:f?s <'n WMM \o\ 5 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES *?\ «^*2£r -ejj? *2 /s"? a Y> young gentlemen; it had slipped my mind, though. Well, I will be ready for you by two o'clock. Who else goes with us?' ' Oh, Charlie, of course.' ' I don't think Charlie will,' said Dudley, looking gravely but kindly at the little face by his side, which grew suddenly red as he spoke. 'I think we said Charlie had forfeited his holiday this week; hey, Charlie?' Charlie's eyes filled with tears, but he did not answer, and Halcot and Seymour both knew too well the perfect justice of the sentence to interfere ; so the conver- sation went on with arguments between the boys as to the best manner of making flies. But the little heart was too full of the disappointment to contain itself : for a few minutes the boy's spirit battled with the child's, and I saw him bravely gulp down his feelings twice or thrice ; then one tear rolled down, then another, and then he put down his head on Dudley's arm and burst out crying. Poor Charlie's sobs would have been terribly echoed by Rill's shrill little voice had not Seymour, by a pleasing and well- timed application of jam, turned her attention into a sweeter channel, and afforded a charming opportunity for smearing her white pinafore unperceived that was not to be despised. I signed a piteous protest to Dudley as to whether justice were not to be tempered with mercy, and receiving no marked discouragement proceeded to my soothing task. ' Listen, Charlie boy ; don't cry so, and we will think of some- thing we may do to-morrow, as you must not go fishing. Don't you think if we were to go to Holme Lee Wood, you and I, to gather some early strawberries for dear father when he comes home, •-he likes wild strawberries, and they must be ripe by this time ; we will take Rill and blind Billy and a basket, and — ' ' Picnic in the woods this delicious spring weather, and not ask me to be of the party, you naughty little woman,' cried Dudley ; ' boys, you had better make friends with Bruce, he is a far better fisherman than I, and let me off.' ' Oh no, Dudley, you promised ; oh no, it would be no fun without you,' pleaded the lads. NELLIES MEMORIES. 7 ' Don't trouble yourselves,' said Bruce, ' Loo has booked me for the afternoon for better sport than fishing.' ' Indeed, what is your little game, Loo?' ' Oh, we are going to ride with the Thornton girls to see the far-famed ruin that they pretend to have discovered, and Bruce has promised to escort us.' Dudley arched his eyebrows. ' What animal do you propose to bestride ?' ' Oh, Hazlewood's, of course ; he always puts Larkspur at my service when he is in the North. Really, Dudley, it is a noble beast : I wish the governor would buy him for us ; it is perfectly ridiculous to see all our empty stalls, with plenty of money to fill them, only the governor is so old-fashioned in some of his notions ; neither Hazlewood nor Dick Thornton has a bit more right to ride their own horses than we, with our business.' ' My father is of another way of thinking,' replied Dudley, gravely, 'and I think I agree with him that for the present it is best to avoid any unnecessary outlay.' 'There, Louie,' retorted Bruce, biting his moustache with an annoyed air, 'as Dudley and the governor rule the roast, I can only inform you that you had better postpone your intention of buying White Lily, for it is morally impossible for you to ride alone, or be dependent on stray escorts.' ' Never mind, Bruce, I will talk my father over one day, and then I promise you we will have our way in spite of Dudley's long face.' ' Very well, Queen Loo,' laughed Dudley, ' work your own wicked will. But now about this piscatory scheme : must I go with those boys, Nell ?' ' I am afraid you must ; but let us see, can we not manage some better way ? Supposing you and Hal and Seymour start at two, as you say, and Charlie and Rill and I meet you at a given spot, and all take tea in the woods and come home together? will not that suit every one ?' ' Of course,' cried the boys ; ' Holme Wood and Abbey Farm are not half a mile apart, and we can have a regular jolly evening, can't we, Dudley ?' ' Oh yes, that is a brilliant suggestion on your part, Nellie ; Charlie, your punishment is half remitted this once, you see ; you must thank your sister for it.' Charlie rushed round the table to give me a good squeeze, and to whisper his thanks ; proceedings that were strongly disapproved of by Rill, who immediately curled herself up on my lap, with a jealous look at the interloper, while the boys rushed out to their cricket, carrying off the grumbling Bruce in triumph. Louie followed as umpire, and Dudley came up to the window-seat beside me. ' Nell, I am glad you have managed to compensate poor Charlie for the disappointment ; it goes to my heart to punish him • he has the sweetest disposition in the world. 3 NELLIES MEMORIES. I wonder what sort of man he will turn out !' What sort of man ? Oh Charlie, dear sweet Charlie, with your loving eyes and winsome \yays, who can answer that question ? CHAPTER II. ' She hath no scorn of common things, And though she seems of other earth, Round us her heart entwines and clings, And patiently she folds her wings To tread the humbler paths of earth.' — Lowell. 