DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 " ALTOGETHER WRONG," "WHAT MONEY CANT DO," 
 
 ETC. ETC, ETC. 
 
 IN THEEE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 TINSLEY BEOTHEES, 18 CATHEEINE ST. STBAND. 
 1867.
 
 CONTEXTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 i. AUNT AND NIECE i 
 
 ii. PACKING UP 23 
 
 in. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 44 
 
 iv. A FOOL'S PARADISE 60 
 
 v. OPPOSITIONS 73 
 
 vi. ACROSS THE CHANNEL 87 
 
 vii. A BRITISH PARSON 107 
 
 vni. THE NEW HOME 124 
 
 ix. Miss CHORLEY 137 
 
 x. A DUNKERQUE SOIREE 153 
 
 xi. MARKET-DAY 168 
 
 xn. SUNDAY MORNING 190 
 
 xni. THE FIRST VISIT 207 
 
 xiv. MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY . . . 222 
 
 xv. SANCHO'S IMPRESSION is FAVOURABLE . . 243 
 
 xvi. TOUT POUB Moi, RIEN POUR Toi . . .256 
 
 xvii. CHATTERING CHORLEY'S CHATTERINGS . . 275 
 
 xvni. CROSSING THE DUNES 295
 
 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 
 
 " IF you don't do wrong, don't do wrong-like, my 
 dear." Mrs. Ewart spoke to her niece, the Hon- 
 ourable Mrs. Moncrieffe. 
 
 "I neither do the one nor the other," replied 
 the lady so remonstrated with, tossing her pretty 
 head with an impatient gesture ; " but you always 
 talk to me, Mum. as if I did not know wrong from 
 
 ' ' O 
 
 right, or as if I always gave preference to the 
 former." 
 
 "Well, Cecily, I think you do. I see very 
 little of the latter in any of your actions, espe- 
 
 cially lately. Now, my dear, there is no use in 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 looking cross. Some one ought to tell you the 
 truth. The truth is not always pleasant, I know ; 
 but it's none the less wholesome. You have no 
 business to have those cropped -headed, long- 
 bearded foreigners dangling about you all day 
 long. You are too pretty to let men come and 
 sit here, idling away their time and yours too. 
 Now, Cis, don't go off into one of your tempers." 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe showed every disposition to do 
 so. " I don't say there is any actual wrong ; but 
 there is a great reflection of it; and the sub- 
 stance will soon appear, if you don't drive away 
 the shadow. Where is James Moncrieffe '. What 
 is he about, that he does not look after you better 
 than he seems to do ?" 
 
 " James, indeed !" And the small well-shaped 
 head was again tossed, but this time witli a dis- 
 dainful air. " James amuses himself his own way, 
 and I mine." 
 
 *\ 
 
 "Yes, that is about the truth. You are both 
 a couple of forgive me, my dear, if I say fools ; 
 for that is what I mean, and I had best be dis- 
 tinct. You have been married five years, and 
 you have not gained one grain of common sense
 
 AUNT ANJD NIECE. 3 
 
 during that period ; and what little you had, you 
 seem to have lost. Dacia has more sense in her 
 little finger than you have in your whole body.", 
 
 "Dacia always had. She was always perfect 
 in your eyes and poor papa's. If Dacia were not 
 my sister, I think I should hate her." 
 
 Here Mrs. Moncrieffe rose up from a very 
 luxurious chair and walked towards the fire, 
 which, though burning brightly, she seemed to 
 think would be none the worse for stirring. It 
 was a cold autumnal day. She was looking dread- 
 fully bored, and very much as if she wished her 
 visitor would go, or at least talk on some plea- 
 santer subject than she had hitherto chosen. 
 
 "Poor Dacia! Have you thought, Cecily, 
 that she has but a dreary future to look forward 
 to?" 
 
 "Well, it does not seem very brilliant, espe- 
 cially if mamma continues as fidgety and cross 
 as she has been since papa's death." 
 
 "And you might add, as she ever has been 
 with Dacia." 
 
 "But, Mum, Dacia has no right to complain 
 of mamma's not caring for her so much as she
 
 4 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 might have clone. You know she never cared for 
 mamma as she did for papa." 
 
 "I don't think Dacia does complain. She 
 never has to me. But that makes it none the 
 less evident that she has much to bear." 
 
 "I had a letter from mamma to-day. She 
 says they leave next week. I am very glad they 
 have decided on going abroad. It certainly will 
 be pleasanter for Dacia than poking in some 
 wretched hole in England. I should hate to be 
 poor in England." 
 
 "Indeed, Cecily, I think you would hate to 
 be poor any where." 
 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe shrugged her shoulders in 
 reply. She however thought, if you must be 
 poor at all, it would be more tolerable on the 
 Continent than in her own country. Perhaps 
 she was right. 
 
 "I am going down to Christchurch to-mor- 
 row," continued Mrs. Ewart. "That, indeed, was 
 the principal cause of my visit here to-day." 
 
 Cecily Moncrieffe turned an inquiring look on 
 her aunt. She did not quite see why, because she 
 was going down to Christchurch, she was to call
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 
 
 on her, more especially as she had done little else 
 than lecture her since she entered the house. But 
 Mrs. Ewart, being a peculiarly straightforward, 
 plain-spoken person, made it apparent to her, 
 without glossing over her words, why she had 
 deemed it well to see her before going to her 
 mother's. 
 
 "You of course intend asking your mother 
 and sister to stay here when they are in town ; 
 and therefore it would be as Well to write and 
 tell them so at once, or for me to be the bearer 
 of a message to that effect." 
 
 "I never thought of that. Of course they 
 must sleep on their way. Dear me, what shall 
 I do ? There is but one spare room, and " Mrs. 
 Moncrieffe paused. 
 
 " And what, Cecily ?" Cecily made no answer. 
 " Pray say all you have to say at once, for I must 
 be going. I have plenty to do before starting to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Well," replied Cecily, pleased enough to hear 
 Mrs. Ewart was going soon, " the fact is, Countess 
 Langen, who is now at Brighton whilst their house 
 is being painted, wrote and asked me to give her
 
 O DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 a bed for a night or two. She wants to come to 
 town for a few days, on account of the king of 
 S ' s death." 
 
 " What on earth can the king of S , or the 
 
 king of the Sandwich Islands, have to do with the 
 Countess Langen ? And pray who is this Countess 
 Langen you have become so intimate with of late f ' 
 
 "Why, really, Mum, you never know any 
 thing." 
 
 "Perhaps not, my dear; and it might be as 
 well if you knew as little. But go on." 
 
 "Well, she's the wife of the first secretary to 
 
 the S Legation ; so the king of S 's death 
 
 obliges her to go into mourning : and as she has 
 a notion no one can do any thing in the way of 
 dress fit to put on a lady but Madame Turner, 
 she wants to come up in order to procure her 
 mourning from her." 
 
 " What ! Madame Turner of Eoyal-roadf ' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I think it stamps every woman at once who 
 deals at that house." 
 
 " Stamps her as what f " 
 
 " As being frivolous and extravagant."
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 7 
 
 i 
 
 " It only stamps her as being fashionable and 
 rich," said Mrs. Moncrieffe indignantly. " If I 
 could afford it, I would employ her too. I have 
 had one dress from her the most lovely thing I 
 ever had on in my life ! Even James declared I 
 looked charming; and James, you know, has no 
 taste." 
 
 " No, my dear ; and that is probably why he 
 thought you looked charming in one of Mrs. 
 Turner's dresses ; otherwise he would think you 
 more charming in something more simple and 
 less costly." 
 
 "You have such queer notions, Mum; you 
 always had, you know. However, what am I to 
 do? What day does mamma intend coming up, 
 I wonder ? Do you know at all ? It will be very- 
 awkward if she decides just on the same day as 
 the Countess Langen does." 
 
 "I don't think any day is fixed as yet. In 
 Dacia's last letter to me, she said she thought 
 her mother would never decide on a day herself; 
 that some one would have to do it for her; and 
 she wrote and asked me, chiefly, I believe, to try 
 and persuade your mother to leave before the Ash-
 
 8 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 ley Singletons arrive. Dacia dreads meeting them 
 very much. I don't see why, though I under- 
 stand perfectly her feelings in desiring to be away 
 from the place before they come to take possession." 
 
 " They have behaved very well, I think," said 
 Cecily Moncrieffe. "They have left mamma in 
 quiet possession for six months, and they might 
 have turned her out the instant papa died." 
 
 " They might, certainly ; but they could hardly 
 have done so in common decency. However, it 
 is quite right that the place should be ready for 
 them now. They gave her ample notice, and 
 plenty of time for forming her plans." 
 
 " They also said they would be happy if she 
 felt inclined to remain on a few weeks longer as 
 their guest, did they not ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and your mother was furious with them 
 for proposing such a thing," said Mrs. Ewart, 
 smiling. " But, Cis, I came here for one specific 
 purpose, and it seems to be the very last I am 
 attending to. What do you intend doing ? You 
 cannot let your mother and sister go to an hotel ; 
 that is out of all possibility." 
 
 "If mamma would come this week, or quite
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 9 
 
 in the beginning of next, I could manage; but 
 what can I do, Mum, if she and the Countess both 
 say they are coming at the same time f 
 
 " Write to the Countess and tell her you can't 
 have her, that's all ; it's very simple." 
 
 O, I can't do that!" 
 
 " And why can't you f 
 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe's pretty face coloured up. 
 " Because because she is a great friend of mine, 
 and I told her she could always have the use of 
 my spare room when she liked." 
 
 "There is more than that, Cecily I am sure 
 of it ; so you need not deny it. I never saw the 
 woman, and I know nothing about her ; but I 
 think she has done you no good. Ever since you 
 have struck up an intimacy with her, you have 
 got yourself surrounded by a crew of foreigners 
 that come here and talk nonsense to you " 
 
 " They don't talk nonsense." 
 
 "My dear, men young men who pay con- 
 stant morning calls on pretty young women al- 
 ways talk nonsense. Besides, Cecily, you are 
 just the sort of w T omaii to encourage and like 
 such folly. What was that man doing that I
 
 10 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 found here when I came in, standing before you 
 with both his feet together, as if he were exhibit- 
 ing his new shiny boots to you, having dismissed 
 his hat from inspection by holding it with both 
 his hands behind him? He looked like a ticket- 
 of-leave man just returned " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! Why, he is one of the at- 
 taches to the Neapolitan Embassy, and sings de- 
 lightfully." 
 
 " All, I daresay he does, and I should think 
 he was capable of very little else. The man 
 looked a conceited puppy: that cutting the hair 
 so close, just like a convict's, is nothing but affec- 
 tation. That is the set this woman has brought 
 you into ; and a very bad set it is, I am sure." 
 
 "Why, Mum, there is no society so sought 
 after ; no circles more select than diplomatic ones : 
 it is the very best there is." 
 
 " I have no opinion of it, if the men I have 
 seen here form a specimen. I daresay their 
 chiefs may be well enough ; but I know very well 
 what all the off-shoots are, if we judge of them 
 and no bad guide either by our own young men 
 that are sent off to the Continent as attaches at
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 11 
 
 the English embassies : they are the young men 
 that nothing can be made of at home. But I am 
 wandering widely from my business again, besides 
 doing no good, I feel ; only wasting my words. 
 Am I to tell your mother you expect her, or am I 
 to say you cannot receive her?" 
 
 " O, of course you must not say that ! I 
 must manage something, I suppose. I must make 
 Flore turn out of her room and sleep with one 
 of the housemaids; but she'll make a horrible 
 to-do about it, I am certain. Maids can't bear 
 being obliged to rough it." 
 
 " Rough it ! How can you talk such non- 
 sense, Cecily? It really provokes me to listen 
 to you. I believe, sooner than make Madame 
 Flore give up her room for a few nights, you 
 would let your mother and sister not only suffer 
 the discomfort ; but be at the expense of going to 
 an hotel." 
 
 Mrs. Ewart judged her niece rightly, I think. 
 Cecily Moncrieffe was a selfish, silly woman, dis- 
 liking any thing that caused her the least trouble, 
 or in any way put her out ; and the idea of her 
 mother and sister coming to her just at that time
 
 12 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 disturbed her arrangements more than she dared 
 to own. I say dared, for she had not quite thrown 
 off a sort of fear she entertained for her aunt ; a 
 fear inculcated in her from her infancy, through 
 her mother always making Mrs. Ewart a species of 
 bete noire that she threatened botli her children with 
 when she found them wanting in obedience a want 
 peculiarly developed in her eldest daughter Cecily. 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe had one or two little plans in 
 her head, the carrying out of which would be 
 somewhat difficult if Mrs. and Miss Singleton 
 were her guests at the same time with the 
 Countess Langen; but there seemed no help for 
 it if her mother really meant to leave England 
 the following week. She could not let them go 
 to an hotel. Her stupid husband even would 
 wonder what possessed her if she permitted such 
 a thing. As it was, he did not show any great par- 
 tiality for her friend the Countess, and he might 
 be glad of something to lay hold of that would 
 lessen their intimacy. No, there was nothing for 
 it but to run the risk of upsetting Mrs. Flore's 
 equanimity, and request her to share one of the 
 other servants' rooms for the tune being.
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 13 
 
 " I would not do any thing of the kind," said 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe, in reply to her aunt's accusation ; 
 " but you must know it isn't pleasant to be turned 
 out of one's room. Flore will tear my hair out of 
 my head by the handful every morning in revenge, 
 I am quite sure." 
 
 " Then it is a pity you do not get rid of her, if 
 she is that sort of person. But the fact is, Cecily, 
 you have fallen into that weak habit, that seems 
 daily to be a growing fashion, of being afraid of 
 your own servants. And that class are quick 
 enough to find out where they may encroach and 
 take advantage. I daresay, now, Flore thinks her- 
 self quite a fine lady." 
 
 " O, I am sure she does. You should see her 
 dressed when she is going out to see her friends. 
 Why, she is much grander than I ever am." 
 
 " Well, Cis, I suppose one might as well at- 
 tempt to teach you Hebrew, and expect you to 
 learn it, as try to put common sense into you, or 
 your maid either. So good-bye. Remember what 
 I have just been saying to you : if you act so as 
 to give the world the power of talking, the world 
 will not fail to take advantage of it. One's cha-
 
 14 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 racter is about the only possession we have that the 
 world seems anxious to look after for us. I know 
 you would never do any thing actually wrong ; 
 you would not be my brother's child if you did ; 
 but you will none the less get the credit of it if 
 you are not more careful. Don't let those goat- 
 bearded men have it in their power to boast of 
 their intimacy here. It will not sound well, my 
 dear. Good-bye once more." 
 
 " Good-bye, Mum," said Cis, totally unheeding 
 the lecture, as it was the wind-up of her aunt's 
 visit. " Give my love to mamma and Dacia. You 
 need not say any thing to them about the Countess 
 Langen ; she may not come, after all, whilst ^they 
 are here. And she sha'n't," added Mrs. MoncriefFe 
 to herself, when Mrs. Ewart was fairly out of 
 hearing, " if I can manage to put her off. It will 
 be horribly provoking if they are all here together ; 
 what with mamma's fretting, and Dacia's silly 
 primness and ignorance of the ways of the world, 
 Maria will be awfully bored." 
 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe looked at the clock ; it was 
 nearly four ; and she had ordered the carriage at 
 that hour ; so she hastened upstairs to dress. She
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 15 
 
 had some shopping to do, and one or two visits to 
 pay. Though London was empty as far as its 
 own particular world went, there were many in it 
 from the country, and amongst them some of 
 Cecily's friends that could date their knowledge 
 of her from her earliest childhood. 
 
 As Mrs. Moncrieffe drove away from her 
 house, she saw her husband within a little distance. 
 " I hope to goodness he has not met Mum, for 
 I don't want her to be talking to him about my 
 receiving too many foreigners : he hates them all 
 so he is such a fool !" was the instant thought 
 that crossed her mind ; not that she was one atom 
 afraid of her husband, but she did not want to be 
 worried by his talking to her, that was all. If 
 she had considered for a moment, however, she 
 would never have thought that Mrs. Ewart would 
 choose the street for the discussion of such a topic. 
 No ; Mum as she was called by her nieces was 
 much too business-like to do any thing in a hurry 
 or on impulse. If the thought had occurred to 
 her that it would be advisable to tell James Mon- 
 crieffe he did not take proper care of his wife, she 
 would weigh the subject well before acting on the
 
 16 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 idea ; but she had no intention of doing any thing 
 of the kind. She was essentially a clear-sighted 
 woman, and therefore not likely to be guilty of 
 such a piece of folly as telling a husband a silly 
 weak young man into the bargain that his wife 
 wanted looking after. She might talk to Cecily 
 herself; but she would do no more. 
 
 Mrs. Ewart was the only sister of the late John 
 Singleton of Christchurch-park in Cheshire, whose 
 death some few months back had rendered her 
 an object of greater interest to his widow than she 
 had ever been before. For Mrs. Ewart had money 
 to leave, and she had no nearer relations than 
 Cecily Moncrieffe and Dacia Singleton ; and none 
 dearer than the latter. So Mrs. Singleton hoped 
 her children if not herself might benefit by it. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton, a woman of weak tempera- 
 ment, not over-strong constitution, and terribly 
 dependent on this world's goods for comfort, was 
 left with a bare four hundred a year at her hus- 
 band's death ; and this to her, with her extravagant 
 habits and tastes, was actual penury that is, the 
 thought of it only ; for as yet the actual trial of 
 living on it had not been put in practice. She had
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 17 
 
 never had but two children. The eldest, Cecily, 
 had married, some five years back, the HonoiTr- 
 able James Moncrieffe, son of Lord Stretton ; 
 and though a younger son, he was richer than 
 that unlucky and much-despised race generally 
 are, for he inherited his mother's fortune, and she 
 was an heiress, though only a Miss Thompson. 
 Her youngest, Dacia, was still unmarried, and 
 with her. But Dacia was not her mother's 
 favourite ; and yet now, in her hour of trouble, 
 she was the most loving and gentle of the two 
 daughters. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton remembered when Dacia was a 
 child, quite a little child, between six and seven 
 years of age, overhearing a conversation between 
 her and her father. John Singleton was sitting 
 in the dusk, with his little daughter on his knee, 
 and had asked her that foolish question some fool- 
 ish parents do sometimes ask their children when 
 they are jealous of their young love : 
 
 " Who does Dacia love best in the world?" 
 " You, darling papa !" replied the child, throw- 
 ing her little fat dimpled arms round her father's 
 neck, and kissing him. "You, you, you; but 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 DACIA S1NGLETOX. 
 
 that's a secret, papa, because, you see, it might 
 make mamma unhappy if she knew it." 
 
 And so from that moment Mrs. Singleton loved 
 her eldest daughter better than poor Dacia, and 
 John Singleton clung more fondly to his youngest 
 child. And this love grew and increased, till Dacia 
 became his chief, almost only, object of interest in 
 life. Not but what he was an affectionate husband, 
 and also fond enough of Cecily. He had married 
 for love ; but he was sadly worn and torn by his 
 wife's incessant complaining. She was delicate, 
 no doubt, but nothing more ; yet she made herself 
 out a terrible martyr, and was never well. She 
 might be seen at any moment with smelling-salts 
 in one hand and the other gathering a Brussels- 
 lace shawl around her, and holding it clasped over 
 her chest. A shawl, even a lace one, in the day- 
 time, when worn as in-door apparel, always gives 
 one a notion of the wearer having been ill, if not 
 actually so at the time. 
 
 Another tie that united in closer bonds of 
 affection the mother with her eldest child Avas 
 their similarity, not alone of face, but disposition. 
 Both were weak. Mrs. Singleton's weakness
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 19 
 
 showed itself in giving herself up to every descrip- 
 tion of fancy about her health ; her daughter's in 
 thinking herself irresistible to all the world. Both 
 had their failings increased by their being un- 
 consciously, perhaps, but none the less surely 
 fostered by those around them. John Singleton, 
 up to the hour of his death (and Dacia still), gave 
 in to Mrs. Singleton's whims and fancies in every 
 possible manner ; pitying and soothing by turns, till 
 of course she thought herself the most unhappy, 
 hardly-dealt-by woman in creation to be doomed 
 to such terrible health. Cecily Moncrieffe had the 
 male portion of the London world at her feet, 
 assuring her that her attractions and charms were 
 greater far than any other woman's ; that they 
 could not exist without occasionally basking in the 
 sunshine of her presence, &c. &c. ; and she believed 
 them. Nothing further need be said to prove how 
 weak she was. 
 
 Mrs. Ewart was perhaps the only being who 
 ever told either the one or the other the truth, and 
 they disliked her accordingly. Dislike is perhaps 
 hardly the right term to use ; they did not dislike 
 lier, but they disliked her presence, unless, indeed,
 
 20 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 they stood in need of sound advice or sensible 
 opinions ; then they were both of them wise enough 
 to know that there was no one could serve their 
 purpose better, or so well as downright, plain- 
 spoken Mrs. Ewart. Dacia Singleton was fond of 
 her aunt; she loved her because she knew her 
 father had done so ; and what her father did, she 
 always endeavoured to do. 
 
 It was Dacia who had given Mrs. Ewart the 
 sobriquet of Mum. It was " Aunt Mum" first ; 
 but at last the aunt was dropped, and she became 
 simply " Mum ;" even her brother and sister-in- 
 law frequently adopted the child's nickname. It 
 was easier than Ursula, the name Mrs. Ewart re- 
 joiced in. It was 110 wonder, therefore, Mum was 
 attached to Dacia, and gave many a thought to 
 her altered position. 
 
 John Singleton had lived up to the very extent 
 of his fortune : his own tastes were expensive, and 
 his wife, without being actually extravagant, frit- 
 tered away money as recklessly as if she had an 
 unlimited fortune at her back; the consequence 
 was, that at his death there was positively nothing 
 but what the estate was charged with, that is, four
 
 AUNT AND NIECE. 21 
 
 bundled a year for his wife, and one hundred a 
 year for each younger child ; so Cecily who, how- 
 ever, did not require it and Dacia had that, but 
 nothing more. 
 
 It was one of Mrs. Singleton's great grievances 
 now that she had no son. She looked on it as 
 a personal injury ; she considered it a hardship 
 she need never have been subjected to. During 
 her husband's life she never gave the matter a 
 thought, nor did she waste one wish concerning 
 it ; but when he died, and she came to the full 
 understanding of her altered position, and then re- 
 collected that owning a son would have saved her 
 all money-matter troubles at least she thought it 
 would she was excessively indignant at not having 
 had one. Poor Mrs. Singleton ! she was not 
 fitted to buffet and fight with adversity. It did 
 seem hard that after six-and-twenty years of ease 
 and affluence she should have to tread the rough 
 uneven road of poverty ; but so it was. 
 
 It is easier to give up good habits than bad 
 ones ; it is easier to fall in to expensive ways than 
 to learn thrift. We can so much better bear the 
 reverse of fortune when it happens to revoke
 
 22 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 poverty instead of wealth. Yet it is not always 
 the principal adjuncts of wealth that are the ob- 
 jects we most miss : a smaller house, fewer horses, 
 a less number of servants, all these may be en- 
 dured ; but it is the refinement over every thing 
 that gets brushed off; it is that common coarse 
 hue which takes its place, a woman feels so hard 
 to put up with: men are less sensitive on that 
 score.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PACKING UP. 
 
 THERE were usually two sides to most questions 
 that Mrs. Singleton, as a rule, considered had but 
 one ; but I hardly think any one would quarrel 
 with her for maintaining her present case to be 
 completely one-sided. It was a sorry position to 
 be left in, after what had been; there lay the 
 strength of her misfortunes, that till now she had 
 been one of God's favoured creatures. True, she 
 never admitted it, never seemed even to be 
 aware of it, till all was taken from her that had 
 hitherto rendered her life as a smooth stream flow- 
 ing on in uninterrupted ease ; but now, when the 
 rocks and stones intercepted her course, she looked 
 back with true appreciation of her lost blessings. 
 
 It was a glorious afternoon ; the mellow, soft- 
 ened shades of autumn were spreading over the 
 rich wooded country surrounding Christchurch-
 
 24 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 park. The hill-side and* valley alike wore that 
 golden hue approaching evening brings; the set- 
 ting sun was reflected by a deep-red light on the 
 trellised windows of the old house, every pane in 
 which seemed to be illumined by its own separate 
 light. All was bright and beautiful without, but 
 within there was another colouring over every 
 thing. Disorder and confusion reigned supreme, 
 and no one seemed to dispute its authority. 
 
 In a room facing the south, and looking down 
 on a flower-garden that would have tempted any 
 one even not an enthusiastic admirer of Flora 
 to wander amidst its sweet-scented, brilliant-co- 
 loured beds, sat, or rather lay, Mrs. Singleton; 
 for she rarely sat except to her meals. She was a 
 tall, fair, aristocratic-looking woman, with a droop- 
 ing look about her, as if she were not strong 
 enough to bear her own weight. As a girl she 
 was graceful and elegant, with sufficient beauty 
 to attract universal admiration. Her features 
 were more delicate than small, and her blue soft 
 eyes had a wearied expression ; she opened them 
 as if it were a labour to do so, and then instantly 
 let the lids droop again, as if the fatigue of keeping
 
 PACKING UP. 25 
 
 them open was too great. As a high-coloured 
 flower pales from being kept in a room, so had 
 Mrs. Singleton's complexion become peculiarly 
 white and delicate ; she had not been outside the 
 gates of the old park since her husband's corpse 
 had been carried through them to his resting- 
 place in the little quiet churchyard just beyond. 
 
 She was dressed now in the deep mourning 
 of a widow, with her fair hair drawn back from 
 her face giving her a somewhat wan look and, 
 hidden beneath that terribly-disfiguring head-dress, 
 a widow's cap. She wore a black crape shawl, 
 thrown over her shoulders, and her never-absent 
 appendage, a smelling-bottle, in her hand. 
 
 The room was, or rather used to be, Mrs. Sin- 
 gleton's boudoir; for there was little now to de- 
 note it as any room in particular. The tables 
 were stripped of all ornaments, and, in their place, 
 torn newspapers, pieces of twine, long strips of 
 straw, and dust in abundance, were seen. The 
 mantelpiece was totally bare, with the exception 
 of a gum-bottle, which had been placed there for 
 safety, and two or three paper-matches. There 
 is nothing renders a room more unfurnished or
 
 26 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 desolate-looking than a mantelpiece devoid of its 
 usual appurtenances. On a marble console which 
 faced the fireplace, and stood beneath a strip of 
 looking-glass, of the same width as the table, and 
 reaching up to the ceiling, was a small stone bottle 
 with ink, and a pen steeping in it ; beside it lay 
 a quantity of adhesive labels, ready for directing. 
 One or two cases stood on the velvet-pile carpet, 
 well packed, containing the various nicknacks 
 of which the room was so totally destitute. Each 
 article was enveloped in straw : hence the stray 
 shreds that were seen lying about tables and chairs 
 and on the thick soft carpet. 
 
 Bending over one of these was a tall, fair, 
 lithesome girl, whose age might be between nine- 
 teen and twenty. 1 do not think it would be pos- 
 sible to see any tiling under heaven more glori- 
 ously beautiful than Dacia Singleton. And yet, 
 in what consisted her perfect beauty it would be 
 difficult to say; for artists might cavil over the 
 symmetry of her features, amateurs might dis- 
 agree as to the proportions of the short upper lip 
 and the square low forehead; yet withal she was 
 one that the eye rarely has a chance of resting on
 
 PACKING UP. 27 
 
 her equal. I will try to depict her to you as she 
 \vas then, but I know it can be but a sorry copy 
 of the original that I can give you. Rather above 
 the average height, with a slight figure, but giving 
 no signs of the fragility you saw in her mother's, 
 yet soft and flexible. Her complexion fair and 
 dazzling from its transparent purity, and showing 
 the blood beneath if aught occasioned its agita- 
 tion. Her eyes large and full, of a dark yet bril- 
 liant blue ; her eyebrows perfectly straight, a nar- 
 row, thin, dark line, contrasting strangely with 
 her bright golden hair ; her eyelashes long and 
 curled, casting a shadow on the cheek beneath; 
 her nose straight and small, with thin clear nos- 
 trils, showing the red tinge that coloured them, if 
 she sat so that a cross-light was cast over her; 
 her chiselled lips, her mouth generally slightly 
 open, displaying partly her small white and per- 
 fectly even teeth whiter from the contrast with 
 her bright crimson lips; a mass of fair waving 
 hair, drawn off her face and twisted altogether in 
 one plain simple twist at the back of her well- 
 shaped head. Such was Dacia Singleton. She 
 was dressed in a black dress, which perhaps was
 
 28 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 as becoming as any thing to her fair young face, 
 though it would be a strange dress that she could 
 look otherwise than beautiful in. 
 
 She was busy trying to pack a delicate Vene- 
 tian glass in a manner sufficiently secure to save 
 her any anxiety as to its ultimate safety. She 
 had already encased it in wadding. 
 
 " Dacia, how can you go on doing that dread- 
 ful work ! It surely is not your place to be pack- 
 ing up the china and glass," said Mrs. Singleton, 
 both languidly and captiously, inhaling the salts 
 from her bottle as she spoke. 
 
 "It is only your glass, mamma, I am putting 
 in ; you asked me to see to it, you know," replied 
 Dacia, continuing her endeavours to fix in the 
 fragile object securely. 
 
 "You make such a fuss always about any 
 thing you are asked to do," said her mother, " that 
 I always regret afterwards having made a request. 
 I suppose you wish your aunt to arrive whilst you 
 are still there fiddling with the straw, so that you 
 may tell her / asked you to do it." 
 
 "Mamma!" exclaimed Dacia, turning round 
 towards her mother with a proud, disdainful look ;
 
 PACKING UP. 29 
 
 not at her mother was it intended, but at the 
 idea of her being thought capable of a mean 
 action. "You know it is at all times a pleasure 
 for me to do any thing for you ; and that I would 
 sooner cut my tongue out than either complain 
 or appear to do so." The rich colour rose to 
 her cheeks as she spoke. " I merely reminded 
 you it was yourself asked me to pack the little 
 glass in, because you said it was not my place 
 to" 
 
 "There, there do stop, Dacia. My head 
 aches already, and your arguing will not improve 
 it," 
 
 Mrs. Singleton laid her head back softly against 
 the sofa-cushion, and closed her eyes, giving any 
 one the impression she really could not bear any 
 more conversation. Dacia went on with what she 
 was about, unheeding her mother's remarks; in- 
 deed, she was pretty well accustomed to them. 
 She rarely did any thing without her mother see- 
 ing something amiss in it, even if it were, as in the 
 present case, her own suggestions or wishes being 
 earned out. 
 
 The glass was packed in now, and Dacia went
 
 30 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 towards the window that had a side view of the 
 old oak trees forming an avenue, which lined the 
 road leading from the lodge to the house. All 
 was still ; no appearance yet of a carriage, no ram- 
 bling of wheels in the distance. Dacia looked at 
 her watch: it wanted a quarter to five that is, 
 according to her time but she was anxious to 
 know correctly ; and though nothing would ever 
 induce her to admit that the ridiculous little piece 
 of mechanism she wore at her side ever erred, she 
 had an inward conviction there might be ten 
 minutes' laziness in its movements. 
 
 " Mamma, what time is it by your watch ?" 
 
 " Haven't you got on your own ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but I wanted to know if I am right. I 
 forgot to wind it up the other day, and I set it by 
 guess, so I am not sure that it is correct." 
 
 " As you are not starting on a journey by rail- 
 way, I daresay it is correct enough." 
 
 Dacia was silent ; she would not ask her mother 
 again ; but presently she left the room, and walk- 
 ing along the east side of the house, came to a 
 window that looked into the stable-yard, where, 
 above the coach-house, was a huge-faced clock.
 
 PACKING UP. 31 
 
 This Dacia knew old Fenwick kept to railway 
 time. One of poor John Singleton's good points 
 had been great punctuality ; and Fenwick, like all 
 over whom he had any authority, was well trained. 
 
 " She might be here," thought Miss Singleton, 
 as she slowly retraced her steps. Before she 
 reached her mother's room the welcome sound of 
 the carnage-wheels grating over the gravelled 
 road met her ear. She bounded down the stairs, 
 and stood at the hall-door in time to meet Mrs. 
 Ewart with a warm embrace. 
 
 " Well, dear child, how are you ?" said her 
 aunt, looking up at the bright beautiful face, 
 which appeared more lovely than ever from the 
 flush of pleasure that overspread her features. 
 
 " So delighted you are come, Mum !" said her 
 niece. 
 
 " Well, I suppose I must take that for an 
 answer to my question ; and how is your mother f 
 
 " The same as usual ; she is complaining of 
 headache this afternoon." 
 
 " Always something," muttered Mrs. Ewart to 
 herself; and then turning to Dacia she said, glanc- 
 ing around the old hall, and then across it into the
 
 32 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 drawing-room, the door of which stood open, " It 
 looks desolate child, doesn't it ?" 
 
 " O, it is dreadful ! I cannot bear to go in to 
 any of the rooms. I wish we were away now ; the 
 pain of leaving can hardly exceed the pain of stay- 
 ing, as things are." 
 
 " I too shah 1 be glad when you are gone, as go 
 you must. Tell me, Dacia, how do you like the 
 idea of li ving abroad ?" asked Mrs. Ewart, as they 
 now sat together in the room allotted to her during 
 her temporary stay. 
 
 "Well enough, Mum. I don't much care 
 where we go, as we have to leave this dear, dear 
 old place." 
 
 "There is no use, my dear, in fretting over 
 circumstances which admit of no change ; rather 
 try and forget the past than dwell on it, if it is to 
 cause you unhappiness." 
 
 "It is so hateful to think of other people coming 
 here. I don't think I should care so much about 
 going if no one else could live here." 
 
 " That is pure selfishness, Dacia, and not h'ke 
 you." 
 
 " O yes, Mum, it is ; I am horribly selfish. But
 
 PACKING UP. 33 
 
 never mind, I would rather you did not believe 
 me," she added, smiling. 
 
 " And how does your mother like the prospect 
 of leaving England?" 
 
 (t Sometimes she complains terribly of the hard- 
 ship of being driven away from her own country ; 
 but if ever I say any thing against it, she instantly 
 appears to think that no place in England would 
 suit her, and that I am a most disagreeable being 
 for raising shadows over the future. Still, as I 
 
 O * 
 
 told you, she won't fix the day, and yet she knows 
 we must leave next week." 
 
 " To judge from the bare-looking rooms, and 
 the quantity of cases, you seem to have every 
 thing packed." 
 
 " Yes ; as far as that goes, we are ready." 
 
 " I saw Cecily yesterday ; but I will tell you all 
 about her presently. I had better go and see your 
 mother at once, or she will be affronted, and ac- 
 cuse me of neglecting her." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton was in the same position you 
 saw her in just now when her sister-in-law and 
 daughter came in ; she opened her eyes slowly, as if 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 the eyelids were loaded, and required great exer- 
 tion to raise them. 
 
 " How do you do, Barbara ? I half expected 
 to find you out this lovely afternoon; surely it 
 would do you good to take a drive! I wish you 
 had driven to the station to meet me." 
 
 " You, who are always in robust health," re- 
 plied Mrs. Singleton, after giving Mrs. Ewart a 
 languid welcome, " cannot understand what it is 
 to suffer as I do. I am not equal to any great 
 exercise, as you know." The salts were here put 
 into requisition. If Mrs. Singleton was ever vexed 
 or put out of humour not by any means a rare 
 occurrence, especially with Mrs. Ewart she in- 
 variably had recourse to her smelling-bottle. 
 
 " I don't call driving much of an exercise, how- 
 ever. I have come down for a day or two to see 
 if I can be of any service to you ; but it appears to 
 me as if you were quite prepared for your journey. 
 What day do you propose going ?" 
 
 "You had better ask Dacia; she does every 
 thing and orders every body, me as well as others." 
 
 Dacia had left the room ; she had gone to have 
 some tea prepared without any further delay. Five
 
 PACKING UP. 35 
 
 o'clock was the hour Mrs. Singleton always took 
 it, and it was now nearly half-past. Dacia had 
 almost forgotten it, in the midst of her pleasure at 
 Mrs. Ewart's arrival, and she feared her mother 
 attacking her for her neglect. As there was no 
 housekeeper now to see to such matters, she was 
 supposed to do so. All the servants, with the ex- 
 ception of the very few it was absolutely neces- 
 sary to retain till they left themselves, had been 
 dismissed. 
 
 " My dear Barbara, pray talk reasonably. 
 Dacia would no more dream of naming a day 
 for your leaving here than I should. You must 
 fix the time; and it seems to me you will have 
 to do so quickly, as next week brings you up to 
 the period of the Ashley Singletons' arrival, and 
 you have declined being here as their guests." 
 
 " Of course I have. I cannot think how they 
 could offer me such an insult as to propose such 
 a thing." And Mrs. Singleton's pale cheek coloured 
 with anger. 
 
 " Then would it not be better for you to leave 
 next Wednesday?" 
 
 " Why Wednesday ? What are you so anxious
 
 36 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 to huriy me away for ? You are as bad as 
 Dacia." 
 
 " Why, you must go, and you must fix a 
 time." 
 
 " Well, there is no such hurry. It will do to 
 fix the day next week." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton closed her eyes and conversa- 
 tion together. Nothing more was said till Dacia 
 appeared, followed by a woman-servant carrying 
 in a tray, with three cups of tea and as many 
 slices of thin bread-and-butter. 
 
 " This is having my tea at five o'clock !" said 
 Mrs. Singleton, raising herself up and slipping her 
 feet down to the ground. "But it's like every 
 thing else : nothing is thought of for me ; nothing 
 done to give me any comfort, even in trifles." 
 
 " Mamma, I am very sorry," said Dacia, hand- 
 ing her mother the plate of bread-and-butter. 
 " The truth is, I almost forgot it ; but it's only 
 half an hour late." 
 
 " Only half an hour ! Wait till you feel as I 
 do, Dacia, and then you will know what it is to 
 be kept waiting half an ^hour even for a cup of 
 tea."
 
 PACKING UP. 37 
 
 The tea was drank, and found fault with by 
 Mrs. Singleton, praised by Mrs. Ewart, and then 
 sent away. 
 
 " Now tell me all about Cecily," said Dacia, 
 taking a stool and sitting down, with her elbow 
 resting on the edge of the sofa, and facing where 
 Mrs. Ewart sat. 
 
 "What about Cecily?" asked Mrs. Singleton 
 fretfully. 
 
 " Mum saw her yesterday," replied Dacia. 
 
 " You will probably have a letter from her to- 
 morrow," said Mrs. Ewart. " She sent her love 
 to you, and wished to know what day she might 
 expect you, as she takes it for granted you will 
 sleep in town on your road." 
 
 " Of course I must sleep in town. Do you 
 take me for a horse, that I could make such a 
 journey as I have before me without resting on 
 the road ? Besides, I have several things to do in 
 London." 
 
 " I shall be glad to spend a few days with 
 Cecily," said Dacia : " we see so little of each other 
 now, and are likely to see less for the future." 
 
 " A few days ! Eeally, Dacia, you think of no
 
 38 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 one but yourself. How can I remain a few days 
 at this season in London, when the fogs are so 
 thick that the very thought of them produced a 
 difficulty in my breathing ! One day will be quite 
 sufficient for all I have to do." 
 
 " I thought there were no fogs now," said 
 her daughter; "that they only began in No- 
 vember." 
 
 " Then you thought wrong," said Mrs. Sin- 
 gleton, closing her eyes and inhaling her salts. 
 
 " Well, right or wrong, it does not much sig- 
 nify," put in !Mrs. Ewart. u The first point to 
 settle is the time you intend to arrive there, not 
 when you leave it, as that is a matter quite open 
 to a change, if you should so fancy. But from here 
 vou must go, and that next week ; so it seems to 
 me, as I before said, Wednesday will be the best 
 day ; and if you decide on it, I will return to town 
 to-morrow ; for as I find I can be of no use here, I 
 may be elsewhere." 
 
 I think Wednesday would be the best day," 
 said Dacia, " for then mamma would have Thurs- 
 day in town ; and on Friday we might cross to 
 Dunkerque."
 
 PACKING UP. 39 
 
 " Cross to Dunkerque ! What do you mean, 
 Dacia?" 
 
 Mrs. Singleton had listened to the proposed 
 arrangement any thing but contentedly ; and yet 
 she knew that, if left to her, she should never 
 decide the matter at all. 
 
 " She means what she says, I suppose," replied 
 Mrs. Ewart for Dacia, beginning to lose patience 
 with Mrs. Singleton's fretful contrariness. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton generally knocked under a little 
 when any one spoke in a decided tone to her. So 
 she replied, 
 
 " You may settle to leave here on Wednesday, 
 and London on Friday ; but nothing shall induce 
 me to go direct from London to Dunkerque. I 
 would not undertake such a voyage for any in- 
 ducement ; so do not propose it." 
 
