cathcart ? "
"I beg your pardon, Miss Foster," ejaculated the
curate, jumping to his feet.
" Oh! I mean if you are on such close terms with
my cousin, there won't be any harm in my coming
here, that's all."
" But you asked if I was engaged to marry Miss
Lydham, did you not ? "
" Yes—it's a fact, ain't it ? "
" No, it is not. Who has said such a thing to
you ? But I suppose the story is due to one of the
many tongues hereabouts that fabricate stories for
want of something better to do. It is too bad."
" Well, I don't know how that may be. I heard it
somewhere."
" It isn't true," said the curate, walking to the
mantel-piece and resting his elbow on the marble,
while he looked at Virginia with an expression of face
almost savage in its sullenness. He had self-corn-
mand enough, however, to throw off the cloud
almost as soon as it appeared, and he was smiling
pleasantly, when, a minute later, he settled the dog
difficulty for the present by saying that, in his
capacity of doctor, he forbade the animal's removal
that day at least.
250
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" And if you won't call and see the poor brute,
Miss Foster," he added, " why, I'll bring him .to you
in Heather Street, shall I ? "
" Oh, of course I must see him," she said, " some-
how. But as for ways and means, they must wait.
You have been very good to him, and if he's only
half a christian, he ought to be almighty grateful to
you. That you ought," she added, stooping over the
puppy. " And you ought to have a name, too, I
reckon."
" Oh, Miss Foster," said the curate, " let me name
him. Do, please. You know—though perhaps it is
not quite the thing to say—it's part of my profession
to give names to living things."
" Well, what's your fancy ? " asked Virginia.
" I hereby name you 'Virginia,' " said the curate,
putting his hand on the poppy's head. He said the
words with some slight hesitation, and looked at the
American girl to see whether she were offended with
him.
" Oh," said she, rising, " that's a queer sort of
business ; half liberty and half compliment. But you
can't help yourself now, doggy; you've got your
name, and good or bad, it must stick, I suppose.
Good morning," and Virginia held out her hand in
farewell for the second time that day.
" And I may bring it for you to see to-morrow,
Miss Foster?"
" Oh, certainly, mister; if you don't mind the
trouble."
The curate re-entered the room, went straightway
to the puppy, lifted it, and kissed it fervently on the
nose.
"what's in a name?"
251
Then, as some other thoughts drove the puppy
from his head, he began to pace the room. He con-
tinued walking up and down for some little time,
until, sighing, he acknowledged, for the benefit of all
who might chance to hear his confession, that he was
a great fool, and that, if his happiness for life was
ruined, he had only himself to thank for it. Which
confession, humiliating though it was, seemed to ease
him, for after making it, he resumed his sermon.
CHAPTER XXVII.
" a little dog is a great evil."
In answer to Miss Lydham's note, there came, that
afternoon, a stately cream-colonred missive, em-
blazoned with a coronet and the letter u L."
It read as follows :
u My Dear Miss Lydham,
" May I presume to take the initiative out
of your hands as regards your proposed picnic ? If
you will allow me to do so, you will confer a favour
on me, and be one of the means, under Providence, of
saving my servants from self-murder through idleness.
I will send a drag for your party at any hour of the
day you like ; and, as there will be room for others
besides yourselves, perhaps you might wish to invite
one or two friends, who may be sure of a welcome
from, Miss Lydham,
" Your faithful servant,
" Lumsey.
" P.S.—Perhaps the Borton curates would prove
an acceptable addition to your party. But I leave it
entirely in your hands."
" Now, I call that civil," said Uncle Foster ; " that's
as it should be."
" It's very civil," said Miss Lydham, " but I don't
altogether know, Uncle, whether its quite as it should
be. The civility, at any rate is all extended towards
you, not us,"
"A LITTLE DOG IS A GREAT EVIL." 253
" Very much indeed towards us," said Sam, laying
stress on the pronoun. " I guess it'll bear narrowing
still farther."
" You're fine and ill-natured, Sani," said Virginia.
" And you're fine and good-natured, Virginny,"
said Sam. " What with lame puppy dogs and
curates, and British lords, you'll be laying the
universe under obligations soon ; and, like that old
frog in the parable, you'll swell with the sense of
favours conferred till "
" Don't quarrel, Sam," interrupted Mary ; " family
quarrels are to me such hateful things. I always give
way to Conny rather than disagree with her ; and, if
I had a husband, I know I should let him have his
own way in nearly everything."
'" Oh, you would!" said Sam, smiling ; " and, Cousin
Mary, I'm sure you'd have no cause to be sorry for
it. You'd find he would soon be running even with
you—and that for life."
" A drag would be no end swell and nobby,
wouldn't it ? " observed Virginia.
"We should never hear the last of it," said Miss
Lydham. " Not that it wouldn't save old Martin a
good deal of trouble, though I oughtn't to say it,"
she added, smiling, and looking towards Uncle Foster.
" Nonsense, my dear," murmured the old gentleman,
" I think you might say ' yes' to his lordship at once,
don't you ? And, if I may say such a thing, my
dear," he added, with his hand by his mouth to con-
centrate and soften his words, " it would give me an
opportunity of talking political economy with his
lordship, which I somehow missed doing the other
day."
254
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Oh, well, Uncle, that decides it," said Miss
Lydham. " I'll write and thank him, and accept."
" And/jdk. Cathcart ? " said Mary, " we must ask
him." O
« If
we ask one, we must ask both," said Miss
Lydham, " though, of course, Mr. Warmington
won't come."
" Try it on, Cousin Constance," said Sam, deri-
sively, " and the puppy dog into the bargain. Who
knows, too, but we might find an exhausted kitten
somewhere about the premises to complete the com-
pany."
" My word, Sam," said Virginia, " you're pro-
digious rusty ; what's the matter ? "
" If you don't hold your tongue, sir," said Mary,
" I'll have a headache, and spend Wednesday at home
making spills."
"Then send you may have it," cried Sam ; " I vow
I'll have something worse."
"Thank you," said Mary, " then I shall, please God,
be perfectly well next Wednesday."
So Miss Lydham wrote a letter of thanks and
acceptance to Lord Lumsey ; said that, if convenient
to his lordship, they would like the drag to be at the
door by ten o'clock, and mentioned that, profiting by
the kind permission accorded in the postcript to his
lordship's letter, they had invited Mr. Warmington
and Mr. Cathcart to be of the party. Then she put
on her hat, and went towards St. Simon's Close.
The curate's servant, in answer to her ring, said
that Mr. Warmington wras out, but not Mr. Cathcart.
So, without formal announcement, Miss Lydham
knocked softly at the door, and entered the room.
"A LITTLE DOG IS A GREAT EVIL." 255
The curate had certainly not heard the rap. He was
extended along the sofa on his back ; his eyes were
closed, and his mouth was open.
For a moment Miss Lydham hesitated ; should she
leave the room quietly, thereby letting him finish his
nap, or should she rouse him.
But something helped her to a compromise in this
difficulty. The curate's right hand was across his breast,
and in his hand was a photograph—face upwards.
He had fallen asleep, and, naturally, I&iss Lydham
wished to know whose was the portrait that could
influence him so happily. So she trod towards him
softly, and bent her head. It was her own photograph
—the vignette taken only that year, and said to be
a very becoming representation of her.
The brief moment of ecstasy Miss Lydham then
enjoyed was of itself worth living for. Young men do
not fall asleep clasping to their hearts portraits of
ladies for whom thev feel little or no regard of the
</ O
kind called affection; and then, he held it so tightly
that it was almost cracked by the forcible clutch of his
hands ! Dear fellow ! though seemingly so frivolous
in matters of the heart, and disposed ordinarily to
talk lightly of the relationship between young
unmarried men and women, there was a power of
passion within him, evokable by her who was to be his
partner for life—and by her alone.
Surely such love was worth living for ! Better far
to have for a lover a man externally impassive so
long as he was controlled in all vital action by such
internal fires of affection as were declared by this
single grasp of the hand than one profuse in amorous
asseverations ; better far such a man than a hot
256
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN,
enthusiast, who adored his mistress's eyebrows and
nose, and worshipped her shadow, venting his adora-
tion with so great a tempest of language and gesture
that she was fain to think herself a goddess, and her
sweetheart a mere man—the quick disabuse of which
fancy, as applied to herself, would soon breed dis-
content somewhere. No wonder Miss Lydham
hesitated, joined her hands before her bosom, and was
radiant with happiness.
" Yap ! yap ! "
Was ever bark of dog so unwelcome ? Was ever so
ungrateful a return for kindness bestowed ?
The curate opened his eyes at the first yap, and ere
the second, had rubbed his eyes. Then he moved
lazily, and discovered Constance Lydham standing
bv his side.
In an instant he was on his feet, letting the photo-
graph fall to the ground, and, with a shadowy inquir-
ing expression of astonishment, he said, "Miss
Lydham!" as he lifted his hands to his forehead.
" Oh, my dear Will! " she burst forth, bending for-
ward with outstretched hands, as though to embrace
him, and speaking very earnestly, " you must forgive
me not waking you at first, will you not ? I could not
help looking at you, you were so peaceful. I could
have popped a cherry into your mouth, dear."
She did not heed the shiver that shook his
body, but went on without a pause to tell him why
she had come, and to press him to go with them to
Lumsey Hall. When she had said her say, he asked
her quietly if they were all going.
" Yes, the whole houseful," said Constance, "and,
if she may offer the more attraction, our odd little
"A LITTLE DOG IS A GREAT EVIL." 257
American girl is included, though," she added in a
lower voice, and speaking confidentially, "my opinion
of her changes every hour of the day, and, candidly,
Will, I don't know what to think of her."
" Ah ! how do you mean ? "
" Well, entre nous, she's not quite the baby in arms
she seems. But you shall judge for yourself if you
will come. I mean you will have plenty of oppor-
tunity of doing so," and Miss Lydham laughed lightly.
" It's too good to lose," said the curate, stepping
to the little brown-framed mirror over the mantel-
piece, and smoothing his hair. " But, I say, what a
shame to take me unawares in this way ! Why didn't
you wake me ? you might as well."
" Ah ! " said Miss Lydham, raising a finger of her
right hand, and looking so happy that he turned
from her reflection in the glass to see, by comparison,
if her figure had not therein suffered some meliorating
influence.
" What's the matter ? " and he stared at her in the
overwhelming way peculiar to him.
" Ah, Will! " she said, with yet heightened happi-
ness in her face, and this time she pointed with her
finger to the portrait lying bent on the floor by the
side of the sofa.
The curate walked towards the bit of cardboard,
picked it up, and put it on the table, with a quiet
" Oh, I see ! " which to Miss Lydham confirmed the
truth of the ideas that had occupied her mind when
she stood by his recumbent body.
" Do you wonder now?" she asked, smiling radiantly.
" I should be an ungrateful boor if I did," said
he, flattening the card, " It's time Warmington was
s
258 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
here," he added, " I was only waiting to see him
before going .out myself."
" And, oh," said Miss Lydham, " if he will, he is to
come with us. Lord Lumsey mentioned him in the
letter."
" Yes, they are old cronies, I believe, after a
fashion ; but I don't think he'll accept. Leave the
message with me, and I'll see that you have an
answer some time this evening."
" Thanks, dear Will, and I hope he'll come. He is
the sort of man that would be so much improved by
society, and who has the power of benefiting society
in return, too, which is rarer still."
" Oh ! " said the curate, " I didn't think you took
the trouble to look so deeply into Warmington's
nature. I quite agree with you, though, and I'll let
him know what }7_ou say."
" For heaven's sake, do no such thing," said Miss
Lydham, laughing ; " it would be impertinent in me,
a woman, considerably his junior, to be prescribing
his manner of life to Mr. Warmington. Ho; men
like him must be saved by older women than me."
" What! Would you have him marry his grand-
mother ? "
" My dear Will, how complimentary you are !
But salvation doesn't come through marriage—that is,
the kind of salvation I mean. I ought to call it
regeneration, though, not salvation."
" Oh, I positively refuse to keep all this good
doctrine to myself. I'll let him know your sentiments,
Constance, though I won't tell him they are not
original.
" That you can do as you please about," she said.
"A LITTLE DOG IS A GREAT EVIL." 259
" Good-bye, Will; and I'm so very glad you will be
with us on Wednesday."
" Yes ; so am I. But mind the puppy. By-the-
by, you have heard about this dog, I suppose ? "
" Oh! So this is the little creature they
rescued this morning. Poor little Snowball! You
ought to call him ' Snowball,' if you are going to
keep him."
" He has a name already," said the curate, laugh-
ing. " He has a girl's name. We gave it this
morning, and though it is unsuitable, it is appropriate
for the occasion."
" Indeed ! What is it ? But I must really be
going, Will."
" We named it ' Virginia,' after the rescuer, you
see. Good-bye for the present."
" Virginia ! oh ! " Miss Lydham looked as if she
wanted to say something else. She did not, however,
re-enter the little wicket which separated the curate's
house from the road, but with a parting nod and a
smile, went her way.
Miss Lydham had not been gone five minutes when
the senior curate pushed the wicket, and appeared at
the window of the room.
Mr. Cathcart immediately made known the invita-
tion he had received on his behalf.
" Shall I go?" said Mr. Warmington meditatively.
" Go ! of course you will. You are just the sort of
man who is so much improved by society, and who
can in return improve the society he favours.
Moreover, vou are also the sort of man who wants
y
saving from himself."
"Where do you get. your ideas at times, my
260
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
friend ? " asked Warmington smiling. " They have
good literary form now and then."
" They are a friendly criticism, old boy. But you
will come ? They are all to be there—La petite
Virginia, and the rest."
" I think I will treat myself," said Mr. Warming-
ton, with such dubious satisfaction on his face that
Mr. Cathcart burst into laughter. " And I will go to
No. 19 at once."
" Settling arrangements, are they ? " he said in reply
to Martha's eloquent assurance that he was wanted
by the ladies very badly. " Then perhaps I had
better step in ? "
" I'm sure you had, sir," she said, closing the door
firmly when she had inveigled Mr. Warmington on
to the mat, and slyly dropping the latch afterwards ;
for, instinctively, she felt that men of genius like
Mr. Warmington are sad creatures of impulse, and
that she would do wisely in thus cutting off one
avenue of escape, should he change his mind suddenly.
To make assurance doubly sure, she asked him to
please to ascend the stairs before instead of after her.
In the drawing-room he was welcomed warmly,
but, Miss Lydbam being away, he would not stay.
He met her at the door, however, and explained anew
why he had called.
" Oh, I am so very glad," said Miss Lydham
instantly. " It will be so good for you as well as for
us—that is," she added, slightly changing colour—
" I have no right to say anything about it, but do
you not think that on the whole one gains more than
one loses by social intercourse ? "
" Thank you, Miss Lydham," he said, taking her
"a little dog is a great evil." 261
hand, and smiling. " It would be a queer world
otherwise. And I understand now where Cathcart
gets most of his worthiest inspirations from."
" Then you will not disappoint us ?" said Miss
Lydham, in a flutter lest her own words should be
declared to her.
" No, no," he said, now in the street. " I rave
given my promise, and I shall keep it."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
"tea-cup storms and calms."
Our American friends got through the remainder ot
Monday and Tuesday morning as best they could.
Uncle Foster met the Vicar of B or ton on the
Monday afternoon, and got into conversation with
him. And the Vicar, finding that Mr. Foster did
not speak through his nose, spit momentarily, or call
him bare mister when he addressed him—habits, he
had been given to understand, common to American
gentlemen—so far surmounted his prejudices, that
he invited him to supper and a chat that very evening.
But Uncle Foster, on his side, surmising that the
Vicar, though a worthy enough man, with possibly a
few more original ideas in some secret corner of his
brain than he let fall during their ten minutes of talk,
was, on the whole, rather a slow fish, managed to evade
his kindness by pleading recent convalescence and
the night air.
As for Sam, he broke his resolution to abstain from
smoking while at Borton. And Mary, in con-
sequence, declared that if he was disagreeable without
his pipe, she did not know how to express the
measure of his offensiveness in this, her latest expe-
rience of him. Nevertheless, within twenty-four
hours, she was so won by his arguments, that she
consented to light his pipe for him—though she did
it with her handkerchief to her nose and disapproval
in her eye.
"TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 263
On Tuesday morning, Virginia, accompanied by
her cousin Constance, called to inquire after the
puppy. The curates were out, and so they had to
be satisfied with the maid's assurance that the little
animal (" which it was a funny go to give a gentle-
man dog a lady's name," said the girl, with a smirk),
ate his victuals, and was so much of a plague, that
there could be little amiss with him.
" Oh I it must come away, then," said Miss
Lydham, earnestly. " I cannot think of allowing it
to be a trouble to the gentlemen in this way." To
which the maid replied that nothing would please her
more, but the gentlemen would not part with it ;
they were for ever stroking the little beast, and
calculated on its growing up for a watch.
The ladies soon had enough of such tittle-tattle ;
and subsequently Constance whispered to Virginia
that she never ceased to marvel how bachelors (poor
things !) could endure to be subject to the tyranny of
such tongues as that of this slovenly, voluble maid-
servant.
On their return to Heather Street, they met
Captain Pinchard, who, with a mild leer, told
Virginia in an undertone that he had been thinking
of her ever since he had the immortal pleasure of first
meeting her. He also said that he hoped to see her
again that very evening. After much solicitation, he
had prevailed on Miss Spout to invite him—she was
so very particular about admitting gentlemen of his
asre into her house, he said, with a chuckle that
O ' '
seemed to shake him all over, and affect him equally
inside and out, judging from the cough that followed
his announcement. He made sundry other remarks
261
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
of so free' a nature, that even Miss Lydham was sur-
prised. She knew that he was rather a wanton at
times, especially after his luncheon, which was heavy
enough for anyone else's dinner, though a mere prelude
to his own ; but when he began to tell her cousin that,
if he were forty years younger, he knew where he
should go for eyes, whose cheeks he should be fond
of looking at (at least), and whose pretty little nose he
should always be drawing on his papers instead of
doing his proper work-—it was more than indecorous.