'The idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination ; And every lovely organ of her soul Shall come apparelled in most precious habi^ More winning, delicate, and full of life Into the eye and prospect of his soul.' — Shaktsjieare. SUNNYSIDE was an old gabled house standing in a long grassy lane, where the birds sang lustily, and the cuckoo might be heard the whole day through in early spring-time. In bird's-nesting and blackberry seasons many a straggler from school found his way hither on depredatory errands, much to our boys' disgust, who would fain have waged war against the sturdy little rebels ; but the linnets' and robins' nests were far too great temptations to be resisted ; and in spite of Halcot's hot denial of any right of way, many pairs of feet crossed our stile that had no business there. Sometimes a nightingale would sing from the old elm-trees in front, but they were mostly to be heard in the coverts down by the Priory ; and many a moonlight night have we crossed the low-lying meadows, and entering the deserted lodge gates, wandered up and down the beech avenue listening to them. A lovely old place was the Priory, especially when the evening sun streamed redly on its gabled roof and mullioned windows ; or the moon threw a sheet of pure white light on Gothic arches and stone terraces. Truly a noble old place, for it claimed the whole of Holme Lee Wood, and most of the out-lying farms. The Priory gardens were our favourite resort ; often and often when our lawn was riotous with boy cricketers, and our pleasant mossy arbour untenable from Bruce's cigars, have Dudley and I strolled to our favourite seat in what used to be termed the rosary, where, surrounded by broken Dryads and Fauns, we enjoyed the stillness of evening, only broken upon here by the cawing of rooks and the chiming of the church bells in the distance. There have we sat and marvelled much, why the owner of so fair an estate should leave it to ruin and desolation, while he carried on his weary antiquarian researches in Southern Italy. Some said that grief at the loss of his wife had exiled him ; but however that might be, his loss was our gain, for old Richards the gamekeeper and his wife were notable friends of ours, and gave us fre* access to the grounds whenever we chose. NELLIES MEMORIES. 9 The country round Sunnyside was as varied as it was beautiful ; every window in our house commanded a fresh view : at our back, as I said before, lay the Priory meadows belted in by woods, where all day long the cattle gathered themselves in cool shady places under trees and by the side of half-dried ponds, forming groups pleasing to the eye of any landscape painter. In front were corn- fields, and beyond, scattered villages, breezy uplands, and purple- hued hills ; and to our right the spires and house-tops of our pretty town of D , which lay in the broken hollow of the hills like a dove in its nest At the end of our grass lane stood the church and parsonage, where our friends the Egertons lived, and just opposite, the Hermitage, as the Thorntons styled their place, and Dr. Walde- grave's house, with its cool green verandah ; and then came the long straggling street we called the village, but which really formed the outskirts of the town. From Sunnyside we could see the chimneys of father's factory rising through the trees ; but our eyes were spared the sight of the hideous red fabric itself, as our ears were defended from the incessant whirr of its machinery. How the boys could bear their days being passed in such a place was a perpetual astonishment to me. I never entered its walls, so strong was my dislike to the monotonous sound, the incessant movement, and the oily odours that pervaded it. Louie, on the contrary, delighted to visit it, and seemed to take as much interest in its various details as Dudley and Bruce themselves. She knew the operatives by name, and their wives and families, and was as much ' Queen Loo ' in the factory as at Sunnyside. On the morning of the day when we were to have our excursion to Holme Lee Wood, I was standing at the nursery window sorting out a heap of boys' linen, which nurse had brought me somewhat ruefully, with the apologetic remark that ' Boys will be boys, and wear out their clothes sooner than girls ; but that master Charlie's things were in such a state that she really could not keep him tidy nohow.' Now, there are limits to everything, and though work was my natural element, a pleasure as well as a task, yet the pile ol dilapidated little shirts before me, and the remembrance of countless wristbands lying on my table downstairs, cooled even my courage, and I was getting rather hot and dolorous over every fresh garment brought to light, when nurse suggested that Mrs. Egerton might know of some one to assist me. i Just the very woman, nurse,' I exclaimed in a tone of great relief ; ' I will run down and talk to her this minute.' So I tied on my bonnet, kissed little Rill, who was paddling after me with a hairless stump of a doll hugged close in her fat arms, and sped down the lane to the parsonage. Mr. and Mrs. Egerton were the strangest couple in the world, and the most worthy. She was a sweet little brown-eyed woman, with a tender, tremulous voice ; a constant invalid and always suffering, yet never complaining ; a mere fragment of a woman, so fragile and io NELLIES MEMORIES. delicate to look at, that one marvelled to see what she could and did endure, month after month and year after year. So very young and fair too, that one could scarcely believe her to be the mother of the tall strong lad who so reverenced and petted her. In the strongest contrast to this wee woman was her husband. Mr. Egerton was a perfect son of Anak, a Saul among men ; tall, broad-shouldered, with a massive head and forehead, and great calm eyes that looked down into yours from the pulpit as if they were holding the very torch of truth to your heart. A genial warm-hearted Christian man, with only one weak point about him, and that was his wife, whom he cherished with a love that was just short of idolatry. The only absurdity I ever saw in Mrs. Egerton was in her persist- ing to call the good-humoured giant by the ridiculous name of ' Tiney.' Why such a nickname was ever chosen for him I never knew, but Tiney he was always called ; and laugh as you might, and protest as you would that his baptismal name John was far prefer- able in every way, she would only smile and say he liked his pet name best, and I believe he did. The shady verandahs before the parsonage windows looking out on the trim beds of scarlet geraniums were vacant, though from the scissors and gardening gloves lying on the seat, some busy hands had been engaged in trimming and pruning the roses that clustered in such profusion round the porch. The dining-room was empty, and so was the warm sunny drawing- room ; so, doubting not that they were in what Seymour tenned their summer parlour, I stepped through the window and on to the lawn. Nor was