 One point and that the main one being 
 carried, Mrs. Ewart was willing enough to let Mrs. 
 Singleton take any route she chose for reaching 
 her destination. 
 
 " But why you should leave to-morrow," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Singleton, " I am sure I cannot tell. 
 It was not worth while your coming only to stay a
 
 40 DACTA SINGLETON. 
 
 few hours. But no one cares how inconvenienced 
 I am, or how much is left on my shoulders to 
 see to." 
 
 " Mamma, I will do every thing. You need 
 not move from your sofa, unless you like." 
 
 " And I will gladly remain, if I can be of any 
 
 t 
 
 comfort or use," said Mrs. Ewart. 
 
 ' 
 
 " Unless you stay and go up to town with us, 
 I don't see any good you can do. There would be 
 some use in that." 
 
 " O, do, Mum !" said Dacia. 
 
 " Of course I will, my dear, if you wish it." 
 
 " Yes, that's just like every one : if Dacia 
 wishes it ! My wishes have no influence." 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, Barbara. It is for you, 
 and on your account solely, I shall stay. Dacia 
 does not want me." 
 
 " Yes, I do, Mum dear." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, child, do." 
 
 After dinner, when Mrs. Singleton, -who had 
 done full justice to some partridges a present 
 from a neighbouring squire but yet maintained 
 she had no appetite and could eat nothing, had 
 retired to her sofa for her usual nap, ftlrs. Ewart
 
 PACKING UP. 41 
 
 and Dacia talked over, as far as they could see their 
 way, the plans for the future. 
 
 " You must write at once to Cecily, my dear, 
 and tell her to expect you on Wednesday. Your 
 mother may be disposed to change her mind again, 
 if we do not put it out of her power." 
 
 " I wish mamma would stay over till the Mon- 
 day ; one day with Cis is so little. Besides, we 
 shall be out the whole of it, shopping." 
 
 " Perhaps, when once in Cecily's comfortable 
 house, your mother may be only too willing to 
 stay. I think, however, you had better say no- 
 thing more on the subject. What shopping have 
 you to do ?" 
 
 " Commissions for Mrs. Percival. She wrote 
 and asked mamma of course saying if it was not 
 too much trouble, and so on to get her some 
 flannel, cotton, needles, pins 0, no end of things ; 
 and amongst them a cheese and a black alpaca 
 dress. She says they are so prized in France 
 isn't it strange ? and here they are thought so 
 common." 
 
 " Not a bit strange. They are scarce in 
 France, and, like every thing else, valued accord-
 
 42 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 ingly. Does Mrs. Percival say all is ready for 
 you?" 
 
 "Well, so far, that slie lias seen several apart- 
 ments that she says will suit ; but she recommends 
 our going first to the hotel, and then choosing 
 what we like best ourselves ; and I am sure she 
 is right, for mamma would never be satisfied with 
 any thing any one else chose for her. She says 
 she has a capital servant ready." 
 
 " That is a great thing. I wish your mother 
 would leave Maxwell behind her; she will find 
 her more trouble than comfort. She will never 
 put up with French ways and French people, 
 especially in a provincial town. Paris would suit 
 her, I daresay, but Dunkerque never ; I am satis- 
 fied of that." 
 
 " Do you think it will be so very disagreeable, 
 Mum f ' asked Dacia, looking a little anxious. 
 
 " To a selfish uneducated woman, who prides 
 herself on her fine dress, and likes to boast of the 
 rich people in whose family she resides yes; to 
 a young girl with resources within herself, and the 
 great object in view of doing right, and fulfilling 
 an anxious and perhaps trying duty towards a
 
 PACKING UP. 43 
 
 mother ill-fitted to act for herself, it will not be 
 disagreeable. It will be pleasanter far than either 
 living in a small house in London or a cottage 
 in the country, after all you have hitherto been 
 accustomed to." 
 
 Dacia sighed. She did not think it sounded 
 very pleasant.
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 
 
 THE Moncrieffes lived in Hertford-street ; a plea- 
 sant house enough, though somewhat noisily situ- 
 ated, and certainly not intended for accommodating 
 three ladies and two lady's-maids over and above 
 the ordinary family, to say nothing of the huge 
 amount of luggage amongst them that had to 
 be taken in also. Still they were all there, and 
 they all declared themselves perfectly comfortable. 
 Perhaps they were so; at all events they could 
 hardly do less than assert it. Some one must 
 have been thoroughly uncomfortable, that is per- 
 fectly certain, and I think Flore was the victim on 
 the occasion. 
 
 The Countess Langen had arrived the day 
 before the Singletons were expected, and Mrs. 
 Moncrieffe apologised to her friend for the some- 
 what meagre accommodation her maid would have
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 45 
 
 to put up with. The grande dame herself had the 
 spare room allotted her, Cecily thinking it better 
 to put her mother and sister in Flore's room than 
 her other guest. One may take liberties with one's 
 mother and sister one cannot do with a fashionable 
 friend, especially if she is a countess, even though 
 she be but a foreign countess. 
 
 But it was not the want of room that in any 
 way caused vexation to Cecily Moncrieffe ; it was 
 the presence of her mother and sister just at that 
 moment. She would have made them welcome to 
 her house for a month of Sundays at any other 
 period ; but at this particular time of all others 
 she preferred their absence. However, she hoped 
 they would go on the Friday, as Dacia in her 
 letter had informed her they would. Mrs. Mon- 
 crieffe's vanity was in one sense innocent enough ; 
 but it gave rise to silly jealousies within her, and 
 she disliked any one who might chance to cross 
 her in the path she trod for admiration only. She 
 well knew her sister's superior beauty ; and when 
 Madame Langen was her guest she knew there 
 would be quite enough to do to hold her own, 
 without Dacia's attractions to contend against as
 
 46 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 well. She had something to gain too at least 
 she thought so by waving prudence in the Coun- 
 tess's presence, but none with her sister. There- 
 fore for the moment she became a horrible nui- 
 sance to her. She was fond enough of her if they 
 were alone at dull old Christchurch, but in Lon- 
 don she by no means suited her ; and it was not 
 entirely on account of her male friends, but she 
 even feared her influence over the Countess Lan- 
 gen. It was downright jealousy; so the whole 
 matter was a source of great annoyance to her. 
 
 She could not act either so freely in Dacia's 
 presence. She would have to put a bridle on her 
 tongue, and be cautious how she talked of cer- 
 tain people and their actions. She could not 
 tell the Countess of this man's admiration and 
 that one's infatuation, and boast of her hun- 
 dred-and-one conquests ; and of such conversation 
 Cecily Moncrieffe never wearied; but she knew 
 right well Dacia would disapprove of it, and pro- 
 bably tell her so. Then, again, her mother wor- 
 ried her with her constant complaining of herself 
 and her ailments, and the neglect she met with 
 from all.
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 47 
 
 The day they arrived Mrs. Moncrieffe had in- 
 vited half-a-dozen men to dinner; one or two of 
 them being Mrs. Ewart's escaped convicts, other- 
 wise attaches to different embassies, that were in 
 town doing duty whilst their chiefs were taking 
 their holidays at some of the German watering- 
 places, or wandering over the moors in search of 
 grouse, that most of them, if they spoke the truth, 
 would rather eat, leaving to others the trouble of 
 shooting. 
 
 "Such a pack of women," said Cecily, "we 
 could not possibly sit down to dinner without a 
 few black coats by our sides to enliven us a little. 
 It is so horribly dull without men." 
 
 Dacia looked up. " Surely James would have 
 been enough to enliven us, if we required it ; but 
 I don't think we should have been dull, do you ?" 
 she asked, turning to Countess Langen. 
 
 "No, indeed; and I hardly think I should 
 ever be dull with your gay lively sister to talk 
 to." 
 
 " O, that's all nonsense," replied Cecily smil- 
 ing and pleased; "you know you hate women's 
 society."
 
 48 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " I !" exclaimed the Countess, in a well-coun- 
 terfeited tone of dismay, if it were counterfeit. 
 
 " Yes ; you, to be sure." 
 
 But there was no time to argue the point 
 further, for in walked at this moment two young 
 men, who had been duly announced by names 
 which, if they really possessed them, must have 
 been the most original that were ever heard. 
 They were soon followed by two more; then 
 came one, and lastly another, who, with the two 
 others, require a few words related concerning 
 them. 
 
 Let all honour be paid to our neighbours : so 
 we will give precedence to Monsieur de Monleon, 
 unpaid attache to the French embassy. Small in 
 stature, but possessing a peculiarly handsome face 
 with fine delicately cut features, a dark pale com- 
 plexion and jet-black hair not cropped a la con- 
 vict and moustache, Jules de Monleon not only 
 thought no woman could look upon him without 
 being captivated, but too frequently found such 
 to be the case. The result was, the man became 
 conceited, and failed to hide it. He was, by the 
 way, at this period devoted to Mrs. Moncrieffe;
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 49 
 
 and Mrs. Moncrieffe, in return, felt a glow of 
 intense satisfaction when she thought she had 
 secured to herself the admiration of the fascinating 
 diplomatist. 
 
 Kobert Reeves a tall, broad-shouldered, good- 
 looking man, verging on fifty ; strong, upright, and 
 good-tempered ; neither fair nor dark, but that me- 
 dium complexion which is so thoroughly English 
 was by profession a doctor. One of those, how- 
 ever, who possess none but healthy patients, and 
 those all women. A man would as soon have 
 thought of sending for Robert Reeves if he were 
 ill as he would have of applying a dozen fleas 
 instead of a dozen leeches in case of inflamma- 
 tion. Amongst his patients Mr. Reeves reckoned 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe, and she had the utmost faith in 
 him ; if her shoe pinched her, he was consulted in 
 order to suggest a remedy for the evil. I don't 
 think Cis ever had any more serious cause to lay 
 before him for opinion ; yet she was always send- 
 ing for him, always wanting something that no one 
 but Mr. Reeves could possibly do for her. So 
 Robert Reeves was known by the household to 
 be a favoured guest in Hertford-street. 
 
 VOL. L E
 
 50 
 
 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 Henry Marsden, the last of the guests we need 
 to give a sketch of, was opposite in all respects to 
 the doctor or the diplomatist. He was tall, very 
 slight, very fair, and looked, in truth, what he was, 
 the inheritor of what many of England's sons are 
 heir to consumption. He was hardly more than 
 five-and-twenty ; but the slight stoop, occasioned 
 originally from weakness, and now become ha- 
 bitual, added apparently to his age. He had a 
 fine face, a broad open brow, with his fair curly 
 hair well brushed off from it. His sleepy blue 
 eyes had a tender loving look in them that told of 
 a kind and gentle disposition. His mouth, some- 
 what large, was hidden by his moustache, and the 
 thin, hollow cheeks were covered by ample whis- 
 kers. He might have passed for Mrs. Singleton's 
 son, there was so much between them that was 
 similar. It may have been that which caused 
 Dacia to look up at him once or twice, as he stood 
 between the table and fireplace talking to her 
 sister. At all events her eyes wandered towards 
 him more than once; and he, noticing the beautiful 
 face that seemingly was attracted for some reason 
 to him, asked Mrs. Moncriefie who she was, and
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 51 
 
 then, on hearing, requested immediately to be pre- 
 sented to her. 
 
 Dacia Singleton noticed that as he passed by 
 the Countess of Langen, and turned to her to 
 make some commonplace apology for doing so, he 
 gave a sudden and amazed start, which, however, 
 was but momentary, and he the next instant was 
 by Dacia' s side, making banale remarks about the 
 pleasure he felt in becoming acquainted with Mrs. 
 Moncrieffe's sister. There was something, how- 
 ever, very absent in his manner, and Dacia found 
 his eyes constantly turned to where the Countess 
 of Langen was sitting. She wondered what it 
 could be that so attracted him; certainly it was 
 not admiration she saw written on his face, it was 
 more astonishment a great deal. 
 
 " You have known my sister long ?" asked 
 Miss Singleton, by way of something to say. It 
 is difficult to keep a conversation from nagging 
 with a person of whose tastes, pursuits, and indi- 
 vidual history we are totally ignorant. 
 
 " I have known Moncrieffe since we were boys, 
 but your sister I met for the first time last year 
 at Wildbad. You know, however, English people
 
 52 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 become better acquainted in three weeks at one 
 of those small continental watering-places than 
 they do in three years if they only meet in Lon- 
 don society. So I suppose I may say, if I have 
 not known your sister long, I know her well." 
 
 Dacia looked up at the pleasant, kindly face 
 that was bent down towards her ; looked up to see 
 whether he meant more than he actually said : 
 she fancied the tone implied it. If he did know 
 her sister well, she feared he must think her both 
 vain and frivolous; and Wildbad, or any other 
 Bad, was, she thought, from all she had heard, the 
 very worst place for Cecily to be seen in. But 
 at that moment Henry Marsden thought nothing 
 but of the exquisite beauty of that upturned face, 
 thinking and unconsciously wondering whether 
 she too, like the rest of her sex, was as frail as 
 she was fair. But if he knew Cecily Moncrieffe, 
 he certainly did not know Dacia Singleton, or 
 such a question could never have presented itself 
 concerning one who was as pure in thought and 
 deed as the fresh-fallen snow. 
 
 When dinner was announced Henry Marsden, 
 without any previous instructions to that effect,
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 53 
 
 offered his arm to Miss Singleton, and together 
 they went downstairs. Mr. Reeves was appor- 
 tioned to Mrs. Singleton. I don't know whether 
 he felt pleased, but I know she did ; for she was 
 able to pour out her bodily troubles to one who, 
 if he did not offer an attentive, at all events had 
 an experienced, ear. James Moncrieffe took the 
 Countess of Langen, who by a simple manoeuvre 
 succeeded in placing herself on the same side as 
 Henry Marsden, though she was not next to him ; 
 she appeared as little to care for looking at him 
 as he, on the other hand, sought to look at her. 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe took Jules de Monleon's arm, 
 leaving the rest standing, as they passed, with 
 their hands behind them holding their hats, as 
 if they were indispensable articles for sitting down 
 to dinner with and on. Why men persist in en- 
 cumbering themselves with hats at such times is 
 hard to understand, for they don't seem to have 
 any necessity for them, either at or after dinner, 
 inasmuch as they pass them from their own hands 
 into those of a servant, apparently waiting for the 
 sole purpose of taking them just as they are enter- 
 ing the dining-room.
 
 54 DACTA SINGLETON. 
 
 Daeia Singleton thought, during a moment's 
 lull in her conversation with Henry Marsden, that 
 society was, after all, pleasant enough. Latterly 
 she had, owing to her father's long illness and her 
 mother's everlasting supposed illness, but rarely 
 gone out; the consequence was she fancied she 
 disliked company: it so happening, however, that 
 she liked her companion, made her think she liked 
 society in the mass. It is often the case that our 
 opinion of a whole is formed from isolated occur- 
 rences. 
 
 " That lady's name, you say, is Langen Coun- 
 tess Langen ; is she an old acquaintance of 
 yours?" asked Henry Marsden towards the end 
 of dinner; and, something like a woman's post- 
 script, it was chiefly the desire to ask her this 
 question that made him, unsolicited, take her 
 down to dinner. 
 
 " O, dear, no ! You must know her better 
 than I do, I think," said Dacia, with a lurking 
 curiosity on her own side ; " for I never saw her 
 before to-day, and you seemed as if you had." 
 
 Marsden was silent for a moment, and then, 
 when he was about to make some reply, Mrs. Mon-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 55 
 
 crieffe made a move, and the ladies left the room. 
 Later in the evening, however, an opportunity 
 occurred for him to renew the conversation ; that 
 is, he made one, as all men can do when it suits 
 them, as they can equally avoid a tete-d-tete, if 
 they are so determined. 
 
 "Has your sister known Countess Langen long? 
 Did she know her before her marriage ?" 
 
 " Before my sister's marriage ? O no. I do 
 not know whether they have been acquainted any 
 length of time; but I hardly think they have, 
 though they seem to be so intimate now." 
 
 " More's the pity. Your sister had better be 
 intimate with the incar Forgive me," he added, 
 in an altered tone, " I have no right to select your 
 sister s friends." 
 
 " No, I do not think you have," replied Dacia 
 quietly ; " but why do you speak so harshly of one 
 that seems a very fascinating, and certainly a very 
 handsome, woman V 
 
 Marsden looked at Dacia Singleton for a 
 moment, and then merely replied, "I spoke 
 hastily, but not harshly. She is not one to whom 
 I could tell such a tale of misery and disgrace,"
 
 56 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 was his inward comment, as lie gazed at the young 
 innocent-looking girl by his side. 
 
 " I think you did ; both your words and tone 
 gave me the impression not only that you disliked 
 her, but that my sister was wrong in knowing her 
 so intimately." 
 
 " I would not allow a sister of mine to sit down 
 in the same room with her," he replied, again 
 urged on by some feeling to speak warmly and 
 bitterly ; " but do not ask me any questions con- 
 cerning her, Miss Singleton, for I could not answer 
 them. I will only tell you one tiling ; she did a 
 bitter injury to one whom I loved very dearly, 
 and that as the Countess Langen I never saw her 
 till this evening. I will now wish you good- 
 night, not good-bye, for I hope I may be for- 
 tunate enough to meet you again." 
 
 "I hardly think that likely," replied Dacia, 
 smiling, " as we leave England the day after to- 
 morrow for for ever, I suppose." 
 
 " That is indeed for a long time ; may I ask 
 whither you are bound ?" 
 
 " Dunkerque. Not far off, you will say ; but I 
 have never been out of my own country, and the
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 57 
 
 feeling I have is, that once cross the water, it might 
 be to Australia as well as merely to a small town 
 the other side of the Channel." 
 
 "You do not like the idea of living on the 
 Continent ?" 
 
 "Not much. One can hardly like leaving 
 old friends and old associations for perhaps dis- 
 agreeable acquaintances, and an entirely different 
 mode of life." 
 
 "No, looking at it in that light, it is not 
 pleasant; yet some of my friends that I value 
 more than I can tell you, I met during my resi- 
 dence abroad." 
 
 " You, then, have lived on the Continent ?" 
 
 "During the last four or five winters. My 
 health has unfortunately compelled me to give up 
 home-comforts and English cold for the miseries 
 of an hotel-life, but the geniality and warmth of 
 the southern sun." 
 
 Henry Marsden spoke in a sadder tone than 
 was pleasant to hear. It was but natural that he 
 should do so when the cause is considered ; yet it 
 is painful to hear people talk in a melancholy 
 strain, especially if it is where health is concerned,
 
 58 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 for there is no subject so difficult to offer consola- 
 tion on. It is impossible to tell any one who com- 
 plains of constant pain that it won't last, when 
 they know it has already lasted for years, and 
 likely to endure to their h'fe's end. Nor can one 
 tell a man that is gradually wasting away from 
 the effects of a constitution utterly wrecked by 
 that terribly destroying disease, consumption, that 
 in a few weeks he will gain flesh, and once more 
 be the strong healthful being he was. Dacia 
 could only make some commonplace wish as to 
 his future improvement; and then he told her 
 he should call on the following day and bid her 
 farewell. 
 
 Dacia Singleton followed Henry Marsden's 
 movements as he went from one to the other 
 with a strange interest one she could in no way 
 account for; she watched especially the way he 
 evaded having even to bow a good-night to 
 Madame Langen. She certainly had not fallen 
 in love at first sight, the idea suggesting it made 
 her smile ; and yet till he was gone her great blue 
 eyes were never taken off him. Perhaps he had 
 noticed this, though he had not appeared to do so ;
 
 AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 59 
 
 for his head was so full of the bright beautiful girl 
 he had just parted from, that he forgot to tell his 
 coachman to drive him straight home instead of 
 his club, which was his usual resort for half-an- 
 hour at least every night, whether he dined out or 
 not. But so disinclined was he to have the current 
 of his reflections changed, that even though he was 
 at the very door he called out in a muffled tone 
 for he had to guard against night-air " Home." 
 
 Still far into the early hours of morning did 
 Henry Marsden sit pondering over the events of 
 the evening ; events seemingly trifling and frivol- 
 ous ; yet they were significant enough, and fraught 
 for the future with strange and wondrous changes. 
 To himself individually they sufficed to give a 
 colouring to the present of a brighter hue than 
 he had ever thought to see it wear.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE. 
 
 " You must have made a conquest of Mr. Mars- 
 den, Miss Singleton," said the Countess Langen, 
 coming up and sitting down by her side. 
 
 Dacia somewhat coldly replied that she had 
 seen no signs to draw such an inference from. 
 The girl seemed suddenly impregnated with 
 Marsden's dislike to the Countess. She fancied 
 the expression in her eyes spoke of falseness; 
 she thought the smile on her lips was a cruel 
 smile. Heartless she felt certain she must be, 
 or how could she have injured one so grievously 
 as Henry Marsden said she had? She felt sure 
 it must have been a sorry deed that could make 
 him speak so unrelentingly. 
 
 Maria Langen was, as Dacia Singleton had 
 remarked, a handsome woman ; rather below the 
 middle stature, with a slight well-made figure ;
 
 A FOOL'S PABADISE. 61 
 
 her hair was black, of that peculiar blue-black 
 that is so rare amongst English women. Her eyes 
 were large and full, and of a dark brown ; they 
 could look soft and loving, but that was not 
 their natural expression at ah 1 events not now, 
 whatever it might have been in days of yore. 
 Her nose was large, her lips thin and straight, 
 but of a bright red almost too bright to be na- 
 tural; her complexion clear, and without the aid 
 of art, pale, but generally the cheeks were suf- 
 fused with a delicate blush that never varied. 
 But her great attraction lay in her manner, 
 which, when she pleased, was singularly fasci- 
 nating, and when she chose, few could resist: 
 women as well as men succumbed to her in- 
 fluence. She was also endowed with the know- 
 ledge of dressing well; probably acquired in 
 some other country than her own. 
 
 " If you knew Henry Marsden half as well 
 as I once did," she said, "you would admit 
 what I say. Poor fellow! It is sad to see the 
 state he is in: I hardly think I should have re- 
 cognised him, had I not heard his name an- 
 nounced ; he is so terribly altered."
 
 62 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 "He does look very ill. You have known 
 him then for some tune ?" asked Miss Singleton. 
 
 "Yes, some tune," she replied absently. "I 
 knew him abroad." 
 
 " He told me he was obliged to winter abroad. 
 Where did you meet him ?" 
 
 "O, you are curious about his antecedents, 
 are you ?" said the Countess in a bantering tone, 
 which she felt perfectly certain was one calcu- 
 lated to make Dacia cease her questioning. 
 " Cecily," she continued across the room to Mrs. 
 Moncrieffe, who was disputing with her doctor, 
 " Cecily, Mr. Marsden's pale interesting face 
 has made an impression, I think, in this quarter;" 
 and she glanced round at Dacia Singleton as 
 she spoke. 
 
 " Dacia need not accuse other people of flirt- 
 ing any more," said Mrs. Moncrieffe, "for I 
 am sure she has done pretty well herself for 
 , one night." 
 
 "I think Dacia the last person in the world 
 to flirt," said James Moncrieffe; who was al- 
 ways good-natured enough to come to the help 
 of the distressed.
 
 A FOOL'S PAKADISE. 63 
 
 "Hold your tongue, James; you know no- 
 thing about it. How should you ?" said his wife. 
 
 " Why, because you give me plenty of oppor- 
 tunity of judging," was the retort. 
 
 "Mr. Reeves, I wish to goodness you would 
 cure James of talking nonsense." 
 
 "And his wife of acting it!" replied, more 
 sensibly than politely, her medical adviser; but 
 it was said so that it only reached her own 
 ears; and then something more was added that 
 caused Mrs. Moncrieffe to reply, with a pretty, 
 pouting, spoilt-child look : 
 
 "You are horribly rude; and you always are." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton at this point stated she felt 
 so fatigued and she looked so, in good truth 
 she would retire, without, she hoped, disturbing 
 any one else. So gathering her shawl a little 
 closer round her, and smelling-bottle in hand, 
 she bowed to the company collectively, and slowly 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Dacia, you go up with mamma," said her 
 sister. "You can come back again, you know; 
 only just see that she has all she wants." 
 
 Dacia went, but did not return ; she too
 
 64 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 was longing for rest; and though she had to 
 put up with a good half-hour's complaints from 
 her mother as to her doing nothing to make 
 herself useful, and so on, she, when she was 
 let, fell into a deep sound sleep, that lasted un- 
 interruptedly till she was awoke by Maxwell's 
 banging about the water-cans against the baths 
 as she prepared them for use. Servants seem 
 incapable of doing things quietly. 
 
 The following day, Thursday, Mrs. Mon- 
 crieffe considered herself thoroughly victimised, 
 being obliged to attend to her mother's wishes, 
 and accompany her on her shopping expedition. 
 Cecily had become more selfish since her mar- 
 riage than she was even before. From the mo- 
 ment she became the wife of an Honourable, she 
 looked on herself as tres grande dame; and 
 though from her birth she had been accustomed 
 to the same comforts and luxuries wealth always 
 insures, she was but the daughter of a country 
 squire true, of a very ancient family but 
 totally free from noble blood. Now having 
 married a weak, foolish, shallow -brained man, 
 for whom she never felt any real affection, and
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE. 65 
 
 toleration being the only feeling if feeling there 
 was of any kind in the matter that after five 
 years of married life she entertained for him, 
 she yet enjoyed, and that thoroughly, the con- 
 sciousness that her name was down in the Peer- 
 age, and that she might class herself amongst 
 those that some people term the Upper Ten 
 Thousand. Because of this, she thought she 
 might give herself airs, and frequently indulged 
 in showing off before those she considered infe- 
 rior in rank and position. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton was not at all the sort of wo- 
 man to see this fault in her daughter, and I 
 much doubt if in any case she would have con- 
 sidered it in that light ; not so Mrs. Ewart, who, 
 much to Mrs. Moncrieffe's discomfiture, made her 
 appearance at the very moment she had resolved 
 to throw her mother over, for the sake of joining 
 Countess Langen in some expedition that lady 
 was bent on fulfilling. 
 
 There was a good quarter of an hour's squab- 
 bling as to who was to go in the barouche, and 
 who in the brougham. 
 
 "I cannot drive in an open carriage such a 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 06 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 day as this," said Mrs. Singleton with a shiver, 
 and drawing her shawl closely round her. 
 
 "But, mamma, the brougham will not hold 
 more than two; so of course I cannot go with 
 you," replied Cis. 
 
 " And why not ? You and I are but two." 
 
 " But Dacia of course wants to go." 
 
 " Pray do not mind me. All I have to do, 
 I can do walking; and I daresay Mum will go 
 with me. Will you, Mum?" said Dacia, turning 
 to her aunt. 
 
 " Do drive with me, Miss Singleton," said the 
 Countess Langen. " I should so enjoy your being 
 with me ; and it will be dreadfully dull for me all 
 alone." 
 
 But Dacia declined. She thought of what 
 Henry Marsden had said. The words, " I would 
 not allow a sister of mine to sit down in the same 
 room with her," flashed across her memory; and 
 moreover she did not care to run the chance of 
 his seeing her driving by the side of one of whom 
 he had so spoken. 
 
 At last all was settled ; not as was wished, but 
 still it was settled. And after two false starts by
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE. 67 
 
 Mrs. Singleton and Mrs. Moncrieffe, they were 
 fairly off. Then Madame Langen went her way, 
 leaving Mrs. Ewart and Dacia in quiet possession 
 of the house. 
 
 " I suppose we had better go ourselves now," 
 said Mrs. Ewart. 
 
 " What hour do people most generally pay 
 visits at in London?" asked Dacia, but making 
 no sign of a move. 
 
 The aunt looked at the niece. She did not 
 in one sense comprehend her. The meaning of 
 her question was quite intelligible, but not its 
 drift. 
 
 "Why do you ask? Generally about this 
 time." 
 
 Dacia told her why, simply and shortly. 
 
 "And you wish to see Mr. Marsden, if he 
 calls?" 
 
 " I want you to see him, Mum." 
 
 "Then, my dear, your want is already ad- 
 ministered to. I have seen him, and often." 
 
 Dacia was silent for a moment ; then she said, 
 looking up at her aunt, whilst a blush spread over 
 her face, " I should like to see him again myself."
 
 68 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 It was now Mrs. Ewart's turn to be silent; 
 and when, after a few minutes, she looked round 
 at Dacia with the intention of speaking, there was 
 an anxious look on her kindly face a plain face, 
 it is true ; but at that moment the soft tender ex- 
 pression over it lent it a beauty no feature could 
 give. 
 
 " Henry Marsden cannot live many years ; I 
 sometimes think, after seeing him, not many 
 months." 
 
 The words may read curt and hard, but they 
 did not sound so ; they were spoken in a gentle 
 pitying tone. We may all know how much the 
 manner of saying a thing influences the effect it 
 causes. 
 
 " I fear he cannot. I thought last night death 
 seemed to have set its stamp on his fine intellectual 
 face. It made me sad to look at him. Mum 
 darling, don't mistake my seeming interest in him 
 for more than what I should feel for any one in 
 his state, and that I have known but for a few 
 short hours. I don't think you need fear my fall- 
 ing in love with him," she said more gaily ; " not 
 if I saw him daily for the next twelve months.
 
 A FOOL'S PAKADISE. 69 
 
 I cannot tell you what has attracted me more to 
 him than any one I ever saw before ; but I actually 
 enjoyed myself last night, and I believe simply 
 because of him ; and I have a great desire to see 
 him once again. You know, Mum, probably we 
 shall never meet again on earth ; therefore it can 
 do no great injury seeing him to-day, if he calls." 
 
 Dacia then detailed to Mrs. Ewart the part of 
 the conversation she had held with Henry Mars- 
 den relative to the Countess Langen. Before, 
 however, she had done more than give a rough 
 outline of it, he was himself announced. 
 
 " I heard you were here, Mrs. Ewart," he said, 
 shaking hands with her cordially, " or I hardly 
 think I should have dared to intrude." 
 
 " We were going out ; but my niece told me 
 you were likely to call, and so we waited for you," 
 said Mrs. Ewart, always peculiarly plain-spoken. 
 
 " Well, Mum, hardly that," said Miss Single- 
 ton, who did not fail to read a look of intense 
 gratification in the glance Henry Marsden cast 
 towards' her. " We were not waiting for you, Mr. 
 Marsden." 
 
 She smiled as she addressed him a soft pitying
 
 70 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 smile, that went straight to the poor fellow's heart. 
 It would have been better for him never to have 
 met Dacia Singleton again. However little injury 
 it might inflict on her, it was otherwise with him. 
 She meant nothing by the gentle, almost tender 
 tone she used in speaking to him. All she felt 
 was, that she was talking to one whose days on 
 earth were numbered, and therefore whose every 
 wish and desire she would have gratified, had it 
 lay in her power. With him, however, it was 
 very different. He mistook her manner, mistook 
 her motives, mistook the impulse that prompted 
 her well-intentioned kindliness. 
 
 It was a long happy hour Henry Marsden 
 passed that afternoon; and though he felt a mo- 
 mentary pang as he held Dacia's small hand in 
 his and bid her farewell, he was no sooner out 
 of the house than a thousand wild projects were 
 formed which would enable him soon again to 
 see that beautiful face that had so innocently 
 forced its way into his heart. 
 
 His very state of health rendered him more 
 impetuous in his feelings, more eager to gain a 
 prize that, having set a priceless value on, he was
 
 A FOOL'S PAKADISE. 71 
 
 the more resolute to leave no human effort untried 
 to gain. He never thought of the utter selfishness 
 his new-born love brought to light. To bind one 
 to him that he must inwardly know would, did he 
 do so, soon be left alone in the w r orld, unprotected 
 and desolate, never seemed to strike him. Per- 
 haps in the first flush of the moment he forgot 
 his desperate state. However that may be, he 
 floated on in a dreamy happy manner, for many 
 days to come, in what the clear-seeing world would 
 call a fool's paradise. 
 
 The fool's paradise, however, is not to be 
 despised. If, like the oasis in the desert, it 
 renders one less resigned to the after -toil and 
 exposure, it has at all events this advantage 
 that it gives one the repose necessary to induce 
 the strength required for the dreary task that 
 may lie before us. 
 
 For a time Marsden's friends were surprised 
 at the sudden change that had come over him ; 
 his new-found happiness seemed to have stayed 
 the destroying disease for the time being; he 
 seemed as much improved physically as he felt 
 himself to be mentally. Once, and once only, did
 
 72 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 he give way to a temporary depression. It was 
 after a farewell visit he had paid Mrs. Moncrieffe 
 previous to his departure for Cannes; as he was 
 leaving the house, he met the Countess Langen 
 going into it; then he asked himself whether it 
 was possible Dacia Singleton could deceive him 
 as that woman had done his friend. Reason pre- 
 vailed after a little while, and he felt satisfied that 
 she would never be aught but what was pure and 
 truthful. Then he wandered off happily to his 
 fool's paradise, conjuring up such vivid pictures 
 of happiness in his old and beautiful northern 
 home, with Dacia Singleton by his side as his 
 loving and lovely wife, that he would willingly 
 have gone on for the remaining short span of his 
 life unawakened to sombre sad reality. 
 
 Here we must leave him for the present, and 
 return to more matter-of-fact and every-day oc- 
 currences.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 
 
 THE shopping was completed. The alpaca, the 
 needles and pins, were all bought, besides a dozen 
 other things that Mrs. Singleton considered neces- 
 sary for her own personal comfort ; yet she did 
 not speak of the morrow as the day which was to 
 witness her bid adieu to her native country and 
 friends. It was very natural that she should feel 
 a dread of the last step that was to sever her from 
 ties of more than forty years' standing; very 
 natural she should be loth to leave all the com- 
 forts she was surrounded by, for Heaven only 
 knew what. Yet her complaints when uttered 
 were not such as would command sympathy ; she 
 talked always of what she would have to endure 
 and bear; she wailed over what her personal 
 privations would be ; she never thought of Dacia 
 in the matter. What did it matter for a young
 
 74 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 girl ? All places were alike to young people ; they 
 never even appreciated comforts if they had them. 
 How often had not Dacia preferred donning a 
 short skirt and thick boots, and umbrella in hand, 
 start off on a cold winter's day, with the snow 
 falling fast around her, for the purpose of sitting 
 by the side of some poor sick cottager, and reading 
 or speaking words of comfort, to remaining in her 
 own comfortable warm room, with the last new 
 novel at her command? 
 
 Poor Dacia! One of her heart's sorrows on 
 leaving the home of her childhood was the fear 
 that many would miss her, and perhaps in a more 
 sensible manner than the hearing of her voice, for 
 many a shilling did she make her pocket-money 
 pay toll on entering the dwellings of her less- 
 favoured fellow -creatures. But there was no 
 sympathy for Dacia ; no thought of what a life 
 she might have before her compared with that 
 she had hitherto led, unless, indeed, it was Mrs. 
 Ewart who sighed inwardly at her darling's dreary 
 prospects. 
 
 Dacia, whatever she felt herself, spoke cheerily 
 enough ; she did not care to give way or encourage
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 75 
 
 any depression she felt, by giving way to it in 
 words, and at the same time paining others. This 
 very unselfishness called forth remarks from her 
 mother that it required all her self-command to 
 refrain from replying to ; but she bore on bravely, 
 determined not to despond at all events till she 
 found every thing in her new home as wretched 
 as she expected. 
 
 " Mum," said Cecily, falling back on her aunt, 
 as was her wont in her need, though she avoided 
 her as much as possible at other times, " don't 
 you think you had better settle with mamma about 
 the hour she will start to-morrow?" 
 
 "No, I don't think any thing of the kind," 
 replied Mrs. Ewart, who, like every one, however 
 good-natured they may be, disliked being made 
 use of in so unmistakable a manner as Cis inva- 
 riably did it in : "I don't at all see what I have 
 to do with the matter." 
 
 " O, Mum dear, do please talk to her," said 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe, in a pretty coaxing manner ; " you 
 know she will be so angry with me if I say a word 
 about it, and declare I want to get rid of her, and 
 all that sort of thing."
 
 7G DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Well, but it seems you do want f all that sort 
 of thing.' Supposing your mother does not intend 
 going to-morrow ; I heard something about staying 
 over Sunday." 
 
 Cecily at first looked blank, but after a mo- 
 ment's reflection her countenance cleared up. She 
 had evidently thought of some expedient that would 
 serve her purpose. So, humming a French air, 
 she went to her writing-table, stood whilst she 
 scrawled off a note, addressed it, sealed it care- 
 fully, and finally ringing the bell, desired the 
 servant to send it immediately to its destination. 
 
 Mrs. Ewart saw all, but said nothing. She 
 sat quietly unravelling a piece of string that 
 had got into a knotted state of uselessness. She 
 was remaining to dinner to-day at James Mon- 
 crieffe's especial request ; she was an immense 
 favourite with him. Dacia, knowing her aunt 
 would probably be alone, hurried down to join 
 her in the drawing-room. Mrs. Moncrieffe was 
 leaving the room to dress, as it wanted but a 
 short time [to the usual dinner hour, as her sister 
 went in. 
 
 " I am afraid, Cis, mamma will not go before
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 77 
 
 Monday," said Dacia, who had perfectly seen her 
 sister's desire to get rid of them. 
 
 " Don't you think she will ? Well, I suppose 
 you will be very glad." 
 
 "No, I am very sorry," replied her sister 
 quietly. " I think the sooner mamma faces all 
 her troubles the better." 
 
 "What are you girls talking about?" said 
 James Moncrieffe, appearing at the top of the 
 stairs whilst the two sisters stood in the open door- 
 way. 
 
 " Nothing that concerns you," replied his wife. 
 " How horribly you smell of smoke, James !" 
 
 This accusation Mrs. Moncrieffe made to turn 
 the discussion from touching on her mother's de- 
 parture in her husband's presence. She knew 
 fall well he would urge her to remain as long as 
 she felt disposed to do so. 
 
 " Well, you generally seem to like it when it 
 emanates from any of those gentlemen with un- 
 pronounceable names that your friend the Countess 
 has introduced to you. I wish they were all at 
 the devil !" he added in a lower tone, as he passed 
 by his wife and sister-in-law and went into the
 
 78 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 drawing-room, when his face instantly brightened 
 as he saw !NIrs. Ewart sitting there ; and, much to 
 Dacia's vexation, sat beside her, thus destroying 
 her own anticipated tete-ar-tete. 
 
 They were all assembled and waiting for din- 
 ner, when the servant came in and spoke to Mrs. 
 Moncrieffe. She instantly rose and left the room. 
 
 "What's she up to now, I wonder?" said her 
 husband. 
 
 "Really, James, you are enough to torment 
 any woman to death," said Mrs. Singleton. "I 
 am sure if my poor husband had ever gone on as 
 you do, I should have taken leave of my senses ;" 
 and Mrs. Singleton found the very thoughts of 
 what the consequences of such treatment might 
 have been necessitate the use of her smelling- 
 bottle. 
 
 James Moncrieffe thought the chances would 
 have been with him as with his late father-in-law 
 he would have succumbed, and not the lady. 
 
 "I think Cis does pretty well as she likes," 
 was all he said. 
 
 "I think you are a pattern husband, Mr. 
 Moncrieffe," remarked laughingly Countess Lan-
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 79 
 
 gen, who desired rather to conciliate him. But 
 the compliment fell on stony ground. Mr. Mon- 
 crieffe did not like Madame Langen, and it was 
 all he could do to disguise the feeling. 
 
 Mrs. MoncriefFe returned, bustling into the 
 room with a little flurried fussy manner, and fol- 
 lowed by her good-looking doctor. 
 
 "Mr. Reeves came to attend to a little busi- 
 ness for me," she said ; " so I have insisted on his 
 staying to dinner." 
 
 "Really, Reeves, I must make you welcome, 
 if it were for no other reason than your keeping 
 my wife in such wonderful health; but whether 
 from medicine you do give her or medicine you 
 don't, I am sure I cannot tell," said his not over- 
 courteous host. 
 
 " I think the latter ; is it not, Mrs. Moncrieffe f 
 
 " I am sure I don't know ; but any way it is 
 no business of James's." 
 
 " O, dear, no ; none at all ! Nothing seems of 
 much business to me in this house." 
 
 Cecily Moncrieffe looked vexed, and her hus- 
 band, who was an utter fool as regarded her if 
 intense blind affection makes a man a fool was
 
 80 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 now anxious to dissipate the cloud he had gathered 
 over her pretty face ; so he was civil to the doctor, 
 and talked to Countess Langen, and Cis became 
 herself again. 
 