And so they parted abruptly.
" He had a sunstroke when he was in the East,"
said Miss Lydham, apologetically.
" Oh, indeed! Cousin Constance," said Virginia.
" And I guess the sun couldn't resist having a scorch
at his nose by the way—for it is as red as a lobster."
" My dear," said Miss Lydham, " you ought not to
notice the afflictions of an old man."
" I don't take a cent's interest in them, Cousin
Constance. But, if he has the flaring impertinence
to talk of my charms, as he calls my nose and the
rest of them, in the way he does, I reckon I'm en-
titled to have a shy at his afflictions, as you call his
nose and the rest of it."
" Well, well, dear; he's very different in the
evening, you'll see. Quite a beau chevalier in his
dress coat, I assure you; that is, my dear," she added,
with a wicked little laugh; " if it didn't set off his
stomach so very, very much."
It had been arranged that Miss Lydham should go
with Uncle Foster and Virginia to Honeysuckle
Villa, as Miss Spout's modest little house was called.
Sam had refused to go. He said he was not invited,
"tea-cup storms and calms."
265
which was true ; for Miss Spout would have gone
into a fit voluntarily, or worn a crinoline in public,
rather than entertain a young man of Samuel Fos-
tor's age* and calibre. But, in the corner of the
drawing-room, the young American had confided to
Mary Lydham that he, for his part, would rather
spend a December night on the tower of Borton
church than a few hours in the society of such a
" human " as Miss Spout. And, when Mary Lydham
accused him of being ill-natured, inasmuch as either
she or her sister would have to stay at home with
him, their recreant guest, he denied the charge
stoutly, said that women must have opportunities for
self-sacrifice if they are to satisfy their hungry con-
sciences, and that, therefore, he was a benefactor to
Mary, and would like to be treated as one.
No one who understood Miss Spout could doubt
that an evening party of such magnitude as the forth-
coming one was a courageous undertaking on her
part. The responsibility had been incurred in an
irresponsible moment, and had caused her much
subsequent anxiety. However, after a certain amount
of maidenly despair, she recovered her peace of mind ;
and then, in a fit of exhilaration, she determined to
make a night of it. She invited Miss Clack to meet
the strangers; and the same afternoon she was
pondering whom she should ask to fraternise with
Mr. Foster, when she met Captain Pinchard, who
rallied her so about the anxious look under her eyes,
that she confessed her dilemma ; whereupon, to her
mingled horror and contentment, he settled the
problem by inviting himself.
Thenceforward, Miss Spout assumed a panoply of
266
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
courage which transfigured her. Not Socrates,
having refused an extended lease of life, could have
looked at the hemlock with more magnanimity than
that with which Miss Spout anticipated her evening
party, when, with tightened lips and clad in her
salmon-coloured silk, she began to sit in readiness for
her guests.
Miss Clack was the first to arrive. She came
early—a coruscation of dark blue satin, white lace,
and gold jewellery ; and spent the twenty minutes
she had stolen on the others in " settling herself
down," as she said to Miss Spout.
" I'm full of curiosity, my dear," she said, " to
talk to the young American person ; so, if you can't
arrange a whist party to your satisfaction, just put us
two out, and we will amuse ourselves."
To which Miss Spout assented, of course.
Then came Captain Pinchard. He walked up the
little garden promenade very slowly, under the eyes
of Miss Clack, who, in harbour herself, marked all
his personal imperfections from behind the curtain.
" Actually picking his teeth with a goosequill, Miss
Spout—the monster ! Just as if his teeth weren't all
false—which I know them to be, every one ! "
Having entered the house, Captain Pinchard stood
in the hall (a meagre triangle of space between three
doors), with his hat far back on his head, saying,
" How d'ye does" to Miss Spout for a minute or
two ; and then, hanging his hat on the gas lamp,
he went into the parlour, and said several " How
d'ye does" to Miss Clack; after which the captain
seated himself between the ladies, and crossed his
legs.
"tea-cup storms and calms." 267
" You know the American gentleman, Mr. Foster
I think, Captain Pinchard ? " said Miss Spout.
" I do, madam," replied the captain ; " and what's
more, I know his daughter."
" Oh!" said Miss Clack, moving herself a hair's
breadth away, and rustling like a hundred trees in
the wind.
" I do, madam," the captain repeated, turning to
Miss Clack ; " and, by George, she's magnificent! "
" There! Captain Pinchard, you've done for your-
self!" said Miss Clack, holding up her hand, and
turning her head away. "If all the young persons
which Captain Pinchard had styled ' magnificent'
had been truly so, we should he living this moment in
the midst of a progeny of angels."
"And that is so, my dear madam," said the cap-
tain ; " at least I am, which is enough for me. I like
that word angel, Miss Clack. The more of an angel
there is the better, I imagine ; and so an angel of
sixty ranks above an angel of twenty, eh ? "
Miss Clack laughed a dry malicious laugh.
" Lucifer was once all among the angels, I've
heard, Captain Pinchard, but Lucifer fell ; and
others may fall like Lucifer—except Captain Pinchard
—in their own esteem, which is boundless."
" Like a lady's license, Miss Clack. Do you know
Miss Foster ? "
" I haven't that pleasure," said Miss Clack, " but
I anticipate a fulfilling of it at no very distant date,
if I may believe my ears."
Miss Clack could for once believe her ears. The
wicket was opening, and the three latest guests were
arriving.
268
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
The captain, with thoughtful courtesy, assisted
Miss Spout in her reception of Miss Lydham and the
Americans. He greeted Uncle Foster like an old
acquaintance, and bent his head over Virginia's hand
with an affected solemnity that made her laugh.
And then, conducting Uncle Foster into the parlour,
he introduced him to Miss Clack.
Uncle Foster was very glad indeed that he was
dressed in his best clothes. The lady, in blue satin,
gold chains, and gold-rimmed eye-glasses, looked
a duchess ; and the simple fact that she did not rise
from her chair to greet him, but satisfied herself with
a severe inclination of the head and a twiddle at her
eye-glass with her right thumb and forefinger, con-
firmed Uncle Foster in his impression that she was
a great lady.
" Miss Clack has lived here all her life, Mr. Foster,"
said the captain by way of further introduction.
" Really! " exclaimed Uncle Foster, trying to look
as surprised as he felt that Borton had been able to keep
so superb an individual against the competition of the
world.
" All my life ! " said Miss Clack. " I thank God,
Captain Pinchard, that my life is not quite consum-
mated yet."
" I beg your pardon," continued the captain. " I
meant to convey that you had never left Borton."
"Excuse me, Captain Pinchard," the old lady
remarked, with frosty mirth on her lips. " You
know so much about me, that it is a thousand pities
you don't know more. I have resided in London for
two weeks—in fact, nearer three than two. But
if you would imply that I have never been to America,
"TEA-CUP storms and calms."
269
you are right. No, sir (bending regally towards
Uncle Foster), I have never seen your wondrous land,
and never hope to."
The least Uncle Foster could do in response to the
half sigh with which Miss Clack ended her words was to
assure her that more unlikely things happened every
day, and that, for his part, he should not be surprised
to meet her there at any time.
" Ah! " she continued, " you are a great people,
sir, but a trifle—I've heard—a trifle faulty in your
manners, if I may say so."
" Oh, but, ma'm—that same notion is as old as the
century. It's gone to seed before this. The fact is
that we've more heart than we have tongue."
"Ah!" and Miss Clack looked reprovingly at
Captain Pinchard, "a very proper, though uncom-
mon superfluity, and your young females, sir "
"My dear madam," said Uncle Foster, shaking
his head. " You mustn't say anything against them ;
for I've got one of them with me, you see ; a
daughter of my own. You must treat us kindly,
madam, if you want us to think highly of you—though,
by-the-by, perhaps it's too much to expect."
" I don't quite follow you," replied Miss Clack ;
" but I've heard that they think no more of behaving
like masculine men—men, sir, than if they were
men in reality, and not women."
" Oh, come, madam," said Uncle Foster, respect-
fully protestant.
Captain Pinchard, who looked from speaker to
speaker, like an impartial second of both parties
in a duel, nowT seemed to lose patience. He bent
towards Uncle Foster, while Miss Clack's face was
270
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
turned away, and in very low tones said to the
American :
" She's a fool, sir : give her her way."
After which disrespectful speech the captain
coughed, stooped to pick up an imaginary pin, and
then remarked that the ladies were a provokingly long
time in returning.
A buzz of voices outside seemed to respond to his
impatience, and the door opened. Even Miss Clack
rose from her chair, and agitating the folds of her dress,
shone with a splendour that dazzled the beholders.
Virginia, by force of circumstances, was now
seated by Miss Clack, who turned her chair from the
window the better to examine and talk to the
American girl.
" I've heard about you, my dear," she said.
" Yes ? " said Virginia.
" Oh, no particular harm. Don't think that; for
there are none of us perfect, dear ! " and Miss Clack
drew up her dress the least bit in the world, to show
her old-fashioned shoes with their silver buckles.
"I'm glad to know it," said Virginia.
"What, my dear! Wouldn't you like to be
perfect ? "
" Perfect! I don't mean that. No, ma'm, I guess
I wouldn't, all the same."
" Miss Foster is perfect, Miss Clack. That's why,"
said Captain Pinchard ill-advisedly ; " of course, she
wouldn't wish for a change."
"I didn't say so, sir," said Virginia, smiling
slightly. She did not resent the extravagant com-
pliment of the old fellow, for his attention in the hall
had pleased her.
" TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS."
271
" Captain Pinchard, you can go away," said Miss
Clack. " I want to talk to Miss Foster all by herself."
Virginia, immediately upon this, scanned the old
lady ; noted her wig, false teeth, and all the details
of her finery, down to the decorations of the small
feet she had thrust into view ; and did not dissemble
her surprise at thus being monopolised, as it were.
Besides, she did not feel in a good humour. She
disliked such visits as this exceedingly, and, had she
been an English young lady, she would assuredly have
had a headache, or a higher call, to enable her to
disappoint Miss Spout. What right had a stiff, over-
dressed, inquisitive old party like this Miss Clack to
send a gentleman from her vicinity, in a house where
they were both visitors, on sufferance ? She would
much rather talk to Captain Pinchard than to Miss
Clack—a moment's glance at the face of the latter
told her this much. She thought Miss Spout objec-
tionable ; but Miss Spout was gentle in her manners,
as though conscious that she could not presume to
lay siege to the affections of people, and that she was
ordinarily liked rather because she did nothing to
inspire dislike than because she had any very likeable
qualities. But this Miss Clack, with her cold eye
and imperious forehead, her long slit of a mouth
that seemed made to snarl, promised (Virginia
thought) to be completely abhorrent to her before
the evening was over.
" Oh, you musn't think that Captain Pinchard a
loss, my dear," said Miss Clack. " He's an empty-
headed man, with a love for nothing but himself."
Virginia thought that, if he had extended his love
to Miss Clack, he might be still worse off.
272
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" You' 're put about, because I sent him away, now,
ain't you? " asked the old lady, with a mocking curl of
her lip, which aroused the evil in Virginia's nature.
u And if I am, ma'm, what then ? " she asked.
" What then ? Then you acknowledge that it is
so, my dear."
" You asked me, didn't you ? "
" Yes ; but, my dear, to ask is one thing, to re-
quire an answer is another. We don't always like
our questions answered in an indelicate point blank
way in Great Britain, you must know."
" Then I wouldn't let them out, in the first place,"
said Virginia. " Have you lived here long, ma'm ? "
" Who ! Me ? Certainly I have."
" How long, I wonder? "
" Well, girl, since you ask me—I was born here,
and have resided here ever since."
" Ah ! And how long may that be altogether? "
Miss Clack felt hastily for her eye-glasses, and
having fumbled into possession of them, she saddled
her nose without the least delay, and contemplated
Virginia. Virginia was now in a sufficiently com-
bative humour to do anything in the way of contest,
verbal or even physical (within measure). She
looked at Miss Clack with her healthy, luminous,
grey-brown eyes until that lady, though aided by her
glasses, felt unable to bear the gaze any longer, and
so dropped her glasses, smiled (as only experienced
single ladies of sixty or so can smile when they wish
to be severe), and set her thumbs twiddling rapidly
in her lap. The flashing of the jewels on Miss
Clack's fingers caught Virginia's eye at once, and
diverted her attention from Miss Clack's face.
"TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 273
" I guess you've got a fortune on your Sunday toes,
ma'm," she said, nodding her head towards Miss
Clack's lap.
" Pray, what did you say, Miss—Foster, 1
think ? "
" Oh, I just remarked that, judging by appearances,
your hand was worth having. But I may be wrong,
ma'm, on second thoughts."
u Pray, what are the chief products of your con-
tinent, Miss—ah, Miss Foster, I think ? "
" Products ! Haven't you a Year-book ? Well, if
you haven't, I'll tell you. Some stupids say we grow
more pretty girls than any other country in the
world—but that I take to be untrue, ma'm. Some say
that we export a fine lot of buffaloes here to be made
into English prigs ; but that's uncivil, and I don't
think much of it either, ma'm. If you care for my
opinion, however, its just this : we send you more
pig-meat, mutton, and all that than anything else,
because there's so much of the brute remaining in
the English people, I've heard."
" Are you facetious, Miss—Foster ? "
" Hot I, ma'm. It takes two to be witty, I've
heard."
" Allow me to say that I never met a young person
of your age—and—social standing, with so cold and
stony a nature."
" Stony, ma'm ! Not at all. But I vow to you I'm
very much bored—wooden, you know, I mean. It's
he climate, I suppose."
Miss Clack rose to her feet, shivering, and in a
low, feeble voice, spoke across the room to Miss
Spout.
T
274 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" I'm going upstairs—(shiver). A very odd sen-
sation (shiver), which I cannot at all account for.
Of course everyone followed her example in rising
—everyone, except Virginia, we ought to say and
expressed the utmost sympathy with the poor lady m
her sudden indisposition. And Miss Spout, in a fever
of nervous perturbation, asked to he excused, and
hurried after the sick lady with many a "dear, oh,
dear " of sympathy and sorrow.
Uncle Foster, Miss Lydham, Captain Pinchard,
and Virginia were thus left alone. There was much
wild consternation visible in the faces of the two first.
Virginia, however, was very calm, and found employ-
ment in looking out of the window at the creepers
of the flowering honeysuckle on either side of the
window pane. Captain Pinchard sat with his legs
crossed and a wicked glamour in his eye.
" Nothing serious, I hope," remarked Miss Lydham.
" Bilious," said Uncle Foster, shaking his head.
" Fudge ! " exclaimed Captain Pinchard. " But,
there, forgive me, pray. I forgot myself. We are all
friends, here, I hope. Well, I think Miss Clack a
termagant, and that for once she has met her match
—not in the termagant way, however. Oh, no ; I
mean that the Angel Azrael has surrendered to the
Angel Gabriel, and she don't like it, Miss Foster.
I congratulate you, and honour you immeasurably."
Virginia turned round from the honeysuckle and
burst into a laugh.
"You're mighty 'cute, sir," she said; "but I
believe it's a fact that I tried to give the old lady as
good as she gave—and, perhaps, by mistake, I've
given her better."
"TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 275
" That's it, faith ! " the Captain added ! " Miss
Foster, you've done a good deed. The whole town
ought to thank you."
" I don't understand," said Miss Lydham.
"Then I, for one, won't enlighten you, my dear
Miss Lydham," remarked Captain Pinchard.
" Nor I, Cousin Constance," said Virginia.
" My dear Virginia," exclaimed Uncle Foster ;
" I'm all afog as well. What is it all about ? "
" Hush ! " said the Captain.
Miss Spout re-entered the room, smiling faintly, to
assure her guests that they need have no fear of Miss
Clack's ultimate recovery. It was a case of nervous
prostration ; and she knew from experience what that
was, though she earnestly hoped she was singular in
such knowledge. The dear invalid had had a brief
fit of hysteria, but was now stretched along Miss
Spout's best bed, getting calmer every moment.
"Did she say anything of the cause, ma'am?"
asked Uncle Foster. " Was it peas, do you think?"
Miss Spout looked like one inspired, and the reful-
gency of her salmon-coloured dress seemed to be
reproduced on her countenance.
" My dear sir," she replied ; " she did mention peas
only half-an-hour ago. They were hard, she said—
she had them from Williams's, my dear (to Miss
Lydham), and so no wonder. Oh, we may safely put
it down to peas ; and I'm that relieved, sir, to think
it's no worse, you can't conceive ! "
And, to show her relief, Miss Spout began to talk
merrily, right and left, and even to engage with
Captain Pinchard in sly jokes about the digestion of
middle-aged people and the astonishing effect of so
276
Virginia, tee American.
simple and small a thing as a pea on the human
economy.
" Oh, my dear," she said, shaking her head at Yir-
ginia, " take care of your digestion, whatever you do."
And then, infinitely to the amusement of Captain
Pinchard, the good old soul proceeded to give some
reminiscences of dire results from ill attention to
bodily needs and frailties.
" Yes, Captain Pinchard," she added, noticing the
levity in the Captain's face ; " young ladies, thank
God, are not like you sanguinary men of war, who
can cut throats and eat pigeon pie at the same time,
if need be, without so much as a qualm inside them."
"No one could be more thankful than we men
ourselves that they are not so," he replied.
Mary Anne, Miss Spout's maid, soon afterwards
rapped at the door to say that tea was ready ; and being
bidden to ask Miss Clack if she felt equal to coming
down, she said that she had already " axed " her, and
that Miss Clack wouldn't go outside the bedroom
door till the visitors had left the house.
" Oh, poor thing ! " remarked Miss Spout.