I wrong in my surmise ; there was the chintz sofa as usual, drawn up under the acacia tree, and there lay its patient little occupant in the midst of her flower-beds and beehives, her two canaries hung up in the branches, and her laziest of lazy spaniels sunning himself at her feet. A table strewn with papers stood beside her ; and there, in his loose dressing-gown and slouched garden hat, was Tiney writing his sermon, while from the distance came the incessant monotonous cooing of Seymour's doves from behind their wire aviary. ' Why, here comes Nellie,' cried Mr. Egerton, rising and giving me a cordial grasp of the hand, ' looking as bright and cool as the morning itself. You do not often honour us with so early a visit, and I'll warrant you there is business at the bottom of it' I smiled as I stooped to take his wife's hand — the thin little hand that I always held so tenderly from a sort of dim idea, I believe, that its pink-and-white transparency might prove brittle — • and asked how she was. ' It is one of Grace's bad days,' replied her husband ; 'she has been suffering from her last night's exertions, and feels worn and exhausted, but this pleasant morning air has somewhat revived her ;' and as he spoke he looked at her with such tender pity in his eyes as though he would have borne all for her — this strong, gentle, man. NELLIES MEMORIES. II ' So Tiney brought me out here to learn lessons of wisdom and patience from the bees and the flowers ; but instead of that I have been dozing away my precious hours in spite of the flies, who have been buzzing about me the whole time, restless busybodies that they are. Take the other corner of my sofa, dear Nellie, or shall Tiney bring you out your favourite low chair?' Declining the chair, I fitted myself dexterously into the small space allotted to me, and gazed around me well pleased. The Egertons' garden was small, but very pretty, consisting only of a lawn studded with flower-beds and flower-baskets ; but just at the bottom it sloped down to a belt of Scotch firs, under which Seymour and his father had constructed the prettiest little fern-garden imaginable ; where on the hottest summer's day one could find a shady cool nook to sit in. There were no high walls, as at Sunny- side and the Priory, to shut out the view ; nothing but a fence divided it from the cornfields and, beyond, the sweep of purple moor, sleeping as it did to-day under a cloudless, brilliant sky. ' Mr. Egerton,' I said, ' it is a perfect marvel to me how you can write your sermons out here ; the air and sunshine always appear to possess narcotic properties for me. I cannot even read in the open air ; a dancing butterfly or the song of a bird would lure me on to a day-dream, from which I should assuredly vanish into dreamland itself ; how can you correctly follow out a train of thought and reasoning ?' Mr. Egerton smiled his grave, dreamy smile. 'Why, Nellie, I am one of those men who can abstract themselves from the outside world even in a crowd ; but this quiet garden-seat is my favourite place of study, where I can learn the most — the insect world at my feet, the birds, and the flowers, all suggest countless images to me of the great truths that I seek to illustrate to the youngest and feeblest of my flock.' Here his blue eyes grew calm and steady as he spoke. ' I love to follow the course of the seasons, seed-time and harvest, summer and winter, and in some measure they influence as well as embellish the matter of my discourses. Accord- ing to my ideas, preachers in general are too chary of borrowing from Nature ; they content themselves with lengthy arguments on abstract truths, over which brains wax drowsy, and the mind of the many desirous of rest on what is the day of rest, refuses to exercise itself in following out step by step the weary mass of combative eloquence, and so brings away at the end a very confused notion of the whole. Why raise stumbling-blocks in the people's way just to throw them down again, as many men do, by way of testing their own skill ? Mere moral essayists, they have not learnt the way to the human heart ; no, nor never will I tell you, Nellie, were I to live twice my life I could not exhaust the resources that Nature supplies me with, ay, and thrice a lifetime too.' 'He says,' whispered Mrs. Egerton softly, 'that his autumn sermons are the best, and his winter sermons the worst* 12 NELLIES MEMORIES. ' Oh, Mr. Egerton,' I exclaimed, 'there are no worst, none can go to your church hungry and be sent away empty ; or sick or sad, that will not come away strengthened and refreshed ; and, what's more, each one can take away some crumb of comfort just applicable to his own case. Our mother said so, and she was right.' A warm gratified smile played round his mouth a moment, and he patted my hand kindly. ' Nell, Nell, thou art but as one of the babes, but we have a few hard and stubborn ones amongst us ; and it is for them that the shepherd works and wrestles in soul-conflict, that haply he may win them ;' and, pushing his papers from him, he rose and paced across the lawn, musingly. We watched him a moment, then drew nearer together and spoke of other things, parish matters, women's work, and lastly my own little scrap of business, which was settled to my heart's content in five minutes ; and cheered by the mental vision of labour alleviated, my spirits rose, and we talked on blithely till — ■ ' Mrs. Egerton, that was not the factory bell ! ' ' My love, I fear it was ; but if you run away at once, you may reach home as soon as Dudley and Bruce. Good-bye. Don't trouble about finding Tiney ; I'll tell him how it was.' Late for dinner ! I, who was noted at home for punctuality — the amount of chaff would be unendurable. I hastened down to the stile ; there they were, sauntering round the corner, Bruce, hands in pocket, cigarette in mouth ; — then, what impelled me I know not, but, waving my hand in answer to Dudley's hailing shout, I flew down the lane at a pace of which I did not believe myself capable. The breeze flew freshly in my face from the moor ; my feet seemed winged and weighted with air ; really, when grown-up