 The dinner passed off well enough. Later in 
 the evening, when they were assembled in the 
 drawing-room, and Madame Langen was enter- 
 taining them at the piano she was a brilliant 
 performer, but nothing more ; there was no senti- 
 ment in her music Mr. Reeves approached Mrs. 
 Singleton, and began to ask some commonplace 
 questions about her journey. Mrs. Moncrieffe 
 betook herself to the other end of the room, and 
 called Dacia to look over some photographs she 
 had recently purchased. Mrs. Ewart and James 
 Moncrieffe were having a quiet chat over his home 
 troubles not very serious ones, as he made them 
 out so that the doctor and Mrs. Singleton were 
 left to themselves. 
 
 Presently, certainly before ten minutes had 
 elapsed, Mrs. Singleton called out in as loud a tone 
 as she ever raised her voice to, " Cecily, I shall be 
 obliged to leave to-morrow. I must go to-morrow; 
 it is very, very hard, but it cannot be helped."
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 81 
 
 "Why, mamma?" asked Cis, coming towards 
 the sofa her mother and Reeves were sitting on. 
 
 " Why ! Because Mr. Reeves tells me that 
 next week there will be an opposition company 
 started, and they are going to run steamers across 
 from Dover to Calais ; and the consequence will 
 be O, dear, I hardly know what! All sorts of 
 troubles and misfortunes. They start at the same 
 hour ; and that the people belonging to each would 
 most likely do as once happened before nearly 
 tear off the passengers' clothes in trying to drag 
 them on board their boats, and that they will even 
 offer to take you for nothing rather than resign 
 you to their rivals." 
 
 This long speech not by any means spoken 
 without the interruptions necessary for the use of 
 the smelling-bottle quite exhausted the poor 
 lady ; she leaned back, not alone from fatigue, but 
 from a sort of feeling that now she could fight 
 against her fate no more, she would give in quietly. 
 
 " Good gracious !" exclaimed Cis, looking per- 
 fectly dismayed. "Are you quite sure, Mr. Reeves? 
 That would be dreadful, mamma : you could ne- 
 ver stand that ; nor must you run any such risk." 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 DAC1A SINGLETON. 
 
 "No, my dear," replied her mother, closing 
 her eyes ; " it would kill me." 
 
 The very thought seemed to make her cheek 
 pale. The picture Mr. Reeves had drawn of the 
 matter was certainly one calculated to make a 
 tolerably strong-minded woman pause before she 
 ran the chance of encountering it ; but to one of 
 Mrs. Singleton's temperament it was beyond 
 measure terrifying. 
 
 "Are you perfectly sure your information is 
 correct, Mr. Reeves?" asked Mrs. Ewart; and 
 there was a peculiar tone and expression in her 
 voice and face as she spoke, that Cecily noticed,, 
 and, I think, quite understood. 
 
 " It is in all the papers," replied Mr. Reeves j 
 " their advertisements take up too much space for 
 it to be a mere rumour. I think, Mrs. Ewart, it is 
 correct, though I should be sorry Mrs. Singleton 
 acted only on my information." 
 
 " O, I am sure you are right, Mr. Reeves quite 
 sure ; Mrs. Ewart never reads the papers, and so 
 can know nothing about it," replied Mrs. Single- 
 ton. 
 
 " Why, mamma," said Dacia, who could never
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 83 
 
 bear a word said that sounded disparagingly of 
 her aunt, " Mum spells through the 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Dacia ; you always talk 
 so much. I shall be knocked up for weeks to 
 come after this journey. I intended sleeping at 
 Dover, and now that will be impossible ; I have 
 not the strength to go through so much." 
 
 " And yet it is but a short journey from here 
 to Calais ; the whole thing won't take you more 
 than five hours." 
 
 "Five hours! O dear, you do not know what 
 five hours passed in being either rattled to pieces 
 or in staggering up and down damp boards, and 
 surrounded by the most unpleasant scenes, is. 
 You can't picture such misery, unless you were 
 a weak delicate woman like myself. Dacia, come 
 here ; don't go away just as you are wanted. What 
 time must we leave to-morrow, Mr. Reeves ?" 
 
 Dacia hoped to escape from her mother's wail- 
 ing ; but it was never an easy matter to do that. 
 
 "I cannot tell you; but I should advise your 
 leaving Dover by the first boat. It will be better 
 for you, as the days are short now and the even- 
 ings clamp and foggy," replied Mr. Reeves.
 
 84 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " But I cannot get up early ; I am ill for days 
 after if I am disturbed before my usual time in 
 the morning. But never mind. Tell Maxwell, 
 Dacia, she must be prepared, and all the things 
 ready, the first thing in the morning. Go and 
 tell her at once, that she may begin packing." 
 
 When Dacia was gone, Mrs. Singleton again 
 turned to Mr. Reeves, as a last hope struck her : 
 "Don't you think this horrid opposition will be 
 over in a day or two, and we might wait? In- 
 deed it would be so much better to do that, till all 
 was calm and settled again." 
 
 "My dear madam, when these things begin 
 they last sometimes for weeks, and every day 
 makes them worse. I am sure you are doing 
 what is wise and right in fixing to leave to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton sighed, and tried to resign herself. 
 
 " I am so sorry, mamma ; but as you must go, 
 it is much better you should do so when you can 
 make the journey quietly and without running any 
 risks, as you would do if you delayed." 
 
 "Have you a Bradshaw, Mrs. MoncriefFe ?" 
 asked Mr. Reeves.
 
 OPPOSITIONS. 85 
 
 " A Bradshaw ! no ; what in the world would 
 be the use of a Bradshaw to me ! I have an 
 ABC book, if that will do," she replied, looking 
 up with a pretty and well -pleased smile, and a 
 look he seemed to understand. 
 
 " No, I am afraid that will not do ; however, I 
 will ascertain the exact hours on my return home, 
 and will send it up to you at once, and therefore I 
 will wish you good-night." 
 
 After the doctor was gone, there was no end 
 of propositions started and plans proposed all of 
 which, however, met with objections from Mrs. 
 Singleton; so it was thought best to leave her 
 alone, and let her carry out Mr. Reeves' sugges- 
 tion. His paper, with hours and minutes written 
 down most distinctly, soon appeared ; and it was 
 finally settled that they were to start by the early 
 morning express, so as to reach Dover in time for 
 the first boat. 
 
 " Well, mamma, one good thing by that plan 
 you will avoid sleeping on the road; for you 
 will of course, on landing, take the train straight 
 on to Dunkerque." 
 
 "I shall do no such thing, Cecily. After two
 
 86 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 such journeys, one by land and the other by sea, 
 to think of taking a third is out of all reason. 
 But you have no consideration, no thought for 
 my state not a bit more than Dacia. I am 
 sure I don't know how I shall be able to get up 
 in time."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 * 
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 
 
 THERE was something very honest in Robert 
 Reeves' face; it was a truthful, genuine counte- 
 nance : one felt as if one could place implicit trust 
 in all he said and did ; there was even a frankness 
 in his tone of voice, that had its weight. We are 
 terribly apt to be led away by what is pleasing, 
 and be deceived by outward appearances. Cer- 
 tainly the doctor was not worthy of half the good 
 faith that was placed in him, chiefly on account of 
 his being under the influence of a pretty woman ; 
 he would have been as true as he was supposed 
 to be but for that misfortune. Not that he was 
 the least in love with Cecily Moncrieffe such 
 an idea was as far from his thoughts as sunset is 
 from dawn yet, considering the many follies he 
 was guilty of on that lady's account, it was some- 
 what hard to define what his exact sentiments 
 towards her were.
 
 88 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 I am inclined to think it was a mere gratifica- 
 tion of vanity he indulged in, and that no other 
 feeling prompted or biased him. It is curious to 
 note the wonderful power a woman can gain over 
 a man, if she chooses to exert herself. There is 
 very little she cannot make him do, if she begins at 
 the right end, that is, finding out his weak point, 
 and if she can manage to keep her heart cool as 
 well as her head. There was little fear of Cis 
 Moncrieffe erring in that way, though she liked 
 Robert Reeves quite well enough for her purpose, 
 which enabled her to be winning and attractive in 
 her manner, and so mould him into any shaped 
 tool she required. She became acquainted with 
 him very soon after her marriage, and the pretty 
 wayward wife became a very pleasing study. Ce- 
 cily herself would as soon have thought of falling 
 in love with her doctor as she would with the 
 humdrum parson under whom she sat every 
 Sunday, listening to long dreary sermons ; but 
 it was quite worth her while to try and please the 
 one, though she would have laughed if you had 
 told her to be agreeable to the other. When she 
 first became a wife, she thought a married woman
 
 ACEOSS THE CHANNEL. 89 
 
 receiving attention if beyond ordinary civility 
 from any other man than her husband, a terrible 
 wrong; but she got over this, and like many 
 another, after a five years' cruise in London so- 
 ciety, entertained widely different opinions. 
 
 It was not, however, till Mrs. Moncrieffe be- 
 came the intimate friend of the Countess Langen 
 that her actions commenced to tally with her 
 hitherto simply thoughtless manner. It is as im- 
 possible to have daily intercourse with one of easy 
 morals and not imbibe some of the evil conse- 
 quent upon their possession, as to meddle with 
 a sack of soot and expect not to be soiled. Ma- 
 dame Langen had no intention of doing Cecily 
 any harm, but she had opened a door for her, 
 from whence she showed her new scenes, which 
 would, were she to wander amidst them, be pro- 
 ductive of hitherto unknown and unthought-of 
 pleasures; and because Cecily was weak and fool- 
 ish enough to pass through the door, the Countess 
 was not wholly responsible for her doing so. Had 
 she happened to find in Cecily a woman firmly 
 rooted in goodj spotless principles, it might have 
 opened her own eyes to the brink of sorrow that
 
 90 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 lies beyond the fair landscape of the moment, 
 instead of the other being misguided. 
 
 But to return to Mrs. Singleton. The doctor 
 would certainly have regretted the active part he 
 took in persuading her to start at so unconscion- 
 able an hour, could he have been a witness to the 
 poor lady's distress in the morning. To get up in 
 time to catch the train, it was necessary to do so 
 by candle-light; and to add to the wretchedness of 
 that proceeding, it was cold and raining ; in short, 
 nothing could be drearier than the whole business. 
 
 " I must have a fire, Maxwell ; I cannot pos- 
 sibly get up such a cold bitter morning without 
 one. I wonder you thought of my doing so ; 
 though I ought not to be astonished, for no one 
 ever considers my comfort." 
 
 " Well, ma'am, I'm sure I don't know where 
 the fire's to come from ; there's not a soul up in 
 the house, and I don't know where to find coals, 
 or wood, or paper, or any tiling." 
 
 Maxwell was a tall, consequential, grand kind 
 of personage, and usually managed Mrs. Singleton 
 better than any one else ; but if Dacia, or indeed 
 any one, happened to be present, Maxwell rarely
 
 ACEOSS THE CHANNEL. 91 
 
 came off successfully ; and Dacia at this moment 
 was in the miserable enjoyment of a cold bath 
 it is utterly impossible for any one even to pretend 
 to like a cold bath by candle-light. 
 
 "Then you must go and call some of the ser- 
 vants up, and make them tell you where you can 
 find all you require. You should have seen to 
 every thing being ready in the room last night." 
 
 " Well, you'll miss the train, that's all," said 
 Maxwell, swinging out of the room and banging 
 the door after her with such violence that the 
 noise was sufficient to rouse all in the house ex- 
 cept the servants, for nothing short of a bodily 
 shake seems to effect that object. 
 
 When Dacia issued from behind her tempora- 
 rily-erected screen, her mother fell to work on her, 
 taunting her with forgetfulness and heartlessness 
 in not having seen there was a fire, she knowing 
 full well that the want of it might produce an ill- 
 ness, arising from cold, that she might never get 
 over. Dacia, with her teeth chattering from her 
 own sufferings, owned it never crossed her mind ; 
 and it would have been strange if she had, consi- 
 dering she had never before occupied the same
 
 92 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 room with her mother, and was always carefully 
 excluded from her apartments ; so that she would 
 no more have thought of giving directions for any 
 thing concerning Mrs. Singleton's personal ar- 
 rangements within the hitherto forbidden pre- 
 cincts than she would of offering to do so for the 
 people residing next door. 
 
 Dacia, however, was quite ready to allow it 
 was very cold too cold for her mother to be with- 
 out a fire ; and so hurrying on with her own toilet, 
 she went herself on Maxwell's track to see what 
 could be done. Of course when that dignified 
 person saw that Miss Singleton was not above 
 groping about in search of firing, she put her own 
 shoulder forward, and soon a coal-scuttle was 
 found, with wood and paper in it as well s coals, 
 evidently placed ready by a careful housemaid to 
 light the morning fires, but which was instantly 
 taken possession of by Maxwell and carried up to 
 Mrs. Singleton's room, where, by the time she 
 was ready to leave it, there burnt a bright, cheer- 
 ful fire. 
 
 " It's easy to see," remarked Maxwell, whilst 
 she was laying out Mrs. Singleton's various gar-
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 93 
 
 ments before the fire, " there's not much manage- 
 ment in this house." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" asked her mistress, 
 who was always ready to talk to her if they were 
 alone; and Miss Singleton had betaken herself to 
 the dining-room. 
 
 u Why, ma'am, just look at the waste that goes 
 on. If you could have seen the kitchen just now, 
 you would have been quite surprised. I never saw 
 such a thing in my life ; every thing left from our 
 suppers still standing on the table, the dessert and 
 wine from the dining-room all lying about and 
 uncovered ; it's quite a shame. If Mrs. Mon- 
 crieffe did as you do, ma'am, she would save hun- 
 dreds a year, I am quite sure." 
 
 But this did not in any way interest Mrs. 
 Singleton ; her daughter being cheated by her 
 
 O O fc/ 
 
 servants, and the things being wasted, were mat- 
 ters of no moment to her; so the subject dropped, 
 Maxwell not being able to keep it up by herself, 
 and her mistress asked no questions. It was as 
 well ; for she succeeded in forwarding her pre- 
 parations for departure, which at one moment 
 stood a fair chance of being incomplete when the
 
 94 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 time for starting arrived. However, at half-past 
 seven Mrs. Singleton and her daughter were 
 comfortably seated in the brougham, and James 
 Moncrieffe uncomfortably perched on a mush- 
 room-shaped seat between them, for he insisted 
 on seeing them off; and they arrived in time for 
 the mail-train to Dover. 
 
 This they reached in ample time to get on 
 board the Vivid, which, true to its name, per- 
 formed the short but intensely unpleasant journey 
 rapidly and well, landing its sick-of-the-sea pas- 
 sengers in safety, and with a feeling of charity 
 burning in each one's breast. Why is it that one 
 feels so amiable and obliging on landing after a 
 short sea-voyage, and doubly so if we have suf- 
 fered during the passage? No one has ever ex- 
 plained it to me, but it is so : one feels as if one 
 could grasp the hand of an enemy in friendship ; 
 one would even do a good turn to the steward, 
 who lied to us with the blandest possible face, 
 telling us we had but fifteen minutes before we 
 should get into the harbour, when we had pre- 
 cisely forty-five of heavy rolling misery to en- 
 dure.
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 95 
 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe's leave-taking with her mother 
 and sister was not very heart-rending. 
 
 " Good-bye, mamma; good-bye, Dacia: be sure 
 and write as soon as you arrive and tell me how 
 you like the place and the people, and remember 
 me to Mrs. Percival ; and mind, if you will stop in 
 Calais, that you go to Dessin's Hotel it's by far 
 the best and most comfortable. I gave Maxwell 
 directions to be sure and take some sandwiches 
 and sherry with her, that you might have some- 
 thing to take on your journey. Good-bye, good- 
 bye !" and with a kiss to each, the parting was 
 over. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Singleton felt bitterly at that mo- 
 ment her altered position felt it thoroughly for 
 the first time. Ease, affluence, and comfort were 
 all gradually vanishing from her, whilst she saw 
 rising dimly and as time went on, coming out 
 more defined and distinct the hard sharp edges 
 and rough uneven corners that small means in- 
 
 o 
 
 variably produce, and that extravagant notions 
 and habits render ten times sharper and rougher 
 when brought in contact with. 
 
 Dacia saw her mother's tear-dimmed eyes, and
 
 96 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 her own were full as she gently and tenderly put 
 her hand within Mrs. Singleton's, and said : 
 
 11 Dearest mamma, I will do all and every thing 
 in my power to make you feel Cecily's loss as 
 lightly as possible." 
 
 But Dacia, with all her affection, could not 
 alter her mother's irritable disposition ; therefore, 
 though she felt pained, she was hardly surprised 
 when she said in reply : 
 
 " If you don't think more for me, and of my 
 comforts, when we are in that detestable place 
 than you did this morning, you won't do much." 
 
 " I will at all events try," said Dacia, re- 
 solved nothing should daunt her in her determina- 
 tion to render her mother's life as bearable as she 
 could. 
 
 More than once it had been a matter of won- 
 der to her that her sister had never offered to in- 
 crease her mother's small income ; and more than 
 once had she had it on the tip of her tongue to 
 speak to Mrs. Moncrieffe on the subject ; but the 
 knowledge that any benefit in that form conferred 
 on her would to a certain extent benefit herself 
 deterred her from doing so. As to Cis she would
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 97 
 
 as soon have thought of handing over her house 
 and servants to her mother as one shilling of her 
 income. It was not in her. She was not alto- 
 gether to blame, as it was her nature to think 
 of herself and nothing but herself. She was Mrs. 
 Singleton over again in that respect; only it 
 seemed more hateful in the younger than in the 
 elder woman. Cecily's selfishness was more evi- 
 dent ; Mrs. Singleton's was partially hidden by 
 the cloak of bad health. 
 
 The moment they landed in Calais Dacia 
 asked her mother what she meant to do, 
 whether to stay or go on ; if the former, should 
 they go to Dessin's ? 
 
 A man who was standing near them at the 
 moment she spoke shouted in their ears the infor- 
 mation that the Hotel de Flandre was the best hotel; 
 that Dessin's was a long way off, &c. &c. ; and so 
 to the Hotel de Flandre they must go, unless they 
 intended by main force to withstand his impor- 
 tunities, as by this time he had succeeded in 
 pushing Dacia gently but very determinedly to- 
 wards an omnibus that was standing close by. 
 Had it happened to have been Mrs. Singleton 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 instead of her daughter he had laid his hand on,, 
 the Hotel de Flandre would never have received 
 their patronage. But as it was, she was only too 
 well pleased to be able to put up at any house but 
 the one Cecily Moncrieffe had told her to be 
 sure and stop at. She had never set her foot in 
 Calais before; consequently Dessin's was of no 
 more account to her than any other hotel ; and 
 her dislike of ever doing any thing that was re- 
 commended to her as advisable was so inherent in 
 her nature, that if a possibility ever showed itself 
 of following some other course, she never let it pass. 
 The horribly noisy and rough drive to the 
 hotel, which was some hundred yards farther 
 distant from the harbour than Dessin's, instead of 
 being nearer, by no means tended to soothe or 
 tranquillise a person of nervous temperament; so 
 by the time they were rattled over the paved 
 entrance into the court-yard of the hotel, poor 
 Mrs. Singleton was fairly knocked up, bodily as 
 well as mentally. Till the omnibus ceased its 
 noisy motion, not a word had been spoken, inas- 
 much as it was evident to both mother and daugh- 
 ter that their voices would be no more heard than
 
 ACKOSS THE CHANNEL. 99 
 
 falling rain by the side of a rushing torrent ; but 
 when mine host, a tall handsome man, opened the 
 door to let the new arrivals alight, Mrs. Single- 
 ton found herself hardly capable of moving. 
 
 "To think that I should ever have lived to 
 arrive at such a state as this, and be reduced to 
 drive in a horrible vehicle of this kind ! Dacia, it 
 wiU kill me I am sure it will !" 
 
 And poor Dacia, knowing what she had her- 
 self endured, really thought, considering her mo- 
 ther's fragileness, that such a result was not alto- 
 gether impossible. But by dint of help Mrs. 
 Singleton was got out, and taken into a room even 
 with the court-yard, large and dreary-looking. 
 Maxwell, who had remained behind with a com- 
 missionaire, to see the luggage pass through the 
 Custom-house, on coming in and seeing where 
 her mistress was located she whose delicate foot 
 had never trod on other than softly carpeted floors 
 exclaimed : 
 
 u Well, I'm sure, ma'am, if this is the sort of 
 barrack they put you in, I wonder what they'll 
 give me." 
 
 " Never mind, Maxwell," said Miss Singleton ;
 
 100 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 11 we must try and make mamma as comfortable 
 as possible ; I think a glass of wine would do her 
 good. Go and see if they have any sherry." 
 
 Sherry! Poor Dacia! Sherry at the Hotel 
 de Flandre I 
 
 " No, miss," said Maxwell, returning from 
 her errand. " But they have Marsala, if you 
 know what that is; and they have this, that looks 
 like port ; so I told them to give me a glass for my 
 mistress to try ; it will do her more good than the 
 other stuff." 
 
 " That is claret," exclaimed Dacia, tasting it ; 
 (C and horribly sour stuff too ! Dear me, Maxwell, 
 mamma can't drink that ; what is to be done ? 
 Go and get the Marsala." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton in the mean time was lying on 
 a long large sofa, covered with red velvet : her 
 bonnet was removed, otherwise all her wraps were 
 still on her ; her eyes were closed, but her smell- 
 ing-bottle was doing its duty. 
 
 " Would you like a fire, mamma?" said Dacia, 
 going to her mother's side. " I think the room 
 might look more comfortable with one ; otherwise 
 it feels very warm."
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 101 
 
 " Warm !" said Mrs. Singleton captiously, but 
 in a very low tone. " I am perished with the cold !" 
 
 Dacia resolved to go herself and see if she 
 could not get something for her mother to take ; 
 she felt a conviction that under the circumstances 
 a slight stimulant would do her more good than 
 any thing else. As she crossed the court, the 
 great big stones it was paved with hurt her feet ; 
 and in order to get over them as quickly as pos- 
 sible, she hastened her t steps so much that the 
 master of the hotel, seeing her making towards 
 the bureau, came out to meet her. 
 
 She told her requirements more comprehen- 
 sively than Maxwell had done, and he very wisely 
 suggested some hot brandy and water ; at any rate 
 their brandy was pure and good. And when Max- 
 well brought it, Mrs. Singleton was persuaded to 
 drink a good tumblerful ; after which she rapidly 
 became very warm, less irritable, and finally fell 
 into a sound refreshing sleep. 
 
 " Law, miss, what a good thought that brandy 
 was, to be sure! It will do your mamma all the 
 good in the world to get this sleep. But what a 
 room ! Isn't it, miss ?"
 
 102 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Well, it does not look very comfortable," 
 replied Dacia in the same under-tone Maxwell 
 had spoken in. " The sand is the worst : if it 
 had but a carpet, it would not be so bad ; it will 
 look less cheerless when the fire is lighted." 
 
 It did look wretched and dreary to one so un- 
 accustomed to any thing of the kind as Miss Single- 
 ton, but she tried to make the best of it. The two 
 narrow, high, curtainless beds, with their cover- 
 ings drawn down and tucked in so tightly at the 
 sides that they seemed like any tiling but beds, and 
 comfortless in the extreme ; but here their looks be- 
 lied them. The tiny wash-stand with its miniature 
 white-china fittings ; the strange mixture of com- 
 mon furniture with velvet-covered sofa and chairs, 
 but all wearing a hard tight look; the sand- 
 covered floor ; the bare cold-looking walls ; alto- 
 gether it was not an enlivening spot to have first 
 set foot in across the Channel, after living in an 
 English home and with inborn English tastes. 
 
 Presently there was a tremendous noise in the 
 yard horses' feet, coach-wheels, men's voices, 
 all clattering together. 
 
 "Good gracious! what can have happened?"
 
 ACBOSS THE CHANNEL. 103 
 
 said Maxwell, rushing from the opposite end of the 
 room, where she was employed in unpacking a 
 box, to the window, to see what on earth could 
 have caused such a disturbance. Miss Singleton 
 also looked out. The cause was a very simple 
 one. It was merely getting the same omnibus 
 ready that had brought them from the, steamer, 
 to go and meet the Paris train, which was shortly 
 due. 
 
 " Of course it's awoke your mamma, miss," 
 said Maxwell, in an injured tone. " I knew it 
 would. Just as if they couldn't do all that some- 
 where else, and not just in front of these win- 
 dows." 
 
 " What is the matter ?" inquired Mrs. Single- 
 ton, in a half-sleepy, half-angry tone. 
 
 " Why, ma'am, it's that horrid omnibus 
 again." 
 
 " We must ask for another room for you, 
 mamma; for if that omnibus is constantly coming 
 in and out, I am afraid the noise would be very 
 annoying to you." 
 
 " Of course I must have another room ; I 
 never heard such a deafening noise. Maxwell,
 
 104 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 go and see about one at once ; and say I must have 
 A carpet in it." 
 
 Maxwell was absent an excessively long time ; 
 too long for Mrs. Singleton's patience to hold out. 
 At last, when she did come back, she expressed a 
 supposition that the other room was ready for her 
 as well as secured. 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am, it's no such thing. I have 
 just been all over the house, and a great rambling 
 place it is too, but there's not a room in it that 
 has more carpet in it than this one ; there are 
 strips in front of the beds, and no more ; treating 
 them like fire-places, and putting rugs before 
 them; and the moment you put your foot on them 
 they slide away ; and I nearly fell twice. I never 
 did see such a place. Lor, ma'am, I wish you 
 had gone to the other Mrs. Moncrieffe told you of; 
 however, they speak English here, that's one com- 
 fort, and perhaps they don't there." 
 
 " But about the rooms, Maxwell?'' said Miss 
 Singleton, thinking it time to stop Maxwell's chat- 
 tering. 
 
 " Well, miss, there are only two others unoc- 
 cupied, and madame says you may have your
 
 ACROSS THE CHANNEL. 105 
 
 choice ; but I think them horrid. This is a beauty 
 compared to them. But will you please come, 
 Miss Singleton? perhaps you won't think them so 
 bad." 
 
 Dacia went ; she agreed, however, with Max- 
 well, her mother was best where she was. The 
 great drawback was the noise in the court-yard, 
 and this she ascertained went on with but short 
 intervals during the whole twenty-four hours. 
 
 " Would you like me to sleep in one of the 
 beds in this room, by you, mamma, or would you 
 rather have Maxwell ?" asked Dacia towards bed- 
 time. 
 
 " Have Maxwell ! Do you take me for a lu- 
 natic, and that I want a keeper with me ?" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Singleton indignantly. u I don't 
 know what you mean, Dacia, by proposing a ser- 
 vant to sleep in my room. You may sleep here, 
 if you choose, as perhaps you may feel lonely if 
 you are put a great way off." 
 
 Dacia replied with a gentle "Very well, 
 mamma ;" but she was beginning to feel terribly 
 depressed, and tired too ; therefore her mother's 
 temper had more effect on her than it would at
 
 106 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 another time. She had feared to offer her own 
 company without suggesting Maxwell as well, or 
 she knew full well her mother would accuse her of 
 some selfish motive. 
 
 It was a hard sorry task the poor girl had 
 before her, to contend alone with the irritability 
 and selfishness to which Mrs. Singleton now more 
 than ever gave way. How, when she laid her 
 weary head down that night, did she think of her 
 sister's happier fate ! and yet Cecily Moncrieffe 
 did not seem to appreciate her good fortune, Dacia 
 thought But so it ever is : what we possess ceases 
 to be valued after we have become accustomed to 
 it; whilst what we desire and cannot obtain is, 
 a,nd continues to be, inestimable.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A BEITISH PARSON. 
 
 IT was a bright fresh morning when Dacia awoke; 
 the sun's rays were gleaming through the divisions 
 of the green Venetian blinds, producing narrow 
 gray bars across the room, making one fancy by 
 the floating mist the sun's bright light rendered 
 distinct to the eye that the whole room must be 
 in a suffocating state of dustiness. Miss Single- 
 ton was rapidly roused from any dreamy, dozy 
 state she might otherwise have indulged in by 
 seeing her mother nearly dressed, and Maxwell 
 entering the room, bearing a tray with a couple of 
 huge white cups and saucers, but so thick they 
 barely held an ordinary teacup full, and two big 
 tin coffee-pots ; one, however, contained hot milk. 
 " Good gracious me ! what time is it ? You 
 up, mamma, and I still in bed!" And Dacia 
 seemed scared at the bare thought of such an 
 event.
 
 108 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Up ! yes, I have been up half the night. I 
 am sure, Dacia, I cannot understand how you 
 could sleep through the frightful noise that -went 
 on almost incessantly. I called you several times, 
 but I could not awake you. I might have died, for 
 all the good you would have been." 
 
 11 1 am very sorry, mamma ; I hope you 
 wanted nothing. I know I am a very sound 
 sleeper." 
 
 " If I had not wanted something I should not 
 have called you ; but it does not matter now. I 
 ought never to expect that any one will think for 
 me ; I have never found them do it yet, and I 
 daresay I never shall. We leave here at twelve 
 o'clock, Dacia ; so you had better get up if you 
 wish to be ready, for nothing shall induce me to 
 stay in this place a minute longer than I can ab- 
 solutely avoid." 
 
 Dacia required no second bidding. In a short 
 hour she was ready to go any where or do 
 any thing her mother might desire. The first 
 thing was to make inquiries as to the necessary 
 time for leaving ; and as she crossed the yard to 
 reach the bureau for this purpose, with Maxwell
 
 A BRITISH PARSON. 109 
 
 by her side, more than one pair of eyes were 
 turned in wondrous admiration at her beauty, 
 which was somewhat heightened by a slight colour 
 which the cold clear air had produced. 
 
 Foreigners, as a rule, show better taste in their 
 manner of gazing at a woman whose beauty at- 
 tracts them than Englishmen ; they seem and if 
 merely assumed, better that than to show no sign 
 of it to mingle respect with admiration, and not 
 merely stare as if she were a statue or a picture, 
 and devoid of all feelings that could be pained by 
 such objectionable attentions. 
 
 As Dacia passed a group of men military, 
 apparently their hats were raised and their heads 
 bent, as if a queen, not of beauty only, but of 
 royal rank, was the object of their courteousness ; 
 and Dacia's proud stately bow in return told them 
 what her native country was, even if there had not 
 been proof of her English birth in every step she 
 made. It is the fashion to say that a French 
 woman's walk is far superior to that of our own 
 countrywomen. It may be to those who think that 
 a ship when rolling is more graceful than when she 
 sails steadily along ; for there is precisely that dif-
 
 110 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 ference between the French and English women's 
 walk. The former rolls from side to side, putting 
 her shoulder forward with her foot, which makes 
 short quick steps ; whilst the latter walks with a 
 steady, even movement. 
 
 The information gained, and the final arrange- 
 ments made, there remained nothing further to do 
 till the moment for starting arrived. Miss Single- 
 ton proposed that they should take a little turn; 
 but Mrs. Singleton seemed to think she would 
 have turns enough, one way or another, before 
 she reached the end of her journey, without any 
 self-inflicted ; so she declined, but told her daugh- 
 ter she might go if she liked ; and as Dacia thought 
 any thing better than sitting in that dreary room 
 with its sand-covered floor, she and Maxwell Avan- 
 dered out. In a few minutes they found them- 
 selves ascending the slope up to the old ramparts ; 
 and desolate and forlorn as they have of late years 
 become, there is yet a ruined beauty about them 
 rendering them interesting to strangers, still more 
 so to one who had seen so little beyond the pre- 
 cincts of her old country home as Dacia Singleton. 
 She could have lingered on, gazing at the broad,
 
 A BEITISH PARSON. Ill 
 
 open sea, and the sand-hills that stretch far along 
 the coast, but that she knew her mother would 
 fidget and worry if she was not back in ample time. 
 
 As they were walking with somewhat hurried 
 steps towards the " Flandre," Miss Singleton's 
 eyes were arrested by the strange figure of a 
 clergyman a Protestant clergyman with his sur- 
 plice on, walking rapidly down the Rue Royale, 
 the white garment floating in the breeze behind 
 him. 
 
 " What an extraordinary figure !" said Dacia. 
 
 " That's the English parson from Dunkerque," 
 said Maxwell. " The people at the hotel told me 
 he went there this morning just after he arrived." 
 
 " !" was Dacia's only reply, not feeling the 
 slightest interest in the man on account of his con- 
 nection with Dunkerque. Could she have seen into 
 the future, could she have known the power that 
 man was to exercise over her, could she have 
 guessed at one-third of the torture he would mer- 
 cilessly inflict on her, she would have prayed that 
 her young life might be taken before such sorrow 
 could accrue. 
 
 The second performance of an unpleasant deed
 
 112 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 is by no means so difficult to endure as the first. 
 Probably for this reason Mrs. Singleton arrived at 
 the terminus without declaring that her bones had 
 all been rattled together, or that she was incapable 
 of getting out of the omnibus without being lifted. 
 There was the usual confusion and bustle attending 
 their departure as attends all railway journeys, 
 especially on the Continent. There appear loads 
 of official people, but not one pair of hands willing 
 to lend themselves to help the parcel -laden tra- 
 vellers with their property into a carriage. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton had the greatest horror one 
 somewhat inherent in an Englishwoman of being 
 touched. Were a duke to have laid his hand on 
 her, she would, like a greater lady of our land 
 than herself, have drawn up her stately head and 
 told him "his grace forgot himself." But for a 
 railway-porter, or station-master, or whatever the 
 creature might call himself, to lay his coarse hand 
 on her crape sleeve and desire her to make haste, 
 was more than her temper or her sensitiveness 
 could endure. Her pale thin cheeks flushed, and 
 her eyes sparkled with anger, as, turning round, 
 she exclaimed in English,
 
 A BKITISH PAKSON. 113 
 
 "How dare you insult me! How dare you 
 touch me !" 
 
 " Est-ce qiCelle est folle cette dame! QiCest 
 qiCelle veut done ?" was all the redress she obtained 
 in words from the man of dirt. 
 
 " Non ; je suis femme, je ne suis pas folle /" 
 was her indignant reply. 
 
 At this moment Monsieur Robert made his 
 appearance, and in civil terms and good English 
 helped to smooth down Mrs. Singleton's ire, and 
 at last got them into the carriage, offering to do 
 any thing required ; and, in short, was as polite 
 and obliging as Monsieur Robert always is to all 
 who pass through Calais. 
 
 How Mrs. Singleton ascended that tremend- 
 ously steep step, she never knew ; the first thing 
 she became conscious of was, that she was seated 
 next to a huge colossal figure that was undraping 
 itself of a white garment. 
 
 " It's no use, ma'am, to talk to those people. 
 English, ma'am, I conclude ? Yes, of course. 
 Well, then, if you're about to make a long jour- 
 ney of it, take my advice and put up with their 
 ways. I used to kick against their libertd, fyalite, 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 and fraternite at first, but it was pure loss of time. 
 Empire or no empire, the corduroy class stick to it, 
 and will stick to it as long as the corduroy sticks to 
 them." 
 
 During this speech the gigantic figure con- 
 tinued the process of disrobing, till the surplice 
 was off. Then he rolled it up in a manner that 
 would have made his wife or his housekeeper, if 
 he possessed either of these men-necessities, scream 
 out at his want of thought. Certainly it never 
 could go on his broad shoulders again until an 
 iron had smoothed out the great big wrinkles he 
 must have occasioned. 
 
 " I am not going to make a long journey," 
 replied Mrs. Singleton, more politely than she 
 would have done to a stranger who had so ad- 
 dressed her in her own country. But even the 
 few hours she had passed in Calais had rendered 
 her peculiarly alive to the superiority, in her idea 
 at least, of the English over the French, to say no- 
 thing of her delight in meeting an Englishman at 
 all, though she knew full well that she would find 
 Dunkerque a very hot-bed of them. " My daughter 
 and I are going to pass the winter at Dunkerque."
 
 A BEITISH PARSON. 115 
 
 " God bless my soul ! Dunkerque ? Then 
 you are Mrs. Singleton and you Miss Singleton," 
 he added, turning slightly round towards Dacia : 
 but the moment his eye fell on her face, he started 
 in surprise ; merely, however, at finding such a 
 lovely fair face so near to him, and that he had 
 not instantly discovered it. 
 
 " I am Mrs. Singleton, and that is my daugh- 
 ter," she replied, with a little touch of haughtiness 
 in her tone. She did not understand how that 
 monster man could tell who she was. 
 
 " I am the British chaplain at Dunkerque," 
 said the parson, wishing to explain his reason for 
 being able to guess who his travelling companions 
 were, and at the same time desiring to ingratiate 
 himself into their good books a feat he did not 
 perform over successfully with the majority of 
 the residents at Dunkerque. " I am going back 
 now. I was sent for here to christen the child of 
 a friend of mine; so I took a return-ticket, and 
 left home at five this morning." 
 
 Immediately that Miss Singleton had set eyes 
 on the white gown, she recognised the owner as 
 the walking leviathan of the Eue Eoyale, and
 
 116 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 consequently, through Maxwell's information, as 
 the man who would have in his keeping the care 
 of the English Protestant souls at Dunkerque; 
 therefore his own introduction was no news to 
 her. She did not feel prepossessed either with 
 his appearance or manner. They certainly were 
 not calculated to strike the fancy of a young and 
 high-bred girl with any thing pleasant. 
 
 " You must be very anxious to get back, that 
 you started so early," said Mrs. Singleton more 
 as a remark to herself than a question to the 
 parson ; for the recollections of the previous morn- 
 ing's misery were still too vivid for her to contem- 
 plate the idea of early rising with any thing but 
 downright horror. 
 
 " Our Consul's ill, and I expect he'll be want- 
 ing to have a talk with me if he gets worse, and I 
 shouldn't like to be away. You see, Mrs. Single- 
 ton, clergymen are wanted at births and deaths 
 pretty well as much as the doctor. Here have I 
 been making a Christian of that squalling brat that 
 came into the world two days ago, and I shall have 
 to try and make a Christian of our Consul before 
 he leaves it. That'll be harder work for me, I
 
 A BRITISH PARSON. 117 
 
 fancy," he said, with a loud but short laugh. " I 
 expect it's all up with him." 
 
 " Do you mean he is dangerously ill ?" asked 
 Mrs. Singleton, fighting against her growing dis- 
 like to the British parson, that she might learn a 
 little of the t local news concerning the place that 
 was to be her future home. 
 
 " Very bad state indeed very. Lefevre said 
 he couldn't last if the symptoms didn't alter before 
 night." 
 
 " Lefevre is the French doctor, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes ; a clever feUow enough, I believe ; but 
 I like an Englishman if there's any thing bad at 
 work. I don't think those French fellows under- 
 stand our John Bull constitution." 
 
 " But has the Consul not English advice as 
 well ?" 
 
 " Bless you, he can't afford to send for an 
 English doctor from Paris or Brussels, and there 
 are none worth having any nearer. You know 
 we have none at all at Dunkerque, good, bad, or 
 indifferent." 
 
 " Good heavens !" exclaimed Mrs. Singleton, 
 in unfeigned dismay. " No English doctor I Do
 
 118 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 you hear that, Dacia? What shall I do? I 
 could never live in a place where there was not 
 an English doctor, and a clever one too." 
 
 Dacia had listened to all the conversation that 
 had passed, but in no way joined in it. She could 
 never bring herself to speak or show unnecessary 
 civility to any one for whom she entertained a feel- 
 ing of dislike, whether of recent or ancient acquain- 
 tanceship. She never understood the use of it; 
 consequently she never gave herself the trouble 
 cO attempt it. Every moment she felt her grow- 
 ing dislike to the British parson increase rapidly ; 
 therefore, with her head leaning back and her eyes 
 closed, she was resolving within herself that nothing 
 should ever induce her to be on otherwise than 
 bowing terms with that huge man. Now that her 
 mother addressed her, she was obliged to speak, but 
 she merely said : 
 
 " I daresay, mamma, you will find the doctors 
 that are there clever enough ;" and then resolutely 
 closed her great blue eyes again, causing her eye- 
 lashes to look like a deep silken fringe over- 
 shadowing her cheeks. 
 