" Then please to come into tea, ladies and gentle-
men," she added ; " I'm sorry we are one short—•
but you, Mary Anne, shall take something up to
Miss Clack."
The flitting was soon accomplished. One good
step from the parlour door carried them on to the
threshold of the drawing-room, which, being a larger
apartment than the other, had been extemporised as a
dining-room. It had the further advantage of a bow
window, opening on to a strip of garden at the side
of the house, unexposed to public view. Ordinarily
"TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 277
it was but little used, being regarded by Mary Anne
as a sanctuary given up to the three or four ancestors
(the oldest but three generations back) of Miss
Spout, in gilt frames, for whom the scent of roseleaves,
from the jar in the middle of the square table, was a
kind of incense, or atmosphere, suited for their can-
vas noses. But to-day it presented a truly gay and
festive appearance. The roseleaves were in the
background ; the half-a-dozen devotional books (as
new as when they left the binders' hands, and as
presentable—save for their faded exteriors), which
usually encircled the roseleaf jar, were out of sight;
and the table, which had doubled its length with some
leaves of its own, was bespread with such luxuries as
Miss Spout's ancestors had never before seen either
in this world or the world they then inhabited,
judging by the expressions of their faces.
When the guests were properly placed, Miss Spout
asked a blessing in a very meek voice ; Mary Anne
standing behind her the while, with her mouth open,
looking at Virginia—which she continued to do, even
when the u grace " was finished, until, catching sight
of her own face in the mirror before her, she started
with horror and blushed.
Fortunately, Mary Anne's duties were light, and
she found that she was an object of far less interest
to the visitors than she had expected ; and by the
time all were served with tea, she was just enough at
her ease to want to stay and see how the foreign
people ate, and drank, and talked.
Miss Spout, however, had no notion of this. She
bade Mary Anne attend to Miss Clack's needs, and at
once to take that lady her dear love, and some of the
278
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
nicest preserve, together with best wishes for her
recovery; after which, she, Mary Anne, was to
return without fail to her kitchen.
The tea party passed off very successfully. Every-
one was in harmony with everyone else, which would
certainly not have been the case had Miss Clack been
present. Miss Spout's thinnest of jests were in-
evitably laid hold of by Captain Pinchard, and so
fattened and improved for currency, that no one
could help laughing at them ; and their first parent
was tempted to believe herself a wit lost to the world.
Uncle Foster narrated some wild tales of his youthful
goings on in Timoleonopolis, and amazed Miss Spout.
As for the original stories of Captain Pinchard (at
every one's expense save his own), they were in-
numerable and so well chosen, that, though a few of
them might have made Miss Spout begin to stir her
tea and look into her cup, if her understanding had
been at its best, none were such as to cause the
slightest deflection in the steady gaze with which
Virginia looked on him and made him happy. He
was very happy, he said ; and he assured Miss Spout
that there was but one thing that interfered with his
perfect happiness, and that was Miss Clack's indiges-
tion. But, being asked by Miss Spout, in a solemn tone,
why he laughed when he talked of their poor friend's
affliction, he only laughed the more without giving
her an answer in words.
Miss Clack, meanwhile, gave Mary Anne three
journeys with the tray into the dining-room. She
consumed so much cake, and preserves, and honey,
and bread and butter, that even Miss Spout at length
said, with a smile, that she was rejoiced to think the
"TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 279
crisis had passed. And when, tea being over, they
had all adjourned to the other room, no one was
surprised to hear a stealthy, sliding footfall outside the
door, and to see Miss Clack herself, to all appearances
convalescent.
" Yes, my dear," she said, as she walked in
solemnly, " I'jn better."
No one had had time to ask her if she were better,
but she was, no doubt, right in anticipating the query.
She declined to sit where she had sat before, averring
that her eyes could not bear the light.
It was now time for the card table to be arranged.
Miss Clack had little sympathy with cards, and could
not be asked to join in a round game, if so childish a
pastime could be tolerated. But a round game was
out of the question with such veterans in the comedy
and tragedy of life as Captain Pinchard and Uncle
Foster—not to mention Miss Spout herself. It
must be whist, or nothing. And for whist, even ex-
eluding Miss Clack, they were live instead of four.
For a moment or two Miss Spout showed the per-
plexity she felt. She would willingly have excluded
herself from the game, but, of course, Mr. Foster
would not have sanctioned that, and she acknowledged
to her heart that she should dearly love to be his
partner for an hour or two. But it was with sincere
relief that she remembered how Miss Clack herself
had asked that Virginia might be secured to her ; and
so, without the least misgiving, Miss Spout, availing
herself of a dead silence, said across the room to
Virginia :
"We are going to play whist, my dear. Which
would give you the greatest pleasure—to take a
280
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
hand at whist, or have a cosy little chat with Miss
Clack? "
" Oh, the whist, ma'am, to be sure," said Virginia,
without hesitation.
u Good gracious ! " said the Captain to himself, but
audibly to Uncle Foster, who looked up at him from
shuffling the cards with sympathetic enquiry. Miss
Spout blushed carmine colour, and vaguely hoped
that the earth would open and swallow someone,
though she did not know whom ; and Miss Lydham
sighed and looked at her feet. As for Miss Clack,
she had had her tea, and was somewhat stronger than
before. Moreover, she was in the frame of mind
when one expects everything and is surprised at
nothing. She may have bitten her lip—but there
was no blood on it to show that she had bitten it with
severity. And it was in a very quiet voice that she
begged Miss Spout not to think of her ; she could do
very well in the corner by herself.
" No," said Miss Lydham, standing up, and speaking
dramatically, " I insist on keeping you company, my
dear Miss Clack. I will take no refusal, Miss Spout."
And so, after a little polite demurring, matters
were accommodated. Miss Clack did not care for Miss
Lydham to the extent of passion ; and she did not think
herself honoured by the way in which Miss Lydham
" flung herself at her (Miss Clack's) head," as it were.
But she knew the value of appearances, even in the
minutiae of life. She and Miss Lydham, therefore,
settled themselves in the corner, by one of the sides
of the fireplace, and talked in low tones ; while the
four whist players, Captain Pinchard and Virginia
against Uncle Foster and Miss Spout, prepared for
" TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 281
battle. Miss Clack and Miss Lydham had much to
say, or, at any rate, they said much (which is not
quite the same thing), hut what they said was in-
audible to the others in spite of the profound silence
that lasted throughout the playing of each hand. The
silence, however, was always at an end when the
thirteenth trick had been gained. Captain Pinchard
then invariably fell to congratulating Virginia on her
skill, and himself on his partner ; and Uncle Foster,
in words equally sincere, though not so well chosen,
did the same good offices for Miss Spout. Even when
Virginia put her ace of trumps on her partner's king,
she having a good half-dozen of little trumps besides,
the captain looked as contented as though his reason
were at perfect peace with his heart; and at the
close of the hand, when Virginia asked him naively if
he thought she could have made better play with her
cards, he did not hesitate to equivocate, assuring her
that he never had such a delightful partner in his life.
And Uncle Foster, to whom Miss Spout was a new
species of woman, was singularly happy to have her
opposite him. By daylight he had thought her " not
so bad," save for her habit of contracting her eyes and
mouth while she spoke ; but when the candles were
lighted, and one was so placed that it cast a soft
radiance on the less defective of Miss Spout's profiles,
he ventured to hope within himself that he might
meet other ladies as comely as this whist partner of
an evening in his journeyings through the world,
and if not here, at any rate, in that hereafter which is
peopled entirely with angels. Indeed, as antagonists,
the players were so evenly matched, that it seemed
only a question of the clock who should rise winners.
282
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
If they stopped at 10.15, Miss Spout and Uncle
Foster would have the advantage; if at 10.45, the
advantage would he with Captain Pinchard and
Virginia. So, possibly to avoid all bruising of spirit,
Miss Spout contrived to have the cake and wine
brought in when both sides had won equally, and
friends and foes alike were on the best of terms with
each other.
Then, to the sipping of port and sherry, and the
crackling of biscuits, there was much pleasant,
general talk, which was none the less pleasant that
the time of yawns began to advertise itself. Captain
Pinchard thought Miss Virginia (Miss Virginia was
so much more euphonious than Miss Foster) as pretty
yawning as talking, or sitting silent; and Uncle
Foster fancied that, if Miss Spout were more taking
under one aspect than under another, it was when her
mouth was as wide open as nature would allow it
to go.
At length a ring at the door-bell was heard, and
at this signal there was a movement of departure.
Anna Maria had come to escort her mistress home.
It was time, therefore, for the gentlemen to see the
other ladies to Heather Street. Had Anna Maria
not come, of course, the captain would not have
neglected Miss Clack ; but it was absurd to think of
escorting her when she was already very sufficiently
escorted.
" My dear," said Miss Clack to Miss Spout, at the
door, and in the hearing of the whole party, " I
intend to see you to-morrow." And she said it as
though she had some very important communication
to make. She went through the form of leave-taking
"TEA-CUP STORMS AND CALMS." 283
with the gentlemen and two of the ladies in the usual
way; but to Virginia she bowed, and bowed only;
nor was it a bow implying much warmth of feeling
in her. The pity of it was, however, that Virginia
omitted to bow in return.
" Miss Virginia," said the Captain, when they were
nearing No. 19, Heather Street, " I suppose nothing
would induce you to live in England?" and he put
the question in a ridiculously tender tone of voice.
" I guess not, Captain Pinchard," she said. " But
why ? "
"Because, my dear Miss Foster, England would
very much like to have you if you did. But there,
my dear young lady, sweets are for the sweet. Good
night, and God be with you."
CHAPTER XXIX.
" come, let us take our fill of love."
A short chapter will suffice to show how Sam and
his cousin, Mary Lydham, were occupied while the
others were holding festival at Miss Spout's cottage.
" You don't want to be moping indoors, I should
hope, Mary, such an evening as this, do you ?"
asked Sam at 6.30 p.m.
"And supposing I do, Cousin Sam, without the
C * 9 9?
' mopmg.
" If you do, I guess you'll do it." And he shrugged
his shoulders, not being aware that such behaviour in
the presence of a lady is considered indecorous, as
implying unexpressed contempt for somebody in some
one or other particular.
" And, supposing I don't ? "
" Well! Then you'll go and get your hat this
instant—or, let me go, to save time."
" Sam, you go into our bedroom if you dare. I
don't know what privileges you Americans do really
allow the unhappy females who are doomed for no
fault of theirs to be your relatives ; but it seems to me
that your ladies have all the responsibilities and trials of
men, and, among other things equally important, none
of the privacy that is so very dear to women."
" Oh! Is that same privacy very dear to
women? "
" Of course it is, sir. How are we to get the
steam up (as you would say in your horridly vulgar
"come, let us take our fill of love." 285
vernacular) for facing such men as you, if we don't
have time to collect our energies ? "
" Mercy ! Then, if you were a Yankee's wife "
" Heaven keep me far from such a possibility !
But go on, Sam. I'm sorry to interrupt, only it was
such an absurd idea."
" If you were a Yankee's wife, you'd be after going
your own gait, eh ? "
"To be sure I would, and so would every honest
woman under heaven."
" Just so. Hurrah for sentiment! It rolls off a
woman's lips like butter off a roasting fowl. But are
you going for your hat ? "
" Have a little patience, sir. Impatience is another
of the weak points in you natives of Timoleonopolis.
It's a marvel to me that Uncle Foster's soul hasn't
worn through his body, with so much friction all
about him."
" That's stuff, Cousin Mary. You don't know
anything of our life in Timoleonopolis. Be quick,
there's a good cousin."
" And now that we are ready, what do you say to
where we went on Sunday, by the grain, you
know, eh ? "
" Oh, anywhere you please. You are our guests,
so we must do all we can for you."
" Ah ! you must, must you ? Cousin Mary, that
went to my heart like a red-hot poker."
" Bed-hot poker ! You might be a lad of ten,
Cousin Sam, after a first pantomime. Fancy a man
of your mature years talking of hearts and red-hot
pokers in a breath."
"Well, anyway, you needn't make such faces,
286
"VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
Cousin Mary. Those three gowks in drab look at me
as if I were a leper or something."
This time when they reached the stile between the
two expanses of pasture land they were the only
human beings in sight. A few placid cows were
munching grass to their hearts' and stomachs' satis-
faction, flipping the flies from their bodies as if for
exercise or pastime, rather than because they felt
any annoyance. The hills in front of them were clear
and beautiful, though as yet they had not put on
their evening mantle of purple which so well became
them.
" Would you rather stand than sit, Cousin Mary?"
asked Sam. " And would you rather face the cows,
or have your back to them ? "
" First of all, Cousin Sam, I would rather stand
than sit, and would rather not stand here over long, if
it please you. And secondly, I mind cows as little
as I mind men, because I think there is a large
element of the bully iii men and cows alike, which
only wants facing to be overcome."
" I say, Mary, if you can say such good things as
that, you could write good things too, couldn't you?"
" You are very rude, sir, intentionally or not.
You imply that I have never yet written anything
that was worth writing."
"Yes ; but I mean you could write a leading
article, as you call the things, like Virginia,
perhaps."
" Thank you, Cousin Sam; but I should think
that one lady journalist in the family would be
enough."
" In the family ! Oh, Jerusalem, Cousin Mary!
"COME, LET US TAKE OUR FILL OF LOVE." 287
My heart has got some spasms in it. Do just
oblige me by sitting down on the top bar for a
moment."
" Anything to help yon to relieve your heart," said
Mary, stepping towards the stile, smiling; and,
sitting down for a moment, she turned to look at the
hills in the distance. When she again looked before
her, Sam was on his knees.
" Cousin Mary," he began, in a voice that actually
seemed to tremble as he looked earnestly in her
face
" Oh, for goodness' sake, Cousin Sam — your
trousers! "
" Darn my trousers for once, Cousin Mary," said
he, frowning. " And do just sit still, please." Then
sinking his voice again, he continued : " Cousin
Mary, I guess I'm not as good a man as I might be
(she nodded acquiescence) ; and I guess you couldn't
be much better than you are if you tried (' no, no,'
said her head, though her tongue was silent) ; but if
you will only mate your—your perfection with my
imperfection, I guess together we'd make a good pair
of ordinary men and women. Could you like me
well enough for that, Cousin Mary ? "
" Do take care of your knees, Sam. There ! don't
be noisy. Is it a declaration of love you mean to
make!"
" Well, I'm blest ! I thought I was plain enough,
Cousin Mary; but since I'm not, I will take care
there's no mistake this time. Mary Lydham—I,
Samuel Johnson Foster, am so deadly fond of you,
that I would do anything in the universe if only I
might call you Mrs. Samuel J. Foster. Now, Mary
288
Virginia, the American.
you've got it." And he put his hands behind his
back and hung his head.
"Yes. Well, jump up, Sam; and let us walk
home slowly while we talk this little matter over."
" What ! Little matter ! And don't it fidget you
more than that, Mary ? Why, I've been eight-and-
forty hours thinking how I could best get on my
knees and get up afterwards ; and here you treat it
as a walking matter after all."
" So it is, dear, if we are to walk through the
valley of life together."
All in the space of a second of time the American
stared, started, and stumbled forward. And then,
even as a young man about to leave home for a
distant land might fall on his mother's neck, so did
Sam fall upon Mary, and kiss her—she (having subtly
taken in the horizon at a glance) resisting not at all.
" I know I'm not much better than a savage in a
white skin," he added, "with a fair share of mother
wit ; hut with you for wife, Mary, I reckon I'll be as
polished as the best of your English men before a
year has gone by."
" Sam," said Mary, speaking slowly and almost
solemnly ; " do you know I don't so much care for
what you think so highly of? This same polish can
be put on, you know, as well as wrorn off; and don't
think I look forward to you in a state of polish, for I
don't."
They walked home arm-in-arm, and, as Mary
Lydham said to her cousin, we may say of the
continuation of their walk, and the way in which
they passed the evening until the others returned
——" never mind the rest."
CHAPTER XXX.
" faire eyes, sweet lips, deare heart."
Wednesday was a fine breezy day, with a mottled
sky, in which blue prevailed over white.
The Borton policeman was the first in the town to
perceive that something more than ordinary was
about to render the day mildly remarkable. He
observed that the oven chimney of Mrs. Marshall, the
pastry-cook, was smoking at daybreak; and, under
the influence of a spasm of duty, he moved towards
the shop, half-drawing his truncheon as he walked.
It might be a burglary—the rascals having set fire
to the house, after looting it. Or it might be a fire
of another kind—with the " onus" on him of
rescuing Mrs. Marshall in her nightgown, and
Mrs. Marshall's maid, Patty—as sweet a little morsel
as any of her mistress's cakes and tarts—in her
nightgown, the bare thought of which made the
Borton policeman go hot and cold in quick succession.
His suspicions were alarmingly strengthened when
he saw a ray of firelight in the lower regions of the
house, where much of the pastry and confectionery
were compounded. And if he trembled, it was only
natural. He was getting an old man, and had never
yet encountered in Borton crime of more formidable
status than drunkenness and swearing—both, in his
opinion, mild, not to say very tolerable forms of vice.
He was an honest man, owing his first duty to his
wife and children ; and so he stooped until his head
u
290
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
was close to the bars of the kitchen grating—and
whistled. If they were thieves, they would hear him,
and make off before the police could arrive, thereby
sparing him the execution of a very painful, and
perhaps hazardous, public duty.
But, hey presto ! all fears of burglary and mingled
hopes and fears of fires and Patty in her nightgown;
for, in response to the whistle, came, from the depths,
the musical voice of Patty herself, and with her voice
the rich savour of many incredible delicacies ; and
the Borton policeman, not without a gulp of relief,
retired, after a kindly " good morning," to think over
the possibilities begotten of his fancy.