people con- descend to children's romps, they bring to it twice a child's enjoy- ment. Never in my life did I appreciate a race more, knowing, as I did, that I was distancing two pairs of feet : hurrah, I was in at the iron gate, which I burst open with a force that poured on me a shower of half-withered laburnum leaves, and was panting on the hall steps as Bruce, still with hands in his pockets and as cool as possible, ran lightly up to me. ' Well ran, by Jove ; but what in the world ails the girl? You look as wild as a March hare.' I had no breath to answer with, but casting hat and cloak aside, led the way to the dining-room, where, seated at the top of the table, to my infinite disgust, was Dudley, who rose and bowed to me. ' Dudley,' I said, shaking him, 'have you flown in ?' ' Yes, at the window,' he replied, and offered me a chair ; of course there was nothing to be said after that The balmiest of afternoons had settled down on Holme Lee Woods, when Charlie and I, witli Rill and half-a-dozen well-filled baskets packed neatly on blind Billy's back, entered the glade appointed for our trysting-place. It was five o'clock, and for three NELLIE'S MEMORIES, 13 hours Charlie and I had been searching in the nooks and recesses of the wood intent on strawberry-gathering, till fairly tired, and warned by lengthening shadows, we scrambled through by-ways and no-ways, dragging poor Billy after us. It was a lovely spot that we had selected for the gipsying — a still, deep glade, so narrow that the beechen branches nearly met overhead, with dark soft shadows alternating with yellow patches of light, and carpeted with short velvety turf. As we entered, some score or so of rabbits were busily scampering about, or sitting up on their haunches inside the hollow trunks, but the moment we appeared, Billy's stumbling feet and Charlie's joyous shout drove away all the long-eared pussies, and in a moment a strange stillness settled down on the old place, only broken by a falling leaf or a chirping grasshopper. ' It is something like church,' Charlie whispered, and as I glanced down the long green aisle, and remembered how one day I heard the wind play a glorious symphony on the tree-tops, I could not help smiling assent. But there was much to be done, so while Rill was gathering bouquets of buttercups and dandelions, and proffering them to Billy, who snorted disgust in return, Charlie and I set out the prettiest of teas among the beech trunks— milk, rolls, butter, and cakes, and piles of sweet wood-strawberries in nests of green leaves, interspersed with bouquets of wild flowers ; and when all was done we sat down and told wonderful fairy tales, till we heard the voices of the returning party as they burst through the trees in a wild state of excitement, and applauded loudly the cozy scene before them. They had had good luck, they said, and the unhappy trout were taken out, looked at, admired, and weighed ; while Rill, to her infinite delight, smoothed their shining bodies, and poked curious fingers into their cold, fish eyes, murmuring, ' Pretty, pretty.' It was hard to disabuse the little maid's mind that they were not playthings ; but by dint of coaxing and persuasion, she was induced to let the ' dead beasties ' be, and sit by Seymour's side, and eat out of her leafy plate. It really was a most festive little affair : the boys laid themselves out to enjoy themselves and talk nonsense ; they told ridiculous stories, at which they laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks, and sang songs and choruses till they were fairly hoarse ; and then we grew more quiet, and listening to the chirping good night of the birds, talked softly of summers' days and happy summers' junketings, till the sudden crackling of branches to our right startled us all. The boys sprang to their feet and I held Dudley's arm rather nervously, till a tall young man in a Scotch cap with a plaid flung over his arm came rapidly in sight. ' Cousin Keith,' shouted the lads. ' Bravo, Keith ! what brings you here, old boy ? I thought you were safe in your chambers in town;' and Dudley grasped his hand gladly, and the warmest greetings passed between the unexpected visitor and our little party. 14 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. ' Seat yourself, my good fellow, and tell us what pleasant wind has wafted you down to Holme Lee this evening.' 'Willingly,' cried Keith, tossing his plaid to the ground and stretching himself upon it. 'The fact is, my appointment is signed, and my time of departure fixed I believe for the 28th of August : at that date I shall start by the good ship Neptune for Calcutta ; so I am now en route for the north, to be with the old folk as long as I can ; and as the journey is long I thought I would break it by a night at Sunnyside, hoping to pay you a longer visit a month or six weeks hence, when I suppose I must say good-bye.' ' Ay, time enough for that ; we are none of us too ready to part with you, Keith. Well, so finding the old house empty, you came out to seek us here ; did you stay to take refreshment ? ' ' Oh yes ; old Charlotte spread the board richly on my behoof ; even Nellie herself could hardly have catered better for my enter- tainment. But where are Bruce and Louie ? I see they are not of your party.' ' No, they are with the Thorntons as usual ; they are inseparable, as you know of old ! ' 'Do they exclude you, Nellie?' said Keith kindly. ' Oh dear, no ; they are always wishing me to join them, but the girls are too gay for my quiet, demure taste.' ' No, they are not your sort,' returned Keith ; and then Dudley and he fell to a discussion on the merits of Dick Thornton. But I was silent, for I felt a quick sharp pain at the sudden news of Keith's departure, which, though it had been mooted for some time, had been deferred from month to month ; but now he was really going, had taken his berth in the ship, and we should miss him so, our good, noble-hearted cousin Keith. And here I may as well say what must come out hereafter, that Keith and I were more than cousins to each other ; at least I was to him, but I never knew how much till about