 " You should never have fixed on a small
 
 A BKITISH PAESON. 119 
 
 continental town, ma'am, like Dunkerque to live 
 in, if you can't do without an English medical 
 man. And if we had one, I don't think we should 
 care much for him ; you see, it's only those that 
 are worth nothing who leave their own country. 
 If they are clever, they find plenty to do at home ; 
 if they are fools, they come over here ; but we are 
 better without them" 
 
 Dacia thought the same argument might ap- 
 ply to clergymen. If they are good men, they do 
 not seek to leave England ; but if they happen 
 to have a blot on their escutcheon you find them 
 located in out-of-the-way continental towns. She 
 was perhaps a little hard on them as a body, but 
 in the main she was not far wrong. Poverty 
 alone rarely causes a clergyman to leave his own 
 land, or health either ; but they are both conveni- 
 ent reasons to assign. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton was far too much occupied 
 with thoughts of what would become of her in a 
 place where she should have no doctor to drop 
 in two or three times a week and sympathise 
 with her ailments, real or imaginary, to continue 
 the conversation ; so the Reverend John Way had
 
 120 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 to relapse for a time into silence a proceeding to 
 which he entertained a natural antipathy. But 
 their reaching Hazebrouck was a break for him. 
 There they had to change carriages ; and Mr. Way 
 gathered up the two ladies' various packages in 
 his long powerful arms as if he were carrying a 
 few nuts instead of a couple of tolerably heavy 
 dressing-cases, a travelling-desk, two cloaks, a 
 railway-wrapper, and a bundle of umbrellas and 
 parasols ; to say nothing of his own bag, contain- 
 ing his surplice, and what besides he himself only 
 knew ; but it gave one the idea, by the numerous 
 round bulges that were shadowed out on it, that 
 he had been investing in apples with proportions 
 equalling his own. 
 
 Maxwell was very nearly left to go on with 
 the train to Paris; but, thanks to Miss Singleton's 
 thought and Mr. Way's great active strides, she 
 was dragged forth from the second-class carriage 
 she was seated in just as the train began to 
 move. If an English maid can be more useless 
 and troublesome at one time more than another, 
 it is when travelling abroad. 
 
 " We've a couple of hours before us here; the
 
 A BRITISH PARSON. 121 
 
 train doesn't come in that picks us up till three 
 o'clock," said Mr. Way. 
 
 " Two hours in a place like this, and with such a 
 man, will be unbearable," thought Dacia; and she 
 looked round in the vain hope of finding a book- 
 stall ; but the station at Hazebrouck then was not 
 what it is now, and nothing met her eyes, turn 
 which way she would, but the huge parson, who 
 seemed intent on making converse. 
 
 "Have you lived all your life in London?" 
 inquired Mr. Way in as quiet a tone as he could; 
 but his voice was naturally big and loud, like 
 himself. " You'll find a vast difference at Dunker- 
 que if you have ; it's an awfully slow place !" 
 
 " I have never lived in London," she replied 
 coldly, and walking off instantly to the opposite 
 end of the platform, where Maxwell was stand- 
 ing, like a solitary tall rock, amidst a sea of 
 boxes. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton was sitting on a hard, greasy, 
 yellow -painted bench outside the door of the 
 "buffet," looking any thing but happy, and in 
 the act of drawing her scent-bottle out from the 
 depths of a small travelling-bag.
 
 122 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Dacia, I wish you would look about and 
 see if there is not a ladies' room in which I 
 could lie down for an hour. Did you ever see 
 such an outlandish place to be detained at ?" 
 
 "It is dreary," replied her daughter; "but 
 it would be better, mamma, if that horrid man 
 were not with us; he looks more fit for a prize- 
 fighter than " Here the parson came up. " I'll 
 look for a room," said Dacia, moving off. 
 
 " A room do you want ? 0, there's one in 
 here. Look, Miss Singleton let me show you." 
 
 " Thank you I daresay I can find it; I won't 
 trouble you." 
 
 However, trouble or no trouble, the parson 
 continued his unappreciated attentions to mother 
 and daughter to say nothing of the share for 
 which Maxwell came in whether they wanted 
 them or did not want them, till they reached 
 Dunkerque, where, fortunately for them, they 
 were delivered from his overpowering person and 
 civilities by his finding the Percivals waiting for 
 them at the station; and the Percivals and the 
 parson agreed no better than fire and water. 
 
 A warm greeting took place between Mrs.
 
 A BRITISH PARSON. 123 
 
 Singleton and Mrs. Percival ; Dacia came in for 
 her share of welcome, but chiefly as her mother's 
 daughter, not on her own account, for they had 
 never met before. 
 
 " I hardly expected you ; but we walked down 
 on chance. Yesterday George came twice. Did 
 any thing happen to delay you?" And with 
 such questions and explanatory replies did they 
 pass the interval between their leaving the sta- 
 tion and reaching the Hotel du Chapeau Rouge, 
 where, for a day or two at least, it was arranged 
 the Singletons were to put up. 
 
 A quaint old-fashioned house is the Chapeau 
 Rouge; something like a posting-house inn of 
 old England in days of yore, so not likely to 
 suit the fastidious taste of Mrs. Singleton.
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 A WHOLE week of unmitigated misery did the 
 Singletons pass at the hotel. Mrs. Singleton, 
 because she would not allow any thing or any 
 one to be right in any matter they good-naturedly 
 undertook to see or do for her; and Dacia, be- 
 cause of the humour her mother indulged her- 
 self in. 
 
 The day following their arrival Sunday 
 Mrs. Singleton remained in her bed till the even- 
 ing, and then only getting up for her dinner, of 
 which she ate exceedingly well, but grumbled at 
 it as much as if it had been uneatable. Dacia 
 was not allowed to move out of the house, and 
 Maxwell hardly out of her mistress's bedroom. 
 She maintained she was very ill; and the know- 
 ledge of there being no English doctor at hand 
 did make her nervous ; of that there was no doubt ;
 
 THE NEW HOME. 125 
 
 but beyond that point which was real, she had 
 nothing wrong with her but her temper. Mrs. 
 Percival, a pretty, gentle, kind woman, whom Mrs. 
 Singleton had known in her girlhood, came and 
 sat by her, and chatted her into temporary quie- 
 tude; but the moment she left, she was as bad 
 as ever. It was always her head she fixed on as 
 the seat of her ailment when nothing really was 
 amiss for then she could with apparent reason 
 complain if the slightest noise were made, and 
 accuse her daughter or her maid of heartless 
 indifference to her state. 
 
 " I wonder what Cis is doing," she said, her 
 eyes wandering languidly round the by com- 
 parison with English bedrooms, but not otherwise 
 comfortless-looking apartment. 
 
 "I suppose they have just done dinner, and 
 are thinking about tea," replied Miss Singleton, 
 whose patience had been sorely tried all day, and 
 at last had arrived at that point which made her 
 feel neither amiable towards others nor herself; 
 so she answered somewhat abruptly ; also fearing, 
 if once her mother got on the subject of Cecily, 
 she might draw the usual comparisons she in-
 
 126 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 variably did between her two daughters, and so 
 not improve her present sensations of irritability ; 
 she added, " I am very sleepy and heavy, inamina ; 
 I think I will go to bed." 
 
 "You are sleepy, then, from doing nothing; 
 however, go if you are inclined. I have no 
 right to expect you would devote half an hour 
 to me." 
 
 il Why, I have devoted the whole day to you," 
 said Dacia ; and then, fearing to trust herself fur- 
 ther, she kissed Mrs. Singleton who turned her 
 cheek towards her for that purpose and went off 
 to her own room, which was adjoining, though, 
 fortunately for her, not communicating with her 
 mother's. 
 
 The next day and the day after were slight 
 improvements on the unlucky Sunday, for they 
 were chiefly spent out of doors; but even the 
 amusement Dacia might have derived from watch- 
 ing the strange manners and customs of a people 
 that to familiar eyes have nothing noticeable in 
 them, but to one who has never before been on 
 foreign ground are peculiarly eccentric and novel, 
 was denied her, from the unpleasant feeling she
 
 THE NEW HOME. 127 
 
 had about the way her mother was dragging 
 Mrs. Percival from house to house, as if that 
 lady were in Dunkerque wholly and solely to be 
 made use of, and act as house-agentess on the 
 occasion. 
 
 However, by the Wednesday, apartments, the 
 most suitable that had been seen, were secured ; 
 but it was impossible for them to be ready till the 
 Friday, and on a Friday Mrs. Singleton vowed 
 nothing should induce her to take possession. 
 She had left London on a Friday; and though 
 no calamity had ensued, she declared she had 
 suffered and gone through so much, that she 
 would not run the risk of any further annoyance 
 by taking another important step on such a luck- 
 less day. Therefore it was not till Saturday that 
 they took up then* abode in a suite of rooms on 
 the first floor of a tolerably-sized house in the 
 Rue de 1'Eglise, number 42. 
 
 The Rue de 1'Eglise is a wide street leading 
 from the Grand Place, or Place Jean Bart, down 
 to the port. A street of shops ; but it was none 
 the worse for that. The rooms were well enough 
 when once you were in them ; but a long, narrow,
 
 128 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 dark stone passage had to be gone through before 
 you reached the staircase, which, though tolerably 
 wide, was carpetless, and equally dark as the pass- 
 age. On ascending, you came to a broad, open 
 landing ; a door on the left led to the kitchen ; but 
 continuing straight on, passing through an ante- 
 room, the drawing-room was reached. It was a 
 long narrow room ; this arose from the room ad- 
 joining, which was the dining-room, having once 
 formed a part of it. The drawing-room was fur- 
 nished with all the pretty comfortless articles the 
 French are so fond of amassing together in their 
 salons. A dark-green velvet-covered sofa, with 
 white and gold a little faded woodwork around 
 it, was pleasing enough to the eye, but utterly 
 useless as a thing to rest on ; chairs to match, in 
 every sense, for they made the back ache to sit 
 on them for any length of time. A table at one 
 end of the room, with a gorgeous Turkish-pat- 
 terned cover over it ; the window-curtains being 
 of the same material and design. Several look- 
 ing-glasses, a couple of small gilt tables with 
 marble tops; a green-velvet-covered knife-board 
 on the chimney-piece, studded round with brass
 
 THE NEW HOME. 129 
 
 sugar-loaf shaped nails, such as are used for 
 ornamenting a coffin; on it stood that one inse- 
 parable and useful ornament, supplied in every 
 room on the Continent a clock, white marble 
 and ormolu, and branch candlesticks to corre- 
 spond; a polished floor, with a strip of carpet, 
 answering to what we should call a rug, in front 
 of the fire-place, which was for burning wood 
 only ; a couple of green-velvet footstools ; and 
 you have before you if you imagine the paper 
 on the walls to be white the room that struck 
 Mrs. Singleton's fancy so much at first sight, 
 that she resolved to conclude the matter of hiring 
 the apartments, without looking further. 
 
 But you may as well do at once what Mrs. 
 Singleton allowed Mrs. Percival and her daugh- 
 ter do without her ; that is, see the rest of the 
 rooms, and then have done with it. 
 
 The dining-room, which we have seen adjoined 
 the drawing-room, but did not communicate, con- 
 tained a deal table, painted to look something 
 like red mahogany, long and large, filling up the 
 room more than was necessaiy or convenient. 
 A movable cupboard of the same wood, with 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 shelves inside, and one deep drawer at tlie bottom 
 it looked more suited to a bed-room ; eight 
 straw -bottomed chairs; the floor painted the 
 same as the table ; gray-papered walls, with a 
 large hideous print of Louis Philippe, and another 
 of his good queen Amelie, hanging up ; and there 
 is the dining-room as it was then, and perhaps 
 as it still is. 
 
 The bed-rooms were on the same floor, at the 
 back of the house; but there was such an extent 
 of space in the way of landings, that it seemed 
 almost like a separate house. Ground-rent, one 
 would think, was not very high at Dunkerque, 
 by the reckless manner they squander room. Two 
 good-sized apartments, however, were reached at 
 last, communicating one with the other in such 
 a manner that the farthest one could only be 
 reached througli the first, or else by going right 
 away back to where one came to the end of the 
 stone passage leading from the entrance-door to 
 the staircase, and by groping one's way up an- 
 other flight, darker and drearier stiU which, if 
 not quite so long, seemed longer from its dismal- 
 ness and then another, narrower and steeper, at
 
 THE NEW HOME. 131 
 
 the immediate top of which was the door open- 
 ing into this second bed-room. It was the largest 
 room of the two, and perhaps a little better fur- 
 nished ; but there was nothing to complain of on 
 this head in either of the rooms. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton, of course, appropriated this 
 one to herself; one reason being, it was up these 
 back stairs on the floor above Maxwell's room 
 was situated, and so far, therefore, it was con- 
 venient; another cause for her choice was its 
 being the best room ; and the last, that she, of 
 course, could pass through her daughter's when- 
 ever it suited her, but it never would have done for 
 her daughter to have made hers a passage-room. 
 
 Dacia was perfectly satisfied ; she was so very 
 glad to be in any place that was tolerably nice- 
 looking, and that appeared to please her mother, 
 that it is doubtful whether she would have de- 
 murred at any arrangement that could have been 
 suggested. And if any thought crossed her mind of 
 the difference between the home she had hitherto 
 had and her present one, no word was uttered in 
 regret, and no look betrayed what she might feel. 
 
 The rent was to be one hundred francs a
 
 132 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 month, which appeared to Mrs. Singleton what 
 she termed ridiculously cheap. She was, for a 
 short time, something like a child with a new toy; 
 she was pleased with every thing pulling the 
 furniture about, having it removed from one place 
 to another, and then put back again to the original 
 spot. But once the novelty over and it lasted 
 little over a week the old story began ; the smell- 
 ing-bottle was in constant requisition, her head 
 was always bad, the light affected her eyes, the 
 noise of the great lumbering vehicles that occa- 
 sionally passed, the rattling of that horrid omnibus 
 that went to and fro from the Place to the beach 
 from morning till night, were sore trials to her 
 delicate nerves. 
 
 Then the servant, her Flemish cook and house- 
 maid in England called a servant-of-all-work 
 was for ever being guilty of some piece of stu- 
 pidity, that caused Babette many a time and oft 
 to suffer from her mistress's displeasure. 
 
 She was a young, pretty-looking woman, with 
 a slight cast in her eye, which, however, in no way 
 deteriorated from her good looks, but, on the con- 
 trary, gave her an arch expression no way dis-
 
 THE NEW HOME. 133 
 
 agreeable. She could not understand the art of 
 roasting; and had she been bom and bred in 
 England, and roasting all her life, her knowledge 
 would have been of no avail, as the necessary 
 kind of fireplace for such a purpose did not exist 
 in all Dunkerque. But sometimes Mrs. Singleton 
 took it into her head that nothing was wholesome 
 but plainly roasted meat ; and not getting it, she 
 declared what she did get she could not digest. 
 Then came the terrible thought that there was no 
 English doctor ; and to add to her trouble on this 
 score, she unluckily heard from the gossip of the 
 town, Miss Chorley known by the sobriquet of 
 Chattering Chorley -that M. Lefevre was a re- 
 tired army surgeon, and had served in various 
 campaigns under the great Napoleon. 
 
 " The idea of a military doctor having any 
 notion of what is necessary for a woman ! Why, 
 he can only be fit to attend a hospital where 
 nothing but accidents are taken in. I am sure I 
 do not know what Avill become of me. Remember, 
 if I die, Dacia, I will not be buried in this horrible 
 country. Your sister must bear the expense that 
 would attend such an event."
 
 134 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 And after the delivery of some such remark, 
 to which Dacia always made a soothing reply 
 when her temper had not been over-taxed, Mrs. 
 Singleton would close her eyes and inhale her 
 salts, till some visitor or other occurrence took 
 place to interrupt her monotonous dulness. 
 
 Dacia Singleton was but mortal, and had her 
 faults and failings, like the rest of us. At the 
 period of her father's illness and death, and for 
 some months subsequent to it, she had borne with 
 her mother's tiresome ways patiently and kindly ; 
 but her capabilities of endurance were gradually 
 wearing away from being over-taxed. She fre- 
 quently let Mrs. Singleton talk on without taking 
 any notice of what she said; or perhaps, what 
 was worse 1 still, she made some reply not at all 
 calculated to improve her groaning, complaining 
 temper. 
 
 But notwithstanding the incessant worrying 
 she was subject to at home, Dacia was by no 
 means unhappy. She was still too young to set 
 much value on the luxuries that wealth alone can 
 give, and that she now for the first time found 
 herself without ; but the recollection of the past,
 
 THE NEW HOME. 135 
 
 still so recent, often made her pause when about 
 to give one of her hasty answers to her mother ; 
 for she was certain, whatever she herself did, that 
 her mother must feel their loss severely. 
 
 It was a cold dismal afternoon, towards the 
 latter end of October. Mrs. Singleton was sitting 
 in a prie-dieu chair before the fire ; her daughter 
 was by the window, before a large piece of framed 
 embroidery, which she was puzzling her head over. 
 There was a mistake somewhere, which caused the 
 lion's eye to appear in such a position that it gave 
 him a very knowing look a kind of squint. She 
 was working James Moncrieffe's arms for a fire- 
 screen. She had counted the stitches twenty times 
 at least, from fore-paw to ear, but in vain; she 
 could not make out where the error lay. 
 
 " Dacia, give me the second volume of this 
 book. Here is the first, if you want it. It is very 
 stupid, but perhaps you will not find it so." 
 
 " Three yellow, two silk, five no ; two, three, 
 four, five yes, five of the next shade " 
 
 " Dacia." 
 
 " One moment, mamma. I think I see where 
 it is now."
 
 136 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Why, it's on the table, child." 
 
 " How tiresome of you, mamma ! You have 
 made me lose the point I was counting from. I 
 shall have to begin all over again. I wish the 
 horrid thing were finished, or that I had never 
 begun it. What is it you asked me for I" 
 
 " You pay no more attention to what I say 
 than if I never spoke at all. I asked you for the 
 second volume of tin's book ; but I can get it my- 
 self." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton made a semblance of moving, 
 but Dacia was up in a moment, and handed her 
 mother the book she had asked for. 
 
 " That work has put me out of patience, 
 mamma dear. I was not purposely inattentive to 
 you. Won't you have the stool for your feet?" 
 she added, pushing the footstool within reach. 
 " You can hardly see to read now, can you ?" 
 
 " If you can see to work on that fine canvas, 
 I surely may be able to read good-sized print. I 
 can see as well as most people, if I am not so 
 young as I used to be. Who is that ?"
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MISS CHOELEY. 
 
 MKS. SINGLETON heard the approach of footsteps. 
 A moment after, Babette appeared, and announced 
 Miss Chorley, who followed close behind, walking 
 with short quick little steps. 
 
 Miss Chorley was a maiden lady, who was 
 cheerily going on to meet the twilight of life. 
 She must have been five-and-forty, if she was a 
 day. She was small in stature, and not great in 
 mind ; but she made up for both in heart, which, 
 when you knew her, seemed too big for this world. 
 Her face (a little round face so like a cat's, 
 though there was nothing cat-like in her nature) 
 always wore a smile. She smiled at every thing ; 
 she smiled at every body. Nothing yet had ever 
 been known to startle her into aught beyond a 
 smile not a benignant smile, but a cheery merry 
 smile. This had been so during her fifteen years'
 
 138 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 residence at Dunkerque ; but what happened 
 before that no one knew. One felt impressed, on 
 first becoming acquainted with her, that either she 
 had no heart at all, or that she had never known 
 sorrow : which impression was as incorrect as many 
 impressions are. 
 
 She was a good little soul, and, though known 
 as Chattering Chorley, when she retailed scandal 
 she smiled out the words ; they were not spitefully 
 spoken. I do not think she would wittingly, and 
 assuredly never willingly, have pained the feelings 
 even of her greatest antipathy ; and she enter- 
 tained, to the uttermost extent of what she could 
 feel, an aversion to the Rev. John Way, but she 
 rarely spoke ill-naturedly of him. 
 
 It was this little individual who came in op- 
 portunely, and disturbed the not over- pleasant 
 tete-a-tete between Mrs. and Miss Singleton. 
 
 " All, how do you do, my dear Mrs. Singleton? 
 and how are you, Miss Dacia, this dull day?" 
 
 Miss Chorley, after receiving the ordinary- 
 replies to such ordinary questions, seated herself 
 on the sofa, which was about the most uncomfort- 
 able seat in the room for Miss Chorley, her legs
 
 MISS CHOKLEY. 139 
 
 being too short to touch the ground ; but then the 
 sofa was so placed that when she was on it her 
 back was to the light; and she, like most other 
 women who have well got over their premiere 
 jeunesse, was quite alive to the fact that the broad 
 glare of light that falls full on the face when oppo- 
 site a window is not becoming. If you will notice 
 women who have passed the rough corner of forty, 
 you will see how careful they are to avoid day- 
 light : not that Miss Chorley admitted herself to 
 be any thing like that age. I think she hardly 
 believed herself more than three or four-and- 
 thirty; so often had she asserted it, that she now 
 seemed to accept it as a truth. 
 
 It is very singular the effect produced on one's 
 individual credulity even against certain positive 
 knowledge if one systematically, for any length 
 of period, steadily persists in an opposite statement. 
 It certainly does in time obliterate the truth from 
 one's memory, or if not entirely, quite sufficiently 
 for one's conscience to take it easily. In the case 
 of a lady's age, it does not much matter how old 
 she calls herself; whether true or false, she is never 
 believed.
 
 ] 40 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 "I have come to ask you to sign a petition, 
 Mrs. Singleton." 
 
 Will the reader kindly bear in mind that Miss 
 Chorley is always smiling : if this is done, it will 
 save an infinity of trouble, as it will be unnecessary 
 to repeat the fact every time she speaks. 
 
 " A petition !" said Dacia ; " for what, and to 
 whom, Miss Chorley?" 
 
 " If you will have patience, I daresay you will 
 hear," said Mrs. Singleton. 
 
 " A petition for a consul, my dear Miss Single- 
 ton. You see, since poor dear Mr. Sar's death, 
 which took place now I don't know hoAv many 
 w r eeks ago, no one has been nominated in his place ; 
 and it's very dull without a consul ; so all the Eng- 
 lish residents are signing a petition that we may 
 not only have a consul sent here immediately, but 
 also that a Mr. Ivor Campbell may be appointed ; 
 and when it is all signed and prepared, dear old 
 Mr. Butler intends sending it over to his son, that 
 he may forward it to the Foreign Office. Isn't 
 Ivor Campbell a romantic name, Miss Dacia ? I 
 think it delicious. You will sign it of course, Mrs. 
 Singleton?"
 
 MISS CHOKLEY. 141 
 
 " If my name is really necessary, I shall not 
 like to refuse," said Mrs. Singleton, in a tone 
 which implied that she considered her name worth 
 a good deal, and that she hoped others would do 
 the same ; for she added, " the name of Singleton 
 is so well known in England that I should not like 
 to append my signature to any paper that might 
 come before my friends there, unless quite assured 
 it was for the appointment of a proper and fitting 
 person." 
 
 Miss Chorley was quite the wrong kind of 
 woman for Mrs. Singleton to expend her grand 
 ideas on, they were all lost on her ; she only smiled 
 out an " Of course, of course," and laid the paper, 
 which contained a humble petition to the Secretary 
 of State for Foreign Affairs, &c. &c. &c., from the 
 loyal and devoted subjects of her most gracious 
 Majesty residing at Dunkerque, &c. &c. &c., that 
 Mr. Ivor Campbell might be appointed, and so forth. 
 
 " The list is headed by that gigantic monster 
 of a parson," said Miss Chorley, in a tone that 
 would not have left any one with the impression 
 that she hated the man as much as her kind heart 
 could hate, for she smiled it out as usual, and con-
 
 142 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 tinued, " You see, the clergyman here is supposed 
 to take precedence of every one ; but / think 
 Mr. Butler should, Mr. Butler, who has been a 
 resident here for upwards of twenty years, and 
 such a dear, dear, good old man. If Mr. Butler 
 left Dunkerque, I am sure I should ; I don't think 
 Dunkerque would be Dunkerque without him." 
 
 " I should be jealous of you, Miss Chorley, if I 
 were Mrs. Butler," said Dacia, laughing. 
 
 " O no, Miss Dacia, you would not. Besides," 
 she added with her usual smile, as if the thing was 
 a capital joke instead of a terrible affliction, " you 
 know she's blind." 
 
 Miss Singleton felt inclined to say that she 
 thought that was an extra reason why the poor old 
 lady might be jealous, for surely no man, even as 
 old as Mr. Butler (this was merely Dacia's idea), 
 would be likely to fall in love with Chattering 
 Chorley; but then if Mrs. Butler could not see, 
 she might imagine her as attractive as she was 
 obliging and good-natured. 
 
 " Mrs. Sars, I hear, is left with her large family 
 without a shilling," said Miss Chorley. " It is very 
 sad ; I wonder what she will do ?"
 
 MISS CHORLEY. 143 
 
 " Surely slie will receive a pension ?" said Mrs' 
 Singleton. 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. There is no pension 
 for consuls' widows. It is a great shame, I think ; 
 especially when they have children. How can she 
 support eight children on nothing? Why, the 
 thing is impossible. Mr. Butler gave her a hand- 
 some present before she left, dear good man ; he 
 only lives to do kind things. I don't think con- 
 suls have any right to marry unless they have 
 private fortunes. But I must be running away, 
 Mrs. Singleton ; so will you please sign this ?" and 
 she held up her petition. 
 
 " O yes, if you assure me that this Mr. Ivor 
 Campbell is a gentleman." 
 
 " I hear he is the most fascinating creature in 
 the world ; all the young ladies will fall in love 
 with him directly, he is so charming, though we 
 have not a great many here to do so ; and those 
 that there are, you have put quite in the shade, 
 Miss Singleton. We used to think Leonie Her- 
 vieu a beauty till you came. Do you know the 
 name that has been given you?" 
 
 " No," she replied a little curtly, and blushing.
 
 144 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 She had the greatest dislike to hear her beauty 
 spoken of in that abrupt matter-of-fact sort of way ; 
 she was as pleased as any other girl would be when 
 admiration reached her in a legitimate manner, 
 but not otherwise. Had she never known before 
 that she possessed no ordinary share of nature's 
 best gift to a woman, she could not long have re- 
 mained ignorant of it at Dunkerque ; for hardly a 
 day passed without something occurring to force 
 the knowledge on her. 
 
 " The Rose of D|Uikerque ! Isn't it a pretty 
 idea. But I won't tcJl you who first called you so, 
 for fear, you know, ojt^ctoisequences." Miss Chor- 
 ley's face perfectlyw^pbd. 
 
 " I am not curior.^" replied Dacia, with an in- 
 difference Miss Clr]fey could not the least under- 
 
 - f~ i 
 
 stand. "But nevermind talking about me, Miss 
 Chorley. Tell me, Is the ball ever h'kely to come 
 off that I have heard spoken of ever since I came 
 here?" 
 
 " I am sure, Dacia, I don't know that you can 
 care about there being a ball or not, for I do not 
 see how you could go." 
 
 Dacia gave a look of dismay at her mother.
 
 MISS CHOELEY. 145 
 
 " You forget my state of health ; I am not fit 
 to go to a ball ; I should catch my death of cold 
 if I attempted such a piece of folly ; besides the 
 deep mourning I am still wearing." 
 
 " But, mamma, surely you would try and go ? 
 your being in mourning would not signify ; and if 
 you wrapped up well, I don't think it would hurt 
 you. I should so like to go to a French ball." 
 
 " Well, well, there is plenty of time to think 
 about it, when the ball is decided on actually being 
 given." 
 
 " You know, Miss Dacia, the ball was intended 
 to be given in honour of our new consul ; but as 
 no consul has come, I think it,, ought to be given 
 just the same, to prevent the young people being 
 disappointed." 
 
 " Yes, and give another when the consul does 
 come," suggested Dacia. 
 
 " A capital idea, Miss Singleton capital ; I 
 will tell the ladies of the committee what you say." 
 
 "I hope, Miss Chorley, you will do no such 
 thing, for " 
 
 Mrs. Singleton was interrupted in what she 
 might have been about to say by the stentorian 
 
 YOL. I. L
 
 14() DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 voice of Mr. Way, who came in just at that mo- 
 ment, accompanied by Mr. Butler, exclaiming, 
 
 " Ha ! we've caught you, ladies ; at it as usual. 
 Gossip and slander, eh V 
 
 Mrs. Singleton gave her thin delicate hand to 
 Mr. Way, who proffered his huge fist ; but Miss 
 Singleton chose to be as blind on the occasion as 
 poor Mrs. Butler was, and saluted him with a 
 haughty bow. To Mr. Butler, however, she gave 
 her pretty little hand, and a sweet smile of wel- 
 come. Many would have envied him that smile. 
 
 Mr. Butler was Mrs. Percival's father, and so, 
 to a certain extent, was no stranger to the Single- 
 tons, though personally he had remained unknown 
 to them till they went to reside at Dunkerque. He 
 was a frequent visitor in the Rue de 1'Eglise now. 
 Mrs. Singleton liked him exceedingly; he was 
 about the only person in the whole town she did 
 like ; and she could make herself pleasant enough 
 when it suited her, and doubly so if she could com- 
 mence by telling all her grievances; for having 
 once let her tongue have full play on the subject, 
 she gradually dropped it, and became an agreeable 
 companion. Mr. Butler had had enough tact to
 
 MISS CHORLEY. 147 
 
 find this out, and allowed himself to be treated as 
 she had always treated her medical adviser; he 
 willingly paid the penalty of listening and sympa- 
 thising with all her troubles, to be afterwards en- 
 tertained by sensible conversation an article not 
 easily procured in Dunkerque. 
 
 He had met Mr. Way en route ; and Mr. Way 
 having an instinctive feeling that the Singletons 
 liked him no better than the rest of the English 
 residents, was glad of an opportunity to pay them 
 a visit with Mr. Butler instead of alone. However, 
 he did not remain long ; he found it neither amus- 
 ing nor pleasant ; and when he rose to leave there 
 was no symptom of regret on any one's face. 
 
 "You look as merry as ever, Miss Chorley," 
 he said, as he bid that lady good-bye. 
 
 "O yes, Mr. Way; I have nothing weighing 
 on me much." 
 
 " The time will come, the time will come ; 
 you're like a young bear, with all your troubles 
 before you." 
 
 Miss Chorley liked to be compared to young 
 people human people. I don't know, though, 
 that she relished being likened to a bear; how-
 
 148 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 ever, she smiled over it all the same ; but she 
 expressed her great delight when Mr. Way was 
 gone. 
 
 *'And I think Til go too now, as you have 
 come, Mr. Butler, or Miss Singleton will declare 
 it was an assignation. I will go and see Mrs. 
 Butler. I am sure to find her at home, am I 
 not?" 
 
 " Ah, do, Miss Chorley ; you will find her in 
 her old arm-chair, and glad to see you. You're a 
 great favourite of hers, you know," replied the old 
 man. 
 
 " So, if you cannot enjoy the broad sunshine," 
 said Dacia laughingly, "you will go where the 
 effect of its brightness still lingers." 
 
 " O, you wicked girl !" said Miss Chorley, hold- 
 ing up her finger and shaking it menacingly at 
 Dacia ; " some day I shall pay you off for this." 
 And off the little smiling lady trotted. 
 
 "A good soul that, but not overburdened 
 here" said Mr. Butler, touching his forehead with 
 his finger, and seating himself in front of the fire 
 by Mrs. Singleton's side, giving evident intentions 
 of paying a long visit. So Dacia, glad to have
 
 MISS CHORLEY. 149 
 
 half an hour to herself, left her mother and visitor 
 to their tete-a-tete talk. 
 
 As Dacia passed the door that opened into the 
 kitchen, she heard a man's voice speaking in a 
 somewhat angry tone. Without much thought 
 she opened the door and looked in, more to re- 
 mind Babette to be punctual with her mother's 
 five-o'clock tea, which Dunkerque hours had not 
 yet made her give up, than from any curiosity. It 
 was hearing some one speaking that made her re- 
 member Babette's thoughtlessness on that head, 
 for it flashed across her that some friend had 
 dropped in and would probably chatter on, and 
 the tea a no unusual occurrence be forgotten. 
 
 Her astonishment may be conceived when her 
 eyes fell on the monster form of Mr. Way, one 
 hand resting 011 Babette's shoulder, the other hold- 
 ing one of hers. His back was turned towards the 
 door ; but as there were never two backs like the 
 parson's at any rate, in Dunkerque Dacia had 
 no difficulty in instantly recognising him, even be- 
 fore the opening of the door had caused him to 
 turn round. 
 
 " O mademoiselle," cried Babette, " monsieur
 
 150 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 le ministre only came to to offer rne a little good 
 advice." 
 
 She spoke in a confused and bewildered man- 
 ner, and her face, which before was flushed, now 
 became pale. 
 
 Dacia knew no wrong ; but an instinctive re- 
 pugnance she felt towards the parson gave her a 
 notion that he could know no right. 
 
 "Babette and I have long been at religious 
 enmity," said Mr. Way in a jocose tone, but evi- 
 dently put on. He was clearly not at his ease. 
 " And I was just making an attempt to try and 
 bring her to see the error of her ways. You know 
 we Protestants are supposed to be lukewarm in 
 making converts; now I want to wipe out that 
 stain that has been thrown upon us." 
 
 Dacia's tall figure was drawn up to its full 
 height, and her face but gained in beauty from 
 the angry colour that mounted to her cheeks as 
 she replied, " Religion that only produces enmity 
 can be of little worth. If you are endeavouring 
 to change Babette's beh'ef, I think your manner of 
 trying is not calculated to bring success. This is 
 neither a fitting tune nor place for such a purpose."
 
 MISS CHOELEY. 151 
 
 Dacia thought any familiarity between a man 
 holding the position of a gentleman more espe- 
 cially that of a clergyman and a servant, so op- 
 posite to all she considered gentlemanly, and so 
 different to all she had ever witnessed amongst 
 those she had been accustomed to associate with, 
 that though she was not surprised for she thought 
 Mr. Way could be guilty of any objectionable act 
 from that moment her aversion to him became so 
 great she could barely be civil to him. 
 
 When he left, which he did rather hurriedly 
 and a little disconcerted, Miss Singleton told Ba- 
 bette very quietly that she did not think her 
 mother would be pleased at what had happened. 
 The poor girl then burst into tears, and entreated 
 her young mistress not to tell Mrs. Singleton not 
 to .tell any one. She promised in the most em- 
 phatic manner that Mr. Way should never, never 
 go into the kitchen again ; and so Dacia, to com- 
 fort her, gave the required promise. It' might 
 have been better for Babette had Dacia been 
 more worldly-wise and less gentle-hearted. How- 
 ever, beyond the increased aversion it produced 
 for the parson, the whole affair passed from her
 
 152 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 mind after a little, and she thought no more of it, 
 till it was recalled to her memory by subsequent 
 events ; then it stood out in broad relief, and 
 caused her much self-reproach for having so readily 
 acceded to poor Babette's request.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A DUNKERQUE SOIREE. 
 
 "MAMMA, were you in earnest the other day 
 when you said, that if the ball that has been so 
 much talked about takes place, you would not be 
 able to go I" asked Miss Singleton of her mother 
 one evening when they were sitting together alone. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton inhaled a good supply of am- 
 monia from her bottle, closing her eyes each time 
 she inhaled it, before she replied to her daughter's 
 question, and then it was only a vague answer. 
 
 "I cannot understand, Dacia, what attraction 
 you expect to find at a ball in such a place as 
 this, that you desire so much to go. The class 
 of people you would meet are all inferior to those 
 you have been accustomed to associate with ; then 
 it will be a public ball and public balls are not 
 proper things for young ladies to go to, unless they
 
 154 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 have a large party of their, own friends that they 
 can keep with." 
 
 It was a long speech for Mrs. Singleton, but it 
 was not spoken uninterruptedly ; the salts were 
 several times in requisition, and the fan too once 
 or twice, for the room had become insufferably 
 hot : there was a fire large enough for the coldest 
 winter day, and it was but a chilly autumn even- 
 ing. However, Mrs. Singleton would have a roar- 
 ing fire, and so there it was. 
 
 " But, mamma, it won't be like a public ball in 
 England ; we shall know every one who is there, 
 and I should so much like to go. I was thinking, 
 if you won't take me yourself, nor let me go with 
 the Percivals, that we might ask Mum to come 
 over; you know she did promise to come before 
 Christmas. Wouldn't you be glad to see her 
 dear good kind face, mamma?" 
 
 " Of course I should be very glad to see your 
 aunt," said Mrs. Singleton, in a tone that made 
 the " of course" excessively doubtful ; " but it is 
 impossible to ask her, for there is no room for 
 her." 
 
 " Yes, mamma, there is," hastily replied Dacia.
 
 A DUNKERQUE SOIREE. 155 
 
 " There is an empty room next to Maxwell's, and 
 a very nice one. I could go up there, and let Mum 
 have mine." 
 
 "That would not do. Mum could not have 
 your room, for in that case I could not pass in 
 and out of it. However, I will go up and see 
 the room you speak of to-morrow. But as to 
 . the ball, if you are so anxious to go, I must go 
 with you myself. It would not be proper for you 
 to go with any one but your mother to such an 
 entertainment." 
 
 Dacia, under the influence of an intense grati- 
 tude she instantly experienced at her mother's 
 contemplated self-sacrifice, jumped up, and putting 
 her arm round her neck, kissed her forehead. 
 
 "Take care, Dacia, you are crushing my 
 collar," was the acknowledgment of the caress, 
 spoken in a fretful tone, and pushing her daughter 
 from her. 
 
 Dacia sat down again and sighed. How she 
 longed to be loved by her mother, as she felt she 
 could have loved her, had she only shown the 
 slightest affection for her! Not that she did not 
 feel any, but her manner was cold and repelling.
 
 156 DACIA SINGLETOX. 
 
 All Dacia's advances were met in the same way ; 
 yet Mrs. Singleton could be demonstrative, and 
 was so at times, but never with Dacia. 
 
 After a pause Mrs. Singleton moved her chair 
 a little back from the fire like a doo; that had 
 
 O 
 
 lain till he could endure the heat no longer, and 
 then walked panting away. She took up a book, 
 and began turning the leaves over to find her 
 place. 
 
 " Is it not to-night the Hervieus asked us ?" 
 she inquired. 
 
 "Yes, I wish you had gone, mamma. I am 
 sure you would like the place better if you would 
 but go out a little ; it is pleasant enough." 
 
 " It may be pleasant to you, but it is intoler- 
 able to me. Not any one in the place, unless it 
 be the Percivals and Butlers, that can be called 
 our equals ; a set of people who have left their 
 own country either because they cannot afford to 
 live in it, or because they have done something 
 that debars them from remaining there." 
 
 Dacia looked up. " Why then, mamma, they 
 are our equals, at least the first you named; for 
 we are here because we cannot afford to live in
 
 A DUNKERQUE SOIREE. 157 
 
 England, or, at least, not in the way we have 
 been accustomed to." 
 
 "I think my own child might at all events 
 spare me the humiliation of taunting me with my 
 poverty," said Mrs. Singleton in a whining tone ; 
 a very different one to what she had spoken in 
 when discussing other people's circumstances. 
 
 "Taunt you, mamma! O, how you misun- 
 derstand me !" 
 
 "Well, well, don't become sentimental. I 
 cannot bear romantic people ; and you are very 
 much given, Dacia, to romance, though where you 
 get it from, or who you take it after, I am sure I 
 cannot tell; for neither your father nor I ever 
 had a particle of it." 
 
 " The last thing in the world to accuse me of," 
 said Dacia ; " I hardly know what it means." 
 
 " Why, the ridiculous fancy you took at first 
 sight to that tall, pale, sickly young man we met 
 at Cecily's ; that w r as romantic." 
 
 " You mean Mr. Marsden ?" 
 
 " Of course I do ; it was highly absurd of 
 you." 
 
 " Poor man ! I merely felt interested in him
 
 158 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 because it struck me as sad, very sad, to see one 
 
 ^ 
 
 so young in such health and suffering as he did." 
 
 " Nonsense ; sufferings ! What do you know 
 of his sufferings ? What had he to suffer from ? 
 It seems to me that you have more sympathy for 
 other people's imaginary ailments than you have 
 for my real ones. I am sure I do not know what 
 will become of me if I do not get better soon ; I 
 shall be driven to send for that man Lefevre ; and 
 I am sure if I do, he will kill me." 
 
 " Then I am sure, if I were you, I would not 
 let him near me," said Dacia smiling. " But, 
 mamma, you are looking very well ; you seem to 
 me now better than you have been for some 
 months." 
 
 " That shows how little you notice me, Dacia ; 
 but it is only what I have met with through life 
 indifference to all I feel, and no sympathy for 
 all I suffer. But it will end some day ; there is 
 another and a better world, and there I shall be 
 released from all ills, bodily and mental." 
 
 Such conversations were of daily occurrence 
 between Mrs. Singleton and her daughter ; and it 
 seemed as if nothing would improve matters. Since
 
 A DUNKERQUE SOIREE. 159 
 
 they had been at Dunkerque, with the exception 
 of dining once with the Percivals, they had refused 
 every imitation. The Hervieus, the oldest and 
 best of the resident French families in the place, 
 declared they would ask them no more; but 
 General Hervieu, a charming old man, who for 
 forty years of his life had served his country faith- 
 fully and well, could not resist the charms of Miss 
 Singleton, so he was resolute in declaring that 
 whenever they had a soiree, the Singletons should 
 receive an invitation. Thus for this evening they 
 had again been asked, but, as usual, were not 
 present. 
 