Yes, Lord Lumsey had ordered every delicacy that
Mrs. Marshall could make at twenty-four hours'
notice; and such good things as were best fresh were
to be made very early on the Wednesday morning.
Hence the lights and activity in the shop at daybreak.
At 9.30, however, Borton was like to know more
about the matter. For then, with a clatter and a
rattle, and a jingling that silenced all the blacksmith's
noises, Lord Lumsey drove up with his four-in-
hand, as smart as if it were prepared for Piccadilly ;
up the street, and yet not the length of the street,
for at the Heather Street corner, all of a sudden, his
lordship turned, drove to No. 19 of the street, and
stopped.
There ! the mystery was out. His lordship had a
little boy, and the Misses Lydham were to teach
him. But wiser Borton shrugged its shoulders and
went into ecstasies of delight when it saw Martha
help up the American lady to sit by Lord Lumsey
on the box, and then help up the other two ladies
"faire eyes, sweet lips, deare heart." 291
to sit more behind with the two gentlemen of
the house to talk to ; was ever anyone more ably
prophetic than wiser Borton on such thin materials
for prescience ? they asked.
It had been determined by Virginia herself, and
agreed to by the others, except Sam, that if Lord
Lumsey asked Virginia to sit by him on the box, she
should do so. She wanted some pure English air ;
and when is English air more bracing than when met
full in the face on the top of a coach drawn by four
thoroughbred horses at a spanking rate ?
And so, in her pink dress, with pink ribbons flying
about her hair from the wide-brimmed straw hat
which threw so rich a shadow over her face, her
hands resting on her parasol, which she would not
open, judging herself to be quite sufficiently protected
by her hat, Virginia sat, with lips slightly parted, a
warm little blush of colour in both her cheeks, and
oh, such a happy, becoming light in her brown-grey
eyes.
" Miss Foster," said his lordship, stooping to see
all he could under the abominable wide-brimmed hat,
" you look charming."
" Do I, your lordship ? " she replied. 111 guess it's
the weather."
" I don't believe it," he replied ; and lowering his
voice as he gathered the reins tightly, and bent so as
to get into the range of her eyes under her hat,
he added—" No, Miss Foster; if the weather's
charming, it's because you charm the weather, not
t'other way." And off went the horses—a sight for
Heather Street to talk about while tongues and
memories shall drive well in harness together.
292 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
The two curates had accepted Lord Lumsey's in-
vitation to the picnic; but they intended to walk
over to Lumsey an hour or two after the coach had
started. Lord Lumsey thought they might just as
well have let it alone ; he did not fancy their coming
into the park at a time when he hoped to be most
enjoying himself. Yet it was a great thing, un-
questionably, to have this fair American girl seated
by him on the box of his own coach, and no one
within hearing of him except herself. Sam was
partially reconciled to his lordship by his own situa-
tion with Mary, which same situation had already
been accepted by Miss Lydham, with many tears on
her pillow, as she thought of the future; by Uncle
Foster, as one of the darling hopes of a lifetime—a
lifetime of just a week's duration, if Uncle Foster
had stuck to truth ; and. by Virginia, with wondering
eyes and silence.
" What do you wear that awful hat for, Miss
Foster ? " asked his lordship, when they were in the
lanes. Why not take it off and put up your
gingham ? "
" Thank you," said Virginia ; " but I like it ; my
gingham's a parasol, and parasols don't keep off colds
in the head."
u Oh, indeed ! " sighed his lordship, whipping the
right leader. " I wish I were a cold. I know where
I'd put up for a stay."
" If you were, your lordship, and you troubled me,
I should try and get rid of you very soon."
" Thank you, Miss Foster," he said. " That means
to say that, as I'm not that cold, you wouldn't wish
o just so, eh ? "
4< HA IRE EYES, SWEET LlPS, DEARE HEART." 203
" As you say, my lord. But, Lord Lumsey "—■—
" Yes, Miss Foster."
" Why don't you sit in the House of Lords ? "
" Oh ! " and his lordship laughed. " Because I
like better to sit on the box of my drag—when you
are by my side."
" Are you a flirt, Lord Lumsey ? "
" Oh, I say, Miss Foster, you come it strong.
What a question to ask, too ! As if men were flirts !"
" Well, I think some are. It must be a fine thing
to be a British lord."
" Oh, no, quite a mistake. A lord is nothing in
society to a lord's wife."
" How, really, Lord Lumsey, is that a fact ? And
she's a duchess, isn't she ? "
" She's a countess, Miss Foster, and it's true as
steel."
" Then why don't you make someone a duchess—
no, countess, ain't it ? You'd be of some use to your
nation then."
" Miss Foster," said his lordship, slowly, and,
stooping, he feigned to be attending to something at
their feet, though he did this in order to look straight
up in his companion's face. They were in a narrow,
ascending lane, with high elms on both sides of it.
He let the horses walk up the hill—it was more con-
venient. " Miss Foster—I say—I've been about the
world a bit—and I don't care a rush, not a rush, for
our English girls—all I've seen. But, Miss Foster,
if you will be my countess, I will make you happy ! "
One of the leaders sfumbled, and in an instant his
lordship was sitting bolt upright. The animal could
not have chosen the time better, for his lordship had
294
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
said all the words that his heart had telegraphed to
his tongue, and an ugly pause was likely to have
followed.
" Don't go imperilling our lives with your chatter,
Virginia," cried Uncle Foster. " She's an awful
chatter-box, Lord Lumsey, ain't she, now ? "
"Well, my dear sir," and Lord Lumsey turned
round smiling and courteous, " on my honour, not
too much so. What do you say, Miss Foster, your-
self? Yes, or no?"
No one of the party understood the quaver in his
lordship's voice as he put the question save herself.
In answer to him, she half turned towards her rela-
tives, and with her hat tilted, so that her fair face
was enshrined in the pink circumference like a pearl
in the shell of its nativity, she said, very quietly:
" I guess Lord Lumsey's fond of strange tongues
as well as strange places, and," sitting square, and
speaking for him alone, " new faces also, my lord."
" Say yes, Miss Foster, and take pity on a poor
fellow," said he, speaking as seriously as softly, and
gripping the reins.
" And if I take pity on a poor fellow, and say
' No,' Lord Lumsey ? "
" If you do, I hope I'm not that poor fellow. But
put me out of my pain, Miss Foster, do."
"I can't marry you, Lord Lumsey," said Virginia,
and she drew her handkerchief from her pocket and
put it to her face.
For a moment Lord Lumsey hoped that she was
crying—that she had some tyrannical bond upon her
which forbade her to obey the dictates of her heart,
but which was not insurmountable ; that she felt for
"faire eyes, sweet lips, deare heart." 295
him all the affection he assured himself he felt for her.
But his happiness was only momentary, for, alas ! she
did hut make use of the handkerchief in the ordinary
way.
It was too had, and Lord Lumsey whipped the
horses for the remainder of the ascent, until the
leaders threw flakes of foam about the road, and on
the hedges, and curvetted whenever they could get a
chance. The entrance to the park was near at hand,
and they were soon galloping up the broad road
towards the stately house in front of them.
" And I might have been the mistress—the countess
of this place," thought Virginia ; and she were 110
true woman if she felt no pride at the thought.
" What's the matter with them cattle ?" asked
Uncle Foster, when they were half way up the drive,
and every one except Virginia was marvelling why
Lord Lumsey did not cease lashing at his horses and
inciting them to quicken a pace that was already
dangerously quick.
"You'll have me off if you don't slow a bit,"
echoed Sam, who had been lurched once or twice in
a way that sent the frowns to his forehead.
But to neither of them did Lord Lumsey vouchsafe
a word.
When, at length, he pulled up before the massive
portico, the horses panting and quivering, and send-
ing up a hot steam into the air, Lord Lumsey pitched
the reins at one of the men who stood ready to receive
the party, and was down on the ground in an instant.
A moment later, and he was offering his hand to
Virginia as she stood, with a piquant expression of
uncertainty on her face.
296
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Oh, Miss Foster ! " he said, Avhen he had her on
the last step before reaching the ground ; and he
spoke from a lower level than herself, so that his
words went direct to her as they looked into each
other's faces. He held her hand, which for some
reason was ungloved, so that she could not step
forward very well, and was obliged to put pressure
upon the hand that supported her, and seemed to be
awaiting a reply from her.
But " Oh, Lord Lumsey ! " was all the American
girl said to him, looking straight into his eyes until
she found that her feet needed her attention.
Lord Lumsey bit his lips, smiled resignedly and
courteously, hut briskly, disengaged his hand from
Virginia's, and made off towards the horses without
catching the almost inaudible " I'm right down
obliged to you for the compliment you've paid me,"
which Virginia had whispered when she was firmly
set upon the ground.
" I'm not quite positive that's a young man to be
relied upon," muttered Mr. Foster to his nieces,
nodding towards Lord Lumsey at the horses' heads.
" I declare I wouldn't swear he hasn't put my heart
out of order with his mad scampering."
" He couldn't ours, eh, Mary ? " suggested Samuel
Johnson Foster, with a rather immodest chuckle,
accompanied by a wink ; but Mary severely bade him
speak for himself only.
" Virginny, did you notice anything out of the
common in his lordship while you were along of him,
eh ?" questioned her father, when she had joined
them, silently.
" For two reasons, pa, I ain't in a position to speak
" FAlRE EYES, SWEET LIPS, DEARE HEART." 297
as to that; first, my knowledge of Lord Lumsey is a
hit restricted, when yon consider ; and, secondly, I
hadn't much chance of a diagnose, once we began to
go. Anyhow, I guess Lord Lumsey's pretty well."
u That's more than I can say of my heart, I do
believe," said Uncle Foster, turning to his elder
niece with such a comical appeal for sympathy, that
Constance Lydham smiled at him.
" Really, pa," said Virginia, looking anxious.
" No, no, love. I'm all right. I was only joking,"
and Uncle Foster laughed and shook himself.
" I guess there's a good deal of talk about hearts
which is nothing in the world but windy nonsense,
Cousin Constance," remarked Virginia, reflectively,
as one might propound a new axiom.
" Windy nonsense ! Good gracious, Virginia, I
never heard of such a thing. Believe me, my dear,
we do wrong not to accept thankfully what happiness
Providence provides for us—so we are sure it is
meant really for us." This from Constance Lydham$
dogmatically.
CHAPTER XXXI.
"try, try, try again."
Lumsey Cleft, the place designed for the picnic,
was three miles or so from the Hall. But as the
walk was not reckoned a fatiguing one, and Uncle
Foster assured Lord Lumsey he was dying to use his
legs, it was arranged that they should go thither on
foot after a brief rest.
Again, therefore, the Americans found themselves
in a stately apartment of the Hall. And no sooner
had his lordship left the room for some purpose, than
Sam, beaming with satisfaction, began indicating to
Mary certain articles of his lordship's furniture which
he thought pretty, and hoped might he not as costly
as they were pretty. And in reply, Mary first smiled,
and then pouted to signify that he ought not
to he estimating the beauty and value of what did not
belong to him, and was never likely to belong to him.
No one of the party was disposed to spend much
time in the mansion of the Lumseys. With all its
magnificence, it had a depressing effect on their
spirits. Men and women seemed such insignificant
individuals inside the mighty fabric, that they might
well he excused losing some of their self-esteem, and
therefore some of the power of pleasing themselves
and each other which accompanies moderate and
immoderate self-esteem alike. The very room they
were in was so immense that the beam of sunlight
which streamed across one corner of it had a frosty
"TRY, try, try again."
299
appearance, though it was June ; and the thick walls
seemed built to keep out Nature for the profit of Art.
So, when they had sat on high-backed chairs,
exquisitely carved and as exquisitely uncomfortable,
for a quarter of an hour, by which time Uncle
Foster had drunk as much wine as he felt was good
for him (none of the others taking any), everyone
rose with alacrity on Lord Lumsey proposing that
they should begin the walk.
Poor Lord Lumsey ! How he had looked forward
to this walk ! Had he not been so eager on the box
of the coach, he might at least have prolonged his
delusion ; and there is a good fund of pleasure, if
not of genuine happiness, in certain delusions, if these
be treated considerately, and the subject of them
preserve a judicious control over them. But now the
charm of the walk was gone for him. He sincerely
wished his Lumsey Cleft would sink out of sight, so
that he were forewarned of the catastrophe and saved
the walk thither ; or that it would rain, and he then
have an excuse for bundling his guests into the coach,
and driving them back to Borton. And wouldn't he
whip the horses again, the rascals ; it was no doubt
entirely their fault that events had been unpropitious
for him !
But Lord Lumsey was a gentleman by birth ; and
gentlemen by birth, though very often most un-
gentlemanly in conduct, have a knack of overlooking
their own ungentlemanliness in a way quite incom-
prehensible to those less fortunate individuals who
have had plebeian parents, and are, in the world's
recognition, gentlemen only on sufferance, or on the
precarious social basis of conquest; these latter, when
300
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
they have made a palpable slip, are often on thorns
for months afterwards. Not that Lord Lumsey had
done anything very nngentlemanly, as we under-
stand the adjective. Only, he was rather inclined to
be sulky, and that, of course, was wrong in him. But
he showed some of the best Lumsey spirit when he
resolved to try and forget the little scene on the
coach, remembering only his guests and his duties
towards them.
So he set to work with enthusiasm—or what
externally seemed to be enthusiasm. He pointed out
the historical oak trees, told their measurements and
the legends which had grown up with them; the
Druid stones in the middle of the park, said to have
been deluged with the blood of human sacrifices
centuries ago, and now, alas ! degraded into a con-
venience for chopping mangolds and other roots for
the sheep in winter ,• the Grecian summer houses on
the islands in the artificial ponds, erected by Lord
Schomberg Lumsey, who was the bosom friend of Sir
William Temple, and had seen the palace of Loo ; the
Holy Martyr Well, where a spring of pure water had
its source, which, if the tale of Sir Somebody's cruel
murder of a fair christian maid on that very spot
were true, ought to have been red blood instead ; he
showed them everything, and talked incessantly, so
that soon he won Sam's better opinion, and set that
well-intentioned but foolish young man thinking
how he could make it up with his lordship, and
declare his sorrow that ever he had thought ill of
him.
" My dear Sam," whispered Mary Lydham to her
lover, " I hope you are cleverer at discerning the
"try, try, try again."
301
nature of other men than you have been with Lord
Lumsey. I think him delightful."
" And so do I," said Sam, ." Now."
At which Mary laughed lightly, bethinking her-
self that love is surely the great magician of life ; and
in the benevolence of soul begotten of her own hap'pi-
ness, she wished that everyone, then and thencefor-
ward, might have something, a somebody to love, so
that the world might be for ever and ever seen
through windows of rose-coloured glass.
As for Uncle Foster, he .was rather surprised to
observe how little talk there was between Lord Lum-
sey and Virginia. He thought it was a case of
" hand in hand on a daisy bank " with the pair of
them; and he said as much to Constance Lydham.
Hot that he had any idea of a serious entanglement
of heart between his daughter and the nobleman.
But, a democrat of a democratic nation, he was inter-
ested in Lord Lumsey somewhat as a virtuoso with a
well-stocked cabinet might be interested in a beauti-
ful but cracked piece of ware in another cabinet
inferior to his own ; and in spite of the illogicalism,
he felt that he would be raised in his own esteem if
his daughter could fascinate the British nobleman.
Fascinate only, that is. Anything beyond admira-
tion in the superlative degree he did not desire for her.
But such admiration, if she could excite it, would
have given him a very keen semi-interested pleasure.
u Yes," said Miss Lydham, smiling a smile of
amused wisdom. " You don't read hearts as well as
you thought you did, uncle. It isn't likely he would
care for Virginia in the way you the way she, I
mean, seemed to expect."
302
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
"Tut! tut! my love," said the old man with a
well-feigned surprise. " I don't understand you. I
never thought of such a thing."
" No, of course not," dear uncle. " Our young
noblemen are very gay fellows as a rule, and like new
faces—or pretend to, it's all the same thing with them
—almost as much as pretty ones."
"Hey!" XJncle Foster replied, with a smile of
compliment towards his niece. " Then that's why he
don't take so much notice of you, my dear. It
puzzled me at first, I must say."
" Ah, uncle ! " said Constance, looking at him with
happy eyes. "When one is appreciated for one's
worth, one can afford to be ugly."
" Why, certainly, my dear," added the old man.
" No one would question the truth of that maxim.
But Virginia, love (calling to his daughter, who was
walking by herself), just run on to his lordship in
front; he's talking to that man, but never mind, and
ask him if it's very far, because I'd like a rest if it
is."
For one moment Virginia looked rebellious, then
she did as her father bade her. She quickened her
pace till she reached Lord Lumsey, then touched him
on the sleeve daintily, and gave him her father's
message, speaking so gently and sweetly, that his
lordship's heart began to riot anew within him.
" It's only a few hundred paces," he said, repeat-
ing the words out loud for Uncle Foster's benefit.
" Don't go, Miss Foster," he added entreatingly.
'" Let us talk and be friends, do." At the same time
he motioned the man to leave them.
" I hope we are friends, Lord Lumsey," said
"try, try, try again."
303
Virginia quietly. " It's what I would like. You are
much better than I am, Lord Lumsey, I can see."
" Oh, don't, Miss Foster," muttered Lord Lumsey,
tugging viciously at one end of his moustache with
his right hand, and, in his impetuosity, stamping on
the ground like an angry stag.
" There's nothing in me, Lord Lumsey, nothing at
all. You don't know what a mere bladder I am.
And you are a different sample out of the tub of
humanity from what I have been accustomed to. I
reckon it's not all poetry they say about blood and
breeding."
Virginia said this in a calm matter-of-fact way that
made Lord Lumsey look aside at her curiously.
" It's all nonsense, Miss Foster, that sort of twaddle
about rank. It comes down to us with our jewels
and pictures, and it's a pity, like them, it can't fetch
a price at auction. I wouldn't give a penny piece to
be born on a throne," said Lord Lumsey warmly.