three months before poor mother's death he asked me to be his wife. But my parents were very unwilling that I should share his dubious prospects here in England, and still more that I should accompany him, as he wished, to India ; nor would they hear of an engagement that might fetter me for years ; and when they referred him to me I coincided in their opinion, ay, and firmly too, though when I saw the bitterness of his grief it was hard indeed to persist in it. But dearly as I loved him, so dearly that had he asked me to share ever so humble a home with him in England I would have done it, I could not place the ocean, for his sake, between me and Dudley, — no, it would have broken my heart, I did not love him well enough for that Now I have always thought that if a woman does not love a man well enough to leave her country and home and be ready to follow him, even to the ends of the world if need be, deeming all nothing in comparison to his love, she should not marry him, therefore I felt that I was not worthy of Keith ; but when I told him so, he — well, it does not matter what he said — but I never NELLIES MEMORIES. iS knew before how deep and strong and pure a good man's love can be. Since then we have tried to return to the old cousinly ways, and though it was hard at first — hard for me, and doubly hard for him — yet his gentleness and kindness soon put me at my ease ; and Dudley helped us, dear old Dudley, who told me afterwards how much he had always feared that Keith would carry me off; and I remember there was a strange tenderness in his tone as he pressed me to him, and said that ' Keith Cameron was the only man who was worthy of me, but that he could not spare me even to him yet.' ' Nay, never fear, Dudley ; you may leave me, but I you, never. 1 But the sun was setting on Holme Lee, and Rill, heavy with sleep, was nodding drowsily on Charlie's shoulder, who, poor boy, oppressed with her weight, was sitting bolt upright, staring hard at Keith, a martyr to cramp and an aching arm. I took poor baby from her stiff supporter to my softer lap, where she travelled off, thumb in mouth, to her child's paradise, while I quietly followed the conversation of the young men. ' I do not envy you,' Dudley was saying ; 'fancy changing this cool, bracing air for the heat and glare of the tropics. Keith, I fear you will sicken for your Scottish moors again.' ' I do not doubt it ; but it is a sickness to which all exiles are liable. Why should I not suffer as well as they ? You would not believe how I take in every feature of the dear old spots, that I may print them indelibly in my memory ; I know them so by heart, that I shall only have to turn over my portfolio to look at the picture I love best' ' Pictures ! have you got pictures, cousin Keith ? ' cried Charlie, eagerly. "You have never shown them to us.' Dudley and the boys laughed. ' Pictures ! Charlie, lad ? ay, and scores of them. Some of them so large, and warm, and life-like that, when I bring them out, they will light up the walls of my dusky bungalow, and make it feel like home.' Charlie appeared deeply impressed. ^ ' Cousin Keith, do you mind telling me a little about them ? What are they like ? ' 'Yes, tell us one or two of them,' echoed Seymour and HalcoL ' Shall I indulge these boys, Nellie ?' ' Do. I cannot imagine what you mean.' ' Go on, old fellow,' yawned Dudley, putting down his head beside baby's ; ' it will be novel and amusing. See if I do not annotate all you say.' Keith glanced dreamily at the tree-tops, which now cut clear and dark against the evening sky. ' I have so many that I do not know which to choose. I have added one more to my stock this evening ; but stay, I have one, here it is ' A long, low room, full of sweet scents, with the odour of freih- 16 NELLIES MEMORIES. mown hay coming in at the open window ; a room, bright, and warm, and sunny, and in a low chair, by a little table with a vase of half-blown roses on it, a girl in white, with a breast-knot of blue ribbons, stitching busily ; a rosy child playing at her feet with a rag doll ' ' That was the day, Keith, when you came down from London so tired,' broke in Dudley, 'and you were sitting opposite Nellie, drinking a glass of new milk that Charlie had brought when I came in from the factory.' ' How did you know that was the afternoon ? Not from my description.' ' Yes, I did. I put two and two together, and they make four,' retorted Dudley, as he drowsily composed himself again. ' Go on, old fellow.' ' My second,' continued Keith, 'is a different scene,' — 'A room, this time ruddy with firelight and lamplight, drawn crimson curtains, snowy table-cloth with silver branches shining upon it ; garlands of glistening holly-berries ornamenting the dark wainscot ; round the hearth a merry group ; with' — said Keith, his voice slightly quivering — ' not one vacant chair ; next year there will be two ! ' I half laid my hand on Dudley's ; it was grasped, and held. 'Well, Keith?' ' My third is a cornfield, gay with scarlet poppies and blue corn- flowers ; a fresh, free wind sweeping across a sea of golden grain, and sporting with us ; waving Louie's hair, and playing pranks with Nellie's gipsy hat ; a group of five gathered round a stile, listening to a lark's song ; a sun in the west sinking in a mass of crimson clouds — I can hear that lark's song now.' ' Ay, Keith ; and we all walked up to the Priory to hear the nightingales, but they would not sing that night ; but you must shut up your portfolio for the present, for the dew is falling heavily on my little Rill's head, and Nell's dress is perfectly damp ; give me baby, I will carry her ; and, boys, go and unfasten Billy. 'Stay a moment,' and Keith deftly wrapped his plaid round Rill's bare little legs, so that she lay couched in Dudley's arms as warmly as in her crib at home, as he marched off in triumph with her, whist- ling gaily, while the boys, mounting Charlie on the pony, ran races down-hill, and Keith giving me his arm brought up the rear. We walked a few moments in silence ; somehow, cousin Keith and I never seemed to have much to say to each other now, and it appeared to me that he broke an awkward pause with difficulty by saying — ' Any message for the home folks, Nellie ? ' ' My dear love to Katie and aunt Margaret, and ask Katie when she means to pay her long-promised visit to Sunnyside ; do you think she would come this summer, Keith, if I were to write to her again ? ' NELLIES MEMORIES. 