 "Well, General, the next time those proud 
 English ladies are asked inside my house, the in- 
 vitation shall go in your name alone," said Madame 
 Hervieu to her husband. 
 
 " But I assure you," said Chattering Chorley, 
 who formed one of the company, " Miss Singleton 
 would have been delighted to have come ; it is her 
 mamma who is too delicate to go out, and so the 
 poor girl is obliged to remain at home." 
 
 "Are you talking of La Rose de Dun- 
 kerque?" asked young Hervieu, a grandson of
 
 160 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 the old people, and whose only sister resided with 
 them, their father and mother having both died of 
 a fever when they were children. 
 
 " To be sure we are," replied his grandfather ; 
 " I never saw such a lovely face as hers in all my 
 life, and I have seen a great many." 
 
 " How can you talk such nonsense, grand- 
 papa !" exclaimed L6 onie Hervieu ; " I can un- 
 derstand Hippolyte talking such stuff, but not 
 you." 
 
 "Don't you know, my pretty Leonie, that 
 there is no fool like an old one ? And I don't agree 
 with you about her being proud ; she may look so, 
 but she is not so, and that adds to her beauty." 
 
 "By Jove! she can be haughty enough if it 
 suits her," put in big Mr. Way. He had a vivid 
 recollection of her manner to him a few days back. 
 
 " Miss Singleton hates Mr. Way," said a very- 
 deaf old lady in a loud tone of voice, but believ- 
 ing herself to be speaking in a whisper to her 
 neighbour. 
 
 There was an awkward silence for a minute, 
 Mr. Way not having the savoir faire necessary to 
 laugh off such an unpleasant remark; but Mr.
 
 A DUNKERQUE SOIKEE. 161 
 
 Butler broke it at last by asking Miss Chorley if 
 she had obtained all the signatures to the petition. 
 
 " Every one that lives in the town whose name 
 is worth having has signed," replied Miss Chorley; 
 fl I will bring it round to you to-morrow morning, 
 for it will be a good thing to have it sent off as 
 soon as possible. I am sure we have been long 
 enough without a consul." 
 
 A tray was now brought in by a neatly-dressed 
 woman servant, with glasses, a large bottle of water, 
 three or four bottles of various sirups, some sugar, 
 and a large prettily-ornamented cake. It looked 
 like a round very thick sandwich, sugared over, 
 and bits of currant-jelly in various spots to make 
 it pleasant to the eye as well as the taste. Though 
 the cheer was not inebriating, it certainly tended 
 to dissipate the awkwardness that every one felt 
 through the deaf old lady's remark, and to in- 
 crease the hilarity of the company ; they grew more 
 pleased with themselves, and consequently with 
 each other. 
 
 Miss Chorley took the opportunity of venturing 
 to utter the suggestion made by Dacia Singleton, 
 that the long-talked-of ball should take place, not- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 BACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 withstanding there being no consul to do honour 
 to ; and that when the great man arrived another 
 should be given in celebration of the event. 
 
 The young portion of the community were 
 entirely in favour of the move, but it was but 
 feebly seconded by the elders ; however, as Gene- 
 ral Hervieu, conjointly with Mr. Butler, were all- 
 powerful in any matters connected with the town, 
 and as both these old gentlemen were strong par- 
 tisans of the Rose of Dunkerque, it seemed very 
 probable she would have her wish gratified. 
 
 "I think we want something to brush us up 
 a bit," said a fat, round-faced, middle-aged man, 
 with a piece of red ribbon in his button-hole, who 
 still considered himself one of the eligibles of the 
 place, and held a situation in the Custom-house. 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur Ren6, you think no such tiling, 
 as far as yourself is concerned," said Le"onie Her- 
 vieu. "How can any one want brushing up, if 
 they go to Paris twice every year !" 
 
 " Mademoiselle me flatte" said Monsieur Rene", 
 bowing low before her. 
 
 He was a great admirer of Leonie's, but she 
 usually snubbed him. There was some one else
 
 A DUNKERQUE SOIREE. 163 
 
 whose admiration Mademoiselle Hervieu preferred, 
 a certain Lieutenant Dupouy ; but then the Lieu- 
 tenant was not present. Besides which, she began 
 to think all were fish that came to her net now ; so 
 many had deserted her for the English beauty, 
 that the French belle felt sadly aggrieved, and 
 disliked Dacia Singleton accordingly. 
 
 There was not a man in Dunkerque who had 
 not seen Miss Singleton, though very few had 
 spoken to her, and every one exclaimed at her 
 beauty, and spoke of her in enthusiastic terms. 
 Those who did not know her were envious of those 
 who did, and to gain a passing bow was to many 
 sufficient to make them feel in good humour for 
 the rest of the day. 
 
 What are but trifling occurrences and of no 
 moment in great towns, form important events in 
 little ones ; consequently the Singletons' arrival 
 as intended residents created a stir amongst the 
 inhabitants that they had not yet entirely reco- 
 vered from ; indeed it seemed occasionally to re- 
 vive instead of dying away. Miss Singleton's 
 English mode of dress, so neat, so simple, and yet 
 so pretty, became quite the fashion amongst all
 
 164 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 the young French ladies ; though whilst they tried 
 to imitate her, they never let the opportunity pass 
 of saying something ill-natured and spiteful. So 
 it was that, when Miss Chorley raised the ball- 
 question, it was too good an occasion to let some 
 shafts fly that certainly would wound, if wishes 
 were facts. 
 
 The Merivales, the Thomases, and half-a-dozeu 
 others declared Mrs. Singleton to be unbearable 
 with her fancies and whims, and Miss Singleton 
 equally objectionable from her pride and conceit. 
 However true the accusations against the mother 
 might be, certainly those against her daughter 
 were equally false, and loud protestations from the 
 male portion of the company one great voice 
 except ed proclaimed them so. 
 
 "I think it will show the greatest facetious- 
 ness," said Mrs. Thomas, "if we consent to a ball 
 taking place just to please those people who think 
 themselves too grand to come amongst us. If 
 they can go to balls, they can attend our soirees" 
 
 Mrs. Thomas was the daughter of a rich 
 brewer, but the wife of a poor man ; and having 
 a large family to educate, they migrated to Dun-
 
 A DUFKERQUE SOIREE. 165 
 
 kerque till their children were old enough to have 
 done with schooling. She was a sour-faced-look- 
 ing woman, tall and large -boned, and had a 
 strange love of using words that were long and 
 hard like herself, with the additional peculiarity 
 of misapplying them. She was perfectly ignorant 
 of that part of the business ; but her eldest daugh- 
 ter, knowing her failing, and perfectly aware, 
 of what the word should be, invariably sat by 
 her to prompt her to the right one. But she no- 
 more heeded her than a train in motion would 
 heed a goose flapping its wings on the road- 
 side. 
 
 " Obsequiousness, mamma, obsequiousness !" 
 whispered Miss Elizabeth Thomas, loud enough 
 for several of the English ears to be attracted by 
 the mistake, which by one or two at all events 
 might have passed unnoticed; as the correction 
 was by Mrs. Thomas. 
 
 "It will be a veiy bad president for the fu- 
 ture," continued that lady, in order to show how 
 little she heeded Miss Thomas. 
 
 "Precedent, mamma, precedent!" again put 
 in the young lady.
 
 166 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 And so they talked on, some against, but the 
 majority for, the ball, till of course the majority 
 was victorious ; and by the tune they began mak- 
 ing a move to disperse, it was unanimously re- 
 solved one should be given early in the ensuing 
 month, consul or no consul. Then the ladies 
 put on their woollen head-coverings, their large 
 thick shawls and waterproof overshoes, and were 
 ready to walk home with their respective belong- 
 ings. 
 
 Hippolyte Hervieu and Jean Beauregard lived 
 together in lodgings in the Rue du Midi. To get 
 there the two young men passed down the Rue 
 de 1'Eglise, which was totally unnecessary indeed 
 they were obliged to digress in order to do so; 
 and when in front of the Singletons' house, they 
 agreed on giving the " Rose" an impromptu sere- 
 nade. They stood there singing with all the 
 strength of their lungs what they ^ thought very 
 charming, but what Miss Singleton, who was sleep- 
 ing calmly and soundly, was totally unconscious of; 
 besides, had she been awake, it is doubtful if she 
 would have heard any thing, being at the back 
 of the house, and with thick walls, to boot, between
 
 A DUNKEKQUE SOIKEE. 167 
 
 her and the street. In their folly they lingered 
 some time hoping to see her, but to no purpose; 
 so they went on their way, consoling themselves 
 with cigars till they reached their own house.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 MARKET-DAY. 
 
 A FEW days after the despatch of the petition 
 requesting the appointment of Mr. Ivor Camp- 
 bell to the consulship at Dunkerque, Mrs. Single- 
 ton received a long letter from her daughter, Mr?. 
 Moncrieffe. It will be best to transcribe it, as it 
 is tolerably concisely written, and it would be dif- 
 ficult to say which portion one could omit. 
 
 " Hertford-street, Mayfair, 
 November 24th, 
 
 " DEAREST MAMMA, Only think how strange ! 
 I know your new Consul that is to be at Dun- 
 kerque. Mr. Marsden brought him here the 
 other day, just as we had returned from Brigh- 
 ton, where we have been staying for a fortnight, 
 to be near the Langens, whose house is still un- 
 finished, and so are still there; but James would 
 not stand Brighton any longer, and so we came
 
 MARKET-DAY. 169 
 
 back; though I daresay I shall go down again, 
 though James says I sha'n't. But I don't much 
 care either way. If I want to go, of course I 
 shall go; and if I don't, why I shall stay here. 
 But to return to your Consul : he is a great friend 
 of Henry Marsden's, who said, as he was appointed 
 to Dunkerque, he thought I should like to know 
 him, which of course I did ; and we asked them 
 both to dinner, and they came the other night. 
 
 " "Well, he is very good-looking, tall, slight, with 
 very black hair, and a great deal of it ; dark-blue 
 eyes, though they look light for his complexion ; 
 the most beautiful mouth and teeth ; a large nose ; 
 whiskers, of course; quite young, for a man at 
 least. I don't think he can be more than eight- 
 and-twenty, and he sings beautifully ; but he has 
 the Grossest look possible. I am sure he is bad- 
 tempered or unhappy ; and you know one makes 
 you the other, so I suppose he is both. I felt 
 rather afraid of him, and was not sorry when 
 they went, especially as he wouldn't sing. He 
 said he had given it up these two years. I don't 
 see the good of his having a voice, if he won't 
 make use of it.
 
 170 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " I told him, of course, of you and Dacia being 
 at Dunkerque; but then Mr. Marsden had told 
 him' all about that before. I am quite sure 
 Henry Marsden is in love with Dacia; but you 
 need not tell her so ; it will only make her con- 
 ceited, and he will never be able to marry her, 
 for he is sure to die in the spring, if even he 
 lives through the winter; at least, Mr. Reeves 
 says so, and I am sure he must be right. Besides, 
 he ought to have left England long ago. 
 
 " If you want any needles or pins, or any thing 
 of that sort, let me know by return of post, be- 
 cause the Consul offered to take them over for 
 me. He didn't say needles and pins of course, 
 but that if I had any little parcel, he would take 
 charge of it. I don't want to prejudice you 
 against him, but I can't help thinking he must 
 be dreadfully wanting in good taste. Just fancy ; 
 he has been several years at Genoa, and he has 
 been trying and trying for two years to get some 
 other town ; and then he accepts the first he has 
 had the chance of, which is Dunkerque. "Why, 
 Genoa was much superior in every way! The 
 salary was much more than what he will have
 
 MAKKET-DAY. 171 
 
 now; though perhaps, as he has money of his 
 own, he won't so much care for that. Then he 
 had a magnificent house there; loads and loads 
 of parties. And then the scenery and works of 
 art that surrounded him! I can't understand it. 
 He must be a misanthrope. However, you will 
 soon be able to judge for yourselves. I am sorry 
 for you, because a pleasant gay consul would have 
 been so very nice. 
 
 " I have only seen Mum once since we came 
 back to town. She is quite well. I asked her 
 when she was going over to see you. She said 
 she was afraid not just yet. You know Mum 
 always has so much to do, though I am sure I 
 don't know what she does, unless it is for other 
 people ; it is never any thing for herself. 
 
 "How are you? I hope you have not been 
 obliged to send for the French doctor yet. Do 
 you still dislike the place as much as ever? Is 
 Dacia reconciled to it ? I should think it very 
 amusing to be where one felt one was the top 
 person in the place. James says he knows one 
 of Mrs. Thomas's sisters. She married a man 
 in the Guards, who expected to get a fortune with
 
 172 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 her, but found out, when too late, she would get 
 nothing till after her father's death. Good-bye, 
 dearest mamma. Love to Dacia. 
 
 " Your affectionate daughter, 
 
 " C. MOXCRIEFFE." 
 
 " How very thoughtless Cis is !" said Mrs. 
 Singleton, when she had finished the letter and 
 handed it to Dacia, notwithstanding the caution 
 in it about not telling her of Mr. Marsden's ad- 
 miration. " She never gives the consul's name ; 
 but I suppose it is this Mr. Ivor Campbell." 
 
 Dacia made no reply ; for she was reading the 
 letter reading it with an interest she rarely felt 
 for her sister's productions. Her heart beat and 
 her eyes brightened as they fell on the first por- 
 tion of her remark about Henry Marsden; but a 
 sinking, sickening feeling followed as she read the 
 words that spoke of his death so speedily and so 
 surely. Dacia pondered some moments over those 
 few lines before she went on with the remainder 
 of the letter. And yet she was not in love with 
 Marsden, nor was it gratified vanity that called 
 forth her feelings. She questioned herself closely
 
 MARKET-DAY. 173 
 
 then and after, and she was convinced, whatever 
 she felt, it was not love. She had never yet 
 known what that was; but instinct told her this 
 was not it. She could have heard without a pang 
 that he was attached to any one else. She even 
 thought such a knowledge would give her plea- 
 sure ; yet she was fully aware of a strange interest 
 in him. 
 
 " I suppose it is the Dunkerquois protege," 
 remarked Miss Singleton, as she returned the 
 letter to her mother. " It is strange he should 
 be a friend of Mr. Marsden's." 
 
 "I see nothing strange in it; but I suppose 
 you will draw some romantic deductions from the 
 fact, especially after what Cis says of the poor 
 dying man. I forgot that when I gave you the 
 letter to read." 
 
 " Pray, mamma, do not talk about my being 
 romantic," said Dacia, looking vexed. " You 
 know I am nothing of the kind, and I believe you 
 only say so to annoy me." 
 
 " I am used to your impertinence, Dacia," 
 said Mrs. Singleton, gathering a large plaid shawl 
 around her and moving towards the door, "or I
 
 174 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 might feel surprised at your speaking to me in 
 that tone. I hope if ever you have children of 
 your own, you will teach them what their duty 
 is towards their mother, and that they may learn 
 what respect is." And she closed the drawing- 
 room door immediately after, giving Dacia no 
 opportunity of replying, had she been so dis- 
 posed. 
 
 " So, after all, the consul will be here for the 
 ball," thought Miss Singleton, dismissing from her 
 mind her mother's words as soon as they had been 
 uttered. " I thought to have achieved a great 
 triumph over those Merivales and Hervieus. and 
 Thomases ; but now they will crow over me that 
 I have not succeeded in having a ball independ- 
 ently of the consul, who seems, by the way, to be 
 any thing but an amiable or pleasant person, from 
 Cecily's description. But I don't think Cis knows 
 how to judge people's characters, whatever she 
 may do their faces." And then she fell into a 
 long train of thought, arising from the fact that 
 the new consul was a friend of Mr. Marsden's, 
 and wondering whether he would ever come over 
 to Dunkerque in consequence.
 
 MARKET-DAY. 175 
 
 It was still quite early, and Dacia was still 
 alone when Mrs. Percival came in. 
 
 "Is your mamma not well, Dacia, that she 
 is invisible this morning?" she said, having sat a 
 few minutes, and Mrs. Singleton not appearing. 
 
 " As well as usual. She only left the room a 
 little while ago. We have had a letter from my 
 sister this morning, and mamma is never quite 
 so contented after receiving letters from Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " No bad news, though, I hope ?" 
 
 " None ; it contains chiefly an account, or 
 rather description, of the new consul." 
 
 " What ! our consul the one that is to come 
 here ! Is one appointed ?" 
 
 Miss Singleton could not yet understand the 
 immense interest and curiosity such a circum- 
 stance gave rise to, as any one hearing from or 
 seeing a person who was to fill so important a 
 position as the English consul held amongst the 
 English residents. But then she had not lived 
 in Dunkerque all her life, or in any other pro- 
 vincial town, or she might have comprehended 
 it better. She smiled at Mrs. Percival's eagerly-
 
 176 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 spoken questions as she replied, "Yes, tlie one 
 that is coming here." 
 
 " Is it, then, Mr. Ivor Campbell ?" 
 
 "I suppose so; but Cecily does not give his 
 name." 
 
 " When is he to arrive ?" 
 
 tl She says soon ; but she did not mention day 
 or date." 
 
 "I wonder what Chattering Chorley would 
 give to know this! Don't you tell any one, 
 Dacia. Chorley can't bear that any one should 
 hear any news before she does. What fun it 
 will be to tease her !" 
 
 "I would rather tease the Merivales and 
 Thomases," replied Dacia, who had a special dis- 
 like to these two families. (( They are such 
 disagreeable people, I wish they would leave 
 Dunkerque." 
 
 " There is no chance of that ; they are too 
 poor ; but, after all, you don't see much of them. 
 You are as bad as George ; he cannot bear them ; 
 but then he hates every one here, excepting you 
 and your mother ; and that is because I knew Mrs. 
 Singleton years ago; so he does not class you
 
 MARKET-DAY. 177 
 
 with the Dunkerque English ; and I know every- 
 one dislikes him, and no wonder, for he is down- 
 right rude to them all. But I came to ask you if 
 you will come with me to Lacroix's, and help me 
 to choose a bonnet ?" 
 
 " Yes, with pleasure, if mamma does not want 
 me." 
 
 " Perhaps she would like to go with us ?" 
 "I will ask her," said Dacia, leaving the 
 room to inquire, and hoping at the same time she 
 would not. She thought the old saying very true, 
 that two are company, three are none. But Mrs. 
 Singleton did like to go; and so they all went 
 out together. 
 
 It was market-day, and the streets were very 
 full of the country people, who came from Bergues^ 
 Rosendale, and the neighbouring villages, to lay in 
 their week's provender. But, besides these, every' 
 lady in Dunkerque marketed for her own house- 
 hold, with the exception of Mrs. Singleton, who 
 thought she would degrade herself to the level of 
 a cook were she to do such a thing ; but, setting 
 her own notions on the matter aside, she was as 
 little capable of any thing of the sort as she would 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 have been to have made herself a dress, never 
 having been known to use a needle and thread 
 from the day she had ceased to be in her gover- 
 ness's leading-strings. 
 
 The Rue de 1'Eglise, being the principal street 
 from that side of the town leading into the Place, 
 was more crowded than any other part, though the 
 whole place seemed tolerably alive. Mrs. Percival 
 and Mrs. Singleton walked in front, Dacia follow- 
 ing. It was amusing to see Mrs. Singleton sweep 
 by the people ; her tall aristocratic look, however, 
 was barely appreciated, that is, it created very 
 little of the deference that it would have done 
 amongst the same class of people in England. 
 The Frenchwomen turned their heads to look at 
 the tall lady in black ; but in so doing their eyes 
 fell on Dacia, who, though quite as graceful and 
 high-bred looking, had a face that attracted kindly 
 glances and undisguised admiration, when her 
 mother but received looks that told more of as- 
 tonishment, bordering sometimes on amusement, 
 and wound up by a shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 They had not gone very far when Mr. Percival 
 joined them ; and, as was his wont, he instantly
 
 MAKKET-DAY. 179 
 
 appropriated Miss Singleton. She was nothing 
 loth ; she liked him extremely : about the only 
 man in Dunkerque she did like. 
 
 "Take my arm, Miss Singleton, and let me 
 pilot you through this mob of creatures calling 
 themselves women. Can you conceive their be- 
 longing to the same sex you do? Just look at 
 their huge coarse bodies, and listen to their fright- 
 ful hooting voices. It would drive me wild, if I 
 were a woman, to see such animals as these called 
 the same as myself. I think there must have been 
 an express mould made for the French female 
 race ; for, 'pon my life, the upper classes are little 
 better than the lower : their outward appearance 
 is better certainly, but their habits are disgusting. 
 I saw that girl Leonie Hervieu the other day 
 she's got a cold in her head, you know, Miss 
 Singleton well, I saw her take her handkerchief 
 out of her pocket, spread it open before her, and 
 well, I will spare you the rest," he continued, as 
 Dacia made a sign of entreaty that he would 
 cease. " But won't you take my arm "?" 
 
 " And face all the good people of Dunkerque, 
 headed by Mr. Way, who hates me, and Miss
 
 180 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 Chorley who could not resist the gossip de- 
 claring I was guilty of the utmost impropriety. 
 I have lived long enough here to know that it is 
 against all the social rules of Dunkerque for a 
 lady and gentleman to walk about arm-in-arm." 
 
 "What, with your mother and my wife be- 
 fore us?" 
 
 "In this crowd people might choose to be 
 blind, and declare we were alone," replied Miss 
 Singleton, smiling. 
 
 " Well, Miss Singleton, I gave you credit for 
 being above such contemptible nonsense." 
 
 "No, I am not," she replied honestly. "I 
 know the people here don't like me particularly 
 as it is, so I need not do that which would give 
 them an opportunity of justly saying ill-natured 
 things. One must give in to social rules." 
 
 "Very well, then, you will get crushed to 
 pieces amongst all these baskets and barrels and 
 things. Where in the world are they going to ? 
 surely not into the market ?" 
 
 "It looks very much as if they were, for we 
 are tolerably near it, and they seem to be going 
 through it. We are bound for Lacroix's."
 
 MARKET-DAY. 181 
 
 " You may as well be bound for the Antipodes, 
 and expect to reach it to-night, as to get to 
 Lacroix's before dinner, if you attempt the market. 
 It is just like women, choosing a day like this to go 
 in that direction. Look there, there's old Mrs. 
 Merivale got hold of your mother already, and 
 I see Mrs. Thomas and her dictionary daughter 
 coming up towards you." 
 
 "I am sure I don't know what people would 
 do without that dictionary daughter, as you call 
 her. I see some one, however, not coming towards 
 us, but that I mean to go towards, and say bon 
 jour to. Will you come just across here with me," 
 she said, " that I may speak to the Butlers ?" 
 
 Amidst the crowded mass that covered the 
 whole of the market-place there was Mr. Butler, 
 with his blind wife on his arm, threading his way 
 and guiding her steps with such care and watch- 
 fulness that no harm could come to her. It was 
 one of the poor old lady's great amusements, going 
 to market. She would pass her hand over fruit, 
 vegetables, poultry, or game, and give her opinion 
 concerning them ; and generally it was a correct 
 one. Her sense of touch was wonderfully fine.
 
 182 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 It was only of late years she had become blind ; 
 it came very gradually ; and when at last her 
 doom was sealed, and she was told that never more 
 would she see aught on earth, she met the crushing 
 truth with a resignation that was almost incre- 
 dible. 
 
 She was now past seventy, and Mr. Butler ten 
 years her senior. For long years had they resided 
 in Dunkerque; and though they had sons \vlio 
 were married and settled in England, and en- 
 treated them to come away and live amongst them 
 in their native land, they both clung to the soil 
 they had grown old on, and feared to transplant 
 themselves to another, as, like old trees, they might 
 wither and die in the attempt. Besides, their 
 only daughter was near to them here, and her 
 young family was almost as dear to the blind 
 grandmother as if they had been her own. 
 
 Another reason in favour of their remaining in 
 Dunkerque, there was not an inch of ground in 
 their house that Mrs. Butler was not perfectly 
 familiar with ; she could feel her way to any spot, 
 and lay her hand on any article she required. It 
 would have been cruel to have removed her to
 
 MAKKET-DAY. 183 
 
 a strange unknown home, where, from her terrible 
 affliction, she must have lost all feeling of comfort 
 and security. There was not a more gentle, loving 
 woman in the world than old Mrs. Butler. The 
 most spiteful had a kindly word for her ; the most 
 envious were liberal in their praises of her. 
 
 To Dacia Singleton she was a perfect wonder. 
 She always said that, were she so afflicted, she 
 should hate the whole world that enjoyed the 
 blessing she was shut out from. 
 
 When Mrs. Butler ever wished to be more 
 intimately acquainted with one person than an- 
 other, she used to ask them to let her feel their 
 faces ; and then she said she could picture them to 
 herself, and felt as if she understood their charac- 
 ter better. 
 
 Dacia had once or twice been to see Mrs. But- 
 ler before she made her this request. She had 
 heard so much praise of Dacia's beauty, that, in- 
 stead of it exciting her curiosity, she seemed to be 
 indifferent to it ; but one or two thoughtful actions 
 had won over the old lady's heart, and then it was 
 that she asked to be allowed to pass her hand over 
 her face. She did so slowly and softly, repeating
 
 184 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 the movement over each feature more than once, 
 and asking her questions as to the colour of her 
 hair and eyes. She seemed to have some difficulty 
 in realising the colour of the former : she had pic- 
 tured it to herself as being dark, and she could not 
 divest herself of the idea. She often alluded to it ; 
 and as Dacia now came up and took her hand, 
 telling her who she was, Mr. Butler said : 
 
 " Our English lily, my dear." 
 
 " Ah," she said, " the Dunkerque rose sounds 
 to me the most natural. I believe it was that 
 name they gave you that makes me still at times 
 think of you with black hair." 
 
 " Why, my stupid old dear, it is like burnished 
 gold." 
 
 " And waves. I felt the broad large waves 
 that nature only can produce, not those nasty hard 
 stiff ridges that the people make with hot irons. 
 Mr. Butler, these are very fine peaches." 
 
 " Then, my dear, we will have some." 
 
 And forthwith Mr. Butler began to squabble 
 as far as words went w r ith the fruit-woman, who 
 commenced by asking five sous apiece for them, 
 but ended in thankfully taking two.
 
 MARKET-DAY. 185 
 
 Dacia stood by, laughing. It amused her im- 
 mensely to hear the incessant fighting and quar- 
 relling that went on between every purchaser and 
 vendor, no matter what the article in question was 
 that was to be sold. 
 
 " Now, Miss Singleton, we shall draw down 
 that dreadful scandal you so dread if you stay 
 much longer ; for we shall quite lose sight of Mrs. 
 Singleton and my wife." 
 
 " What, are you with her, George ?" said Mrs. 
 Butler. " I was going to ask where your mamma 
 was, Miss Singleton." 
 
 " Looming in the distance," laughingly replied 
 Dacia ; " and I suppose I must say good-bye to 
 you. We have escaped the Thomases at all 
 events," she continued, as they left the Butlers 
 and were threading their way across the market- 
 place. 
 
 " Don't be too sure. You are not out of the 
 wood yet, Miss Singleton. I think at this moment 
 she is within arm's-length behind, meditating a 
 descent." 
 
 " Then I won't be descended on," said Dacia ; 
 " I dislike her too much."
 
 186 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Miss Singleton, Miss Singleton, stop a mo- 
 ment !" cried the Thomas voice behind her. 
 
 There was no help for it : she must stop, unless 
 she were to be actually ill-bred. So she turned 
 round. 
 
 " I thought so," said George Percival. 
 
 " Do you know all Dunkerque is talking of the 
 masquerade you had the other night ?" 
 
 " Serenade, mamma, serenade." 
 
 Dacia looked up in helpless bewilderment. 
 Masquerade or serenade both were equally un- 
 intelligible to her. 
 
 Mr. Percival smiled. He had heard of Hervieu's 
 and Beauregard's folly, as he had also heard that 
 the two young men had ended by having a rather 
 warm discussion about the fair English girl ; but 
 he was not the man to tell her of such nonsense. 
 He thought her above being flattered by so absurd 
 a matter ; but that, on the contrary, she would feel 
 annoyed at their making her the object of common 
 talk by what they had done. 
 
 " Miss Singleton is evidently ignorant of what 
 all Dunkerque has been talking about, Mrs. Tho- 
 mas ; and you might as well have left her so," said
 
 MARKET-DAY. 187 
 
 George Percival with a sneer, which he could not 
 help accompanying almost all he said when talk- 
 ing to the people of the place ; and then, turning 
 to Miss Singleton, who was still looking with in- 
 quiring eyes, said : 
 
 " Two young French fools, thinking to please 
 you, I suppose, or at any rate themselves, stood 
 outside your house a few nights ago making a 
 noise which disturbed the whole neighbourhood, 
 excepting, apparently, yourself, for whom the ques- 
 tionable honour was especially intended." 
 
 " Indeed ! Whoever they were, I am sorry 
 they gave themselves the trouble," replied Miss 
 Singleton, in somewhat the same sort of contemp- 
 tuous manner Mr. Percival had spoken in. 
 
 "Well, I think you are very ungrateful, Miss 
 Singleton," remarked Mrs. Thomas. " I think it 
 quite delirious to have people make so much of 
 one." 
 
 " Delicious, mamma, delicious." 
 
 " I tell you it would make me delirious," re- 
 plied Mrs. Thomas in a sharp tone to her daugh- 
 ter's correction a flash of light crossing her mind 
 that the word could be turned to account as she
 
 188 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 had pronounced it ; and whenever that occurred, 
 she never let the chance escape of putting herself 
 in the right. 
 
 11 1 do not care for such things," said Miss 
 Singleton haughtily. " Good-morning, Mrs. Tho- 
 mas;" and with a distant bow to mother and 
 daughter, she continued her way through the maze 
 of people and things by which they were sur- 
 rounded ; Mr. Percival following, and thinking 
 what a pity it was that a girl like her should be 
 doomed to live at Dunkerque : he hated the place 
 and people so thoroughly. 
 
 " Then why is it you do not leave it?"' asked 
 Dacia, as he had just given expression to some 
 such sentiment. 
 
 "Where can I go? I can't live in England 
 on my income, and I can't get any thing to do. I 
 am too old for any profession, and too old to com- 
 mence a life that would entail my sitting at a desk 
 for six or seven hours a day. No, there's nothing 
 for it, I suppose, but patience." 
 
 u But time will only increase the evil, and not 
 diminish it." 
 
 " No, I hope not. I have a stray aunt in
 
 MARKET-DAY. 189 
 
 Ireland, that I believe will leave me something 
 when she dies ; but old women never die. I don't 
 know how it is, but if any thing is to be got by 
 them, or if they are receiving pensions, they seem 
 to live on and on, and nothing kills them. Why, 
 she has been thrown out of a carriage, upset in a 
 boat, and burnt out of her house, all within these 
 last three years ; and she is past eighty, but 
 nothing hurts her. I say with all my heart, 
 Heaven preserve her! but then let it be in heaven. 
 Here we are at Lacroix's at last."
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 
 
 A BRIGHT genial sun shone over the old town 
 of Duiikerque, lending temporary warmth to the 
 otherwise cold clear air that blew up from the sea 
 on Sunday the 8th of December. It was a day 
 that made bare existence seem a boon, and health 
 to enjoy it a double blessing. 
 
 The whole place was in a stir, as is invariably 
 the case in most continental towns on a Sabbath 
 day, more especially if Roman Catholic. The 
 streets were thronged with gay dresses and happy 
 faces. From the early hour of six, when some 
 attend the first mass, up to ten o'clock at night, 
 when a few couples may still be seen tarrying in 
 their walk, speaking last words in a lingering 
 manner, nothing could exceed the gay appearance 
 of the place. 
 
 Some of the French provincial towns have on
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 191 
 
 this day even a brighter look than its beautiful 
 capital; for whatever the Parisian's toilette may 
 be in the week-days, on the Sunday they are 
 completely cut out by the Dunkerquois, whose 
 dress, on all fete-days indeed, is something quite 
 extraordinary, as can be borne witness to by any 
 one the least acquainted with Jean Bart's na- 
 tive town. There is no lack of taste either. You 
 may with perfect safety doubly so if you are an 
 Englishwoman put yourself in the hands of a 
 Dunkerque milliner; and provided you do not 
 introduce any of your own notions, or suggest 
 what you may think improvements, you will be 
 perfectly satisfied with the result. 
 
 There is something attractive in dress, and 
 the love for it is very catching, People are told, 
 when they are at Rome they must do as they do 
 in Rome. There's not much necessity for the 
 injunction. The truth is, customs and habits, 
 when you are within their influence, are as in- 
 fectious as epidemics. You can't help yourself. 
 You pick up a habit, good or bad, as easily as 
 a poor acquaintance, and afterwards find both 
 equally difficult to free yourself from.
 
 192 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton had rapidly given way to the 
 love that very soon possessed her for dress ; and 
 though, being in mourning, there was no great 
 scope for the display of her own or her milliner's 
 taste, yet she managed to pass a good portion 
 of her day in arranging and rearranging her 
 toilette. To Maxwell it became a source of profit 
 as well as pleasure, for she gleaned lots of odds 
 and ends that would otherwise have been care- 
 -fully gathered into the wardrobe barn. Miss Sin- 
 gleton was totally exempt from the pandemic ; it 
 did not affect her in the slightest degree. She 
 still retained her simple taste, dressing always 
 with the greatest care and never-failing neatness. 
 One would imagine she never gave the matter a 
 thought; yet perhaps it required some, if not 
 quite as much as more elaborate dress. How- 
 ever that may be, she formed a great contrast to 
 all around her. 
 
 On Sundays the English did their best to 
 make a sensation appearance in the room where 
 service was performed, each individual walking to 
 church with the questionable Christian-like desire 
 of outvieing their neighbours, and walking home
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 193 
 
 again full of remarks tinged with spite and jea- 
 lousy, which arose through finding or fancying 
 they were not, on that morning, the best-dressed 
 in the congregation. If an excuse could possibly 
 be admissible for them, there certainly was one in 
 the fact that Mr. Way was the clergyman who 
 officiated. 
 
 Who could pray whilst that man shouted out 
 the prayers in a rapid rollicking manner, his eyes 
 wandering about the whole time in search of any 
 new faces whose francs he would pocket at the 
 conclusion of the service ? Who could listen with 
 the slightest chance of hearing any thing to edify 
 them when he read out, as rapidly as his lips 
 could give the words utterance, a wild rambling 
 sermon, the only comprehensible part being that 
 all were wicked alike? He might have added, 
 without swerving from the . truth, that he in- 
 cluded himself in the general category. Perhaps 
 he thought this unnecessary ; or he may not have 
 held that opinion, for he never made use of the 
 pronoun we, but always you. 
 
 The 8th of December was just the right sort 
 of day for pretty dresses and gay toilettes. It was 
 
 VOL. i.
 
 194 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 such a bright day, that one felt as if it were neces- 
 sary to follow nature, and put on bright attire 
 also. Mrs. Singleton did not often go to church ; 
 hitherto she had found it too warm, or else too 
 cold. She and her daughter had two seats allotted 
 to them near the door, which also was near the 
 stove. They were not comfortable ; but they were 
 the best to be had unoccupied. However, to-day 
 she resolved to go : not only the weather tempted 
 her, but also the fact though of course she did 
 not admit this of her having a new bonnet, 
 which sparkled in the sun from the quantity of 
 black bugles studded over it. Her dress, a rich 
 black silk trimmed with crape and bugles, matched 
 it ; she perfectly glittered as she went along. In 
 her hand she held her prayer-book, fan, and smell- 
 ing-bottle. 
 
 "Eeally, Dacia," she said, as they approached 
 the house that did duty for a church, " you look 
 so dowdy, I am ashamed of you. Maxwell dresses 
 better than you do." 
 
 " I daresay ; but I cannot help it. I think the 
 way people dress here quite ridiculous. What do 
 they dress for ?"
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 195 
 
 " To be pleasing to look at, which I am sure 
 you are not. You always seem as if you were a 
 Sister of Charity, or something not much better." 
 
 "I wish I were any thing half so useful. 
 Look at those people coming along; do you 
 really like such gorgeous dresses, mamma?" 
 
 " It is Mrs. Merivale and Miss Chorley : of 
 course I do. Why, Dacia, what would Miss 
 Chorley look like if she were not to dress as 
 she does f 
 
 " A gray parrot instead of one of all colours ; 
 and much better, I think." 
 
 "You really talk such nonsense. I shah 1 be 
 quite glad when you are out of mourning, that 
 you may look a little more like other people." 
 
 They were at the door now ; and so, except a 
 few words to, or rather from, Chattering Chorley, 
 who smiled more on Sunday than any other day 
 in the week, they passed on to the narrow stair- 
 case which led up to a tolerably good-sized room, 
 capable of holding from a hundred to a hundred 
 and fifty people. 
 
 The room was nearly full ; quite so at the up- 
 per end. In a few minutes in burst the colossal
 
 196 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 parson, coming down upon his congregation like 
 a mountainous wave. He bent his head for a 
 moment or two in semblance of prayer. Heaven 
 forbid one should misjudge a fellow-creature ; but 
 it seemed to those who watched him that he ap- 
 peared as little unfit for the duty before him on 
 raising his head, as he did on his entrance. 
 
 Li the midst of reading the first Lesson, which 
 he was rattling through in an easy off-hand man- 
 ner much as one would read an article in the 
 Times the door opened, and a gentleman walked 
 in, and then stood still for a moment or two, till 
 the man who, without acting as pew-opener, there 
 being no pews to open, guided people to vacant 
 chairs, showed him one which happened to be 
 next to Miss Singleton. He was a tall, high- 
 bred-looking man; young, but with a firmness 
 of expression and serious look that does not often 
 accompany youth. He took the seat given to 
 to him, and seemed to listen in pure amazement 
 to Mr. Way's manner of reading, and afterwards 
 with a degree of disgust on his countenance when 
 he was delivering his sermon. 
 
 Every one present who saw the stranger enter,
 
 SUNDAY MOKNING. 197 
 
 with the exception of old Mr. Butler, began to 
 puzzle their brains as to who he could be. When 
 the service was over, finding it impossible to get 
 out unless he pushed by the people, he remained 
 standing till Mr. Butler came up, when a look of 
 recognition, though a formal one, passed between 
 them, and they went out together. The moment 
 they were in the street, a large tall wiry-haired 
 dog crossed over from the opposite side, and hav- 
 ing thrust his long-pointed nose into the stranger's 
 hand, which seemed ready to receive the salute, 
 he followed him calmly and quietly, as if he was 
 fully aware that on the Sabbath day every thing 
 should be done peaceably and in order. He was 
 clearly a dog of the world, and gave in to social 
 laws. 
 
 " Dear me ; who can that be ?" said Mrs. Mer- 
 rivale, whose white crape bonnet, with feathers and 
 geraniums, had drawn forth Miss Chorley's genuine 
 admiration, unmixed with envy, for she was con- 
 scious of her own being in better taste, and so she 
 could afford to be generous ; not that that was rare 
 with the little woman kind words and actions 
 sprang forth in plenty from her.
 
 198 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Why, I shouldn't wonder if he belonged to 
 that yacht, or the yacht to him, that put in here 
 yesterday. I tried all I could to find out the 
 name of the owner; but they told me some un- 
 pronounceable Dutch name, which I couldn't 
 make head or tail of." 
 
 " I don't believe he's a Dutchman ; do you ? 
 He doesn't look like one a bit. He looks Eng- 
 lish, doesn't he ? And that dog is his, I suppose. 
 What a brute ! He ought to be muzzled." 
 
 "Well, I think it is pretty clear he is not 
 Dutch," said Mrs. Percival, who had just been 
 speaking to Mrs. Singleton, and now was listen- 
 ing with amusement to the various conjectures 
 which the advent of a stranger, especially if a 
 man and a gentleman, invariably gave rise to. 
 "He would hardly have attended the English 
 service had he been Dutch." 
 
 " Of course not," said Mrs. Thomas ; " but 
 Miss Chorley always has such prostitute ideas." 
 
 Miss Elizabeth Thomas was utterly at a loss 
 for a moment to understand her mother; but in 
 order to make up for the pause, short as it was, 
 that ensued, and which caused dismay to spread
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 199 
 
 over every face who had heard Mrs. Thomas, 
 when the dictionary daughter did come to the 
 conclusion as to what her mother meant, she ex- 
 claimed sharply and loudly, so that all standing 
 far and near heard, " Preposterous, mamma, pre- 
 posterous !" 
 
 Of course Chattering Chorley smiled and looked 
 pleasant, whatever feeling of annoyance worked 
 within. She was, however, quite appeased now, 
 and only declared she never said the man was 
 Dutch or Dane; but only offered a surmise that 
 he might be the owner of the yacht now lying in 
 the port. 
 