" I guess that would be a matter of thorns for your
mamma if you were," remarked Virginia, looking
dreamily before her.
Lord Lumsey laughed shortly, as though he could
not help it. But he speedily suppressed his laughter,
and speaking under strong self-control, said :
" Do you know, Miss Foster, I was very near
thinking you were an ordinary, common-place girl,
like our own, you know. I should have made a
monstrous mistake, though ! "
" Ah ! " said Virginia, suddenly brightening.
" How is that, Lord Lumsey ? Don't you visit
much ?''
" Oh ! faith, yes. The Lord keep me from doing
304
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
it any more. And I did hope—from my very vitals
I hoped it, Mjss Foster—that you weren't brought
into these parts for nothing. Now tell me, seriously
as ever you spoke in your life, Miss Foster, can't I do
anything to make you fasten your eyes on me ? I
swear if I can, I'll do it, and that before and after I'll
be just the same to you, and do every blessed thing in
the world to make you happy. A hundred thousand,
a year goes a long way with some girls, and it would
be for the lawyers to join, I mean marry me, as a
general thing. But you are different, Miss Foster,
and I don't put it upon the cash at all. Still, if that
can do anything in the matter, Miss Foster, it's all
at your fingers' end^* from this moment, if you'll only
let a poor chap, who wants looking after and likes
you into fits, go along, with it. There ! Miss Foster;
I've never had a turn like that before. It's as
genuine as the Bible."
Lord Lumsey had, indeed, never been more earnest
in his life. . He realised that this was so, and no
sooner had he got to the end of his pretty long tether,
than he felt half ashamed of his eloquence. He had
spoken without pre-consideration, and it might be—
nay, it probably was the truth, that he had made a
thorough ass of himself with his sentimentalism.
Why not neutralise the effect of such ding-dong trash
as his tongue could not help but have uttered just
now by half-a-dozen words of good, sound, substantial
assertion, that should be incapable of the least
ambiguity of meaning ?
"Miss Foster, I worship you," accordingly whis-
pered his lordship, in a hollow tone of determination.
" Do marry me ! " he added, yet more sepulchrally.
"try, try, try again."
305
" Fm not fit for you, Lord Lumsey," was Virginia's
reply, after a few seconds of silence ; " and, besides,
there's another reason. But I don't know when I
felt more grateful to anyone than I do to you."
" Grateful! Bah ! " muttered Lord Lumsey, im
audibly. "Is it really a packed and sealed case of
' No,' Miss Foster?" he asked. And again they
interchanged looks.
" It is, Lord Lumsey," said the girl • " but I shall
often think of you."
" Ah, dear me ! " sighed his lordship. " It's a
world for poor devils like me to suffer disappoint-
ment in. But shake hands, Miss Foster, if you
please ; and we'll be good chums for a day, at any
rate."
So saying, he held his right hand towards Virginia,
who, without hesitation, gave him her own hand.
Lord Lumsey smiled, as a soldier might smile from
the rear of the enemy's guns ; the hazard was over.
And then, pulling himself briskly together, his lord-
ship made up his mind to enjoy the American girl's
presence for that one day of his life.
Virginia, on her side, after one keen glance from
her lightsome grey eyes at the face of Lord Lumsey,
confessed to herself that she liked Lord Lumsey as a
lord very much, and that, for all the suddenness of
the attachment, it was more than possible she could
have loved him as a man if .
X
CHAPTER XXXII.
"my passion is thy scorn."
If ! But " ifs " and " buts " are all-powerful; and
the "if" in this case was an insurmountable obstacle.
They soon came to a charming little grassy de-
pression, overshadowed by big hawthorns, still full of
scent and blossom. And in the hollow, they saw
men-servants and maid-servants raising what seemed
to be an altar. But it was no sacrifice to a heathen
Proserpine that was in preparation. There were
chairs, and hampers, and linen, and glass, and silver;
and there were bottles of divers shapes and dishes.
" By George! What a spot! " said Sam to
Mary.
" To tell you the truth, Sam," was her reply—" I'd
rather do without the waiters and the table. It's too
— too human, you know."
" Oh, rubbish! " said he. " It saves a lot of
trouble, and I guess that's what servants are good
for here. Besides, who likes sitting on cold grass,
full of ants, and worms, and spiders, and colds."
A cry from Miss Lydham drew the attention of
the others towards her. " Why, they're here before
us," she exclaimed, pointing in the direction of some
rocks, the outlying fragments of the Cleft. Thence
the two curates were seen approaching them.
"We came the short cut, my lord," said Mr.
Warmington, " and by starting a few minutes after
you, have got here first."
"my passion is thy Scorn.'*
307
" Oh! I call you uncivil," said Lord Lumsey, with
a smile that belied his words. "You wanted to
shirk the ride, afraid of sea-sickness, perhaps, and so
—and so you equivocate. I suppose you looked to
yourselves for absolution."
" Hush! my dear lord," protested Warmington,
raising his hand and smiling rebukefully.
" My dear Will," said Miss Lydham, stepping
quickly before the others, to greet the younger curate,
with the air of one about to claim something to which
she had a right, " How very delightful! "
" Yes, isn't it ? " was the young man's reply, when
he had shaken hands with her—not over effusively,
she thought. " What a very nice day it has turned
out; and where is Miss Foster ? I don't see her."
" I will introduce you all in good time, dear."
" No introduction necessary, thank you. Let me
go and find her.''
" Oh, Will! as if you need just yet ! But if
your curiosity is uncontroleable, I've no doubt you'll
find her behind Lord Lumsey somewhere. They
have been flirting dreadfully all the way," and Miss
Lydham laughed encouragingly at her lover.
But Mr. Cathcart was shocked, inexpressibly.
" You don't say so." And by his voice and atti-
tude, one would have imagined that "to flirt" was to
commit one of the seven cardinal sins.
" Oh ! there's nothing very wrong about it, Will,
you know," said Miss Lydham. " At least, there
wouldn't be if it had justification, like "
But Mr. Cathcart found himself imperatively
called upon to shake hands with Lord Lumsey, Uncle
Foster, Miss Mary Lydham, Samuel Foster (who
SOS
Virginia, the American,
took it grinningly), and Miss Foster ; he did Got
scruple to leave Miss Lydham before her sentence
was finished.
"Oh! Miss Foster," he said to Virginia, with a
tender little start, as he streamed his large eyes upon
her. " I took you for a deer—you are such a pretty
fawn colour in the shade—you are, indeed."
" If I am a deer," she retorted, lightly, after a
quick survey of his face, " I guess I've got some
horns. Do they ever use their horns ? these tame
creatures, I mean. Mr. Mr. Oh! I say, I've
forgotten your name."
" Cathcart," said the curate, and his jaw dropped
perceptibly. " Yes, they fight bravely at times."
" You don't say so, now," remarked the girl,
yawning deliciously.
" And you've no idea how tired I am, Miss Foster—
or rather was ; for the sight of you is so thoroughly
refreshing. You are so cool, you know—in appear-
ance—in pink.''
" Yes. And how's the pup, Mr. Cathcart ? "
"As happy as can be, Miss Foster," replied the
curate, with enthusiasm. " He gets into all manner of
mischief, and breaks no end of things ; but we like
him all the better for it. He resembles a child that
one loves for the sake of his mother, as it were, you
know eh, Miss Foster? "
Virginia had laughed, laughed boisterously indeed,
so that the eyes of the others were immediately
directed towards her and the curate. Miss Lydham
advanced a step or two nearer to them, remarking an
expressive nod towards them on the part of her
cousin, Samuel Johnson, for the benefit of Mary.
"MY PASSION IS THY SCORN."
309
" It's so rum to draw legitimate conclusions from
your inferences, sir," explained Virginia to Mr.
Cathcart, still smiling, though, nonchalantly. " A
body might suppose I was a connection of the little
animal. But I'm glad it's well. I think I'll ask
Lord Lumsey to take it into his establishment. He
has heaps of room, and you haven't, you see."
" Miss Foster," said the young man melo-
dramatically, " if you take that doggy from us, you
will be breaking a heart or two. I'll answer for
mine, and, in a lesser degree, very much so, in fact,
for Mr. Warmington's."
" Oh! well," rejoined the girl, with a glance over-
head to see why the sun was clouded, "if a dog
can satisfy your heart, Mr. Cathcart, you're welcome
to him, and I wish I could be the salvation of a
few score more as cheaply. Cousin Constance!
Cousin Constance! hear what Mr. Cathcart has just
been saying."
" Yes, dear ? " questioned Miss Lydham, joining
them, and not very pleased. " What is it ? " and she
turned from one to the other.
" Why, he says that if we take the little dog I
picked up, you know—if we take it from him—his—
his heart will be broken. Fancy ! Pity it can't be
somewhere by itself, out of harm's way."
" That was very eccentric of him, dear," observed
Miss Lydham, with an effort of humour. Then,
addressing Mr. Cathcart, seriously, " Did you say
that ? I can hardly believe you would be so foolish."
"Yes—why not?" replied the young man,
hesitatingly, " It's a most interesting little creature."
" And they call him Virginia—that's me," said the
310
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
American girl, laughing again, as she moved away,
leaving the lovers together.
But u lovers" they could scarcely be called any
longer. Anger, commonplace, secular anger, as well as
his humiliation, preyed upon the soul of the curate,
and he had not the slightest desire to dissimulate
his feelings now. Until a few hours ago he was not
sure but that he could in time like Constance Lydham
as well as most men, he supposed, like their wives.
There was much that he approved in her; and she had
for him an affection that he could no more doubt than
understand. Just the kind of woman whose virtues
would last her lifetime, and whose conscience would
supersede her heart as the prime force in her life if
she should have a changed opinion of him sooner or
later after marriage. Eminently a young woman
with qualities of the staying kind.
This vision was now as absolutely passed as a dream.
Mr. Cathcart saw only in the woman whose clouded
face looked so reproachfully at him a personality that
had interfered with his pleasure, with his very liberty
of thought, utterance, and action, and interfered most
unwarrantably. He would have resented such
conduct in anyone, he assured himself ; but it was
wholly intolerable that he should suppose himself to
be under the obligation to submit to black looks and
tacit reprehension into the bargain. He was not
aware that he was in leading strings, and he would
not be dictated to by anyone on such a situation as
the present. In truth, ho had something to do to
persuade his legs that it were better not to run after
Miss Foster at that moment.
But one thing was very clear to him, it was
"my passion is thy scorn."
» • -
311
necessary to come to an understanding with Miss
Lydham. A teacher of little boys and girls might be
a very considerable personage in the esteem of the
little boys and girls; she was not so, however, in the
esteem of the junior curate of Borton. She had
forfeited his opinion as a worthy, agreeable woman ;
it was therefore impossible that they should be as
intimate in the future as they had been. How they
had become so, he could not conceive. The fact that
they had drifted into remarkable intimacy was all he
could grapple, and that this intimacy should come
to an end, was all he could then determine.
Constance Lydham, on her side, was much less
decisive in her thoughts. She was, in common
parlance, "put about " by the levity of speech in the
curate, and by his preference of Virginia's society to
hers. She was also harassed by vague fancies which
might at any moment gain substantiality enough to
distress her incalculably. But, though disturbed,
she was hopeful. Indeed, ought not her lover to see
in her innocent little parody of the passion of jealousy
the sign manual of her heart's affection for him, and
discerning, ought he not to feel complimented ? She
could not help it if she showed more in her eyes than
she felt within her ; and surely he would understand
her sufficiently to appreciate the little loverly tiff at
just its proper value, and no more.
" To the Cleft," shouted his lordship, for all his
guests to hear him, and everyone moved forward
negligently towards the rocks.
A little scrambling had to be done, and as they
climbed, the noise of falling water could be heard
more and more distinctly ; then they had to walk for
312
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
about fifty yards among small mossy boulders and
heather, and then they stopped, for a chasm lay
between them and all further progress in that
direction. The chasm was the Lumsey Cleft. It
was some fifteen feet wide at the summit, and eighty
or ninety in depth ; and from an opening in the rock,
about fifty feet down, there poured a body of water,
forming a noisy cascade until it reached the base of
the ravine, where it became a brawling, tumbling
stream, hurrying towards some far-off destiny.
A most charming spot on a hot June day ! For
there were trees at hand to thrust their green canopy
between mortals and the sun ; and the cool air of the
crevice, stirred by the falling waters, was as restora-
tive in its way as a glass of sparkling champagne.
Miss Lydham and the curate had followed the
others towards the Cleft in-silence. The silence was
portentous, and was felt to be so by both of them.
They looked at the rocks, and the ferns growing in
the cracks and the crannies of the rocks, and listened
to the splashing of the water for a minute or two.
Then Miss Lydham, half-plaintively, urged the
curate to go 011 with her a little way from the others.
They were out of hearing when she said to him,
quietly, for all her increasing anxiety, " I think you
are unkind to me, Will."
"I don't see it," said the curate, with a burst of
breath, and in a tone that indicated what passions
were like to have the upper hand within him for a
spell, unless a good angel touched him with.her rod.
" It must be plain to everyone else," added Miss
Lydham, sadly. "But there, let it pass. We must
all have our trials, for our good, I suppose =■"
"my passion is thy scorn."
813
u It will be best if I speak out," replied the curate,
so that there may be no trouble in the future."
" Why, what have you got to tell me ? " asked Miss
Lydham, with an effort of surprise ; though the dul-
ness of her heart and the shortness of her breathing
might have told her that it was useless to feign in-
difference to what was coming.
" Just this, that you and I have involved ourselves
before we knew what we were doing."
" Don't say such things," pleaded Miss Lydham,
shrinking as much from the cold, judicial tone of the
young man as from the words which she knew by
intuition were to follow his opening words.
" But I must, Miss Lydham," continued the curate.
" I think I am entitled to choose my own course of
conduct in life ; and if, as I said, you suppose you
have any sort of prescriptive right to form an opinion
about my sayings and doings, it is best that we
should understand each other."
" Go on," said Miss Lydham, now humiliated by
the past and present at the same time.
" I take it this is how it came about originally,"
continued the curate calmly, with slight action of his
right hand, as though he were declaiming from a
platform. " You were so kind when I first came
here, that naturally, most naturally, I felt grateful to
you, and somehow, from this harmless beginning, we
fiave—you have—drifted to the idea that we are—in
love—it's no use blinking the fact."
" Oh, Will," entreated Miss Lydham, with her
hands before her face.
" I can't help it," he said, with a magisterial shake
of his head, He confessed to himself that her
314
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
feminine way of receiving his communication was an
admirable aid for the preservation of his own
equanimity. " I shall be ashamed of myself if I do
not speak out now. And, remember, it is for your
good as well as mine."
u Your good and mine ! " Miss Lydham repeated.
" Certainly it is," he persisted. " Howsoever
much I respect you, and, I may even say, love you—
as a member of the church of Christ, understand—
it would be most iniquitous to pretend that I can feel
towards you as a husband ought to feel towards his
wife."
Again Miss Lydham covered her face, and turned
half aside from him.
" The truth is this, Constance ; I may still call you
so, may I not ? Well, well," he resumed, after a
pause for the concession which was not granted him.
u But, as I said, the truth is that we are all prone to
go wrong in the trivialities of life, no less than in the
choosing of the broad rather than the narrow way."
" Trivialities," exclaimed Miss Lydham. But the
curate did not hear her. He was too occupied with
his own logic ; for was it not relatively a matter of
much importance that he should explain away this
little misunderstanding, so that by not so much as a
word could he be convicted of uncharitableness ?
u We are both young, Constance—Miss Lydham,"
proceeded the curate, with his eyes on the blue sky,
" and youth is indiscreet, imaginative, apt to mistake
the form for the substance, liable to misconstrue
sentiment for passion. It is hard on us ; but, believe
me, this is part of the discipline of your earthly life,
and were we not subjected to such discipline, it would
"MY PASSION IS THY SCORN."
315
argue us unworthy of being tried in the furnace that
prepares us for a sinless, dispassionate eternity. I
feel quite sure there is much happiness in store for
you, Miss Lydham, and from a much worthier source
then I should ever prove myself."
The curate paused, and contemplated his congrega-
tion. For a brief interval they both heard nothing
except the tumbling water, the rustling of the leaves
as the wind breathed through the trees, and the
merry ring of light voices not their own.
Miss Lydham broke the silence, looking with the
eyes of an offended woman sternly into the curate's
face. This was more than the curate could bear ;
avoiding her gaze, he looked on the sky again.
" Why did you not tell me this last Friday ? " she
asked, with something of reproach and something of
contempt in her tone.
The curate wrinkled his forehead horizontally, and
lifted his eyebrows as though he would feign accuse
some one or something over whom or which human
beings have no influencing power.
" I never realised the position," he said, " that is,
until I got home. It took me quite by surprise.
We are creatures of impulse. Will you forgive me
if I have unwittingly wronged you ? "
" What else can I do ? " she murmured, with sub-
dued sorrow in her tone, turning her face from him
again. " Still, it is very hard," she whispered to
herself.
But the curate heard these last words. He saw
also the tear or two (they might be tears of passion,
or tears of disappointment), which coursed down the
half-averted cheek of Miss Lydham ; and in a moment
316
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
he repented of his humour, and sunk vastly in his
own esteem. " Of course I will do all I ought, if you
think I am bound to you, or if it distresses you
so much," he said. " I will try to love you, I will
indeed. Pray do not cry."
" Try to love me ! " exclaimed the insulted woman,
indignantly, and hastily wiping the tears from her
face. " Ah ! " and indignation gave way to a wise
and kindly resignation. " It has been a pitiful
blunder from first to last, but it is I that am to
blame "
" No, no," said the curate, like a whipped boy.
" I think so ; I mistook you for a man, Will. If
only you had been stronger."