17 1 Not if I know Katie ; nothing will induce her to leave home ; 6he will have work enough there for the next six months to cheer up my mother and father, for they will miss me sorely, Nellie, I fear ; my father especially, he so wished me to settle down near him.' ' I do not wonder at it ; it is hard for them to lose their only- son ; and for poor Katie too.' ' It is, indeed ; but I know she will be staunch and true-hearted as ever — never giving way, but keeping up their spirits, and her own too, bravely. Could you not manage to pay them a visit, Nellie ? It would be a real charity if you would, and they are all so fond of you.' I shook my head. ' My place is at home too, Keith : I cannot leave my children.' In the gathering darkness I felt him look at me. ' Poor Nellie, poor child, you are young to have such cares ; very, very young.' At that moment, Dudley stepped back to ask him some question relative to the plan of his departure ; and as they talked my thoughts travelled to Keith's home in the north. I had spent three happy months there once, and I remember as if it were yesterday how charmed I was with every feature of the wild Scotch scenery, and especially with the little rock-girt glen, crossed by its brawling stream, where the old stone manse stood in the midst of its trim pleasaunce and clipped yew walks. I thought of the grave minister, who at first somewhat inspired me with awe, but whom latterly I had learnt to look upon as a dear friend ; of aunt Margaret, with her pleasant, household ways, and bonnie, laughing Katie — the moving spirit of the old house, the last of many fair daughters that the minister and his wife had followed to their rest in the kirk-yard. No marvel the minister's brow was rugged, and aunt Margaret's eyes so sad, for the ' pestilence that walketh in darkness ' had ravaged their home and made havoc of their flock ; and it was many years before they dared to hope that Katie would be spared to them, and now they were going to lose Keith. At this point of my reverie we reached the stile that guarded our grass lane, from which we could see the lights of Sunnyside glim- mering through the trees ; in a few minutes more we were meirily exchanging salutations with Louie and Bruce, who came out to meet us, while Rill, scarlet with sleep and murmuring drowsily, was laid in her nursery cot by the loving arms of Dudley himself. C 18 NELLIES MEMORIES. CHAPTER III. ' Rainy and rough sets the day, There's a heart beating for somebody ; I must be up and away, Somebody's anxious for somebody. Thrice has she been to the gate, Thrice hath she listened for somebody ; Midst the night, stormy and late. Somebody s waiting for somebody.' — Swain. Henry Kingsley speaks much in one of his books of the strange capability some few people have of remaining long in one position in perfect repose, and he makes it one of the chief charms of his little bright-eyed heroine Eleanor, that ' she possessed this art of sitting absolutely still for any length of time with the most perfect grace,' a most difficult and rare accomplishment, he affirms, and also a most useful one. Now with all due respect to Henry Kingsley, I presume to differ with him. It always appeared to me that the little heroine aforesaid might have been more profitably engaged in embroidering altar-cloths for her beloved Margaret Street, than in sitting with placid hands perpetually folded in her lap, as if carved in stone. Now Louie possessed this, to me, most provoking faculty ; in certain moods, generally when in trouble or doubt on any matter, she would silently seat herself opposite my work-table, and crossing her large white hands over each other, remain so sometimes one hour, and sometimes two, in perfect silence. It was useless to attempt to rouse her by comments or questioning ; brief mono- syllables, not always to the purpose, were the sole results ; I have even found shaking, argument, and scolding all equally heating and useless, and have only ended by fidgeting myself out of the room. This morning Louie had been sitting so for at least three quarters of an hour ; but I had not noticed it so much, feeling somewhat quiet and depressed myself, perhaps from the gravity of Keith's farewell words, which had somehow touched me more than I cared to acknowledge, but I comforted myself with the reflection that we should soon meet again. Rill was enjoying a nap on the carpet at my feet in company with Nettle : all the morning the little maid had been standing at my knee, following, with chubby knuckles and coquettish thimble, the workings of a marvellously sticky needle through a stiff piece of lining, which was intended as a covering for the unfortunate waxen creature, who, having been operated upon by Charlie in his character of ' Doll's physician,' and condemned to lose half her sawdust, was lying with weakly body and sickly- looking legs over a chair just by. ' Nellie, Bruce and I are going out again this afternoon ;' the remark was made as if the silence had been before broken. 1 1 fear father will take it unkindly, Louie, as he comes home to-night !' ' I do not see that ; he cannot be due at Sunnyside till half-past NELLIES MEMORIES. ig nine, and we shall be home punctually at ten ; he will understand it is an engagement.' ' Is it another riding party ? * No, a water excursion ; we shall start at four, and as we have declined returning to the Hermitage for supper, we cannot fail to be home at the time I mention.' ' And what if you are detained r* ' In that case father must be content with profuse apologies, and a tardy welcome ; never fear, Nellie, he will not be angry with a little wilfulness on the part of Queen Loo, he is too much accus- tomed to it ; and Bruce is so set on my going with him.' * Perhaps so,' I returned drily ; ' but do you not think, putting the other considerations aside, that these endless junketings and water-parties are bad things for Bruce, taking him too much away from the factory ? It is not fair of him always leaving Dudley to do all the drudgery.' 