 In the mean while Mrs. Singleton and her 
 daughter had walked on towards home. They 
 rarely joined the gossiping groups that assembled 
 after morning church. Mrs. Singleton had not 
 been able to reconcile herself to any communion 
 of that sort, however much she wished to be aufait 
 with the news of the town. They had not been 
 in more than a few minutes, before Mr. Butler 
 called. Dacia was in her own room, and Mrs. 
 Singleton alone in the drawing-room. 
 
 " I have only come in for a moment," he said ;
 
 200 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 for he knew on Sundays the Singletons dined 
 early ; " but I thought I would just let you know 
 our new consul has arrived, and he is coming here 
 to call on you this afternoon." 
 
 "Mrs. Percival told us of his arrival as we 
 came out of church. I suppose that was he sitting 
 next to Dacia during service ?" 
 
 " I did not see him in church ; but as he asked 
 me who the two ladies were in mourning by his 
 side, I suppose it was. At all events, I told him 
 it must have been you, as I do not think, except- 
 ing yourselves, there is any one in the place in 
 mourning; and he replied directly that, whoever 
 it was, the young lady next to him was very beau- 
 tiful; to which I instantly agreed. It is rare to 
 see so lovely a face." 
 
 " Really," said Mrs. Singleton in a vexed tone, 
 " people talk such nonsense about Dacia, that if 
 she hears it all she will become more conceited 
 than ever. Will you kindly reach me my bottle ? 
 Thank you. I hope there will be no flirtation got 
 up between her and this consul. By the bye, what 
 is his name? Is it the Mr. Ivor Campbell every 
 one seemed so anxious to have here ?"
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 201 
 
 " No, no ; his name is Mostyn. I think that 
 Ivor Campbell must have been a myth. And 
 as to this man flirting, I don't think you need fear 
 any thing of the sort. If I can judge at all of 
 character, I should say he could not flirt if his 
 life depended on it." 
 
 "My dear Mr. Butler," said Mrs. Singleton 
 languidly, and inhaling the salts, " you surely do 
 not mean to tell me that the man walks who can- 
 not flirt, if he meets a girl that will flirt with 
 him?" 
 
 " Then Mr. Mostyn certainly won't with Miss 
 Singleton ; for I don't think she is capable of flirt- 
 ing." 
 
 " Ah, you don't know her. But never mind 
 that. What made Mr. Mostyn so late in church ? 
 It was a bad beginning." 
 
 "He fancied the service began at half-past 
 instead of eleven." 
 
 " O, Mr. Butler," said Dacia, coming in, look- 
 ing brilliantly beautiful; for the keen air had 
 brought a bright colour to her cheeks, " you are 
 talking of the new arrival. I am afraid I am 
 getting just as bad as all the rest of the people
 
 202 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 in Dunkerque. I feel horribly curious about our 
 dark dismal-looking consul, and almost as much 
 about his proud stately dog, that walked so 
 grandly after him." 
 
 " Well, my dear young lady, as far as a per- 
 sonal interview can gratify your curiosity, you 
 will have it. He is coming to call on you pre- 
 sently." 
 
 " And the dog ? If he takes him to church, 
 he may surely bring him to pay visits." 
 
 " Really, Dacia, I am quite ashamed of you ; 
 and it is nothing more than that you want to 
 hear about that poor wretched-looking man, Mr. 
 Marsden. You say Dacia is not a flirt, Mr. But- 
 ler ; I wish you could have seen her only a 
 couple of days before we left England." 
 
 " You said but the truth, Mr. Butler, if you 
 said so; I am not a flirt. I despise flirting. It 
 is contemptible enough in a man, but it is worse 
 in a woman." 
 
 " That is one of your aunt's moral reflections," 
 said Mrs. Singleton with a sneer ; " and I suppose 
 she taught you to say it." 
 
 Miss Singleton made no reply ; she was too
 
 SUNDAY MORNING. 203 
 
 angry; but she turned round with an appealing 
 look to Mr. Butler, and said, "Believe me still 
 what you believed me before incapable of any 
 thing of the kind." 
 
 She naturally had a horror of such an accu- 
 sation getting abroad in a place like Dunkerque; 
 and though Mr. Butler himself might not repeat 
 the little quarrel he had been a witness to, from 
 ill-nature others might; and as Dacia had re- 
 marked to George Percival, she knew very well 
 she was not over-liked in the place ; certainly not 
 owing to any fault of hers, but simply from the 
 uncontrollable jealousy women feel for one that 
 is better-looking than themselves; and therefore 
 any thing detrimental to her would be well re- 
 ceived by most of the women-kind in the town. 
 
 " I am a foolish old man, my dear," replied 
 Mr. Butler; "but notwithstanding that, I think 
 my intellect still clear enough to judge your cha- 
 racter : and J think your good mother only spoke 
 as she did in order to keep you from falling into 
 the silly way of going on that some of our fair 
 Dunkerque ladies are apt to do. Flattery is their 
 daily bread, and they could not exist without it.
 
 204 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 But I must be off. You know on Sundays we 
 have a family-gathering, and sit down twelve to 
 dinner; and just think of eleven voices being 
 raised up against me for keeping their hungry 
 mouths waiting !" 
 
 " Ah, how you are to be envied, Mr. Butler ! 
 What would I not give to have as many to care 
 for me as you have !" 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Singleton, if I died to-morrow, 
 nine of the eleven would be totally indifferent. 
 My dear old wife would feel my loss bitterly, and 
 my daughter would grieve ; but what do you 
 think Percival or his eight children would care? 
 Not a sou! No, no, my dear lady; believe me, 
 we are, after a certain age, only appreciated for 
 what we can give or do for others. We may 
 have one to love us, or two, for our individual 
 selves; but that is very, very rare; and if it is 
 so, we ought to consider ourselves especially 
 blessed. It is but fair, after all. Each has 
 their day, and that day dawns in youth and 
 darkens in age. We must not expect its light 
 to shine on us always." 
 
 " O, I do not agree with you in the least.
 
 SUNDAY MOKNING. 205 
 
 I think every one but myself has numbers to 
 love them and care for them, and I have no one." 
 
 "No one! Why, look at that fair face be- 
 fore you. I think I see plenty of love written 
 on it at this moment, and pain as well, that you 
 should for an instant doubt it. If every mother 
 had such a daughter, there would not be one that 
 need call for sympathy." 
 
 " Dacia never loved me as most children love 
 their mother. Her father was her favourite, and 
 she was his. I believe latterly she was more to 
 him than Cecily and myself put together ; but it 
 has been my lot through life to be afflicted men- 
 tally as well as bodily." And as she finished 
 speaking, Mrs. Singleton passed her white hand 
 slowly over her still smooth forehead. A slight 
 regret arose within her as soon as the words 
 were uttered that she had alluded to her hus- 
 band's want of devotion before his death. It 
 would not have mattered, had she not stated 
 that her daughter received it instead of herself. 
 
 " I have talked you into a headache, I am 
 afraid," said Mr. Butler ; " and I am sure you 
 will be glad to get rid of me."
 
 206 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " No, indeed, I am not ; but a headache I am 
 rarely free from, as you know," she replied, giving 
 Mr. Butler her hand as he wished her good-bye. 
 
 When their visitor was gone, Dacia tried by 
 a few kind words to drive away the cloud that 
 was hanging over her mother. 
 
 "You are tired, mamma. Going to church 
 has been too much for you. Will you lie down 
 till dinner is ready ? I will get a pillow for you." 
 
 "No, thank you; I am not quite so infirm 
 as you would wish to make me out. I can still 
 manage to go to church without being obliged 
 to go to bed in consequence." 
 
 " Mamma, I did not mean any tiling of the 
 kind. But it is no use; try what I will, nothing 
 pleases," she added, more to herself than her mo- 
 ther, as she took up a book and sat down by the 
 window with the intention of reading; but she 
 felt too vexed to fix her mind on any subject for 
 the moment.
 
 CHAPTER XHI. 
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 
 
 HUGH MOSTYN, the newly-appointed English con- 
 sul at Dunkerque, was located at the Hotel du Cha- 
 peau Rouge till the house where the late consul 
 had resided was put in proper repair. Mr. Freer, 
 who had, in the absence of any other, been doing 
 the consul's duties, had received a telegram on 
 Saturday telling him that in the evening Mr. 
 Mostyn would arrive, which intelligence he im- 
 mediately communicated to Mr. Butler ; and to- 
 gether they were to receive him at the station, 
 and accompany him to the hotel, where they 
 had previously given directions for all to be in 
 readiness. 
 
 The new consul had not made a very favour- 
 able impression on the two Englishmen. He was 
 too cold, too proud, too haughty in his bearing to 
 create a liking on the part of those who had for
 
 208 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 many years been accustomed to the geniality of 
 foreign manners ; for, however shallow and insin- 
 cere they may be, they are none the less pleasant 
 to meet with. In home circles, English rough 
 genuineness may be of greater worth, but for out-of- 
 door life the creamy friendliness of our continental 
 neighbours is preferable. And, after all, the out- 
 of-door part of our existence is by far the most 
 important ; we have daily to do with manners, but 
 with the heart perhaps not once a year. 
 
 Neither of the two men imparted their thoughts 
 to the other, but they both felt relieved when they 
 had wished him good-night, and left him to his 
 solitary grandeur. Mr. Freer thought with some 
 regret of their late jovial consul, and Mr. Butler 
 poured into the ear of his blind wife his lament 
 over the ungracious way in which he thought Mr. 
 Mostyn had received their friendly advances. 
 
 On the following day, however, Mr. Butler 
 still continued his attentions, resolving that no- 
 thing should be left undone on his part. No one 
 else unless Mr. Freer would be expected to show 
 any peculiar civility, but he decidedly would, for 
 he was quite the representative of the whole Bri-
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 209 
 
 tish community in the place, and what he did was 
 as if they all did it ; besides that, his manner of 
 acting would be a guide to the rest. Therefore 
 he considered he did nothing more than was ac- 
 tually his duty when he walked back with Mostyn 
 to his hotel, after church. He did not stay more 
 than a few minutes, for he was clearly not wanted. 
 He gave the Singletons' address when asked, and 
 offered to show him the way if he felt so disposed, 
 but this was politely declined. He said he would 
 easily find his way, once having the name of the 
 street, but that he had one or two matters to 
 attend to before he went out. 
 
 It was nearly four o'clock before the Consul 
 started, accompanied by his dog, for his short 
 walk. He had no difficulty in finding the Rue 
 de 1'Eglise ; indeed any one who failed in finding 
 any street in the whole place must have been 
 marvellously devoid of the bump of locality. There 
 were but three or four principal streets, and they 
 all sprang from the centre spot of the town the 
 Grand Place. 
 
 Babette was out ; she had asked leave to attend 
 vespers ; and as Mrs. Singleton made no inquiry 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 as to what hour service began or ended, Babette 
 started off in all her Sunday finery as soon as she 
 had got rid of the dinner, leaving Maxwell in pos- 
 session of the kitchen ; a proceeding of which 
 Maxwell by no means approved. She thought it 
 highly derogatory to her position to do parlour- 
 maid's work. However, when the bell rang she 
 issued forth in all her fine lady's-maidism to 
 inquire who it was and what was wanted. She 
 knew it well enough, but she thought it more 
 proper to feign ignorance; and having given a 
 slight start, which was not assumed, at the long- 
 legged hairy dog that stood majestically at his 
 master's side, and on receiving orders retired to a 
 spot where he felt sure no one could tread on him, 
 she inquired the visitor's name, and duly announc- 
 ing him, retired again to her post, with an earnest 
 hope that Mr. Mostyn might have a " gentleman" 
 with him. He looked a likely person to have 
 such an appendage ; and if so, she anticipated 
 some amelioration to her present dulness ]\Ir. 
 Mostyn having a " gentleman," meaning simply a 
 valet. 
 
 Maxwell, as she passed, gave a glance at the
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 211 
 
 dog. He was sitting bolt upright, and his eyes 
 fixed on the door through which he had lost sight 
 of his master. " What a beast to go about with !" 
 she exclaimed; "he is enough to frighten one 
 into fits." 
 
 Mrs. Singleton was leaning back on the sofa. 
 She had become pretty well accustomed to its dis 
 comfort. Her eyes closed -not quite closing, but 
 nearly so the slanting rays of the setting sun 
 resting on her thin, delicate-looking face, and pro- 
 ducing a slight tinge of colour by no means un- 
 becoming to her, and her scent-bottle resting on 
 her dress, having slipped unconsciously from her 
 hand. Miss Singleton was standing by the Avin- 
 dow, her head leaning against the side, the 
 drapery of the curtains almost sheltering her 
 from view. Actually she was doing nothing, but 
 she was busy enough with thought. Her eyes 
 were watching the gay crowds walking up the 
 centre of the street, that were free from any fear 
 of being run over, as a carriage in Dunkerque if 
 one ever appeared was quite an exhibition, and 
 one sufficiently attractive to draw all eyes upon it ; 
 her thoughts were far away in her distant English
 
 212 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 home, or what till so lately had been. Her mother's 
 allusion to her father had saddened her, and she 
 gave way for the first time in her life to useless 
 regrets. If her father, her dear father, had but 
 lived; if this, if that had been, how different 
 would all things have turned out! But Dacia 
 Singleton had what few of her sex enjoy com- 
 mon sense ; and after a little it came to her aid. 
 She knew how utterly useless it was to indulge in 
 such idle dreams, or let her thoughts dwell at all 
 on the past. Till now she had been happy enough, 
 and she resolved to continue so. Strengthened 
 by her resolution, she was turning round with a 
 cheerful smile to make a remark to her mother, 
 when the door opened, and Maxwell announced 
 Mr. Mostyn. 
 
 Mrs. Singleton rose slowly, and received her 
 visitor with quite as much hauteur as he himself 
 could possibly have shown to Mr. Butler earlier 
 in the day ; but she intended to be as little cordial 
 as possible, owing to his friendship with Henry 
 Marsden ; why, she neither asked herself nor cared 
 to do so. The whole of her feelings in connection 
 with her youngest child were somewhat contra-
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 213 
 
 dictory and difficult to understand. There was, 
 and always had been, a mixture of jealousy and 
 affection not often, fortunately, to be met with. 
 She was annoyed if any marked attention was 
 shown to her daughter, but equally so if she fan- 
 cied she was not treated with sufficient deference. 
 She was a Singleton ; and as such she thought too 
 much could not be paid her ; but if possible, she 
 would have been the medium through which it 
 was received. She would, if she could, have kept 
 Dacia in the background like a child, only to be 
 brought forward at her mother's will and plea- 
 sure ; and the impracticability of this having, espe- 
 cially since John Singleton's death, become more 
 apparent, rendered her more captious and irritable 
 when there existed no seeming cause. 
 
 After one or two national remarks on the 
 weather, Miss Singleton, who had no desire to 
 mount her high horse also, asked in a tone that, 
 by comparison with the formal manner her mother 
 and Mr. Mostyn had been talking in, sounded 
 especially soft and gentle, "When you saw my 
 sister in London, did you think her looking well ?" 
 
 " If looking bright and happy is looking well,
 
 214 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 she certainly did; but you know I could hardly 
 be a judge, never having seen her before. She is 
 not the least like you, Miss Singleton." 
 
 His voice, too, sounded pleasanter than it had 
 done before. It gave one the impression before, 
 as if he and Mrs. Singleton were natural enemies, 
 and that common decency prevented their giving 
 free play to their feelings, and expressing their 
 sentiments openly to one another. 
 
 "Yes, my daughters are very different," said 
 Mrs. Singleton, in a tone implying that she meant 
 in disposition as well as appearance. 
 
 " My sister is generally thought like mamma, 
 and I used to be like my poor father. Cecily 
 wrote to us that you had dined with her one even- 
 ing; but that is some little time ago; have you 
 seen her since f ' 
 
 " Yes, twice since that day," replied Mostyn, 
 fixing his full clear eyes steadily on Dacia. He 
 thought, notwithstanding the stern sombre look 
 on his handsome face, there was something she 
 liked in his expression. "My friend Marsden, 
 as you of course heard, introduced me to your 
 sister, and he insisted upon my calling there
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 215 
 
 perhaps oftener than was agreeable. I am the 
 bearer of a small packet for you, Mrs. Singleton, 
 and also a letter, which I took out of my desk 
 just now, intending to bring, but I stupidly left it 
 behind me ; I will, however, send my servant 
 round with it as soon as I get back." 
 
 " Thank you. I thought probably my daugh- 
 ter had written." 
 
 "Did you ever see my aunt, Mrs. Ewart, at 
 my sister's ?" asked Miss Singleton. 
 
 " Once ; the last time I was in Hertford-street 
 she was there." 
 
 "And did she say any thing about coming 
 over to see us ?" 
 
 "No, she did not allude to it in any way." 
 
 " Did she not send me us any message ?" 
 
 " Really, Dacia, Mr. Mostyn will be worn out 
 by your foolish questions. Pray, how many more 
 are you going to ask f 
 
 Mostyn looked up surprised at the tone in 
 which Mrs. Singleton addressed her daughter. 
 
 " O, you must forgive me teasing you with 
 all these questions ; I forgot that they could not 
 interest you ; but it is such a great pleasure to
 
 216 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 see any one that has just arrived from dear old 
 England, and seen my sister and aunt. I feel 
 as if I had been away so long, and every thing 
 I can hear about them gives me pleasure." 
 
 "And I assure you it affords me equally as 
 much to tell you the little I know. I must not 
 forget to deliver one message, however, that Mrs. 
 Ewart did send, though I am afraid, if I give it 
 literally, it will not sound very courteous from 
 the lips of a stranger." 
 
 "Never mind that; provided you give it me 
 correctly, I will forgive it, whatever it is," said 
 Dacia with a smile. 
 
 " Then I was to tell you, you were excessively 
 lazy, and that unless you shortly redeem your 
 character, Mrs. Ewart will cease to hold any 
 further communion with you." 
 
 " Dear Mum !" exclaimed Dacia. " Was that 
 all? I was so in hopes she would have said 
 something about spending Christmas with us." 
 
 " Yes, that was all from her ; but I have yet 
 another message for you from Henry Marsden." 
 Mostyn paused a moment, and watched Miss 
 Singleton's countenance very closely, as he men-
 
 THE FIKST VISIT. 217 
 
 tioned his friend's name. Had the day not 
 closed in, and the light from the fire cast a fic- 
 titious colour over her face, he would have seen 
 the natural glow that overspread it as he spoke ; 
 but it arose simply from the recollection of her 
 sister's letter and her remarks about him. 
 
 "Has he not yet left England?" asked Mrs. 
 Singleton. "I thought he was told to avoid the 
 winter in a cold climate." 
 
 " He crossed to Calais with me yesterday, and 
 continued his way to Paris, en route for Cannes. 
 Had I not been very firm with him, he would 
 have come round by Dunkerque, declaring it was 
 not the least out of his way, and so have run 
 risks that might have proved very serious to him. 
 However, I promised to give him a welcome in 
 the spring; and so he desired me to say, Miss 
 Singleton, that he hopes to meet you again, as 
 he told you he should, the moment he is allowed 
 once more to breathe the northern air." 
 
 " It will give me the greatest pleasure to meet 
 him again," replied Dacia, who had perfectly re- 
 covered her self-possession, but had a nervous 
 dread that her mother might say something vex-
 
 218 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 ing on the subject; "but I am very glad you 
 dissuaded him from delaying his journey to the 
 south; the weather is cold, and in the mornings 
 we frequently have heavy sea fogs, which I am 
 sure would be very bad for him. You do not 
 think him worse, do you ?" 
 
 "He is not better; I fear he never will be." 
 Mostyn's voice was lowered as he replied. He 
 evidently felt deeply on the subject. 
 
 " Of course he will not," said Mrs. Singleton ; 
 "one has but to look in his face, to see death 
 written there." 
 
 The words, and tone they were spoken in, 
 jarred painfully both on Dacia and Mostyn. It 
 is distressing to hear any one we are interested 
 in, and who is in either sorrow or sickness, spoken 
 of in a careless light manner ; still more so if it be 
 one that is especially loved ; and Henry Marsden 
 was as dear to his friend as a brother. 
 
 Mostyn now rose to leave : he merely bowed 
 to both ladies ; he had lived so much away from 
 his own country, that he had not the English 
 habit of shaking hands with people, unless he 
 was on very intimate terms.
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 219 
 
 "Poor Marsden!" lie thought, as he slowly 
 strolled back towards his hotel, with his dog by 
 his side. "Poor fellow! I doubt much if that 
 girl cares for him ; and if she does, what would it 
 matter? She would be false to him if it suited 
 her. Better far that he should be a little disap- 
 pointed now, than have his heart torn to shreds 
 and his honour trampled under foot later. I 
 believe every woman breathing is innately false ; 
 it is chance, and nothing more, if she goes through 
 life honestly and truthfully. Their whole exist- 
 ence is a he. They are born and bred to deceive. 
 However, it matters little to me ; I need not care 
 what they are: but I would spare Harry unne- 
 cessary sorrow, if I could. I am glad I did not 
 let him come here now, for by the spring, if he 
 is alive and able to come, that girl will be mar- 
 ried. She is very beautiful, there is no doubt. 
 He said no more in her praise, as far as her face 
 goes, than she deserves ; but I suppose she is 
 like her sister in other respects, vain and frivolous! 
 That fellow Moncrieffe will have his eyes open 
 some day to the folly of trusting a woman. I 
 would as soon trust to a sprained ankle ! They
 
 220 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 can't help falling, I really believe. I should have 
 felt rather disposed in favour of Miss Singleton, 
 had I not, like a burnt child, learnt to dread the 
 fire ; and besides that, her mother seems a weak 
 silly woman, and no doubt she is the same. No, 
 old fellow," he added, laying his hand on his 
 dog's head, " there's no friend, no companion, 
 that will be ever half so devoted and faithful as 
 you are. We have gone on very steadily and 
 quietly for a couple of years ; we won't now let 
 any thing interfere with our peace." 
 
 And with such reflections and resolutions did 
 Hugh Mostyn and Sancho get back to the hotel. 
 Mostyn rang his bell, and sent his servant off im- 
 mediately with Mrs. Moncrieffe's letter, and de- 
 sired him to say the packet should follow the 
 next day, as it was packed up in a trunk that had 
 not yet been opened. 
 
 Maxwell thus had her hope fulfilled ; and Mr. 
 Mostyn's "gentleman" seemed as gratified at the 
 discovery of Maxwell's existence as she was at 
 his ; however the masters seemed disposed to keep 
 aloof from too close an intimacy, no such senti- 
 ment appeared likely to influence the servants.
 
 THE FIRST VISIT. 221 
 
 When Dacia and her mother were again 
 alone, she made an attempt once or twice to talk 
 to her about their visitor ; but Mrs. Singleton was 
 not in a conversational mood, and only made 
 short replies, and those not amiable ones ; so she 
 gave it up, and sat brooding over the subject ; 
 wondering, as one does wonder, on any matter 
 that interests us, all sorts of foolish things, and 
 feeling certain that the new Consul was not at all 
 likely to meet with much sympathy in Dunkerque 
 society, if he maintained the same haughty, proud 
 manner he had assumed with them or she might 
 more correctly have put it, her mother. 
 
 Mrs. Ewart had no cause to complain of the 
 length of her niece's next letter, nor of the 
 period she allowed to elapse between it and the 
 one that succeeded it.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 
 
 FOR nearly a week after his arrival Hugh Mostyn 
 was daily inundated with visitors men, women, 
 and children, French and English; they flooded 
 on him with a determination that was more flat- 
 tering than pleasant. But one man had kept 
 aloof, and that was George Percival. On the 
 fourth day he left his card ; but beyond that the 
 Consul heard and saw nothing of him, which pro- 
 bably was the reason of Mostyn's returning his 
 visit before he did any other. They were both 
 men of proud reserved tempers ; so the chances 
 were, unless some unforeseen circumstances drew 
 them together, they would remain strangers to 
 each other. 
 
 Mrs. Thomas was exceedingly indignant with 
 her husband because he absolutely refused to take 
 her with him when he went to pay his respects.
 
 MKS. THOMAS HAS HEE OWN WAY. 223 
 
 She could never understand how Mr. Thomas 
 dared oppose her wishes; for, as she incessantly 
 drummed into his ear, "you married me for my 
 fortune, and though it is imperceptive," meaning 
 in perspective, " you know that it is all you care 
 about." 
 
 " Yes, my dear, it is imperceptive/' was the 
 retort ; " you never spoke a truer word." 
 
 Mr. Thomas was a stout, red-faced, white- 
 haired man, not of the most amiable of tempers 
 his wife had thoroughly succeeded in destroying it 
 and verging on sixty. If ever he opposed her in 
 any foolish'fancy, of which she was over-burdened, 
 she, as in the present instance, nagged at him not 
 for a day only, but for a week at least. They 
 lived in a house in the Rue de Sechelles ; but the 
 disorder and confusion that incessantly reigned 
 within rendered it more like a bear-garden than 
 any thing else. 
 
 They were seated at breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Thomas and" four children the elder ones; the 
 other two being too young to be available for the 
 family breakfast-table. Mrs. Thomas had her tall 
 angular body encased in a dirty tumbled cotton
 
 224 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 wrapper ; Mr. Thomas was her equal in his outer 
 garments, excepting the material, his dressing- 
 gown being woollen. Miss Thomas had on a 
 black-and-green-checked dress that was terribly 
 the worse for wear ; the other three children were 
 not one bit better in any respect. 
 
 "I really think, Thomas" Mrs. Thomas al- 
 ways addressed her husband by his sirname " it is 
 shameful the way you treat me in ; all my wishes 
 go for nothing, and all my endeavours to further 
 the propriety of my family are scored." 
 
 " For heaven's sake hold your stupid tongue !" 
 was the only reply her husband vouchsafed to this 
 remonstrance. 
 
 Miss Thomas never thought of explaining her 
 mother's misspoken words at home ; they were 
 thoroughly intelligible to her family circle. 
 
 " But I tell you I have an object in view. I 
 especially wish to call on the Consul, as I have the 
 welfare of a certain member of our family in pro- 
 creation. Mr. Mostyn may prove a very, very 
 a proper sort of person ;" she was at a loss here 
 for a good word ; " and by our showing ourselves 
 hospital people, we may be able to get intimate
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 225 
 
 with him. I am quite sure if we are not very 
 active, that creature Mrs. Singleton will catch 
 him for her pale-faced, yellow-haired daughter." 
 
 " O, that's what you are driving at, is it?" 
 said Mr. Thomas, without lifting his eyes off an 
 old Times newspaper he was, or seemed to he, 
 reading. " Well then, take my advice, and let it 
 drop ; with me, at any rate, it won't do. I will be 
 no party to husband-catching." 
 
 Mrs. Thomas knew very well, by the tone this 
 was said in, there was not a vestige of use in dis- 
 cussing the matter further. So, after finishing a 
 tepid cup of coffee, she got up, leaving her hus- 
 band to help himself and the children also, if he or 
 they required any thing more, merely remarking 
 in a tone of intense anger as she left the room, 
 
 " You're a brute, Thomas a bouncing brute !" 
 
 A quiet smile passed over Thomas's red face, 
 and he went on with his paper, nothing disturbed 
 by the immediate warfare that was openly pro- 
 claimed between the two youngest children pre- 
 sent the moment their mother's back was turned. 
 There is nothing like custom to reconcile one to 
 any thing ; so that when, as a climax, the coffee- 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 pot was turned over and a brown stream came 
 flowing rapidly along the table till it reached the 
 spongy woollen dressing-gown, soaking the shirt- 
 sleeve within, as well as the fat arm that was rest- 
 ing on the table, Mr. Thomas, beyond endeavour- 
 ing to box the ears of whoever was nearest to him, 
 and shaking as much of the liquid down as would 
 come, was contented to finish his paper before he 
 made an attempt to remove his coffee-steeped gar- 
 ment. 
 
 It was Mrs. Thomas's rule, and that of her 
 household, not to dress so as to be presentable to 
 the outer world till after dinner; and they al- 
 ways dined at one o'clock. As far as the fashion 
 of the place went, it was not necessary, as no one 
 ever paid or received visits in Dunkerque till after 
 two o'clock ; therefore, unless their individual com- 
 fort required it, the people might walk about their 
 houses in their night-garments. 
 
 At a little before three on the day of Mrs. 
 Thomas's failure in attempting to make her hus- 
 band take her with him to the Consul's, she was 
 ready equipped for the streets. No one, looking 
 at her now, could possibly believe her the same
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 227 
 
 woman that looked such a dirty drab in the 
 morning. Her dictionary daughter was with 
 her, equally well got up. 
 
 Mrs. Thomas's face portended something about 
 to be done out of the usual routine. She looked 
 fussy and excited, her eyes danced with a little 
 contented yet anxious look, and she seemed, be 
 fore going out, to be excessively anxious about 
 learning her husband's movements. Where was 
 he going first ? Had he any tiling to do before 
 he went to pay his visit to the Consul ? 
 
 "What the devil is it to you where I am 
 going?" 
 
 " My dear, I was desirous of knowing, because 
 if you were going towards the port, you might 
 have told Meridon not to mind sending the boots 
 I ordered for Lottie ; for I find they will be super- 
 cilious." 
 
 " Go and countermand your supercilious boots 
 yourself! I am going straight to the Chapeau 
 Rouge." 
 
 Mrs. Thomas had learnt all she required to know. 
 
 " Where are you going, mamma f ' asked Miss 
 Thomas, now that they were in the street.
 
 228 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Prima facie to the Hervieus, and afterwards 
 I have another visit to pay, in conjugation with 
 which I must " 
 
 " Pray, mamma, when you are out any where, 
 try and avoid Latin words; for I declare I can't 
 explain what you mean if you do. The English 
 ones are hard enough sometimes." 
 
 "Why do you persevere at all with what I 
 say?" asked Mrs. Thomas snappishly. She did 
 not care one straw about her failing herself; in- 
 deed she was hardly conscious of it, it had grown 
 on her so gradually ; and her only annoyance con- 
 nected with it was her daughter's constant cor- 
 rections. 
 
 The Hervieus were at home. Leonie rushed 
 up to Elizabeth Thomas, and received her with all 
 the affectionate demonstration she invariably dis- 
 played to any girl she had no cause to be jealous 
 of. It was very pleasant for her to feel there was 
 some one by her side whose inattractive looks by 
 contrast made her own seem so much more fasci- 
 nating. Neither was she behind in flattery on 
 such occasions. 
 
 " Mais que tu est charmante aujourd'hui, Eli-
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 229 
 
 sabeth /" she exclaimed, looking at poor Miss Tho- 
 mas's convex-shaped face, but which wore a 
 pleased look ; for flattery is as welcome to a wo- 
 man as cream to a cat. 
 
 " You can afford to pay compliments, Leonie," 
 replied Miss Thomas, moving a little nearer to her 
 mother as she spoke, knowing very well she would 
 be wanted ; for though Madame Hervieu talked 
 very good English, it was beyond her capabilities 
 to make head or tail of Mrs. Thomas's." 
 
 " Have you heard that Mrs. Merivale's son is 
 likely to pay her a visit soon?" asked Madame 
 Hervieu. 
 
 " No," replied Mrs. Thomas ; " I did not know 
 she suspected him." 
 
 " Expected, mamma ! expected !" 
 
 " I am sick of hearing about Merivale's son," 
 said Leonie. Since they came to live at Dun- 
 kerque, Mrs. Merivale has talked of no one 
 else." 
 
 "Well, ma petite, he may prove as fascinating 
 as she says he is ; and then, I am sure, we shall 
 be glad to welcome him, n'est-ce pas f 
 
 " Not I, grandmamma, at all events !" said
 
 230 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 Leonie, with a toss of her pretty head. "It is 
 like the English consul ; the very thought of him 
 puts me in a rage." 
 
 "Why?" asked Miss Thomas. 
 
 " Why ! because you English are making such 
 a horrible fuss about him. And what is he, after 
 all ? only a man." 
 
 "And a very sober, steady, quiet man too," 
 said Madame Hervieu. 
 
 "Have you seen him, Madame Hervieu?" 
 asked Mrs. Thomas. 
 
 " Yes ; I called with the General yesterday." 
 
 " There, Elizabeth ! You see I ought to have 
 accommodated your father. He would not let me 
 go with him, madame ; and it stands to reason if 
 you could go, so could I." 
 
 Madame Hervieu shrugged her shoulders and 
 pursed up her h'ps. 
 
 "It is the fashion here," she said, "but per- 
 haps not in your country, for ladies to call on any 
 one who comes to fill an official post." 
 
 "It's because she talks so oddly, perhaps?" 
 asked Leonie Hervieu in an under-tone to ]\Iiss 
 Thomas, who nodded an assent she feared to
 
 MKS. THOMAS HAS HEK OWN WAY. 231 
 
 speak; for her mother would never have for- 
 given her had she thought she discussed her fail- 
 ing with any one, though she would not consider 
 or admit it as such herself. 
 
 " Did you see the Consul, Leonie ?" 
 
 " Yes, of course I did. Grandmamma would 
 make me go too. A regular Englishman ; fiere, 
 mais fiere a faire peur ! II est lean, il rfy a pas a 
 dire ; mais } mon Dieu, il a Fair si farouche que 
 fetais bien contente de rnen aller" 
 
 " Ah, you are talking of our handsome Con- 
 sul," said Chattering Chorley, coming in, smiling 
 from ear to ear. " I know you were, Leonie, be- 
 cause I heard just now that you had said you could 
 not endure him. I have just come from the 
 Watsons. They are quite charmed with him, and 
 said he was so polite to them, and 
 
 " Well, I suppose he is a tamed savage. But 
 the Watsons would call him polite any way ; they 
 think every one is polite," replied Leonie. " How- 
 ever, I think him simply detestable." 
 
 " Do you know," said Miss Chorley, " the 
 only people he has called on yet are the Single- 
 tons, and he went to them last Sunday after
 
 232 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 church ; and he only arrived the night before. 
 Isn't it strange ? Do you know I shouldn't at all 
 wonder if he fell in love with that beautiful Miss 
 Singleton." 
 
 " I don't see why Miss Singleton's abstractions 
 should be instructive " 
 
 " Attractions and productive, mamma !" 
 
 " should be distructive of more admira- 
 tion than the substractions of several other young 
 ladies I could name." 
 
 " O dear, O dear !" exclaimed Miss Thomas 
 despairingly. 
 
 11 Ni moi non plus, madame!" said Leonie, 
 gathering Mrs. Thomas's meaning. " Why here 
 is our chaivnante Elisabeth ; fancy her becoming la 
 grande dame parmi vous autres Anglaises here in 
 Dunkerque !" 
 
 Mrs. Thomas gave a significant smile, as if 
 that point was already settled ; and having chatted 
 a little longer, she rose, saying she had other visits 
 to pay, and it was getting late. Miss Elizabeth 
 followed her mother, hampered by a new and 
 wild idea that she was fascinating, and might after 
 all have as good a chance of becoming the Con-
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 233 
 
 sul's wife as any of the other young ladies on 
 their preferment. Perhaps she had. 
 
 " Are you going to the Butlers f ' asked Miss 
 Chorley, just as Mrs. Thomas reached the door ; 
 " because if so, I will go with you. I want to see 
 poor dear Mrs. Butler." 
 
 " No, no ; I am going quite in another direc- 
 tion ;" and before Miss Chorley could say another 
 word Mrs. Thomas hurried off with her daughter. 
 
 " Funny woman, that Mrs. Thomas," remarked 
 Miss Chorley, returning to finish off her visit a 
 little less abruptly than she would have done, had 
 she been able to hook herself on to the Thomases. 
 "She must be a little mad, or she will be soon, 
 if she goes on getting worse, as she has lately." 
 Miss Chorley smiled pleasantly over the idea. 
 
 Hugh Mostyn had just bowed out Mr. Way. 
 Mr. Way had paid his respects to the Consul on 
 the Monday after his arrival ; this was his second 
 visit ; but the impression made on the Sunday 
 morning, when he heard him rattling over the 
 prayers, had not been improved. 
 
 " A huge beast and nothing more," was Mos- 
 tyn's inward thought as he saw the colossal pro-
 
 234 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 portions of the British chaplain disappear. Sancho 
 had shown no friendly feelings towards him. The 
 dog was a great discerner of character ; he never 
 erred. When Mr. Way first entered the room he 
 growled audibly ; but watching his master closely, 
 and perceiving no signs of enmity on his part, he 
 contented himself by lying down close to Mostyn, 
 but where he had the parson well in view, and he 
 never took his eyes off him. He clearly had his 
 suspicions, which were not to be removed by a 
 seeming friendliness of manner. When he was 
 gone, he ran his long thin nose into his master's 
 hand, as much as to say, " We've got rid of him." 
 
 " Why, Sancho, you have a worse impression 
 of him than I have." 
 
 Sancho seemed perfectly to understand every 
 word said to him; he looked up steadily for a 
 moment, and then went and lay down but keep- 
 ing the door in view at Mostyn's feet. 
 
 The moment the Consul felt sure Mr. Way 
 must be well gone, he rang his bell. The waiter 
 answered the summons very quickly; he had learnt 
 already that monsieur would not put up with 
 being kept waiting.
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAT. 235 
 
 " Monsieur a sonnti T ' 
 
 "Send my servant here. Hervey," he con- 
 tinued when the man came, "will you see that 
 110 one else is let in. I have letters that must go 
 by to-night's mail, and I cannot be disturbed any 
 more." 
 
 Hervey bowed and disappeared. Then Mostyn 
 began his letters. One to his mother, that ought 
 to have gone two or three days ago, another to 
 Henry Marsden, and some business letters. He 
 was in the very middle of the first, giving his 
 mother an account of the place and the people, 
 as far as he could judge of either, omitting, how- 
 ever, all mention of the Singletons every thing 
 concerning them he kept for Marsden. Cer- 
 tainly if Hugh Mostyn could have been possibly 
 guilty of writing a comic letter, this was one; 
 from the big parson down to poor old blind 
 Mrs. Butler, he described them ; the old lady was 
 the only one he spared. Had the letter fallen 
 into the hands of any of the residents, and they 
 had seen what impression they had produced on 
 their handsome Consul, heaven knows what sort 
 of life he would have led in the place. He was
 
 236 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 sketching grinning Chattering Chorley, when 
 Hervey showed his face, which wore a perplexed 
 look. 
 
 " What is it ?" asked his master, looking up 
 and speaking sharply. 
 
 " Well, sir, there are two ladies asking for 
 you. I said at first you were not at home, but 
 they didn't seem to understand that only meant 
 you couldn't see them; for they said they were 
 sure you were not out, the waiter told them so. 
 So then I said you were engaged and couldn't 
 be disturbed; but they insisted on my bringing 
 up this card, and said they were quite sure you 
 would receive them. It was the old one spoke, 
 though the young one explained what she meant ; 
 for she spoke in such an odd manner I couldn't 
 make it out, sir." 
 
 " Thomas ! Why, a Mr. Thomas called this 
 afternoon; it must be some more of his family. 
 O, I suppose you must let them in, as they know 
 I am in the house. Show them up, Hervey. 
 What in the world can women want with me?" 
 wondered Mostyn when his servant left the room. 
 "If they only knew how much I should prefer
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 237 
 
 their staying away. Besides, I can do nothing, 
 for the way in which they all beset me. I am 
 afraid I shall not like this place, though it must 
 be better when I get into my own house ; there, 
 at any rate, I can have quiet." 
 
 "Mrs. and Miss Thomas." 
 
 "I could not allow my husband to be the 
 only membrane of my family to call and pay you 
 the respect due to one filling the position you do 
 amongst the English reservoirs in Dunkerque. 
 So I have come, Mr. Mostyn, with my daughter 
 Miss Thomas, my eldest daughter to tell you 
 how dissembling we are that fortune has sent us 
 one so flatulent and gifted as I understand you 
 to be; and to say how highly honoured we shall 
 feel if you will condescend to look upon our house 
 as yours whilst you are included from your own. 
 I know it will be but a temporal pleasure, but 
 still it will not be the less valued." 
 
 Mostyn, who had by sign requested the two 
 ladies to be seated, for he could not get in a word 
 to do so otherwise, now stood with his large ex- 
 pressive eyes staring in bewildered amazement. 
 That he was of the same opinion as Miss Chorley
 
 238 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 in thinking Mrs. Thomas rather mad, is saying 
 very little; he thought her some unfortunate lu- 
 natic that had escaped, and he turned to the dic- 
 tionary daughter, who was, like himself, utterly 
 dumbfounded ; her mother had rattled on at such 
 a pace, she had no opportunity of giving out her 
 usual explanations, and when she did cease, she 
 thought it perfectly useless, as well as next to 
 impossible, to offer the slightest clue to what she 
 meant. On the other hand, Mrs. Thomas began 
 to think the tall handsome man before her exces- 
 sively ill-bred. He might at any rate thank her 
 for her civility, she thought, if nothing more. 
 Finding no one spoke, she. said : 
 
 " Mr. Thomas, I believe, has paid his prospects 
 to you. Mr. Thomas, a buif-looking man, is my 
 husband. Perhaps he did not mention his being 
 a familiar man. The fact is, he is by no means a 
 hospital person, and so I dissolutely determined to 
 come with my daughter, and distress upon you 
 how elevated we shall be if you will take us. as you 
 find us, and consonantly drop in whenever you are 
 not otherwise engraved." 
 