Miss Lydham shook her head at the curate tenderly
rebukeful, regarding him as a mother might regard
her big son, or a sister her little brother. Then she
smiled at him—he could not discern the hollowness of
the smile.
" Oh ! you will be all right again in no time," said
Mr. Cathcart cheerily, much encouraged by the turn
of affairs. u I'm most certainly not the man for
you—
"The man!'''' murmured Miss Lydham, compas-
sionately.
" I tell you what," continued the curate, sinking
his voice and speaking confidentially, " from what I
have seen of you and our friend Mr. Warmington, I
think you are cut out for each other in a most extra-
ordinary manner—I do indeed."
"How can you say such things?" said Miss
Lydham, momentarily indignant again. "And since
we have done with tenderness and almost with good
" Mir PASSION Is THt SCORN.5* 317
taste, tell me if it is on account of Miss Foster
that you have been thus suddenly impelled to speak
your mind."
The curate turned towards the Cleft, and noticing
signs of a movement among the rest of the party,
prepared to rejoin them.
" Come along, quickly," he exclaimed ; " they
want us for luncheon, and, Constance, if I may
continue to call you so, in all Christian friendship,
we shall be better friends than lovers, I do believe."
But, for all her strength and dignity of mind,
Constance Lydham only sighed in answer to this.
A. mistress is often very much less to a man than his
friend; but to a woman there is no friend like
a lover.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
" ONE OF COURAGE; PLUS TWO OF WINE; MAKE THREE
OF COURAGE."—Old Dutch Prescription.
To describe the luncheon which Lord Lumsey had
prepared for his guests were a task more exacting
than gratifying. It would be a catalogue of dainties,
calculated to make the mouth water, but affording no
solid satisfaction to any one. We will, therefore, only
mention the champagne, which was excellent, and to
this champagne Lord Lumsey- insisted on having
every one helped and helped repeatedly. Moreover,
the waiters were so deft and velvet-footed, that 110 one
knew when his or her glass was refilled ; and so it
was natural that ladies and gentlemen should be
uncertain whether or no they had had enough.
For instance, Mr. Warmington did not, as a rule,
drink wine. He was not a teetotaller, though he
advocated temperance as strongly as any other
minister of the church. But he liked people to rely
on themselves when it was before them, to choose
between what was good and what was bad for them.
He was a servant of Christ, wrho in most of the con-
flicts between good and evil which take place in the
arena of every human heart did not believe in handi-
capping the devil. " Deliver us from evil" was with
him by no means the same thing as a Deliver us from
temptation." The former suggested a battle in which,
by the grace of God, goodness prevailed and was
strengthened by the victory. The latter was salvation
"ONE OP COURAGE," TEC.
319
by sneaking—the whimpering of a child for some-
thing nice, whether he deserved it or whether he
did not. But, on this occasion, Mr. Warmington
yielded to Lord Lumsey's entreaty that he would
have just one glass of champagne, and it was no
fault of Lord Lumsey's or Mr. Warmington's if,
by the time the luncheon was over, Mr. Warmington
had drunk three or four glasses instead of one.
It was the same with his fellow curate. Only with
this difference, that Mr. Cathcart had no idea. of
drawing the line at one glass ; though, as a temperate
man of a sober profession, he never thought of
u getting tipsy." Samuel Johnson Foster also drank
well, as did his father. Mary, who sat by Sam, tried
to keep him within limits, but the velvet-footed
waiters were too sly for her.
When the feast was over the party left the table to
the velvet-footed waiters, and returned to the Cleft.
There, awaiting them on the level summit of the
hillock, they found three ponies and a man who had
them in charge.
" These ponies are for you ladies," said Lord
Lumsey. " You have to see St. Dunstan's Punch-
bowl, if you feel equal to it, later on. There's not
much to choose between my Punchbowl and the
many that belong to the devil about the country,
except that mine has a better name."
" The Punchbowl, certainly," cried Mr. Cathcart,
spiritedly, looking round to the others for con-
firmation.
It was agreed, therefore, that they should start for
the ride and walk through the path to the Punchbowl
in half-an-hour's time, and that they should occupy
320
VIRGINIA, . THE AMERICAN.
the interval as they pleased. Most of the party
returned to the Cleft, and sat chatting by the side of
it. Not so Uncle Foster, however. He had given
but one glance at the phenomenon earlier in the day,
and this had satisfied him that so puny an eccentri-
city of nature was quite unworthy of being looked at
twice. Besides, he had had an amazingly good
dinner, call it by what name you please, and the
leafy shade, no less than the soft green turf, invited
him to snooze. In this attempt of his he had all but
succeeded, when the voice of Mr. Cathcart broke the
spell, and made him sit up and tear the handkerchief
from his face.
" A thousand pardons, sir," said the curate. "I
had not the least idea who you were. Pray don't let
me disturb you."
" You've done it anyhow, young fellow," said the
old gentleman gruffly, but not unkindly. "And,
since you're here, let's talk a bit, if you're going to be
one of the family, as they say."
" One of the family ! " exclaimed the curate, hot
with anxiety and surprise, and blushing like a school
girl. " I—I wasn't aware your daughter had done
me the honour of mentioning me to you, much
less "
" My daughter, Virginny ! Oh, bless you, no. I
ain't talking of her."
" Oh ! " moaned the curate, losing all his acquired
colour in a moment.
" No; it's Constance Lydham, my niece by
marriage, that I'm referring to. I hope you mean
to strain pretty hard to keep her comfortable. You'll
excuse my saying so much, won't you ? "
"ONE Of COURAGE," ETC.
321
u My dear Sir," said the curate, with a sudden
return of courage, " I shall excuse nothing unless
you do me the favour of finishing your nap; I
positively refuse to interrupt it." After which he
marched away, far from sure that he was not being
pursued, and that he would not be'called upon to
explain his footing with the family.
When it was time to set out for the Punchbowl,
there was a quick separation of the party into
couples.
" Go and walk by someone else instead of me,"
said Mary to Sam. " It's just a little pointed, dear,
you know, your keeping to me the livelong day. We
shall exhaust each other's virtues in a week at this
rate."
" Rubbish, Mary I" said the swain. " Or, if you
mean it, I'll go to Constance before anyone else."
This he did, though very little to his satisfaction.
Mr. Cathcart took Sam's place, much to Sam's
disgust. He would rather have selected Virginia,
but this was forbidden him.
Virginia herself was secretly well pleased to find
Mr.Warmington by her side.
And Lord Lumsey and Uncle Foster walked
ahead, busily engaged in what Uncle Foster, in his
innocence, thought was a very instructive discussion
on political economy and international politics—about
both of which amusing subjects Lord Lumsey knew
probably less than his butler.
" Miss Foster," said Mr. Warmington, " I can't
think you are going away to-morrow. We have got
so used to seeing you, that it will be a great loss to
us."
Y
322
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Thank you," replied Virginia, modestly. She did
not find it so easy to speak fluently from the back of
a pony, mounted so that her face could be read like
a book by such as were skilled readers of faces.
" Shall you come back here after your travels—
before crossing the Atlantic, I mean ? "
" I don't think it," she said ; and then she added,
with a smile, " but I guess my brother Sam will
return by himself. He has a promise from my Cousin
Mary."
" A promise ! "
" Yes ; she's going to marry him."
" Indeed, Miss Foster. They have my warmest
congratulations, both of them. Your brother has
gained a prize ; but it is cruel in you to be taking
someone else from Borton as well as yourself. We
can ill spare Miss Mary Lydham."
" You like my Cousin Mary? "
" Of course I do. The Miss Lydhams are very
good and useful parishioners."
" But they don't see you overmuch, except at church
—at least, they say so. They call you exclusive."
" I am exclusive, Miss Foster," said the curate;
" but not from self-conceit. Rather the other way,
believe me."
" I guess the ladies of this place credit you with
very unworthy motives, whatever you do—some of
them, I mean. There's that old woman, Miss Smack,
or Clack."
i " Clack, Miss Foster," he said. " I don't like her,
truly. But I am bound to tolerate them; and
(smiling) you musn't libel our parishioners in this
way, or else I shall have to give you a lecture."
" ONE OF COURAGE," ETC. 828
" All! " said she, smiling at him in return, " you
gave me a lecture first time I saw you. In the
churchyard, you know."
" Yes, I'm not likely to forget it."
" Why not ? Didn't I worry you with my ques-
tions ? "
" Miss Foster, to a man of my temperament, a
questioner like you is a godsend."
" Oh, I'm mighty pleased to think that," she said.
" What is your scheme of life, Miss Foster ? It is
a rude question, I fear. To an English lady it
might be an impertinence to put it; but I have an
idea you are more liberal in your definition of
license."
" Mv scheme of life ! " she said—and she said the
«/
words slowly, as though she were weighing their
meaning. u It's a wide sort of poser, that. But I'll
tell you, mister. I wouldn't tell everyone in this
place, but I'll tell you. Well, I want to be down-
right useful, to be talked about in all parts of the
States while I'm alive—talked of, you know, as a
woman the nation likes, and is grateful to for some-
thing. And then, when I'm dead, I'd like them to
put up statues and buildings in memory of me, so
that folks might look up at my face (my stone face
you know), and say ' that woman, Virginia, was a
real genuine piece of goods. She did something for
the nation, and no mistake ;' and I guess, if the
Almighty does keep a squad of angels to sing to him,
and these same angels are the men and women who
did their duty best on this morsel of a globe called
our earth, I guess our old Virginia is now clearing
her throat with the best of them, maybe on the same
324
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
bench as Moses and Abraham, Isaac Newton and
Washington. That's what I'd like, mister. No one
knows that but you, not even—well, someone else.
Father don't, and Sam don't; they wouldn't under-
stand it if I told them. But, somehow, I think you
can go alongside the fancy, and say that it ain't all a
dream—the sort of thought that every young body has
who knows nothing about the world, and which a
person will be forgetting, and getting over like the
measles. There, mister, I guess you know all about
Virginia Foster now ! "
She had spoken slowly at first, twisting the hair of
her pony's mane with her disengaged hand. But,
towards the end, her face had flushed, and her words
had come from her with a quick eloquence that
charmed Mr. Warmington, quite apart from the
matter of her words, and the beauty of her face
while she spoke them.
" Thank you, Miss Foster," he said ; " may God
keep you to your own high standard."
" I believe He will," she replied. " I'm a precious
sham outside, I know that. But then, it ain't the
shell, it's the kernel, eh, mister ? "
" As you say, it is the kernel—the soul. But I
wonder "
" What do you wonder ? "
" I wonder whether you propose working by your-
self for this great end. It is a serious thing to strive
for the world single-handed, however good your
intentions."
" You mean marriage, don't you ? "
"Well—yes," acknowledged the curate,hesitatingly,
' I did. Does that enter into your scheme ? "
"one of courage," etc. 325
" Oh ! Ken—tucky, mister ! that's telling ! " and
the girl laughed merrily.
"No, Miss Foster," said Mr. Warmington, without
a touch of responsive humour ; " I did not mean to
be inquisitive. But I could not help being curious.
You are such an unconventional type of woman, if I
may say so."
" I am, am I ? " questioned Virginia eagerly ; and
her eyes sparkled with pleasure. " Oh ! that's rare
and nice to hear said of a body."
" Yes," he said. " But it is a dangerous gift, Miss
Foster. It tends to isolation ; and isolation is one of
the deadliest consequences of peculiarity, whether of
aims or character."
" Oh! that may be so here. But over yonder, I
tell you, it's different. We're not so many candles all
of a size in one big candlestick. We're each a lamp
of our own, and can burn it how we like. But you
were talking of marriage just now. Why don't you
do it yourself, if it's such a proper thing ? "
" Ah ! Miss Foster; I have tried once and failed."
" Failed ! How ? Why ? Did she die, poor
thing ? "
" She died, Miss Foster, to me."
" Dear, dear ! Well, I am sorry for you. I don't
wonder you're so sad. That sort of thing would
squeeze the life out of me, I believe."
Mr. Warmington smiled at the girl; then, looking
away, smiled to himself.
" You must pluck up again," continued Virginia.
" It ain't meant for us to mourn much here, con-
sidering we've only our three score and ten to do
everything in. Do have another try, mistegV
326
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" How can I ? " said the curate.
" Why, in this way. Just in this way. Just lose
that notion that we women are a pack of angels, with
no sins, and only fit to he asked a thing on your
bended knees. I'm awful ashamed when I see verses
full of such flounce and frill nonsense. And there's
hundreds of thousands who would make you com-
fortable and he done pretty well by in marrying you.
But, I say, you mustn't mind my talk; I'm only a
girl, and oughtn't to do it, only you tempted me so."
"And you, dear Miss Foster, tempt me to say
what I should not have had the courage to say else,"
said Mr. Warmington. He still retained the bridle
of the pony with his left hand ; but his right hand
he presumed to place on Virginia's.
" Yes," said Virginia, looking at him quietly.
" I hope nothing. But if you could love me—"
" Me ! " exclaimed the girl, withdrawing her hand
from his, and touching her forehead with the fingers
of it. " Me ! Oh! hut you mustn't think of me.
I'm not at all your figure, believe me, I'm not."
The curate took her refusal philosophically. " You
couldn't like me? " he said. "Well, well, who can
wonder ? "
" No, no. I don't say that. But you are a mile too
good for me, and it's not possible, besides. I'll be
thinking of you as long as I live, off and on, you
know ; hut I guess I've my own duty in that line to
look after in Timoleonopolis."
" That Timoleonopolis of yours must be a happy
place, Miss Foster."
" It's as happy as thunder, mister," replied the
girl forcibly. " There's no end of evil in it, for all we
"ONE OF COURAGE," ETC.
327
praise it up to tlie skies. We're bound to do that,
you know, or who'd buy our papers or settle about
us ? And it's some of that same evil I mean to be
knocking on the head. But to think of your fancying
me ! Why, sir, I treated you more like a father."
" Then, Miss Foster, let me bless you as a father
might his own child. May God keep you here and
hereafter," said the curate, earnestly.
They continued talking until the Punchbowl was
reached ; nor did either of them seem to think that,
because a proposal of marriage had been made by one
of them and rejected by the other, this fact was
sufficient reason for sulks and silence. The curate
had learnt the lesson of " give and take, and shake
hands after." And, whatever faults were Virginia's,
mock-modesty was not among them.
We may remark, however, that in general, under
such circumstances, it costs the lady much less to be
light-tongued than the gentleman. What is compli-
ment to the one is humiliation and disappointment to
the other.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
" now in the sky, and now on the ground, so the
foolish old earth goes round."
Saint Dunstan's Punchbowl was a spherical hollow
in the rocks, large enough to hold several million
gallons of liquor. If Saint Dunstan ever really used
this bowl for his punch, it is permissible to suppose
that his courageous adventure with the devil was
subsequent to a carouse on the Lumsey estate. In no
other way can we reconcile the story of the conflict
with probability.
There was much hazarding of theories among the
party as to the origin of the Punchbowl. Uncle
Foster suggested volcanoes, which he had heard went
out after a time, leaving nothing but vacuity to mark
their former site. And Lord Lumsey, having in his
youth heard something about a glacial epoch, sug-
gested glaciers. But Mr. Cathcart's notion about its
being a Roman bath in connection with the Roman
Station at Borton was acknowledged to be the most
original of the impromptu explanations. As for
Sam, he thought it would hold a good deal of chain-
pagne even now, and that it would be a capital idea
to fill it with champagne, and then turn him loose
upon it, or even cast him into it; but he wisely kept
the conceit to himself, having already been assured
by Mary that it would be inconsistent with good
manners to announce publicly that he had so much
benefited by the champagne at luncheon. And
"NOW IN THE SKY," ETC.
329
Mr. Warmington was too meditatively inclined to
give more than a casual look at the Punchbowl, and
a fleeting thought to it, let its origin be what it might.
Then they all very carefully clambered down the
sides of the bowl, which offered a foothold just rugged
enough to pique the faculties into attention. Lord
Lumsey pointed out certain scoriated marks, which,
he said, proved conclusively that he was right about
the glacier. Uncle Foster claimed these same marks
as evidence on behalf of the volcano.
Besides the Punchbowl, there were several other
pretty little settings of scenery in the neighbourhood,
and, under Lord Lumsey's guidance, all these were
visited. So that by the time they had re-gathered
by the hollow, the sun warned them that the dry was
far spent.
" Oh, Miss Foster ! " said Lord Lumsey, finding
himself near Virginia. " I'd like to know why we
have just the nose of a bit of happiness shown to us
on this earth without ever getting at the tail of the
thing."
His lordship was not sentimental, but inclined to
be rebellious. He stood twisting his eyeglass, with a
cynical smile on his lips. Yet there was a kindly
light in his eyes that was discordant with the humour
of his mouth.
" It's just to lug us on through our days, I'm
thinking, Lord Lumsey. We are all mere donkeys,
and can't do without our carrots."
"Then would I were your carrot, Miss Foster,"
sighed his lordship, with a freak of comedy.
"No, no, Lord Lumsey, if you were, I guess I'd
be eadng you instead of you me," laughed Virginia.
330
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" That, Miss Foster, would be quite a different
kind of meal," said his lordship.
Then, with a hardly perceptible lifting of his eye-
brows, Lord Lumsey resigned himself again into the
hands of Uncle Foster, who conceived that it was his
duty to talk a little plainly to this young man who,
for no fault of his own, was set in a position of so
much danger among his fellow creatures. Uncle
Foster had it upon him to urge Lord Lumsey to buy
a million acres of land in Montana State, to secure
himself against certain events of the future—events
about which Uncle Foster knew nothing for certain,
except that he felt inspired to foretell them. He
would do his lordship the favour of getting him the
acres as cheaply as anybody.
" It's a fact, Lord Lumsey, that you'll go to the
dogs. And where'll you be then, I'd like to know ? "
said Uncle Foster, beating his palms smartly together
in his zeal for Lord Lumsey's salvation.