1 Nay, Nellie, there you are unjust. You know Bruce would never leave his post while there is really work to be done ; but these are slack times ; and it is not because Dudley is such a steady old coach, and will not stir from the premises while father is away, that my poor Bruce need stay and help him do nothing too.' ' No, but he might offer to remain in his place and give him the chance of a holiday,' I persisted. Louie shrugged her shoulders. * I don't believe he would go if Bruce were to ask him ; he does not care for the Thornton set like we do.' ' Is Colonel Grey to be of the party, may I ask?' ' Of course ; it is got up for him, to show the London man of fashion the beauties of our rural life.' ' He has had ample time for seeing them over and over again. I understood he was to have left last week ; why is he staying on like this ? Louie, don't smile so provokingly ; pray, pray speak out.' ' Why, do you suppose I am answerable for the colonel's move- ments, Nell ? He may remain a month or two more for aught I care,' and Louie hummed a gay snatch to herself. I laid down my work with a dissatisfied feeling ; really she was a most provoking creature. ' Louie, you do know, and you do care. What are Colonel Grey's intentions?' ' I suppose to flutter mothlike round the flame till he gets his wings singed for his pains,' she returned saflfcily and perfectly unabashed. ' Really, Louie,' I replied, ' I verily believe you are the vainest as well as the most heartless of girls ; do you mean to entrap that unfortunate man into a declaration of affection, and then refuse him as you did the others ?' Louie laughed long and merrily. ' What nonsense you talk, Nellie, as if you did not know me better than to suppose I should take the trouble to entrap any one ; why, they may all go for what I care. Entrap them, indeed !' 20 NELLIES MEMORIES. * But you smile upon them in your own gracious way till they think you like them ; oh, Loo, you should take care. You do not mean to flirt, I know, but think how your manner deceived poor young Hazlewood, and the years he was getting over his disappoint- ment ; and Frank Lingram too ?' Now Frank Lingram was the Rev. Edgar Dale's young curate, who, presuming on his white hands and fair face, had had the coolness to lay himself and some ninety pounds per annum at Louie's feet ; an offer I need not say most graciously declined. The young clergyman and his romantic attachment had furnished a fruitful source of fun to the boys, and now as I mentioned his name a whole world of comic humour shone in Louie's eyes, eyes often more beautiful than true. ' So you would have seen me the wife of Frank Lingram, would you ? You would have judged me fitly mated with that feeble effeminate boy ?' and she shook her wealth of ruddy hair from her face with a proud, scornful smile. ' On the contrary,' I replied, ' I think more highly of you and of your taste than that ; what I mean is, that you commit a grave error in giving tacit encouragement to men, whom nothing would induce you to love ; they offer you homage, you accept it smilingly, and as if you appreciated it ; is this fair or honest ? Certainly beauty is a dangerous gift, but ' ' Oh Nell, Nell, I never knew you begin a long sermon on propriety and feminine decorum, without taking as your text the dangerous attraction of beauty or the amount of responsibility it incurs. 1 know I ought to listen to the lecture out of gratitude for the compliment ; but I am not in the humour for it to-day, so please spare me.' ' I did not mean to lecture you,' I replied, somewhat nettled. ' No, I am sure you did not : look here, Nell,' and she came and knelt at my feet, laying violent hands on my work, ' don't be hurt with me for my wilfulness. I know all you say is perfectly right and true ; I know Louie is a sad creature, always has been, and always will be ;' then, in graver tones, folding her hands on my Jap, and looking up into my face with her large calm eyes, ' Of course I plead guilty to all these crimes of which you accuse me. I am vain, selfish, and I dearly love admiration, though I would not court it ; I could not live unappreciated. What were Queen Loo without her kingdom and her subjects, Nell ? I stroked hex hair without speaking. ' 1 own all this, dear, and I am not ashamed to own it, but when you speak of these lovers of mine, for such I know you regard them, you do not touch me, you excite no pang or feeling of remorse. I am but a sceptic, I believe, in love affairs ; these men admire, court, and like me, but which of them loves me with the honest, manly, self-denying love which Keith bears to you — a love true through life to death, the only love worthy of a woman's acceptance ? NELLIES MEMORIES. z\ Come, don't cry, little sister, I did not mean to wound you, we will not talk of poor Keith any more.' ' Young Hazlewood,' I faltered. ' Has transferred his allegiance to Belle Thornton ; so much for his broken heart. Frank Lingram has joined the High Church pa"rty, and advocates celibacy of the clergy. Colonel Grey, if he does me the honour to propose, which I greatly doubt ; gentlemanly, accomplished as he is, and the owner of five thousand a year and a London house — ' she paused. ' Well, Loo, are not these strong recommendations ? You said you would never marry a poor man.' ' I will never marry Colonel Grey,' she answered shortly. ' Why, what fault has he, Queen Loo ? ' ' He — so cold, so passionless, so faultless, so — don't speak of him, I loathe his name !' then, after a long pause, ' Nell, I believe I shall never many.' ' Fie, what heresy ! You an old maid ! the saints forbid, as old Bridget says.' ' I shall never marry,' she repeated firmly, ' because I shall never love any one well enough. I do not think there is a person in the world for whose sake I could resign my own will, to whom I could bear to submit myself ; yes, I see it clearly, I have no heart to lose.' What could I say in