 " Mamma, if you go on so, I can't help you !"
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 239 
 
 Then, after a moment's pause, she added, in a 
 really distressed tone, "Mr. Mostyn seems very 
 busy ; I think we must be disturbing him ; had 
 we not better go ?" 
 
 At this moment Sancho, who had remained up 
 till now quiet and invisible, came forward and 
 walked straight up to the ladies. They naturally 
 gave a start, a little scream, and a volley of ridicu- 
 lous words burst out from poor Mrs. Thomas. 
 
 " He is perfectly harmless," said Hugh. " Lie 
 down again, Sancho." The dog instantly walked 
 back in a stately manner to his retreat, and then 
 his master continued: "Really, I am afraid you 
 think me very uncourteous; but the fact is 
 I do not quite understand you. Can I be of any 
 service to you? Miss Thomas," and he turned to 
 the young lady, " can I call any one to assist you?" 
 
 He thought to get the mad woman back to 
 where she came from was more than the younger 
 one could accomplish alone. Both ladies, however, 
 looked surprised. They had asked for no assist- 
 ance. 
 
 "O, dear, no; we want no resistance, thank 
 you ! We only came to offer to resist you "
 
 240 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 "But, madam, I have no desire to oppose 
 you, I assure you." 
 
 " O, I was quite sure you would not ; but we 
 heard so much of your preserve that " 
 
 "There must be some mistake," said Hugh, 
 thinking he was taken for a confectioner. " I have 
 no preserves ; and if you will but tell me if there 
 is any thing in which I can be of use to you, I 
 shall be very happy ; if not, my time is somewhat 
 occupied, and " 
 
 " O, mamma, do let us go !" 
 
 "Nonsense, my dear; Mr. Mostyn does not 
 demoralise who we are ; but if we are really con- 
 straining your time, which must, of course, be 
 very volatile, we will not restrain you longer. 
 But I shall look forward with great pleasure to 
 deceive you in my own house." 
 
 As Mrs. Thomas thus held out a hope of 
 speedily going, Mostyn determined no word or 
 look of his should give her a chance of changing 
 her mind. As she stood up, and held out her 
 well-gloved hand for Mostyn to take, which he 
 seemed rather shy of doing, she said : 
 
 " I did not tell you my father is Jackson and
 
 MRS. THOMAS HAS HER OWN WAY. 241 
 
 Johnson, the enervated brewers. I mean one of 
 them is my father. I was Miss Johnson, the 
 daughter of the seeming partner. Properly you 
 are antiquated with Jackson and Johnson ?" 
 
 "Mamma means, do you know them?" said 
 Miss Thomas, seeing the intensely amused look 
 on Mostyn's face. She could bear any thing but 
 being laughed at. 
 
 " I know them by reputation, and I am a great 
 friend to their beer," he said. 
 
 "Then you must come to us consonantly at 
 Christmas-time ; for Jackson and Johnson always 
 send us over a barrel of then* best, and I am sure, 
 when you taste it, you will say it is the most de- 
 lirious that ever was made." 
 
 " I shall be most happy to do so," said Mostyn, 
 willing to promise any thing, so long as he got 
 rid, by doing so, of his strange visitors. 
 
 " Now I shall go away quite distorted. Ee- 
 member you are not to be fordable with us, and I 
 shall inspect you soon." 
 
 Miss Thomas had already made her escape; 
 she seized the first opportunity, and did not wait 
 even to wish the Consul good-bye ; she was too 
 
 VOL. i. B
 
 242 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 thankful to get away. I don't think after that 
 visit she ever thought again of becoming the Con- 
 sul's wife. She awoke very speedily from her 
 short day-dream.
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 SANCHO'S IMPRESSION IS FAVOURABLE. 
 
 IT was some days after the Thomas's visit that 
 Hugh Mostyn was walking down the Rue de 
 1'Eglise, towards the Rue du Sud, whither he was 
 going to see when his house was likely to be 
 finished and ready to receive him, that he saw 
 Mrs. Thomas, with two of her children her dic- 
 tionary daughter not being one of them making 
 towards him. To escape was his first thought, 
 and where to, the next; for the recollection of 
 their first interview was quite sufficient to impel 
 him to any step in order to avoid a second. As 
 fate would have it, a couple of houses brought 
 him to the Singletons' door; and in he rushed, 
 hardly giving himself time to think what he was 
 doing. Had he been trying to escape the horrors
 
 244 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 of an avalanche, he could not have been more 
 rapid in his endeavours to escape it. He walked 
 with quick steps along the dark stone passage he 
 seemed to know his way tolerably well and as- 
 cended the stairs two steps at a time, as if he were 
 being pursued by some evil spirit. Sancho thought 
 something was amiss, for he declined to leave his 
 master's side. Hugh was out of breath when he 
 reached the landing ; and then he recollected he 
 had forgotten to ring the bell ; but he would not 
 go down again ; so he hunted about, and found it 
 suspended just outside the kitchen-door ; he gave 
 it a touch, and Babette appeared. 
 " Is Madame Singleton at home ?" 
 Babette thought not ; but she would go and 
 see. She returned in a moment. Madame was 
 out, but Mademoiselle was at home; and would 
 Monsieur walk in. Mostyn knew some one was 
 at home, for he heard the piano, and, he fancied, 
 singing as well. He thought it would not seem 
 courteous if he now declined going in ; yet he 
 rather objected to the idea of a tete-a-tete conver- 
 sation with any woman; however, the vision of 
 Mrs. Thomas in the street, and of the chances, if
 
 SANCHO'S IMPEESSION IS FAVOURABLE. 245 
 
 he did not, of perhaps really meeting her and no 
 hope of escape, decided him ; so he followed Ba- 
 bette into the pretty drawing-room. 
 
 " You beautiful fellow!" was Miss Singleton's 
 greeting. 
 
 For half a second Hugh stood like one petri- 
 fied; then he saw his dog by his side, and he 
 understood the exclamation. But during that 
 half second he thought he had but escaped one 
 lunatic to fall into the hands of another. 
 
 " Go out, Sancho ! I apologise, Miss Single- 
 ton, for this intrusion. I had no notion my dog 
 had come in." 
 
 " Do not send him out. Is he gentle ? Pray 
 let him stay ;" and Miss Singleton placed her hand 
 on Sancho's head, and he remained passive under 
 the caress. From that day forth Sancho and 
 Dacia were friends friends to the end. Presently 
 he lay down beside her, his calm intelligent face 
 looking up gratefully into hers. He had under- 
 stood the whole scene ; and I think he had some 
 undefined notion that Miss Singleton had done 
 his master a service as well as himself. 
 
 Miss Singleton was closing the piano as her
 
 246 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 visitors entered. Hugh was passionately fond of 
 music, and wondered whether she could play, or 
 merely do as most young ladies do, make a great 
 noise and no melody. Whether or no, he was 
 willing to think her as incapable as all others, and 
 so make no inquiry about it. The conversation 
 was not very brilliant. Presently Miss Singleton 
 said : 
 
 " Mamma will regret being out ; but she gene- 
 rally takes her walk at this hour. How do you 
 think you will like Dunkerque or rather, the 
 people ?" 
 
 " Indeed I ought to like them very much, for 
 they so overwhelm me with attention, that 1 posi- 
 tively have not a moment to attend even to busi- 
 ness, much less pleasure ; and I feel at this moment 
 I have no right to intrude on you ; for, to tell you the 
 honest truth, I came in here, as a ship fearing to 
 encounter a gale would make for the nearest port 
 to avoid it, and not to pay a visit." 
 
 There was a lightness in Hugh's tone, and 
 a brightening up of his countenance as he spoke 
 that rather surprised Dacia, who could not the 
 least understand what he meant; but he seemed
 
 SANCHO'S IMPKESSION IS FAVOUKABLE. 247 
 
 evidently amused ; and it was totally against her 
 preconceived idea of his character that he could 
 possibly have any thing approaching to fun or 
 merriment in his composition. 
 
 " I am at sea," she said, laughing, " though 
 you seem to think yourself in a harbour." 
 
 " Do you know any one of the name of 
 Thomas?" 
 
 " O yes ; they live here for the education of 
 their children, I believe." 
 
 " But Mrs. Thomas is she mad?" 
 
 " No, not mad ; at least as far as her actions 
 go, though certainly her words are peculiar. She 
 has an unhappy knack of always saying wrong 
 words, at times making the most ridiculous mean- 
 ing, at others having no meaning at all. She goes 
 about with a daughter who interprets what she 
 wishes to say, and has obtained, in consequence, 
 the name of the dictionary daughter." 
 
 " Yes, those are the people. They called upon 
 me; but the dictionary daughter failed in her 
 interpreting powers, for she seemed as utterly con- 
 founded by it as I was. I assure you I thought 
 the elder lady had escaped from an asylum, and
 
 248 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 the younger one too bewildered to know what to 
 do with her." 
 
 . " What did they call on you for ?" Miss Sin- 
 gleton asked the question in simple astonishment, 
 not from curiosity. 
 
 " They did not tell me ; or at least if they did, 
 or rather Mrs. Thomas, for she spoke all the 
 tune, I failed in understanding. She talked of 
 my preserves and her buff husband, and the Eng- 
 lish reservoirs, till I confess I almost began to 
 fancy my own intellect must be giving way, or 
 that my ears had ceased to do their duty." 
 
 Dacia laughed with such a merry ringing 
 laugh so genuine, so unaffected that Mostyn 
 could not do otherwise than join in it. It was 
 long since he had laughed so heartily. 
 
 " She is natural, at all events," he thought, as 
 he looked at her ; " and there is a calmness in her 
 beauty that could hardly be there unless she pos- 
 sessed a conscience that had nothing to reproach 
 her with; but she is young now: a few years 
 more, and she will become like the rest of her sex, 
 false and faithless !" 
 
 These ideas flashed through his brain very
 
 SANCHO'S IMPRESSION IS FAVOURABLE. 249 
 
 rapidly, and he looked gloomy and sad imme- 
 diately after. 
 
 " What in the world possesses Mr. Thomas to 
 let his wife go about, I wonder? It would be 
 much better if she stayed at home and looked after 
 her children. Have you seen Mrs. Butler yet?" 
 
 "The poor old blind lady? Yes. I went to 
 see her the only visit I have paid, except to your- 
 selves. I went there, for Mr. Butler has been very- 
 attentive and civil to me. He met me on my 
 arrival, and the other day put me in the way of 
 getting my house finished more rapidly than I 
 otherwise should have done." 
 
 " They are a charming old couple, and the 
 Percivals are pleasant people. She is their 
 daughter." 
 
 " I should like to see Mr. Percival, for the 
 simple reason that he has been the solitary ex- 
 ception, I believe, amongst all the inhabitants of 
 the place in not seeking a personal interview with 
 me." 
 
 " He is a proud man, and not likely to seek 
 any one. I always feel sorry to think a man with 
 his knowledge of the world, and his desire to live
 
 250 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 in it, should be doomed to pass his existence in a 
 place like this, where he has no occupation of any 
 kind." 
 
 " Then why does he stay here f 
 
 " For the reason, I fancy, that keeps all the 
 English here, want of means." 
 
 Miss Singleton coloured up as she spoke ; 
 not that she was ashamed of being poor, but she 
 did not care to brood over it, still less to talk 
 about it. 
 
 " There are not many French residing here ?" 
 said Mostyn, anxious to change the subject. 
 
 " Not a great many ; in fact, the society is 
 very narrow altogether. The Hervieus head the 
 French community, as Mr. Butler does the Eng- 
 lish. But you will have an opportunity of judg- 
 ing of the whole collectively; for I suppose the 
 long-talked-of ball in honour of your arrival, which 
 is to be given at the Hotel de Yille, will soon take 
 place." 
 
 " A ball for me ! I hope most sincerely no- 
 thing of the kind will be. I never go to balls, 
 Miss Singleton." 
 
 " Never go to balls 1" exclaimed Dacia, looking
 
 SANCHO'S IMPKESSION IS FAVOURABLE. 251 
 
 astonished ; " why, do you not like them 1 I think 
 there is nothing so thoroughly enjoyable as a good 
 dance. I have been looking forward with so much, 
 pleasure to this ball. O, do not say you would 
 not go, or they might not have it, and I should be 
 so disappointed !" 
 
 Hugh's stern expression now natural to him 
 softened as he gazed at Dacia's pleading face ; 
 it was innocent and lovely enough to touch him 
 even ; and there was something in her openly ex- 
 pressed liking for a frivolous amusement that was 
 appreciated by the man of the world, who had 
 hitherto had the misfortune to fall amongst a class 
 of women who, in order to win his admiration, 
 gave in to his notions and likings. Therefore he 
 was as pleased as surprised to find Miss Singleton 
 had no intention of laying siege to him in that 
 form, at any rate. 
 
 Hugh Mostyn's handsome face had proved 
 almost a curse to him ; and yet it was a stern kind 
 of beauty, and always had been; but now there 
 was a sombre sadness that overspread his whole 
 features, which to women increased rather than 
 diminished his attractiveness. It called forth sym-
 
 252 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 pathy ; it gave the impression that some great 
 sorrow had overshadowed his existence. Yet when 
 he smiled all trace of harshness w r as lost ; his coun- 
 tenance brightened up for the moment as if by- 
 magic ; a ray of gladness overspread his features, 
 making the contrast the greater, as in the present 
 moment, when he answered Dacia. Till now 
 she had not fully realised his beauty, for to 
 her there was something painful in his usual 
 expression. 
 
 " You shall not be disappointed through me, 
 Miss Singleton." 
 
 " But you will have to go, then," she said, her 
 own face beaming with pleasure. 
 
 " Of course I shall, and I daresay shall enjoy 
 it, from the very novelty of the thing to me." 
 
 " But how did you manage to escape them at 
 Genoa? You were there, were you not, before 
 coming here?" 
 
 "Yes," he replied, his whole countenance in 
 an instant clouding over ; " one can generally 
 escape what one dislikes." 
 
 Miss Singleton noticed the change. Perhaps 
 then, after all, balls were peculiarly disagreeable
 
 SANCHO'S IMPRESSION IS FAVOURABLE. 253 
 
 to him ; and if so, why should she persist in her 
 request that he should go ? 
 
 " I release you from your promise," she said ; 
 " for I am sure you hate the thought so much that 
 I should be sorry to be mixed up in your mind 
 with any thing so disagreeable ; as, of course, you 
 would lay it all to my door." 
 
 He was silent a moment. He evidently had 
 been carried away by thought, and had not 
 even heard what she had said. Then he asked 
 her: 
 
 " Will you dance the first dance with me, Miss 
 Singleton f ' 
 
 He rose as he spoke, as if about to leave. 
 Dacia looked up somewhat surprised. 
 
 " No," she said ; " if you go, it will be quite 
 punishment enough, without any further inflic- 
 tions." 
 
 " Nous verrons ! perhaps you won't refuse me 
 at the time if I am very humble ? I think, by the 
 way, I have inflicted such a visitation on you that 
 I owe you an apology." 
 
 " Indeed it has been a great pleasure to me, 
 for I felt very dull when you came in. Mamma
 
 254 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 will not be long before she is home ; will you not 
 wait to see her ?" 
 
 " Not to-day ; but if she will permit me to 
 call again soon, I will do so ; only if I am trou- 
 blesome, you must say, ' Not at home.' " 
 
 " O, we do not say 'Not at home' in Dun- 
 kerque, unless it really happens to be so." 
 
 "A VAnglaise, may I shake hands with you?" 
 he said. 
 
 Miss Singleton held out her hand, blushing as 
 she did so. The fact of his asking permission 
 made her feel as if she were doing something out 
 of the ordinary rules of society. He looked at her 
 with an expression of interest, and she met his 
 clear eyes bent down on her with a feeling ap- 
 proaching to regret that she might not inquire 
 what the sorrow was that lay so heavily on him, 
 and that never seemed absent from his memory 
 but for a moment at a time. 
 
 Sancho seemed loth to leave. He submitted 
 to be patted, and replied to Dacia's kind words by 
 an intelligent look; he never wagged his tail, or 
 he might have resorted to that mode of expressing 
 his satisfaction.
 
 SANCHO'S IMPEESSION IS FAVOUEABLE. 255 
 
 " You are highly favoured, Miss Singleton, I 
 assure you. Sancho's regard is not lightly won ; 
 but when once he does take a fancy, he never 
 changes." 
 
 " Then, indeed, his regard is worth having," 
 replied Dacia. 
 
 It was nearly dark before Miss Singleton was 
 roused from the reverie she was indulging in. 
 Then her mother returned home and upbraided 
 her, as usual : this time on account of the dismal- 
 looking fire she found, instead of a bright blazing 
 one, which, if she did not find, she always com- 
 plained about. 
 
 " I quite forgot the fire," said Dacia ; " I did 
 not feel it cold." 
 
 " Like your usual selfishness, Dacia : because 
 you did not care for it yourself, it was a matter of 
 indifference to you whether I felt cold or not."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TOUT POUR MOI, RIEN POUR TOI. 
 
 DECEMBER was drawing to a close. The weather 
 was cold, damp, and foggy, and no place, to those 
 who considered their personal comfort, was more 
 tit to be in at such a season than home. The 
 bare idea of the country or seaside seemed to 
 drive one closer towards the fire. It might be 
 very pleasant when there, but it decidedly ap- 
 peared ungenial in perspective. 
 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe was sitting huddled up in a 
 large arm-chair. She was most unmistakably out 
 of temper, and she looked as if she would have 
 vented it on the furniture if she could, there being 
 no other available object, so overflowing did her 
 anger appear. Presently she heard a double 
 knock, a sharp, decided rap, the echo of which 
 seemed very familiar to her ear, for she started 
 up and looked in the glass, apparently with dis-
 
 TOUT POUR M01, 1UEN POUR TOI. 20 < 
 
 satisfaction at the result, for she began to try and 
 mould her face into a more pleasing look, and 
 then seated herself on the sofa, arranging her 
 dress, setting it off to better advantage than 
 when she was nose and knees together brooding 
 over her grievance. Mr. Robert Reeves was 
 announced. He came forward in a quiet, father- 
 ly manner, saying : 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Moncrieffe, how are you to- 
 day?" and then, looking round and seeing the 
 servant was gone, he continued in a very dif- 
 ferent tone : " What is wrong ? You only send 
 for me when you want to make use of me. I 
 thought you could manage your husband your- 
 self; surely you have more influence over him 
 than I have?" 
 
 " I can generally make him do as I like ; but 
 he says now I sha'n't go ; and he talks in that posi > 
 tive way that he does when he means a thing. So 
 I want you to talk to him ; you can persuade him 
 I am ill, and want change." 
 
 " I do not see how that would attain your 
 object. You want to go to one particular spot, 
 and without your husband." 
 
 VOL. i. s
 
 258 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " Well, never mind what I want ; only do 
 you try and manage to get his consent to my 
 leaving town." There was silence for a moment. 
 Mr. Reeves stood looking into the fire, Cecily 
 watching him. Then she rose, and laying her 
 hand lightly on his arm, she said in a pleading 
 tone, "I thought I might depend on you for 
 this ; it is not much I am asking." 
 
 He took her hand and pressed his lips to it, 
 and then instantly let it drop. Mrs. Moncrieffe 
 hardly expected this, but she put it down as the 
 penalty she paid for gaining her object, for she 
 felt certain now Mr. Reeves could be made do as 
 she desired. She cared little how she tampered 
 with other people's feelings : her own were not 
 likely to suffer, so what did it signify ? 
 
 " I will do my best, Mrs. Moncrieffe, if you 
 fail yourself; but I do not like it; I do not like 
 the notion of your being with the Countess Lan- 
 gen for such a purpose, and neither her husband 
 nor your own to take care of you. Who is going 
 to be your escort V 
 
 " O, I don't know ; some friends of Maria's, I 
 suppose."
 
 TOUT POUR MOI, EIEN TOUK T01. 259 
 
 Mrs. Moncrieffe blushed as she replied. Mr. 
 Reeves noticed it. But that she had obtained a 
 certain influence over him which he had not the 
 power to shake off, that blush would have made 
 him wash his hands of the whole matter. In his 
 heart independently of a jealous feeling he could 
 not overcome he disapproved of the entire affair ; 
 but he was in her toils for the moment, and be- 
 came her tool. She knew that just as well as he 
 did ; but it was her policy not to allow him to see 
 she did. He walked up and down the room till 
 Cecily said in a playful tone, "What are you 
 thinking about, and looking so cross at ?" 
 
 " I am not cross ; I am merely thinking about 
 what perhaps you will say does not concern me 
 your intimacy with Madame Langen. I do not 
 like her, and regret your friendship with her." 
 
 " I cannot think what there is in poor Maria 
 that you all seem to dislike so much. There was 
 that wretched man Henry Marsden used to look 
 as if the ghost of his greatest enemy appeared 
 whenever he saw her; and if she was with me, 
 and he happened to hear it through the servants, 
 he would never come in, only leaving his card
 
 260 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 Then James says he doesn't like her; but I am 
 not surprised at that, for he has not the sense to 
 like any thing he ought to like. But I am as- 
 tonished at you : your taste is always so good, that 
 I fancied you would have admired her excessively. 
 She is very handsome." 
 
 " She may be. Nevertheless, I cannot admire 
 her. I wish, Mrs. Moncrieffe, you would give 
 this up ; or tell your husband." 
 
 " How can you be so foolish as to ask me ! If 
 I told James, I might give it up, for I know he 
 would not let me go; and I have made up my 
 mind to it, and am determined to have my own 
 way this time." 
 
 " When is it you do not get it? You make 
 every one do as you like, even against what they 
 feel to be right, as you are doing with me now." 
 
 There was no possibility of replying to this ; 
 for, as Mr. Reeves finished speaking, Mrs. Ewart 
 came in. 
 
 " Good gracious, Mum, how can you walk such 
 a day as this ? I am sure I could not breathe,' ' 
 was her niece's greeting. 
 
 "How do you know I did walk, Cis? How
 
 TOUT POUE MOI, EIEN POUK TOI. 261 
 
 do you do, Mr. Keeves ? I hope Cis is not ill, 
 that I see you here ?" 
 
 " Well, I am not well, if I am not ill," said 
 Cecily very crossly, being much put out at Mrs. 
 Ewart's appearance at a moment when she had 
 hardly finished talking with her doctor. 
 
 " It is the weather, Mrs. Moncrieffe," said Mr. 
 Reeves ; " and I think you sit too much in-doors." 
 
 " O, if you want me to go out and walk such 
 a day as this, I can't do it. It may be all very 
 well for Mum, and that she likes it ; but not 
 for me." 
 
 "No, I do not," he replied; "but I think as 
 a rule you should take more exercise. I will say 
 good-bye to you now, and will look in again in 
 the course of a few days. Good-bye, Mrs. Ew T art ; 
 you are not going abroad yet ?" 
 
 " Not immediately," she replied. The moment 
 he w r as gone she moved over to the chair he had 
 just left by her niece's side. "Cecily, you will 
 think I am always taking you to task," she said ; 
 " but I look on you very much in the light of an 
 orphan, with no one to point out to you when and 
 where you are wrong. Your mother, were she a
 
 262 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 woman likely to guide you, is absent. Yon are 
 young, pretty, and married to a foolish young man 
 whose affection for you seems to blind him to every, 
 thing else " 
 
 " What in the world is the matter now !" ex- 
 claimed her niece, interrupting her. Cecily was 
 crosser than ever by this time ; for her aunt had 
 driven Mr. Reeves away before any thing had 
 been definitely arranged, and now she recollected 
 fifty little things she had had to say to him, all of 
 which were of course unsaid. 
 
 " Why, the matter is, that I think you are 
 pursuing a path likely to lead to sorrow. You 
 know I have told you more than once, if you 
 don't do wrong, don't do wrong-like. Now you 
 are certainly doing the one or the other ; and un- 
 fortunately to do what bears the appearance of 
 wrong on the face of it, is next thing to actually 
 committing it ; for it will surely lead to it." 
 
 "I don't know what you mean, and I don't 
 understand you." 
 
 " Why is it I never come here but that I find 
 you sitting alone with some man? It is either 
 some of those miserable foreigners friends of
 
 TOUT POUR MOI, RIEN POUR TOI. 263 
 
 Madame Langen or else it is your doctor. Lat- 
 terly he has been here oftener than necessary, 
 surely, for you are not ill ; so why does he 
 come ?" 
 
 " To prevent my getting ill, I suppose. Pre- 
 vention is better than cure." 
 
 " Then, for God's sake, Cis, act up to that in 
 all things." 
 
 "Such nonsense, Mum! What harm can 
 there be in seeing a man when I like, who is 
 old enough to be my father?" 
 
 " Were he old enough to be your grandfather, 
 it would not prevent the world from drawing its 
 own conclusions ; and still less is it an excuse as 
 regards himself. A man never thinks himself too 
 old to fall in love ; and the younger the woman 
 the greater the danger." 
 
 "You seem to know a great deal about it, 
 Mum." 
 
 " I have lived long enough to do so," replied 
 Mrs. Ewart quietly, " and also to know that most 
 people find wrong pleasanter than right. The 
 commencement invariably is so ; but Cecily, the 
 end has to be thought of. Think what you are
 
 264 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 risking ; all that is dearest to a woman in life 
 your good name." 
 
 " I am sure I am doing no such thing." 
 
 "You are, Cecily. As a worm in fruit de- 
 stroys it imperceptibly, so are you unconsciously 
 perhaps destroying your whole future. And 
 what for? To gratify some foolish feeling of 
 vanity, and to appear on a par with your friend 
 the Countess Langen, whose whole employment 
 in life seems to be to attract men to her feet. 
 Cecily, in plain words, it is disreputable for a 
 married woman to go on so." 
 
 " I wish you would not abuse my friend." Ce- 
 cily coloured up with anger ; she really was fond 
 of her friend, as she called her. "I am sure she 
 looks the very picture of innocence and simpli- 
 city." 
 
 " Yes ; and that look is as necessary to an in- 
 triguing woman as the mask of religion is to a 
 priest. Cecily, will you promise me to give up 
 receiving your foreign friends, or your doctor I 
 own I somewhat mistrust his honest face, for an 
 honest man has honest purposes when you are 
 alone. When your husband is at home the whole
 
 TOUT POUK MOI, EIEN POUE TOI. 265 
 
 world, good or bad, might visit you, and not a 
 breath be raised against you ; but not otherwise, 
 as surely as I am sitting here." 
 
 " I don't care if there is ; I don't care a straw 
 for the world, or the world's opinion. If people 
 don't like to visit me, they may stay away ; I have 
 plenty of friends that, no matter what I do, will 
 only be too glad to come." 
 
 " Yes ; I am afraid to a certain extent you are 
 right. As long as you have a handsome house, 
 can give good dinners, and are living under your 
 husband's protection, you may do much with im- 
 punity. As long as society can shut their eyes 
 if any thing is to be gained by their doing so 
 they will ; but matters seldom continue very long 
 in that tottering state: an end comes; and once 
 fail in keeping a hold on your husband's heart, he 
 will turn from you. And then, Cecily, the world is 
 only too glad to turn round and trample on the 
 woman they have hitherto supported in her wrong." 
 
 " Well, Mum, do talk of something else ; I 
 hate this sort of thing." 
 
 " I suppose I may, Cis ; for all the good I am 
 likely to do, I might as well try to turn a lock
 
 266 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 without a key as turn you from any line of con- 
 duct you choose to adopt. However, to turn the 
 subject, which is easy, I heard from Dacia yes- 
 terday ; your mother is not well." 
 
 " She never is. What is the matter with her?" 
 
 " Well, Dacia does not say ; but the want of 
 an English doctor is a source of worry to her, and 
 she won't have the French one ; for she says he is 
 sure to kill her altogether. The poor child writes in 
 bad spirits, and is anxious for me to go over there." 
 
 " Why, you are not a doctor ; what good can 
 you do?" 
 
 " Help Dacia nurse, I suppose. It w r ould doubt- 
 less be some comfort to have some one with her." 
 
 " And are you going ?" 
 
 " I shall wait a little ; and if I hear, in answer 
 to the letter I wrote, that your mother is no better, 
 I think I shall go about the middle of next week." 
 
 "It's horrible weather for a sea voyage." 
 
 "Not pleasant, certainly; but one comfort, it 
 is not long." 
 
 "That just depends. You may be thirty-six 
 hours, if you go direct all the way from London 
 bridge."
 
 TOUT POUK MOI, RIEN POUR TOI. 267 
 
 " But then I have no intention of going direct 
 all the way from London bridge ; I shall go by 
 Dover and Calais." 
 
 " You know the last time Mrs. Percival came 
 over to England O, two years ago now she 
 went back that way, and was thirty-six hours. I 
 wonder she didn't die ; I am sure I should. She 
 could get nothing to take but horrible tea without 
 milk." 
 
 " Well, I should think she would never attempt 
 that way again. Dacia, by the bye, seems to like 
 the Percivals better than any one else in Dun- 
 kerque." 
 
 " Does she mention the Consul? I wrote and 
 asked her how they liked him ; but she replied, in 
 some vague way, that they saw so little of him she 
 could hardly judge." 
 
 " Some time back she wrote a great deal about 
 him, but not so lately ; and in this last letter she 
 does not mention any one at all : it is all about 
 your mother." 
 
 " How strange of Dacia not to have told you 
 what is the matter! She might have written to 
 me, I think."
 
 268 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " I daresay she will ; but, at all events, I will 
 let you know the moment I hear again." 
 
 When her aunt left, Mrs. Moncrieffe sat for 
 some time brooding over her imaginary troubles : 
 she was especially vexed at the tone of Mrs. E wart's 
 remonstrances. She felt she was right, and that 
 knowledge but increased her annoyance. As far 
 as Mr. Reeves was concerned, she did not care a 
 straw; but as to the world, she was not quite so 
 indifferent as she affirmed. She knew that, what- 
 ever her aunt thought, there was no occasion to 
 lecture her on his account ; and if her conscience 
 gave her a prick at all, it was touching Jules de 
 Monleon, whose soft speeches she certainly listened 
 to with some degree of pleasure. 
 
 There was very little actual harm in Cecily 
 Moncrieffe. She was too silly and frivolous, and 
 wanting in any great depth of feeling, to err very* 
 far; and had she not fallen into bad hands, she 
 would have passed through life without an episode 
 of any note. But she was impetuous and weak 
 either unfortunate qualities to possess, and espe- 
 cially if together. Another ill-starred fact con- 
 nected with her was her husband, weaker perhaps
 
 TOUT POUK MOI, RIEN POUR TOI. 269 
 
 than herself, yet loving her to folly, whilst she 
 cared no more for him or his opinions and wishes 
 than she would for a worm on the ground. She 
 treated him, indeed, very much in the way that 
 unpleasant - looking thing is treated by humane 
 people : she did not tread on him, but she quietly 
 walked 011 one side to get out of his way. 
 
 With all his love, however, he was injudi- 
 cious in his mode of acting towards her in the 
 extreme. He would indulge her in the most fool- 
 ish and frivolous fancies, that is, if it entailed his 
 being included in whatever it might be ; but if she 
 wanted any thing apart from him, he opposed it 
 with an obstinacy that helped far to drive one of 
 his wife's disposition to be guilty of enormities, 
 which, however, as he knew nothing of as yet, had 
 in no way caused him annoyance or vexation. He 
 would as soon have believed Cecily capable of 
 committing any real wrong as he would have ima- 
 gined it possible for himself to be untrue, even in 
 thought, to her. If she asked him for an opera- 
 box for the season, he managed to let her have it, 
 though by doing so he was compelled to forego 
 some personal amusement ; but if she asked him,
 
 270 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 as she had now done, to let her go and spend a 
 few days at Tunbridge Wells with the Countess 
 Langen, he refused directly, simply because, in 
 granting her the one request, it did not take her 
 from him ; in granting her the other, it would. 
 
 She was still moping when her husband came 
 in. 
 
 " Why, Cis, it's pitch dark in here ! What are 
 you about? are you sleeping? Why don't you 
 have candles ?" 
 
 " Because I don't want them." 
 
 " What's the matter with you?" 
 
 " I am very ill." 
 
 " 111, my darling ! What is it?" 
 
 " There don't touch me ; that won't make me 
 better," she said, as her husband went up to her 
 and laid his hand on her head. 
 
 " You're cross, Cis ; you're not ill." 
 
 " Well, you are enough to provoke any one 
 into being cross." 
 
 " Why, what have I done ? I am sure I never 
 wish to make you cross." 
 
 " Then why don't you let me go to Tunbridge 
 Wells?"
 
 TOUT POUR MOI, RIEN POUR TOI. 271 
 
 " O, is that old grievance coming up again? 
 What's the good of saying any more about it ?" 
 
 " Because 1 shall say on and on till you are 
 tired out." 
 
 " But, Cis, I don't like that Countess L/angen. 
 If you want to go out of town for a few days, I 
 will take you any where you like ; though I am 
 sure I can't conceive how you should wish to 
 leave home at such a time of year and in such 
 weather." 
 
 " I don't want to go with you ; I want to go 
 by myself; though I begin to think that, instead 
 of not liking Maria Langen, you are in love with 
 her, and so don't want me to be with her." 
 
 " Cecily, how can you talk to me in that 
 manner ?" 
 
 James Moncrieffe felt terribly hurt at his wife's 
 words ; he loved her too well not to be pained at 
 them. 
 
 Cecily made no reply, and after a minute her 
 husband said : 
 
 " You may go, Cecily, if you like, to any place 
 you choose, and alone ; but with regard to Madame 
 Langen, Henry Marsden told me quite enough
 
 272 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 little as it was to make me feel convinced she is 
 no fit companion for my wife." 
 
 " O, Henry Marsden and rubbish ! Then I 
 may go? Thank you, James. You are a dear 
 good fellow !" 
 
 And she put up her pretty face for her husband 
 to kiss, in token of thanks for his concession. He 
 accepted the invitation readily, and, pushing her 
 hair off her forehead, looked into her face as well 
 as the dim light of the fire admitted of, and 
 said: 
 
 "You generally make me do as you choose, 
 Cis ; but I should have been happier if you had 
 not made such a request. I should have enjoyed 
 being with you, even with all the discomfort of an 
 hotel to put up with, instead of all the comforts we 
 have at home." 
 
 *' Well but, James, you will be so glad to have 
 me back again, that the pleasure of seeing me 
 after being away will be ten times more than the 
 dulness you will feel during my absence. Besides, 
 you can dine at your club every day ; and you know 
 you like that." 
 
 " You know I like no such thing. The only
 
 TOUT POUR MOI, RIEN POUR TOI. 273 
 
 time I ever pretend to like it is when you as you 
 have clone lately go and dine with Madame Lan- 
 gen, and leave me either to dine at my club, or 
 dine at home alone, which I certainly so hate, that 
 a coffee-house dinner, or none at all, would be pre- 
 ferable." 
 
 " Well, I won't dine out once before I go ; and 
 I won't go till next week ; and I will only stay a 
 week away." 
 
 "No thanks to you that you won't dine out 
 before that, as there is no one in .town just now 
 that would dream of asking you without me." 
 
 "Now, James, I never say any thing or do 
 any thing to try and please you, but what you see 
 some fault in it. If I chose, I could dine out in 
 fifty places without you." 
 
 " Well, never mind that ; that has nothing to 
 do with your wishing to go away without me ; and 
 really " 
 
 " Well, James, you have promised me I shall 
 go ; so there's an end of it. I am sure it must be 
 time to dress for dinner." 
 
 And Mrs. Moncrieffe, fearing a withdrawal of 
 the permission she had extracted with Avhat she 
 
 VOL. i. T
 
 274 DACIA SINGLETCCN. 
 
 considered so much difficulty, went up to her room 
 in the best humour and best spirits possible, hum- 
 ming the air of "Rien pour moi, tout pour toi." 
 Her husband, who knew the song well, thought it 
 would be more applicable to himself if she reversed 
 it ; and I don't think he was far wrong.
 
 CHAPTEK XVII. 
 
 CHATTERING CHORLEY/S CHATTERINGS. 
 
 MRS. SINGLETON was really very far from well. 
 She had gone one day as far as the restaurant on 
 the pier, to have a friture luncheon. It was one 
 of the fashionable resorts of Dunkerque, and par- 
 ties of ten or twelve were formed to go there, and 
 eat all kinds of fish dressed in all kinds of ways ; 
 a mild very mild kind of Greenwich feast. And 
 here Mrs. Singleton caught a violent cold. The 
 season was not a fit one for such expeditions ; but 
 season rarely influenced them. Mrs. Singleton 
 was a bad subject for a cold not that one often 
 meets with a good one but she was especially 
 suffering when so attacked ; and then, of course, 
 she instantly wanted a doctor. 
 
 It was a perfect marvel to Dacia how she had 
 gone on so many months without calling in a 
 medical man; but the dreaded idea of being in
 
 276 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 the hands of a French doctor, and moreover one 
 that, till he came to practise in Dunkerque, had 
 never had other patients but such as he found 
 in the camp or the hospital, had up to this pre- 
 vented her calling in his assistance. She had, 
 however, till now never required it, as, beyond her 
 usual ailments, she had had nothing the matter 
 with her; indeed her health had been far better 
 than for many years past. 
 
 For several days there appeared no other symp- 
 toms than those of an ordinary cold in the head ; 
 but now she was feverish, and complained of pains 
 in her head and a difficulty in swallowing. She 
 was. in bed, restless and sleepless ; Dacia was all 
 patience and gentleness, for she saw this time that, 
 whatever amount of fancy there might be, there 
 was enough reality to excuse any irritability of 
 temper. She was sitting by her mother's bedside, 
 and Maxwell standing by the window which 
 looked into a narrow courtyard pinching up the 
 border of a pretty-looking cap trimmed with lace 
 and violet ribbon, which, when ready, was to deco- 
 rate her mistress' head. 
 
 "Mamma, do let me send for Monsieur Le-
 
 CHATTERING CHORLEY's CHATTERINGS. 277 
 
 fevre ; I am sure he will give you something that 
 will relieve that tightness on your chest." 
 
 " How can a man, who never did any thing 
 but bind up wounds, or cut off men's legs and 
 arms, know what is n't for a woman who is ill? 
 I wonder, Dacia, you have not more sense than 
 to propose such a thing !" 
 
 "But, mamma, surely soldiers sometimes are 
 ill, independently of wounds ; and I should think 
 colds would be a very common ailment amongst 
 them, when you remember how exposed they are." 
 
 "Just the reason that if they had them no 
 
 attention would be paid them. No ; I must bear 
 
 my sufferings, and take my chance about getting 
 
 well ; which it is more than probable I shall never 
 
 .do." 
 
 " Do not talk like that, mamma ; what is there 
 to prevent your getting well ? Only, if you 
 Avould but consent to see the doctor, you would 
 get well as quickly again." 
 
 " Give me a little of that lemonade, Dacia, and 
 don't talk to me again of the French doctor." 
 
 Dacia, from amidst a quantity of bottles and 
 boxes of jujubes and other lozenges, took the glass
 
 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 containing the lemonade and gave it her mother. 
 She drank it all with the greedy thirstiness of 
 fever. 
 
 " I must have some more made," she said. 
 
 Miss Singleton left the room to tell Babette 
 she must fetch some lemons at once, and let her 
 know when they were there. Hearing voices 
 within, she paused at the kitchen-door. She fan- 
 cied some of the market-people were there with 
 their goods. She distinguished Babette's voice 
 saying : 
 
 " Allez-vous en! allez-vous en! Si Madame 
 saclie que vous etes id, elle me ficliera a la porte. 
 Je nose pas vous voir id." 
 
 There was a murmured reply, but Dacia did 
 not wait longer. Thinking some tiresome importu- 
 nate person was with Babette, she returned to her 
 mother's room to desire Maxwell to give the ne- 
 cessary order. But Maxwell was in the midst of 
 adorning Mrs. Singleton and arranging her bed- 
 toilette; it was ten minutes at least before this 
 was completed ; and then, no sooner was that over 
 than she required her maid to air a pocket-hand- 
 kerchief, and then to tuck up a sleeve that would
 
 CHATTERING CHOELEY's CfEATTERESTGS. 279 
 
 come inconveniently long over her hand; so at 
 last Dacia thought it would be wiser to go herself 
 once more, and probably by that time whoever 
 was there would be gone. She was right; no 
 one was there but Babette but Babette in tears. 
 