" Oh ! If it comes to that," said his lordship,
with a laugh of extreme indifference, " I'm willing to
go to the dogs with my betters. It won't be bad fun
having some rows. I've had my training, you know,
and so I don't care how soon they begin—that is, if
they fight fair."
"Well, I tell you, whenever it comes, if you find
you arn't so fond of fighting as you expected, we'll
give you a bed at Echo Villa, my lord, and a tender
chop to eat with it. You change cars four times from
New York, don't forget that."
" Shall be charmed, I'm sure," murmured Lord
Lumsey, with a gentle sigh towards Virginia's
pony.
"NOW IN THE SKY," ETC.
331
Meanwhile, they were all returning to the Hall
under the gradually mellowing atmosphere of the
June evening, with the clear songs of thrushes in
their ears, and a purpling sky before them..
Sam and his beloved had got together again, and
were in a seventh heaven of delight (at least, one
may speak for Sam) during the three mile walk and
ride. There was much fondling of fingers between
them, and surreptitious pressing of hands, for which
the pony (meek animal, more concerned with the
flies than anything human) provided them with all
reasonable excuse, and it was not long before they
fell to talking of the future, that joyous possibility
which, seen from their standpoint, and with such a
coruscating sky before them, promised to be all light
and no shade.
Mr. Warmington and Miss Lydham were together,
a hundred yards ahead of the lovers. Their conversa-
tion was curiously strained for some time. Each was
more disposed to be silent than to talk, yet, urged by
scruples, each struggled to forget personal disappoint-
ments in the exercise of what seemed to be a duty.
But the effort was patent enough on both sides, and
each was soon self-questioning as to the import of
the conduct of the other. Mr. Warmington informed
himself that Miss Lydham was troubled by his fellow
curate's undisguised admiration of the American
girl. He tried to interest her in common parochial
talk, but it was ineffectual. Miss Lydham replied
or commentated in cold monosyllables until she
recollected herself, when she would display a fervour
of interest which was at least as significant as the
monosyllables, and then it was Mr. Warmington'
332
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
turn to be monosyllabic until impulse or breath were
exhausted in his companion.
At length, after an awkward pause, during which
each could not help realising the hollowness of their
conversation, Miss Lydham asked Mr. Warmington
if he did not think Mr. Cathcart a very weak young
man.
"Weak in body or mind?" questioned the man,
wondering somewhat.
" Oh ! not body. I mean in will."
" Forgive me if I say ' yes,' Miss Lydham. We
all have our failings, you know. But why do you
ask me ? You ought to know him better than I do,
if I may believe what I have heard him say."
" That is all over," said Miss Lydham, composedly.
" All over! " Mr. Warmington was astonished,
and then shocked. But he did not presume to ask
for particulars. Nothing but the determination of a
peace-maker could have led him to do this ; and he
was so very far indeed from believing that it would
be well for Miss Lydham to marry Cathcart, that he
could not begin to prattle about possible reconcilia-
tion. He was astonished at the way in which Miss
Lydham bore a blow which, he was sure, must have
wounded her terribly. Her disposition was not one to
let her take things easily. By experience he felt that
what she suffered she suffered in secret. And he
was shocked, disgusted, at the heartlessness of his fel-
low curate, which had allowed him to play with the
feelings of a high-strung, hard-working gentlewoman,
who had trusted him so unreservedly. It never
occurred to him that any blame was due to Miss
Lydham herself, or rather, that Cathcart's behaviour
"now in the sky," etc.
333
would bear a milder interpretation. It was natural
with him, in spite of his forty years of life, to side
unhesitatingly with the weaker party in a quarrel or
disrupture, and to have nothing but reproach for the
other, supposing it were inadvisable to try for a re-
conciliation. Hence his interest in Miss Lydham
had never before been so great. In the twinkling of
an eye what he knew of her presented itself to his
judgment; her inherited misfortunes (as the world
accounted her poverty) ; her goodness to her mother,
whose tearful querulousness would surely have driven
him (in her place) to say and do much which he
would afterwards have repented bitterly; her brave
struggle for honourable existence; her church-going,
and the earnestness of soul which was the chief
motor in her religion ; her care for those poorer
than herself as far as this was possible ; her love
for her sister. And it was only human that, remem-
bering all this, Mr. Warmington should also remember
that Miss Lydham was a, woman whom it did a man
good to look upon, and that, though not exactly in
her first youth, she was assuredly still young and in
the very prime of her vigour. And, becoming more
and more human, he acknowledged that he, for his
part, liked eyes that could not dissimulate ; and he
had lived long enough to know that the seeker for
perfection in either sex would die inevitably ere the
search was successful. Lastly, in a flash of foresight,
he saw Miss Lydham living a life of saddened solitude
when her sister should have left her for America. He
felt for her in this future which was yet wholly in
the future, and his indignation against Cathcart
became as strong as his compassion for her.
334
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Shameful! shameful!" he said, more in answer
to his own communings than for the hearing of his
companion.
" Please think no more about it," said Miss Lyd-
ham, forcing a smile. " Mr. Cathcart is only a boy,
and, rude as it may seem to say so to you, I think he
deserves to be treated boyishly, that is all."
" Yes, yes, that's all very well," said Mr. War-
mington, shaking his head ; " all very well for him.
It is you that I am so grieved for."
"Why, Mr. Warmington?" asked Miss Lydham,
turning her face towards him.
" Because, Miss Lydham " began the senior
curate, meeting her eyes with all the sympathy that
shone in his own eyes so as almost to moisten them.
But the words which had formed themselves so
glibly in his brain suddenly disorganised. He could
say nothing for a time. And when he did speak, it
was, as the diplomatists say, rather to conceal than
enunciate his thoughts.
It is an important matter for two human beings
when they are assured in one given moment of time
that they understand each other. They become
related in that instant, whether or no there was any
consanguinity between them beforehand. When
their eyes met, Miss Lydham felt instantaneously
that the veil which had made Mr. Warmington's
nature unappreciable by her hitherto was suddenly
removed, and Mr. Warmington at the same time felt
that he had more knowledge of Constance Lydham
than Cathcart wras ever likely to have obtained.
Yerily, it was fated to be a day of crises !
CHAPTER XXXY.
" dee jungling begeistert ihr zauberschein."
We have now to notice how far folly and conceit
will carry a man, be his profession or plan of life
what it may.
It was with the keenest elation of soul that
Mr. Cathcart had seen his opportunity of a tete-a-tete
with Miss Foster during the return to Lumsey Hall.
The girl's face had lived with him for the last three
days of his life. It had come to him with his waking
thoughts, gone to early service with him, breakfasted,
dined, and supped with him, walked out with him to
sick parishioners, studied with him when he was
so senseless as to attempt study, hob-nobbed with
him when he was alone in his room, and finally
ended the day by luring him sweetly to sleep. He
had again and again told himself that he was not
responsible that she thus monopolised his brain.
There are influences in life which it is absurd to
fight against, and this was one of them. Besides
(and here was the key of the matter), he did not wish
to expel her from his thoughts.
It was in the presence of this absorbing " pen-
chant" of his (he did not dare at first to call- it
passion—that were too utterly suggestive of in-
delicacy) that he realised how merely pretentious
was his fooling with Miss Lydham. This latter was
only an attachment iC de convenance," if even it
was that. And, on his pillow that very morning,
336
VIRGINIAj THE AMERICA#.
Mr. Cathcart had argued the question to a very
gratifying conclusion, viz., that if Miss Iydham
imagined there was anything between him and her
except a staunch christian friendship, she was mightily
in error; and that it would be well to let her know it,
as a clever surgeon performs an operation, with one
quick stroke.
Since then, opportunity had been favourable to him.
He had very successfully freed himself from mis-
understanding with Miss Lydham. And it only
remained to see how far he could venture to go with
this American girl, who earned her six or seven
hundred sterling per annum, and was the most win-
some anomaly he had ever had the pleasure of
knowing.
True, at times during the morning, the question of
the propriety of disturbing the mind of a young girl
like Yirginia by talking on such a solemn subject as
love (if it should come to that) had contrived to ob-
trude itself into his own mind ; but, in the liberality of
his principles, he had ousted the cold-nosed scruple.
Nay, on the strength of the re-action, he had
even got to calculating his chances, supposing he
should feel impelled to ask Miss Foster to marry him.
The rapid growth and evolution of his feelings towards
her, and the fact that she was to quit Borton in a few
hours, warranted him in thus looking ahead and
weighing the issue.
Well, on this score he was less uneasy than might
have been imagined. Indeed, going by Miss Lyd-
ham's interpretation of her cousin's nature, he thought
he saw a very good opening for his success. The girl
was certainly odd-mannered, half-or-quarter cultured,
"DER JUNGLING- BEGEISTERT," ETC. 337
imaginative; surely, therefore, she would not be
likely to turn her back on him, a man possessing
those qualifications of birth, breeding, and education
which are an all but irresistible attraction to the
young and imaginative.1 Besides, he was not ill-
looking, and a clergyman. And on these two strong
qualifications Mr. Cathcart could not help placing
much reliance. Nor was he rebuffed by the recollec-
tion of Virginia's conduct towards him latterly. She
had been seemingly supercilious, witty at his expense,
not quite as gentle in her looks as he would have
liked, and had not treated him with the marked
attention he might have expected ; yet what were all
these symptoms but proofs that Miss Foster, like all
girls worth the wooing, had much of the coquette in
her. It was the old story of u you advance and I
retire ; you retire and I advance," until the right
moment, when an advance on both sides settled the
dilemma. Once at her feet (metaphorically, of
course) he had little, if any, doubt she would throw
away the mask, and melt into a thousand tell-tale
blushes, or turn upon him with that sweet confiding
smile of hers (like a summer sunbeam), and confess
that she was his, and his only.
Mr. Cathcart was not in the least disturbed by the
thought that he might have a rival suitor. How
could that' be, seeing that Miss Foster had been in
Borton but one single week ? The only man who
could be in question was his fellow curate, Warmington,
and it was completely ridiculous to put poor, sober,
old Warmington in competition with him in such i a
business. Constance Lydham had mentioned •Lord
Lumsey as having flirted with Virginia earlier in the
z
338
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
day. Well, that was very distressing and improper,
of course ; but the fact that it was flirting proved to
him conclusively that it was most unlikely to go beyond
a flirtation, It was not likely that the Lord of
Lumsey would look below an English " honourable "
for his mate.
No ; it was distinctly a matter for the determina-
tion of himself, and himself alone. And, what with
the new impetus he had received from the sight of
Virginia in her refreshing summer costume, her
sweet girlish face, as open as the sky itself, his dis-
entanglement from Constance Lydham, and his
own high spirits, thanks to the champagne and the
oxygen in the air, he was ready to go all lengths
with the girl long before he had a chance of talking
to her quite by herself. It is a sad thing to affirm
of so right-minded a young man; but, in truth,
the champagne was the most powerful of his in-
centives to speech and action. Thanks to the
champagne, Mr. Cathcart felt twice himself, and,
since in his simple individuality he was by no means
insignificant, he might surely now anticipate as easy
a victory over Miss Foster's heart as was ever
achieved by an immaculate novel-hero over the heart
of a ready-made " inamorata."
" Miss Foster," said Mr. Cathcart, his face reful-
gent with happiness present and expectant. " It's so
very jolly for me to get hold of you at last."
" Oh! it's you, is it ? " said Virginia, turning half-
round on her pony. She had been busy with part of
the riding gear, and her face was slightly flushed from
the exertion. She did not look as nice as she might
have looked, thought the curate.
"DER jungling begeistert," etc. 339
"Yes, Miss Foster, it is I. Can I be of any
assistance to you ? "
" I don't know a single thing in which you could
do me the tiniest bit of good, mister," said Virginia.
" What did you say when you came up about being
j0ll-y?".
The girl did not seem in a good humour, thought
the curate. Her tone was much too high pitched for
his ears ; it quite offended his sensibility. Depend
upon it, she did not like being caught stooping over
her saddle in that way ; it interfered with her com-
plexion, the symmetry of her clothes, etc., trivial
things to a masculine eye, but of infinite importance
to the feminine mind.
I know the sex, thought the curate. They're very
sweet; but oh, how very easily their balance is dis-
turbed.
"About being jolly, Miss Foster? Oh! I only
said that it's jolly for me to get hold of you like this."
" For you, certainly, mister. That may be. But
excuse me .if I draw a mighty deep black line under
the < you.'"
" Ha ! ha ! " laughed the curate. But the " ha !
ha ! " changed to a dubious " he ! he ! " as his intelli-
gence took in the meaning of Virginia's words—or
thought it did.
" I guess you've been muddling it with my cousin,
Constance, haven't you, Mr. Cathcart ? Now, it ain't
my column, but I think you're a fool to try and sit on
two stools, else "
The curate could not credit his ears. He bore
Virginia's scrutiny with sublime courage, however,
and shook his head as though he were dazed, quite in
340
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
ignorance of the problem she was propounding to
him ; and his steps all the while kept time with the
pony's paces mechanically.
" Excuse me, Mr. Cathcart, I'm for a trot," said
Virginia, when she had read on the curate's face the
succession of thoughts which had formed in the
curate's brain. And, switching her pony, without
awaiting a word from Mr. Cathcart, she was twenty
yards from him before he had begun to quicken his
own pace in pursuit.
What an appalling piece of rudeness, thought the
curate ; and, from force of pulpit habit, his hands
rose in deprecation.
" I never, did meet with such a girl," he said to
himself. What was she aiming at, thus throwing
Miss Lydham in his teeth, and paralysing him at the
outset of his declaration. It was clear she had no
idea what fun Constance Lydham made of her, else
she would not have been so ready to champion her
cousin ; or he knew nothing of a woman's nature.
Thus erratically musing, Mr. Cathcart allowed
Virginia to get much ahead of him before it flashed
to him that it was unquestionably his duty to follow
her if he meant to behave like a man.
Nothing could be more plain. Silvia flees that
Aminta may pursue.
" Lascia, lascia le selve
Folle garzon . . . ed ama."
The curate brought his arms to the double, and ran
in excellent form after Virginia and the pony. The
pony could go pretty well, but was no match in speed
for the curate, who was alongside Virginia again a
" DER JUNGLING BEGEISTERT," ETC. 341
couple of minutes after their separation, barely even
out of breath.
" Oh ! Miss Foster," said the curate archly, and
making pretence to be dreadfully winded in her
service.
" You needn't have taken the trouble," said Vir-
ginia, with a countenance more impartial than a
judge's.
" Miss Foster," said the curate, gushingly, " there's
nothing I would not do to show how I admire you,"
and he panted again, to remind her of his sufferings
on her behalf.
" Ah ! " said Virginia, with a keen glance at the
man; " then that is your game, Mr. Cathcart.
Well! if I ain't astonished ! I think I'll be off
again."
But, before Virginia could incite the pony into a
new trot, the curate took the bridle in his left hand,
and, making a great to-do, besought Miss Foster not
to try him a second time ; or, at least, to let there be
an interval between the tests.
" You're going a little far, ain't you, mister, to be
guiding my animal ? It's lent to me, not to you, I
reckon."
" I do declare you are such a bitter-sweet girl as I
never saw in my life before," exclaimed the curate.
It was possible she wanted to rile him to see if he had
any spirit under his black coat. He, therefore, spoke
severely, to let her know he disapproved of too much
coquetry in young women, even the prettiest of
them.
"Well!" said Virginia, "if you ain't a rare
novelty, I don't know where I've met one."
342
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" Same to you, Miss Sugar-lemon," retorted the
curate, with a smile.
" Sugar-lemon ! " repeated Virginia. " Well, I'm
glad you can put the sugar first, anyway."
" Oh, come, Miss Foster," said the curate, his
impatience urging him to try the tone hortatory,
" our time is short; don't, I beg, let us waste it in
recriminations, even though these he compliments in
disguise. Miss Foster, dear Miss Foster, tell me if
you could live in England ? "
" Live in England ? That depends, mister."
"Yes ! " eagerly demanded the curate, " upon
what? "
" If you were out of it, I might," said the girl.
" Oh ! it is too bad of you," cried the curate, in a
pet. " Do be serious. I mean what I say, Miss
Foster."
Virginia unhesitatingly whipped the pony forward.
" Dear me ! " muttered the curate. " She is a
caution, and no mistake. Such a tongue ! And
such a cheeky manner! Such eyes, though ; and
such a clear skin ! Such self-possession ! And with
seven hundred a year ! "
" Ha ! ha ! " laughed the curate to himself, " this
is the second act of the comedy. A comedy ends in
the third act—they all go away happy. If I don't
show myself a ' Pastor Fido' now, I may as well
give it up ! " And again Mr. Cathcart ran like an
athlete after Virginia's obedient little pony.
He was really out of breath this time when he
caught up the American girl. The pony had been
made to go. The curate's own ruminations had been
more lengthy than at first, and the ground was a
"der jungling begeistert," etc.
343
little trying. The worst of it was, that he was also a
little out of humour.
" I say—I—I—shan't do this a third time—Miss
Foster," he stammered, trying to smile. It were as
well to he obdurate at last.
" I didn't think you'd try it twice," said Virginia,
calmly watching the curate gasping, " Now, just
tell me, Mr. Cathcart, if you please, have you said
■' skedaddle' to my cousin Constance ? If I'm wrong,
I'll beg your pardon with all my heart, a thousand
times."
" Oh ! Miss Foster," sighed the curate, the blood
suffusing his face in a heartless manner.
" Yes or no, mister ? "
" You've no idea, Miss Foster, how she laughed at
y0U "
" Mr. Cathcart," said the girl, interrupting him,
" if I was a man (I wish I was), I'd call you "
" Yes ! yes ! "
" A cuss, Mr. Cathcart," said the girl.