 "Who was here just now, Babette? What, 
 you are crying ! What is the matter?" 
 
 " O, mademoiselle, did you see who was here ? 
 Indeed, indeed, I could not help it," said the girl 
 in great distress. 
 
 " I did not see any one, Babette ; I only heard 
 you telling some one to go; and as I supposed 
 some of the market-people were with you, I did 
 not come in." 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, so it was !" Babette was 
 gaining courage. 
 
 " But, then, why are you crying ?" 
 
 " I don't know, mademoiselle, we all cry 
 sometimes, don't we?" 
 
 " Not without a cause." 
 
 "Ah, mademoiselle, who is there that has not 
 a cause? unless it is yourself, who are as good 
 as you are beautiful, and all the world loving 
 you!"
 
 280 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 " I don't know much about that, Babette ; I 
 am not at all sure that that would be a talisman 
 against sorrow. However, if you won't tell me 
 what is grieving you, I can't help it ; only if there 
 is any thing I can do for you, if you are in trouble, 
 1 will." 
 
 For a moment it crossed poor Babette's dis- 
 tressed mind that it would be a great relief to 
 confide her sorrows to her young mistress; but 
 the recollection of what might what must be 
 the consequences, flashed across her in time to 
 keep her silent. She shook her head, and said 
 she had nothing to tell. Miss Singleton then 
 having given her the orders about the lemons, re- 
 turned to her mother's room. 
 
 It was dull work for Dacia, sitting with the 
 exception of short intervals all day long in her 
 mother's room, with the blinds drawn down to 
 moderate the light, and listening to her constant 
 fault-finding and lamentations. Still she did not 
 complain, though she hailed any little break in 
 the monotony of her life with pleasure. A fort- 
 night had passed in this way, and Mrs. Singleton 
 was, of necessity, getting daily weaker; for she
 
 CHATTERING CHORLEY'S CHATTERINGS. 281 
 
 could not be under the influence of low fever 
 without its visibly telling on her; and so Dacia, 
 failing to persuade her mother to call in the doc- 
 tor, had as she always had done from her child- 
 hood when in any dilemma fallen back on her 
 aunt. Mrs. Ewart's reply had now just arrived, 
 and was brought in by Babette. 
 
 "It's from Mum," exclaimed Dacia joyfully. 
 " How good of her to write to me so quickly !" 
 
 " I see nothing good in it," said her mother ; 
 "it is the least she could do, if you told her how 
 ill I am. Is there only one letter none from 
 Cecily?" 
 
 " No, only one. But then Cis could not have 
 replied yet ; I daresay we shall hear from her 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, read your aunt's letter. What does 
 she say?" 
 
 Dacia read it. The cream of it was, if Mrs. 
 Singleton was not better, she would go over to 
 them in the course of a few days. Though in her 
 heart Mrs. Singleton had no real affection for her 
 sister-in-law, she was, nevertheless, fully alive to 
 her good qualities. The very fact of her never
 
 282 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 giving in to her in her weak fancies had gone 
 far to insure her esteem. But were that not so, 
 one is very apt, when ill and away from home, 
 with none but acquaintances to fall back on in 
 case of need, to set a higher value on those that 
 are not only relations, but that take a heartfelt 
 interest in all concerning us. This Mrs. Singleton 
 knew Mrs. Ewart did ; thus she desired Dacia to 
 write immediately, and beg her aunt to come as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 Dacia, who did not see through or understand 
 the feelings that prompted her mother to grasp at 
 the hand held out to her, and which, though 
 Mrs. Ewart had many a time and oft been equally 
 prompt in offering, had invariably been rejected, 
 or if accepted, it was merely done to please her 
 daughter, felt more uneasiness as to her mother's 
 state than she had done before ; and consequently 
 the tone of her letter to her aunt bore the im- 
 press of anxiety, and left the idea in Mrs. Ewart's 
 mind that Mrs. Singleton was more seriously ill 
 than was actually the case. 
 
 Miss Singleton was writing in the drawing- 
 room, when Mr. Way was announced. She re-
 
 CHATTERING. CHORLEY'S CHATTERINGS. 283 
 
 ceived him, as she always did, with a chilling 
 politeness. 
 
 " I called, Miss Singleton, because I heard 
 your mamma was very ill ; and you know, in my 
 capacity as clergyman here, it is my duty to offer 
 my services to the sick, if they are disposed to 
 receive them. Do you think Mrs. Singleton would 
 like to see me?" 
 
 " I do not think she would ; but I am sure 
 she would desire me to thank you for your offer. 
 My mother has not yet seen a medical man ; so 
 that I hardly think she is in a state necessary to 
 seek a clergyman's aid." 
 
 " But, Miss Singleton, however full of health 
 the body may be, the soul may be ill, and need 
 tending." 
 
 Such words from the lips of such a man made 
 Dacia sick. She longed to tell him to take the 
 beam out of his own eye before he talked of 
 other people's motes. 
 
 " Perhaps so. I never judge on such points 
 for others." 
 
 How she wished the big brute would go! 
 However, Miss Chorley appeared : that was better
 
 284 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 than being longer left tete-a-tete with him. Dacia 
 never welcomed Chattering Chorley before as she 
 did now. 
 
 " And how is poor dear Mrs. Singleton ?" said 
 ]\liss Chorley, smiling. 
 
 " There is no improvement ; and I hardly see 
 how there can be, as long as she persists in re- 
 fusing to have the only advice that she can get." 
 
 " And really Lefevre is very clever very cle- 
 ver indeed," replied Miss Chorley. 
 
 Well, for my part," said Mr. Way, " I think 
 Mrs. Singleton is right. How can a Frenchman 
 understand an English constitution ! I would not 
 trust myself in his hands." 
 
 "Ah! but, Mr. Way, you know you have a 
 personal dislike to him ; and I suppose you think 
 he might not take proper care of you. You see, 
 I know all your secrets !" said Miss Chorley, per- 
 fectly radiant. 
 
 Her smile was apparently too much for the 
 big man to bear ; for he got up, saying to Dacia, 
 without taking any notice of Miss Chorley's re- 
 mark, " If I can be of no use, Miss Single- 
 ton, I will wish you good morning. I ana afraid
 
 CHATTERING CHOELEY'S CHATTERINGS. 285 
 
 Mrs. Singleton will be forced to send for me, if 
 she does not send for a doctor; though, as I 
 said before, I don't recommend Lefevre he's 
 an ass; but there's a very clever fellow, a Ger- 
 man, and their constitutions are more like ours, 
 living at Cassel. His name is Friedleben. A 
 lovely spot, by the way, Cassel. Have you ever 
 been there, Miss Singleton?" 
 
 " No, never." 
 
 "Ah, well, you must go. Miss Chorley can 
 tell you all about it. She knows all about every- 
 thing don't you, Miss Chorley ? Good-bye, good- 
 bye." And his body swayed to and fro as he 
 walked out of the room, looking more like a prize- 
 fighter than a clergyman. 
 
 " Yes, I should think I could tell you about 
 Cassel; and even more than Mr. Way fancies, 
 or would like either," said Miss Chorley with a 
 knowing look. 
 
 "Why does Mi*. Way so dislike Monsieur 
 Lefevre f 
 
 " O, my dear, it's a shocking story. Of course 
 I don't know if it is really true; but every one 
 believes it is. They say, you know, that there
 
 286 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 was a poor girl one of the lace-makers of Cassel 
 who used to come over here to sell her lace, 
 which they make there, you know, exactly like 
 Valencienne, only I think it is better and she 
 but I don't think it is a fit story to tell you. 
 You see, you are very young, and I daresay you 
 don't know much of the wickedness that goes on 
 in the world ; and yet there's plenty of it, dear." 
 
 Miss Chorley smiled, as if the thought was a 
 cheery one. 
 
 "But I don't see what that has to do with 
 the doctor." 
 
 u Why, they say the parson went to the doctor 
 about this girl, and that Lefevre turned him out 
 of the house ; and he teUs every one le ministre 
 anglais is a faquin, a coquin, and that he would 
 not attend him if he offered him a napoleon a 
 visit!" 
 
 "Well, then, it is not so difficult to under- 
 stand why he says he would not send for him if 
 he required a doctor," said Dacia. 
 
 "But I came to tell you some news," said 
 Miss Chorley, bobbing up on her chair, and 
 making herself more comfortable. " What do
 
 CHATTERING CHORLEY's CHATTERINGS. 287 
 
 you think? the day for the ball is fixed at 
 last!" 
 
 "Is it?" said Dacia, her great blue eyes 
 sparkling with pleasure, and a slight flush mount- 
 ing to her cheeks. 
 
 " Yes ; and when do you think it is to be ? 
 Very soon ; and it need be, after the way it has 
 constantly been put off. The last day of the 
 year ! Won't that be charming, to dance the old 
 year out and the new y ear in ?" 
 
 " I don't much care for that," said Miss Sin- 
 gleton ; " to dance out any day and dance in a 
 new one would be equally pleasant. It is the 
 dancing I like." 
 
 " I suppose you have been to loads and loads 
 of balls ? I know some friends of mine who live 
 in London go sometimes to two and three in one 
 night," 
 
 " O dear, no, I have not, I never lived in 
 London, and I have only been to two in the 
 country. Two country balls; and there was a 
 year's interval between them. Last year, when 
 it took place, poor papa was very ill, and of 
 course we did not go. Perhaps, if I had been to
 
 288 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 a great many, I should not care so much about 
 them." 
 
 " It is to be at the Hotel de Ville, and a com- 
 mittee has been formed to settle all about it. 
 Ladies are all to receive invitations, and the gen- 
 tlemen subscribe to pay all the expenses, except- 
 ing the Consul, because you know it is given for 
 him. It is very nice for us, dear, isn't it ? it will 
 cost us nothing ! And all the invitations are to be 
 printed on embossed paper, and it's to be the love- 
 liest thing altogether that ever was. I am only 
 sorry it is not in honour of Mr. Ivor Campbell, 
 instead of that demure gloomy Mr. Mostyn." 
 
 " But who in the world is Mr. Ivor Campbell ; 
 for no one seems to know any thing about him ?" 
 
 u Well, he is a great friend of Mrs. Merivale's 
 son, and she says, such a delightful, charming, gay 
 young man, who would have kept us in a constant 
 round of amusement, always proposing something 
 new to make one's life pass happily. But I have 
 always heard those people at the Foreign Office 
 consult their advantage at the expense of other 
 people's likings. They must be a horrid selfish 
 set ! Why, this place is quite dismal enough
 
 CHATTERING CHOHLEY's CHATTERINGS. 289 
 
 without their sending us a man whose face is 
 enough to give one a fit of the blues even to 
 look at." 
 
 "He does look sad at times," said Dacia, re- 
 membering how differently he could look. 
 
 "At times! My dear, he always looks the 
 same. I don't think he could smile if he tried. 
 You know there are all sorts of stories about him. 
 I have heard no end." 
 
 " Have you what have you heard f 
 
 Usually Dacia was not given to encourage 
 Chattering Chorley in her chatterings ; but pos- 
 sibly, after the dull life she had been leading 
 lately, she was glad to hear any gossip chance 
 threw in her way. 
 
 " Well, some say he was attached to an Italian 
 lady, the wife of one of the ambassadors at Tu- 
 rin, and because she was married, he broke his 
 heart." 
 
 Dacia laughed. The story was too absurd. 
 " I do not think that can be true," she said ; " Mr. 
 Mostyn seems a sensible man, and that would be 
 more like a madman's act." 
 
 "Very often those sensible-looking men are 
 
 VOL. r. u
 
 290 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 terrible fools about women ; besides, in these days, 
 fashion is very peculiar about married women 
 they manage to change their husbands when it 
 suits them ; that is in England, you know. Hero, 
 once you are married, it is for ever." 
 
 " I thought it was the same in England ; you 
 must be making some mistake, Miss Chorley !" said 
 Dacia, utterly at a loss to understand what Miss 
 Chorley meant, and a picture of Cecily instantly 
 taking advantage of the new fashion presenting 
 itself to her mind. 
 
 "No, my dear, no mistake ; it is true enough. 
 Well, then, another story is, that it was an Eng- 
 lish girl, and she jilted him, and ran away with a 
 Dane or a Swede ; at all events, a man who be- 
 longed to one of those embassies." 
 
 " That sounds more likely. Poor fellow ! It 
 must any way have been a great sorrow to have 
 left the stamp on his face that it has." 
 
 " Well, I think if that is the true story, he is 
 very silly, for he ought to be excessively glad to 
 have escaped marrying such a girl ; she never 
 would have made him happy. But I am afraid I 
 am keeping you from your mamma. I do not like
 
 CHATTERING OHORLEY's CHATTERINGS. 291 
 
 to ask to see her, as perhaps she would not care 
 to see me." 
 
 " I hardly think she is well enough," said Dacia, 
 who always could invent a kindly excuse when 
 necessary, though this time it was the simple 
 truth. 
 
 " Will you give my love to her, and tell her 
 how sorry I am she continues so poorly ; and will 
 you give her these from me ?" And good-natured 
 Chorley drew out a couple of fine Maltese oranges. 
 " Minnie Watson brought them to me, and I 
 thought they would be so nice for your mamma." 
 " How kind of you to think of bringing them ! 
 I am sure mamma will enjoy them, for she drinks 
 such a quantity of lemonade ; and she has once or 
 twice asked for oranges, but as yet I have found 
 none that were not too sour." 
 
 " Good-bye, dear, good-bye ; I will come again 
 soon, if you will let me, and tell you all that is 
 going on about the ball, though you will hear of 
 it from the Percivals. I do wish your mamma 
 would see Lefevre." 
 
 And off the little woman trotted. Then Dacia 
 went with the oranges to her mother's room. Mrs.
 
 292 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 Singleton was asleep, so Dacia placed them on the 
 table by her bed-side, and in an under-tone told 
 Maxwell, who was always there when she was 
 absent, that it looked so fine and bright, she 
 thought she would take the opportunity whilst 
 her mother was asleep of going for a walk." 
 
 " I am sure, miss, it is very improper for you 
 to be walking about by yourself in the way you 
 do. I wonder what the people at Christchurch 
 would think if they knew Miss Singleton was 
 brought to that !" 
 
 " Why, Maxwell, what nonsense you talk ! I 
 always went out alone at Christchurch." 
 
 "Yes, miss, in the village, but not in the 
 town." 
 
 "But here every one walks alone. I have 
 often met Miss Thomas and Miss Watson and 
 Mdlle. Hervieu by themselves." 
 
 " O, it may be very well for that Tot, but not 
 for my mistress' daughter." 
 
 "Any way, I will go now. I shall enjoy a 
 walk. I will go to the end of the pier and back." 
 
 " What, at this hour, and in that racketting 
 omnibus ? That's a pretty sort of carnage to see
 
 CHATTERING CHOKLEY's CHATTERINGS. 293 
 
 you in! O dear, O dear, that we ever came 
 to this place ! Here's what has come of it ; my 
 mistress ill and really ill too and you driving 
 about in omnibuses and walking about the town 
 by yourself !" 
 
 " Well, Maxwell, my aunt will be here, I hope, 
 next week," replied Dacia. " I suppose you will 
 be very glad to see her." 
 
 " Indeed I shall, miss ; more glad than I have 
 ever been yet." 
 
 Miss Singleton, however, had no intention of 
 going down to the pier in the omnibus. She 
 thought the exercise of walking would do her 
 much more good; and so wrapping herself well 
 up, she started off at a brisk pace. As she passed 
 by the end of the Rue du Sud, she saw the British 
 arms over the Consul's house, looking very bright, 
 having lately been regilt. This brought her 
 thoughts back to Chattering Chorley's gossip about 
 Mr. Mostyn; and then a sudden thought flashed 
 across her was he the friend Henry Marsden had 
 spoken of as the one whom the Countess Langen 
 had injured ? If so, how strange, how singular it 
 seemed that Henry Marsden should take him to
 
 294 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 her sister's, where he might have met her ! Then 
 she wondered what Count Langen was like, that 
 he had succeeded in gaining her affections away 
 from one that she fancied must surely have been 
 worthy of any woman's love. What we like our- 
 selves, we think every one else must like also. 
 
 It was a long way to the end of the pier ; but 
 Dacia reached it, hardly conscious of having done 
 so, so buried in thought had she been ; and then, 
 when she found the end was reached, she looked 
 up there was a shadow between her and the 
 great broad open sea Sancho and his master 
 were standing before her.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 
 
 A PLEASED smile of recognition was visible on 
 both Dacia Singleton's and Hugh Mostyn's faces 
 as they met on this desolate spot. It was seldom, 
 indeed, that any one walked to the extreme end oi 
 the unusually long narrow pier at Dunkerque, 
 which jutted so far into the sea, that on turning 
 round and looking towards the town, which loomed 
 in the distance, one might fancy oneself far away 
 out at sea. 
 
 They shook hands now a VAnglalse; no per- 
 mission was asked ; it seemed quite natural to them 
 now, and was done as a matter of course whenever 
 they met. 
 
 "Who would have thought of seeing Miss 
 Singleton at such a spot and at such an hour 
 I might add, for it will soon be twilight; and 
 between twilight and darkness there is not much
 
 29G DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 time. Sancho saw you, a long way oft', and he 
 would have bounded off to greet you, had I not 
 held him back." 
 
 " Why did you ? Dear old Sancho !" and she 
 stooped down to caress the dog; his long nose 
 was resting against her knee, as if placed there 
 expecting to be petted. Presently she looked 
 round ; it appeared already as if there was a dim- 
 ness over the town. " I came here almost without 
 knowing it ; I certainly should not have come so 
 far, had I been thinking what I was about ; how- 
 ever, the best thing for me to do is to walk back as 
 quickly as I came." 
 
 "As we must walk the same way, you will 
 perhaps allow me to see you home ; therefore, if 
 you are inclined to gaze a few minutes longer 
 at this desolate prospect, you can indulge your- 
 self." 
 
 There was a touch of contempt in his tone 
 that made Miss Singleton look up. Did he feel 
 contempt for her, the sea, or what I Any way, 
 it did not please her ; and she replied with some- 
 what unnecessary haughtiness : 
 
 " I will not trouble you to see me home ; I can
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 297 
 
 return alone, thank you. I am going to remain 
 here a little longer." 
 
 And with a slight bend of her head and a 
 proud look in her beautiful face, she moved as far 
 as she could from where they were standing, and 
 sat down on the uncomfortable narrow ledge in- 
 tended for a seat. Sancho instantly jumped up, 
 and seated himself beside her; he evidently in- 
 tended being her defender, if permitted. He looked 
 very absurd, and could hardly sit steadily. 
 
 "No wonder that girl jilted him," she thought 
 in her anger, " if he made himself as disagreeable 
 to her as it clearly is in his power to be." Under 
 her momentary annoyance, she quite forgot her 
 previous ideas on the subject. 
 
 " I will let that proud girl find out she had 
 better have accepted my offer; she will be sorry 
 enough she did not when she reaches the harbour, 
 and has to pass through groups of sailors, tipsy or 
 insolent as the case may be." 
 
 So thought Hugh Mostyn, as he raised his 
 hat and walked slowly away, calling his dog after 
 him. But Sancho never moved ; he gave one 
 sharp bark, and remained bolt upright ; his master
 
 298 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 turned round ; he understood the dog perfectly, 
 but he had no more intention of giving in to him 
 than "to the young lady : he was about again to 
 call him, when he saw Dacia lay her cheek 
 against the dog's head, and then say, "Go off, 
 Sancho ; go, old dog !" and reluctantly and slowly 
 did he leap down and walk away with sedate steps 
 after Hugh. 
 
 They had not gone far when Mostyn ventured 
 to look round ; surely not with a notion that Miss 
 Singleton had repented of her decision ; for if so, 
 he knew very little about her disposition ; however, 
 if he did, he was quickly disabused of the idea; 
 for she was standing up, her elbow resting on the 
 top of a wooden post, and her cheek resting 
 against her hand. The great, red, setting sun 
 cast a glow over her, giving an auburn tinge to 
 her beautiful golden -coloured hair, which the 
 wind, now somewhat rough, had blown away from 
 her face. 
 
 Hugh Mostyn, if a stern, hard man, was a 
 man, and he could not look at that tall, graceful 
 girl and remain uninfluenced by her beauty. He 
 reproached himself for what he now chose to con-
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 299 
 
 sider the micourteous tone he had spoken to her 
 in, and was more than half-resolved, and wholly 
 inclined, to go back to her and make peace. 
 
 " You were right, Sancho, I ought not to have 
 left her; but having done so, I won't go back ; she 
 shall not have the pleasure of feeling she has 
 gained a victory over me ; she should have ac- 
 cepted my offer when I made it." 
 
 But he determined, nevertheless, to linger about 
 the harbour, and watch her unseen safely to her 
 home. 
 
 It is marvellous what effect beauty will have 
 on a man's manner. An act that he would think 
 (jiiite commonplace, and nothing about, towards 
 a plain person, he will persuade himself is one 
 wanting in courtesy to a woman that is handsome. 
 Beauty decidedly insures civility. There is no 
 gift in nature so valuable to a woman as good 
 looks. It renders her life as happy again as it 
 would otherwise be. She is sought after, she is 
 petted and caressed, she is feted; she is spared, 
 generally, all jealous feelings ; go where she will 
 she is welcome, for if she can do nothing else she 
 can adorn every place she is in. A beautiful
 
 300 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 woman is a pleasant sight even to her own sex ; 
 for though they somehow never care to acknow- 
 ledge beauty in one another, yet they love to see 
 it none the less ; and if it happens to belong to one 
 not in their own sphere, they can pay tribute to 
 it as well as they can to a painting or statue, that 
 in no way deteriorates from, or interferes with, 
 their own charms. 
 
 Dacia's resolution to show her independence 
 led her into committing a great act of folly. 
 She remained where she was till the sun had 
 set. She watched it sinking lower and lower, 
 till it appeared to pass into the sea, and was 
 hidden entirely. Then the wind blew higher and 
 bleakly, with winter sharpness; and bitterly cold 
 as she began to feel, and longing to move that 
 she might gain some warmth, she thought Hugh 
 Mostyn could barely be home; and to insure no 
 further meeting, she wished to give him time to 
 reach his own house. However, her pride failed 
 to keep her from approaching freezing-point ; be- 
 sides, the night had drawn on much faster than 
 she imagined. It looked much lighter out at sea ; 
 but now that she turned her face towards the land,
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 301 
 
 she saw it would be quite dark before she could 
 reach home ; and there were black clouds gathered 
 over the town foretelling a storm. 
 
 She walked on veiy rapidly, her heart beating 
 from nervousness. It was not that she saw any 
 one, but that she feared seeing some one. What 
 should she do, in that lone far-away place, if she 
 met any one of the hundreds that she knew were 
 to be found in every town, who might rob her, or, 
 worse still, insult her ? As long, however, as she 
 saw nothing, and heard nothing but the roar ol 
 the sea, which every moment seemed to become 
 louder and more furious, she walked on thankful 
 enough. 
 
 She had passed the restaurant, and was now 
 on the carriage-road. There was still nearly a 
 quarter of a mile of the wooden-paved way to go 
 before she came to the first drawbridge, and she 
 kept looking anxiously right and left, as she went 
 quickly on, in the dread of seeing some one lurk- 
 ing about. How she wished now for the rejected 
 protection of Hugh Mostyn ! though the chances 
 are, had he at that moment appeared, the sight 
 of him would have engendered sufficient courage
 
 302 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 to make her again refuse. She crossed the draw- 
 bridge at last, and went on more bravely for a few 
 moments, when she came to the second one, on 
 the other side of which is the covered road or 
 archway leading at once to the harbour. Look- 
 ing through that dark passage, her courage failed 
 her. She paused a moment, and hearing men's 
 voices within it, talking in loud quarrelsome tones, 
 she turned back, running as fast as fear enabled 
 her to do, till she recrossed the first bridge, and 
 found herself once more in a direct line for the 
 pier. 
 
 She now stood still a moment to consider what 
 she should do. Daylight was gone, and twilight 
 would not hold cut very much longer. There was 
 no use now in regretting what she had done. She 
 saw the folly of it, and yet even at that moment 
 it seemed as if the folly had consisted only in her 
 having gone alone at all to such a distance, not 
 her having refused Mr. Mostyrvs company home. 
 She was certain she was quite right in having done 
 that. Unknown to herself, her greatest vexation 
 arose through his accepting her refusal. She now 
 thought whether it would not be advisable to wait
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 303 
 
 patiently till the man came who lighted the lamps 
 on the bridge, and then ask him to see her safely 
 past the harbour. Then she recollected how un- 
 easy her mother would be ; how uneasy, no doubt, 
 she was already. When out alone on previous 
 occasions, her absence had never exceeded an 
 hour, and now fully two had elapsed, if not more, 
 since she left home. 
 
 Suddenly she remembered a way she could 
 get home by going over the sands, across the 
 Dunes, and so skirting the town and entering it 
 by the opposite end. She did not give herself 
 a moment to think of the difficulties she might 
 have to encounter; so as she encountered no 
 human ones, of which she certainly ran very 
 little risk at that hour, she did not care ; therefore 
 the instant she recollected the road, she went on 
 her way till she came to some steps, which, with 
 a little difficulty, she descended, and then she 
 found herself on the hard firm sand. She walked 
 on briskly now, feeling safe, and beginning almost 
 to enjoy her solitude. 
 
 But this was not to last long. In a few 
 minutes she had to turn to the right, and in this
 
 304 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 manner faced the wind, which blew the loose sand 
 down from the Dunes, and beat it sharply against 
 her face. She put up her parasol to shelter her- 
 self from it a little, and it sounded like a shower 
 of fine rain rattling against it ; but it was a wild 
 night, and even that protection she had to deny 
 herself; the wind was too strong to admit of her 
 holding it up for more than a few seconds. She 
 now had to leave the beach sand, and she soon 
 began to feel the difference. The other, where 
 the sea never reached, was soft and loose, and her 
 feet sank in it at every step ; besides, she had now 
 to ascend the Dunes, those sandhills that border 
 this part of the French coast, which, together with 
 the yielding ground and the patches of hard stiff 
 rush-grass that grew about in tufts, proved any 
 thing but an easy or pleasant walk. 
 
 She mastered the difficulty, however, after a 
 little ; and right glad was she to find herself at 
 the top of the ascent. It was up and down work 
 for a long distance, but all comparatively easy to 
 what she had just accomplished. She was very 
 tired and very weary, and but for the lateness 
 would have rested, for she had no fear now. It
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 305 
 
 was not solitude she feared. The sea was no 
 longer an all-absorbing sound ; she was gradually 
 leaving the echo of its wild roar in the distance. 
 From the undulation of the sandhills she was no 
 longer so exposed to the cold blast of the wind; 
 but it looked terribly wild and desolate. Dacia, 
 without feeling fear, yet heartily wished herself at 
 home. She thought of what Maxwell had said to 
 her on coming out ; she smiled as she thought what 
 she would say if she could see her in that desert 
 waste. 
 
 At that moment something seemed to rise up 
 before her a large dark mass. It was too far off 
 for her at the first glance to distinguish what it 
 was. A feeling of awe hardly as yet to be called 
 fright crept over her. She involuntarily stood 
 still. What was it, or who was it, in that wild 
 weird spot at such an hour ? It bore the form of 
 a man that Dacia soon discovered ; but whether 
 a living one or the spirit of a dead one, she may 
 be forgiven at such a moment for questioning. I 
 doubt if she would have felt half the terror she 
 did feel when she not only discovered that it was 
 flesh and blood, but also who it was, as she would 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 have done had it passed away from her into 
 space. 
 
 "Ah, who have we here? The spirit of the 
 winds in the form of a woman !" 
 
 The words were spoken in bad and ill -pro- 
 nounced French, and the speaker then attempted 
 to take Miss Singleton's hand ; but she drew back 
 suddenly, and exclaimed, 
 
 " Mr. Way, you cannot have recognised me ; I 
 am Miss Singleton." 
 
 " By George, so it is ! Miss Singleton ! Here's 
 a piece of luck. I can pay that proud disdainful 
 girl off now." He muttered these words to him- 
 self; and then, in a louder tone, he said to her, 
 " Well, no, I didn't recognise you. I could hardly 
 have expected to meet Miss Singleton in this place 
 and at this hour." 
 
 " As little, no doubt, as I expected to meet Mr. 
 \Vav, or most decidedly I should not have come. 
 Allow me to pass. Good evening." 
 
 " No, no ; not so fast, young lady. As your 
 spiritual guide, I cannot permit you to go without 
 first ascertaining your reasons for being here. 
 This is not a spot nor an hour that a young
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 307 
 
 lady with charms like yours chooses for a pro- 
 menade, unless there is some cause to induce her." 
 
 Dacia drew her tall slight girlish figure up to 
 its full height, and, notwithstanding the darkness, 
 there was light enough for Mr. Way to notice the 
 look of anger and indignation that flashed from 
 her usually soft eyes. 
 
 " How dare you insult me in this manner ! 
 Let me pass immediately !" 
 
 But for Miss Singleton to pass the parson, 
 unless the parson chose to let her, was as impos- 
 sible as for an Italian greyhound successfully to 
 compete with a mastiff. Mr. Way laid his large 
 hand upon Dacia's arm and said : " I have you 
 here, and I won't let you go till you tell me what 
 brought you this way." 
 
 The poor girl shrunk from the touch of that 
 hand as she would from the plague. She was 
 beginning to be afraid. She felt all the strong 
 antipathy she had entertained for Mr. Way from 
 the first moment she ever saw him come upon her 
 with double intensity ; and to get away from him, 
 she complied with his request. She told him of 
 her having lingered at the pier-end till late, and
 
 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 then her fear of passing the archway. She told 
 him all ; but carefully avoided Mostyn's name. 
 His only reply was a loud, rough, derisive 
 
 * 
 
 laugh a laugh that made poor Dacia tremble 
 from head to foot but that laugh saved her. 
 She little thought at the moment what she would 
 have to owe to it ; she never knew what evil she 
 may have escaped in consequence. 
 
 "Let me go, Mr. Way! my mother will be 
 uneasy at my long absence." 
 
 She spoke less commandingly now ; she was 
 willing to ask in a more gentle tone, if she could 
 succeed thereby in her object. 
 
 "And do you think I believe that cock-and- 
 bull story of yours ? Ha, ha, ha ! You must take 
 me for a precious greenhorn. But I don't want 
 to spoil your sport, my pretty one ; so if you will 
 give me a kiss, I will let you go." 
 
 As he spoke he made an attempt to put his 
 arm round her, but Dacia bounded on one side 
 before he had touched her, and gave a short, 
 sharp, piercing scream. Mr. Way was again close 
 by her, and was again about to attempt to draw 
 her towards him, when she saw the figure of
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 309 
 
 another man appear, and in a second Mr. Way 
 hurled, by a well-directed blow, to some paces 
 off; then she felt a singing in her ears, and re- 
 membered no more till she found herself in a 
 small hut, belonging to one of the coast-guards- 
 men, then out on duty, with Mostyn standing over 
 her, and Sancho's cold nose resting on her hand. 
 
 It was strange to notice the contrast of their 
 two faces we might say the three. Hugh looked 
 cold, proud, stern, and unrelenting. . Dacia, with 
 all pride and all fear gone, raised her eyes to her 
 preserver with a grateful yet pleading expression. 
 The dog had a common-sense look about him, that 
 for the moment was certainly wanting in the other 
 two. He seemed perfectly satisfied, and doubtless 
 felt the truth of the saying that all is well that 
 ends well. Gratitude was Dacia's first sensation 
 on her return to consciousness. She felt no sur- 
 prise in seeing Mostyn beside her; she knew it 
 was his hand saved her; but she did feel sur- 
 prised at seeing the place she was in. The only 
 light in the hut was from a wood fire, which 
 Mostyn had put together, and which gave out 
 enough light to see around that small place.
 
 oiO DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 "If you are sufficiently rested, Miss Singleton, 
 it will be as well for you to return home." Hugh 
 spoke in a hard tone ; there was no sympathy in 
 it, and Dacia felt pained, but she knew not why. 
 
 " Where am I, and how did I come here T' 
 
 " You are in a small cottage or hut on the 
 Dunes. How you came there you best know, for I 
 found you within a few yards of this place." 
 
 He stood with his arms folded, and a look of 
 scorn on his. handsome face. Could he have 
 doubted Dacia? Hardly. Yet so disposed was 
 he to misjudge all women, that it had almost be- 
 come an impossibility with him not to impute to 
 them some evil motive for the apparently most 
 innocent actions. 
 
 Dacia w r as deeply hurt at his tone. It was 
 natural, she thought, that he should feel vexed at 
 her obstinacy in refusing his escort when first 
 proffered ; but she could not understand it causing 
 him to speak so coldly and harshly now. She felt 
 perplexed as to how he had found her ; and though 
 she was rather afraid of asking him, her curiosity 
 got the better of her fear, and she put the ques- 
 tion.
 
 CEOSSING THE DUNES. 311 
 
 " Another time will do to answer you, Miss 
 Singleton," was his only reply. 
 
 There was no moving that cold stern man. He 
 was the first being in life that had ever aroused a 
 feeling of fear in Dacia Singleton not the fear 
 arising from cowardice ; but she felt afraid of him 
 as one is sometimes apt to feel towards those we con- 
 sider in all respects our superiors. His timely aid 
 in the moment of danger had insured her ever- 
 lasting gratitude; and a feeling of regret passed 
 through her, as she looked up at him, and thought 
 that if he would but let her, she should so like to 
 pour forth to him her heartfelt thanks; but she 
 had not the courage. She felt certain he would 
 instantly silence her by some cold or perhaps 
 sarcastic retort. She pressed her hand wearily 
 over her forehead, and pushed her waving hair 
 as far off her brow as she could. 
 
 " You seem tired," he said, a little more 
 gently. 
 
 " I am tired," she replied, raising her great 
 blue eyes slowly ; but she dropped them suddenly, 
 for she felt that tears were filling them, and she 
 Avould not let him see her weakness. The long
 
 312 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 walk and the intense fright she had suffered had 
 been too much for her. " But I am ready to go. 
 You will go with me?" 
 
 He did not reply. Had he spoken his thoughts, 
 he would have said : " You only ask that for the 
 purpose of saying something. You know I must 
 go with you." 
 
 He, however, took up his hat from off a wooden 
 box on which it had been standing, and held it in 
 his hand till she chose to rise. When she did so, 
 it was with some difficulty ; she felt stiff from head 
 to foot. 
 
 Mostyn offered her no help, but when she was 
 ready, he opened the door. Sancho was the last to 
 go out; he seemed reluctant to move. As was 
 his habit when he objected to any thing, he sat on 
 his hind legs bolt upright, and with a determined 
 quiet look in his face, as much as to say, " I don't 
 approve of this proceeding." 
 
 It was pitch dark. The tide, which had risen 
 and was now full, was roaring like thunder ; the 
 wind blew with increased intensity, and terribly, 
 bitterly cold. It was a frightfully wild night, and 
 it was not without a fervent wish that he had his
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 313 
 
 charge safely under her mother's roof that Hugh 
 Mostyn started with Dacia over the sand-hills. 
 
 It was with difficulty poor Dacia kept herself 
 on her feet ; but notwithstanding her danger of 
 falling or slipping down a sand-bank, she could 
 not divest herself of the terror that took possession 
 of her the moment she left the hut that they might 
 again meet Mr. Way. It was a silly fear, but 
 none the less painful to endure. She said some- 
 thing about it to her companion, but he did not 
 hear her: it required speaking loud in such a 
 storm, if the speaker wished to be heard ; but 
 Dacia thought he did not choose to answer, so she 
 \vas silent again. 
 
 " It is a long walk, Miss Singleton, and I am 
 afraid you will have to go the whole way on foot. 
 We shall not find any conveyance at the port at 
 this hour," he said presently, and speaking dis- 
 tinctly and clearly ; besides, he was close to her. 
 
 " Are we going back by the port ?" she asked, 
 in the same tone. 
 
 " Yes, it is a third the distance to what we 
 should have to make if we went round." 
 
 " But the tide will be up. How shall we pass "?"
 
 314 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 "O, easily. The tide does not come to the 
 foot of the hills, and we shall turn off short to the 
 left the moment we reach the base, and skirt them 
 closely till we reach the steps leading up to the 
 pier." 
 
 Dacia said no more in opposition. She was 
 walling and contented to leave herself to Hugh's 
 guidance ; so on they went, though but slowly. 
 It was terrible to be walking over such ground in 
 utter darkness, and nothing but the lighthouse 
 to guide them as to the direction they were to 
 take. Neither had spoken for some time, when 
 suddenly Miss Singleton called out for help. She 
 had slipped down, owing to a large hole being dug 
 in the sand; and walking on without seeing an 
 inch before her, she had put her foot into it. It 
 was a minute at least before Mostyn found the 
 spot where she was, for he was walking some few 
 paces ahead of her, and then his hand came in 
 contact with her face ; however, he easily helped 
 her out, and then advised her taking his arm. 
 She did so thankfully, and then walked on with 
 more confidence. It took them fully half an hour 
 before they reached the last range of sand-hills,
 
 CKOSSING THE DUNES. 315 
 
 and then it was really a difficult matter to make 
 the descent. It is a very different thing to climb 
 up the side of a sand-hill in broad daylight, when 
 you can scramble up by the aid of different holes 
 and rush-grass, to descending it on a black stormy 
 night, when holes prove more dangerous than 
 helpful, and rush-grass considerably in the way. 
 Presently they heard Sancho barking at the foot 
 of the hills not angrily, but steadily and con- 
 tinuously. 
 
 " I will go first," said Mostyn ; " and if you 
 will rest your hand on my arm, I think I can 
 guide you safely down." So they began the de- 
 scent. " I wonder what is the matter with San- 
 cho ; he does not bark for nothing." 
 
 " He is not far from us now," said Dacia ; and 
 then added suddenly, "Does not the sea sound 
 very close?" 
 
 " It is close, for it is high tide, but it is far 
 enough off for our purpose." 
 
 " I hope so ; but I have seen the sea up to the 
 very foot of these hills when the tide has risen un- 
 usually high, which it frequently does here during 
 stormy w r eather."
 
 31(5 DACIA SINGLETON. 
 
 There was no answer this time. A doubt be- 
 gan to take possession of Mostyn's mind also. He 
 fancied he saw the large sheets of white foam 
 within a few yards of them, and in another minute 
 Sancho returned to his side like the dove to the 
 ark; he had found the way impassable, and had 
 warned his master of danger. What was to be 
 done now? There was no possibility of gaining 
 the town that way, if they were shut out by the 
 sea from reaching the pier. To turn back and go 
 round was the only alternative; and he believed 
 Dacia would prove incapable of doing it. It was 
 not alone the distance, but it was the terrible 
 ground they had to go over ; the sand so soft, that 
 in many places every step they took they sank 
 ankle-deep into it. 
 
 A few steps more he was rather self-Avilled, 
 and not convinced without proof of any thing 
 Hugh had fain to believe that Dacia's fears were 
 correct. There rose the great huge waves like 
 mountains before them, and bursting with such 
 fuiy that the spray reached them and dashed in 
 their faces. It was an awful sight, yet wondrously 
 grand.
 
 CROSSING THE DUNES. 317 
 
 " God help those at sea to-night !" exclaimed 
 Dacia, as she stood there, her hand still resting on 
 Hugh's arm, watching the water's fury. 
 
 " She is not thinking of herself," was Mostyn's 
 inward remark ; " and yet she will have to battle 
 against the wind on land, and I don't know that 
 she is better able than the poor creatures she prays 
 for at sea." 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. By EDMUND YATES. G*. 
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 MILDRED ARKELL. By the Author of " East Lynne." Gs. 
 
 HALF A MILLION OF MONEY. By the Author of " Bar- 
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 TOO MUCH ALONE. By the Author of " City and Suburb." Gs. 
 CITY AND SUBURB. By the Author of "George Geith," &c. G*. 
 THE WORLD IN THE CHURCH. By the Author of " George 
 
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 TREYLYN HOLD. By the Author of " East Lynne," &c. 6*. 
 
 MISS FORRESTER. By the Author of the " Morals of May- 
 fair," &C. 68. 
 
 DENIS DONNE. By ANNIE THOMAS, Author of " Theo Leigh," 
 
 6s. 
 
 MAURICE DERING. By the Author of " Guy Livingstone," 
 
 &c. 6s. 
 
 GUY LIYINGSTONE. By the Author of " Sword and Gown," 
 
 &C. 58. 
 
 BARREN HONOUR. By the Author of " Sword and Gown," 
 
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 BORDER AND BASTILLE. By the Author of " Maurice 
 
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 SWORD AND GOWN. By the Author of " Guy Livingstone." 
 
 4s. 6d. 
 
 SEYEN SONS OF MAMMON. By GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. Gs. 
 RECOMMENDED TO MERCY. 6s. 
 
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