Again the patient pony yielded to the cajolements
and urging of its mistress ; the trot quickened into a
canter, the canter into a gallop, and, whether the
pony had caught the spirit of it's rider, or whether
it enjoyed the soft evening air immeasurably, and
determined to show that it did so, it kept up the
gallop for a good ten minutes, long before the
expiration of which time it was out of sight of Mr.
Cathcart.
But, to tell the truth, the junior curate of Borton
had now no inclination to try a third scamper. He
was crushed. No conscientious felon, convicted of
his felony, could have had a worse opinion of him-
344
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
self. And Miss Foster was not two hundred yards
ahead of him ere Mr. Cathcart turned aside from the
track through the park towards Lumsey Hal 1, and
purposely wandered in a different direction, away
from any thoroughfare. In no long time, however,
his feelings were too much for him. He stood still,
looked about him wildly—at the earth, the sky, the
distant hills, the less distant trees, and. then threw
himself upon the grass, crying like a big child, his
face covered with his hands.
CHAPTER XXXYI.
"every day must have its end."
Virginia, having lost sight of Mr. Cathcart, let her
pony have his gallop out, and then waited at the
Cleft for her relations, Mr. Warmington and Lord
Lumsey. Her humour would have carried her right
away through the park to Borton by herself, but she
was averse to abusing Lord Lumsey's kindness by
seeming to abduct his pony. Still, she had had
time to cool considerably, and even to chill, before
her brother and Mary Lydham came in sight. These
worthy people, however, were in no hurry to join
Virginia, and so it happened that all the party were
united to her at about the same time.
" Where's the young man ? " asked Uncle Foster,
peeping among the rocks. " I mean Constance's
young man—Mr. Cathcart."
Mr. Warmington and Miss Lydham exchanged
singular glances, and then quickly looked away,
as if the meeting of their eyes was purely accidental.
" It's possible, pa, he has gone to church," said
Virginia. " He didn't come far with me."
"Church, eh!" said his lordship. "Well, I'd
have forgiven him if he had just told us beforehand
of his intentions. I'm ashamed, Miss Foster, that
you should have been left in this way, I am indeed."
" Lord bless your lordship," protested Uncle Foster,
" if you knew my Virginny as well as I do, you'd
346
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
calculate she was not a girl to be set in a fret by a
little solitude. She's used to it, my lord."
" Alas ! Mr. Foster, I would I did know Miss
Foster as well as you," said Lord Lumsey, with a
tragic expression of regret.
Everyone laughed more or less at Lord Lumsey.
But it was well, for he meant that they should laugh.
His admiration for Virginia was now quite above
board.
" And now, ladies and gentlemen, I hope you will
honour me by eating something at the Hall," added
his lordship. " And afterwards we will drive back by
the moon as late as you can manage it."
" The moon, Mary," whispered Sam, rolling his
eyes ecstatically.
But there were several strong objections against a
protraction of the day's enjoyment. Uncle Foster
pleaded the journey next day, and the inevitable
packing to be accomplished thaifc evening. Mr.
Warmington had a service to attend at eight o'clock,
which he should hardly be in time for, though he set
off at once for Borton. Miss Lydham had a head-
ache; poor woman, it was more of a heartache. And
even Virginia admitted that she was tired.
" Ah, well!" said his lordship, with a smile. " I
should be sorry if you carried away with you an idea
that all Her Majesty's peers are bores. We must not
run our pleasure to death."
Accordingly, a gentleman in livery, who had been
within call throughout the day, was despatched to see
the drag prepared in readiness for them when they
reached the Hall; and they all followed the man.
Virginia was between her father and Lord Lumsey.
"EVERY DAY MUST HAVE ITS END." 347
At Lord Lumsey's special request, Virginia again
sat by his side on the box of the drag. She had
much food for quiet thought in the events of the day,
and would willingly have spoken never a word during
the drive.- But she could not restrain Lord Lumsey,
even if she had been inclined to do ought to distress
that kindly nobleman ; and, little by little, he weaned
her from her pensiveness by the craft of his light,
pleasant chatter.
Lord Lumsey did not talk of love a third time,
but he talked much of America, and assured Virginia
that some fine bright morning he would call on them
in Timoleonopolis, and see if he could find a sister of
Virginia, as like Virginia as possible, but who, un-
like Virginia, might have no confounded obstacle to
barricade her from the love of an honest man like
himself. And Virginia, with a smile at his lordship,
to teach him that she understood his humour, had
replied that, if he did happen to visit Timoleonopolis,
he might rely on a welcome from her father and
herself, and, if he was not quick about it, from some
one else—perhaps.
To which Lord Lumsey replied, " Ah ! " with wise
intonation, looking at Virginia with twinkling eyes.
" Some of us," he added reflectively, " are born fools,
and some born lucky, Miss Foster."
" And some both, my lord," said Virginia, quietly.
At the door of No. 19, Heather Street, there was
much hand-shaking and leave-taking. Heather
Street had seen nothing to equal it. It was as though
the clouds were raining " Good-bye, Miss Foster,"
and when at length the echo of the horses' hoofs had
died away, and the echo of Mr. Warmington's foot-
348
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
steps had also died away, riotous and reverberating
echoes of " Good-bye, Miss Foster, good-bye," still
seemed to make themselves beard in the ears of the
disturbed inhabitants of the street.
Of course, however, the adieus were not confined
to Miss Foster ; but men greet and part from each
other with but little effusion of feeling and expression
as compared to that called forth in them by the
greetings and farewells they exchange with women.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
" WIND UP THE CLOCK!, CHILD ; 'TIS TIME TO BE
GONE."
Now that the Fosters are about to leave Borton, it
is time to say a few last words about the local
characters who have been more especially influenced
by Virginia Foster during the week of her visit.
First, of Mr. Cathcart, whom we left on the grass
in Lumsey Park, overwhelmed by a sense of his own
exceeding unwisdom, and the humiliation to which it
had led him. He was a promising young man, tern-
porarily gone astray—that was the truth. It was a
fatal mistake in a young man of his temperament
and personal graces to go straight from Oxford to
the pulpit in a place like Borton. The atmosphere of
Borton would have corrupted a stronger moral
physique than his. And, since the Vicar of St.
Simon's did not properly take upon him the guidance
of Mr. Cathcart through the perilous times of his
first curacy, it was left for some such bitter blow as
had just fallen upon him to bring him to a sense of
what was due to himself from himself, no less than
from himself to others.
His colleague, Mr. Warmington, was disposed to
say some very stinging words of; reproof to him
when he reached home after the picnic. But one
look at the face of the junior curate, when he did
appear, made his senior refrain. Contrition and
350
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
anguish had written their lines on Mr. Cathcart's
forehead, and were still shadowed in his eyes.
" Oh, Warmington, I have become such a wretch,
such a miserable sinner ! " said the junior curate in
a hoarse whisper.
"Yes. About what?" said Mr. Warmington,
purposing to help Mr. Cathcart to realise to the full
the meanness of which he had been guilty. The
dose would be disagreeable doubtless, but wholesome.
Then Mr. Cathcart sat down, and, with his elbows
resting on the table, supporting his aching head, told
out the tale of his weakness, which to him had only
assumed intelligible form, beginning about a week
ago. He was amazed, he said, wrhen he stood, as it
were, apart from himself, and contemplated his
behaviour; he could not understand that it was
himself who had acted so abhorrently.
" What can I do, Warmington, what can I do? "
he asked, entreatingly.
"Old fellow," said the other, "I don't think you
can do much more than you have done. If you have
blundered—as we all do—you have had to pay for it,
as we all have to. But, if' you want to be just
towards others as well as yourself, I would write
a line to Miss Lydham, and express your sorrow for
what you have caused her."
" I will," said Mr. Cathcart. " And, another thing,
Warmington, I mean to leave Borton. My uncle in
Manchester offered me a curacy in his church when I
came here. It is a pity I didn't take it. I will
write to him again."
It is sufficient for us to say that Mr. Cathcart did
leave Borton three months later. And there can be
" WIND UP THE CLOCK, CHILD." 351
no doubt that hard work in a manufacturing town,
where black faces, rough-tongued women, and
hungry children are the staple, instead of prim
mouths, sycophantism, and scandal, will do him more
good than he would get from the severest penance of
soul or body prescribed by himself in the marrowless
townlet of Borton.
The ladies of Borton were horribly equivocal
about Mr. Cathcart's departure. They assured
each other, tersely, and in ominous " sotto voce,"
that they were quite sure he had good reason for
going away.
Of Mr. Warmington, let us say without elucidation
(it were a new story, else) that he marries Miss
Lydham. Not immediately, for there has as yet
been no interchange of love-sentiment between them.
But eventually, for Mr. Warmington, thanks to
his experience, discovers many more good qualities
in her than were discoverable by Mr. Cathcart; and
Miss Lydham finds in him that well-seasoned help-
meet and arm made strong by battling with mis-
fortune which she had all along thought to have
discerned in the younger curate.
Lord Lumsey, being a man of the world, though
somewhat original in his presentation of that other-
wise very conventional role, was not likely to break
his heart about Miss Foster, or anyone else. But he
left Lumsey two days after the picnic, to visit an
honourable relative with a passion for experimental
science ; and, to the astonishment of this relative
(who had given him up a year ago), asked to be
taught a few things which he supposed would be
a help to him in leading a useful life : law, political
352
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
economy, the principles of land cultivation, the value
of money, and so forth.
" Are you crazy, Adolphus ? " asked his honourable
relative.
" No, I'm not," said Lord Lumsey. " And while
we are about it, tell us something of ' natural selection,'
and growing from apes. I particularly want to
know, you know, if it's a fact that we shall go on
growing, and any of us become angels. If so, the
process of hurrying it on."
" Bosh ! " said the man of science, turning away.
" It's in America that the highest point is reached
so far, isn't it ? " pursued Lord Lumsey. " I mean,
the beautifullest women ; tell me how that is."
" Poor Adolphus ! " said the scientist, reconsidering
Lord Lumsey, and gently feeling his pulse. " Don't
excite yourself, there's a dear boy; it will all come
right in time."
But Lord Lumsey was no longer willing to be
treated as a madman. " You old rubbish ! " he said
to the man of science, derisively. " D'ye think I'm
cracked ? No, I've been thrown on my legs by the
sight of a pretty girl, with something really inside
her."
"Do you mean a heart?" asked the man of
science, incredulous.
' "No; but she's got that too. I mean sense, and
pluck, and self-respect, and jolly grey eyes, and the
prettiest little mouth you ever saw; all with a figure
so dapper and soft, you'd jump out of your skin to
get a look at it."
" Oh! it is lamentable!" said the man of science,
writhing at Lord Lumsey's words. And he shrugged
"wind up the clock, child." 353
his shoulders, and looked towards a galvanic battery,
which was ready to be attached to something.
" There ! don't be angry," said Lord Lumsey,
laying a firm, quiet hand on his relation's shoulder.
" I want to live so as to be happy, that's all. The
girl has stirred the grit in me."
" All! Adolphus ? and pretty well too ! " said the
other, smiling grimly. " But I'm delighted to hear
it. First, dear boy, before electing to seek the
origin of atomic force (which will certainly make
you as positively happy as anything I know), you
must give up chasing that jade pleasure ; that won't
do."
" Ca ira ! 9a ira ! qa ira ! " sang Lord Lumsey.
" I guess I can do it all better than you can tell me,"
he added in blunt prose. And then, without a word
of apology for disturbing his honourable scientific
relative in the midst of his experiments, Lord Lum-
sey went away to his hotel.
Under his real name, Lord Lumsey is now one of
our most energetic junior lords in the Upper House.
He promises also to be one of our most enlightened
supporters of the old regime of things.
It may not be uninteresting to add that between
Miss Clack and Miss Spout there is a feud, not the
less bitter on Miss Clack's side than it is passive on
the part of Miss Spout. Miss Clack conceives to this
day that Miss Spout invited her to tea with the
American purposely to humiliate her; she will hear
nothing in the way of explanations to the contrary.
Ordinarily, the two ladies pass each other in the street
with the chilliest imaginable nods of recognition.
But once a month Miss Clack stuffs her heart to
A A
354
VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
plenitude with sublime revenge. It is on what she
calls " Sacrament Sunday," when, with a haughty
toss of the head, she passes Miss Spout in the church
porch after the administration, cutting her com-
pletely.
Of the other residents in Borton it is unnecessary
to say anything in particular. They exist, and it is
likely that they will continue so to exist, until the
opportunity of trying to live to some purpose be
summarily taken away from them.
If the many idle ladies of Borton who, being maids,
are (according to old Marlow)
" Nothing then
Withont the sweet society of men,"
are not speedily stirred into benevolent activity by a
war, a pestilence, or a famine, it may be foretold of
them with certainty that they will bring the town
into such odium as will repel new arrivals as
effectually as the plague.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
" domum, domum, dulce domum."
Lastly, we are enabled to present to our readers
some extracts from a long letter written by Virginia
Foster on the evening of the picnic, instead of
going forthwith to bed, in accordance with her
father's injunctions.
" My dear darling,
" Folks are all alike at bottom, so don't
think so much about getting a summer over here in
Europe. They speak and look just the same so far.
If you want to know what English girls are like,
dress two of Mark Roberts' store young women in
the fashion, make them simpler, and yet pretend to
be more knowing than they are. There's something
in the manner they would have to come over here to
get, if it were worth while, which it ain't. But, for
hearts and heads, it's all the same, Tommy, all the
same. * * * *
" On the ship some fine young fellows spoke to
me in whispers, twisting their moustachios, and
looking into my eyes quite strongly. They were
precious handsome. But don't fidget, Tommy. I
saw through them, though I was sick every five
minutes nearly. If I'd been well, I'd have trotted
them out; but I hadn't the energy just then. They
were just like you, Tommy (I mean, inside) only not
a tenth as luscious to me,
■ # # * *
356 VIRGINIA, THE AMERICAN.
" And now, Tommy, I hardly know what to say to
yon about the folks here. Positively, I ought to have
had a good time, for everyone, except a haughty
old maid named Clack, seemed to have taken a
fancy to me. Same as on the ship, you'll say, and
then you'll bite your lip and look dreadfully angry ;
but, indeed, I can't help it, Tommy. And you must
not storm at your poor mother if I confess that I
rather like it. It's all very innocent, Tommy. But
let me tell you, seriatim, as we say.
" First, a young British lord, with dark eyes and a
discontented lip, took to me. We went picnicing in
his lands, and if he didn't make hot love to me on
the top of his coach, and ask me to be his countess !
Think of that, Tommy ! But, of course, I said ' Oh !
my lord,' and (No, my lord,' and we parted gripping
each others' hands and smiling.
" Next, an old retired captain, with a winey, red
nose. We met him at an old maid's party, and he
insinuated that, if I would like to stay in Borton, I
might do it t'other side of his dinner table. I didn't
encourage him one morsel, Tommy, and I didn't care
two straws about him either. ^1 guess he has said
the same thing a hundred times already. Oh ! I've
no patience with such men.
" The third was a minister of the church here ;
a curate they call him. He was very nice, quite like
a sort of father in looks, with deep gutters across his
forehead that told tales to the wise. He and I were on
top of a church tower one day, by ourselves, but he
didn't say much then. It was at the picnic, when I
was on a pony. He asked me to let him help me to
get through life—all of a sudden, Tommy, I was
"DOMUM, DOMUM, DULCE DOMUM." 3f>7
right down obfisticated, and he was so tender and
quiet, that I didn't at all think what was coming.
But this was owing to his having been jilted by a
girl years ago. You've no idea what a dreadful
effect it has on a man out here. Well, I smoothed
him down as well as I could, but I didn't like it
much this time.
" And the fourth man, Tommy (all in this one little
haystack of a city, and in a week), was the other
minister of the church—a young fellow who thought
no end of nuts of himself, and seems to have played
' sentimental cupid ' here for the last year or twro. He
had half or three parts promised himself to my cousin,
Constance Lydham, and she was dead set 011 him
when I came. But I took his measure like a shot,
the silly young calf. And what do you think he did?
He cried off from Cousin Constance, and tried to
wriggle into your Virginia's affections instead. I
guess Virginia would have had no respect for her
affections afterwards if he had succeeded. Oh,
Tommy! I treated him to hot coppers ; but it's too
long to tell you this time, as I can hear the old help
of the Lydhams' outside my door, and know she's
peeping through the keyhole to see what I'm doing.
" I don't understand why the folks should take to
me in this way ; do you, Tommy ?
* * * *
" But I've another piece of news for you. Sam is
bringing back to Timoleonopolis Mary Lydham, the
younger of my cousins. They say it's to be in
November. What fun ! Constance won't like it;
but then, she is the sort of woman who gets a queer
kind of pleasure or satisfaction out of the kicks and
virginia, the american.
stings of this mortal life. She's not acclimatised to
the atmosphere of this earth yet, I guess. When she
is, she'll do.
* * * *
" Oh, Tommy ! I can't help thinking of all you
dear ones in Timoleonopolis, and I long to be back
with you. But
Tommy, dear Tommy, I canna' come home,
For I've got to see London, and Paris, and Rome ;
And then, when the time comes, you hav'n't a notion,
Dear Tommy, dear Tommy, how I shirk the old ocean.
il Get them to put that in the old corner, there's a
dear boy, with the old ' V. F.' to it. It will make
them laugh.
" I guess I've written my ten cents' worth now.
I'd send you my best love along with this if I weren't
afraid of your having to pay overweight. All I can
say is this : that, howsoever many men your Virginia
has at her knees, she'll not care a fig for them (even
if it comes to Dukes and Kings) in comparison with
her own Tommy, to whom belongs, she hopes, for
ever this side the river, Virginia Foster.
" P.S.—I think you must resign yourself to waiting
until next May, dear."
" To Thomas Barnard,
" Timoleonopolis,
" Michigan, U.S.A."
the end.
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