answer to such strange words, but that time would prove, that the right person would come some day, and such- like homely adages, with which I strove to rouse her from the musing fit into which she was falling? At that moment little Rill gave a semi-waking cry, and stretching out her arms drowsily, inflicted such a blow in poor Nettle's e\e, that it made her limp off howling. Loo stooped down, and lifted her into her lap, and as she did so, and sat cradling the sleepy child in the sunlight, there came such a yearning, loving light into her eyes. I had seen that look before : I had seen it once when she took an infant from its dying mother's breast, and stilled its hungry wailings, and once when she stood beside a sick boy's cot ; an expression I can only describe by terming it ' the divine look of maternity.' Many years afterwards I stood in an ancient picture-gallery, and saw that look on the meek face of a Madonna there. I left her crooning out a low plaintive song, and gathering up my work, went about my house- hold business ; but our conversation had left a weight on my mind. Was it, could it be true, what she said about having no heart ? or was it that she had given it all to us ? No, I would not believe it ; from my daily intercourse with her, I felt there were depths in her unfathomed yet, a vast wealth of love, of which none dreamt, no. not she herself. My f\t of perplexity lasted till Dudley's cheery whistle summoned me to my place at the table, but I felt inexpressibly chafed on entering the room, to see Louie bending with a placid smile over a 22 NELLIES MEMORIES. bouquet of exquisite hothouse flowers, which filled the place with their fragrance, and admiring them with undisguised pleasure. 1 1 told Colonel Grey I adored flowers ; they are very beautiful, very, and most tastefully arranged. Don't pull the scented geranium- leaves off, Bruce, I will give you a piece after dinner ; I must put them in water now.' I turned away, feeling positively aggrieved ; she would accept those flowers then from a man she had just told me she abhorred, and when I looked up my thoughts were reflected in Dudley's eyes. I think there was a slight shade pervading our circle that day ; Louie, to be sure, laughed and talked enough for all, but there had evidently been a few words between the brothers, very few of course, for they were generally on excellent terms ; but Bruce was huffy with the boys, and Dudley very quiet. When we had finished, Louie went upstairs to prepare for the water-party ; the boys grasped satchels and caps and raced off to school, and Bruce lounged against the open garden door and whistled softly to himself. I had filled my apron with food for the chickens, and was passing him, Rill as usual toddling after me, when he caught me by the arm. ' Stop a minute, young woman ; what a hurry you are in ! I want to speak to you.' I stopped obediently. ' I say, Nell, it is such an awful bore about this water-party ; I don't a bit want to go, but the Thorntons pressed me so, and Loo seemed to want me, and so I promised, and now I can't get out of it.' ' I do not quite understand you, Bruce ; do you wish to get out of it ? ' ' No, not exactly that either, only — well, the fact is, Dudley and I had some words about it ; he said something about my shirking work when the governor was away, or something that sounded like it, and it riled me tremendously. You know there are things a fellow can't stand even from his own brother, and I was hot and spoke up, and now I am afraid Dud is in an awful way.' ' Oh, Bruce,' I said, the tears coming into my eyes, ' I know you have hurt him, I noticed directly how grieved he looked ; how could you ?' ' He had no right to lecture me,' he replied sullenly, ' no right at all, I am as much master as he ; but he has such old-fashioned notions about everything : he is as bad as the governor himself, or worse.' I sighed heavily. ' Dear Bruce, you have always got on so well together, don't, pray, have any unpleasantness during father's absence, for him to notice on his return. You know it was your fault ; I am sure he never meant to hurt your feelings, he who never says an unkind word to anybody ; do, please, make it up.' At that moment Dudley's foot sounded on the stairs, and before I could get away, he was beside us. Oh, how bright and good he NELLIES MEMORIES. 23 looked, with that pleasant smile on his face as he walked up to us and laid his hand on Brace's shoulder ! ' I am afraid I vexed you, old fellow, this morning ; I know I spoke hastily, don't remember it, please.' Bruce turned round with a smile, and they shook hands. Such a few words, such a brief reconciliation ! but I believe the brothers never loved each other so well as at that moment ' Nellie, I have an hour to spare, and a most interesting book ; be quick with your chickens and let us go into the orchard and enjoy it together.' Who so happy as I, as I trudged off, and threw my heap of corn to the first comer in the poultry yard, a supercilious old cock, my pet aversion, never waiting to see if my favourite little bantam mother and her brood got a bit, and then ran back to Dudley, who was walking down the shrubbery, with Rill holding tightly on one finger ! A green door in the garden-wall admitted us to the orchard, and a very quiet and peaceful spot it looked this afternoon, so cool and shady under the apple-trees ; so bright with yellow buttercups and daisies. Little Rill was all in haste to gather the golden treasures, and it seemed to afford her great delight to make up endlsss nose- gays with blades of grass and lay them on my lap, to be repaid with kisses. Dudley selected the shadiest nook, and depositing me and my work-basket in what I called ' my green velvet chair,' being a little grass hillock under our famous King Pippin tree, laid himself down at my side and opened his book ; but what with baby's cease- less interruptions, and the lazy beauty of the afternoon, we had little or no reading. Somehow I had much to say to him which he seemed pleased to hear ; so we talked of Louie, and Keith, and father's return, and Dudley's last pet scheme for the amelioration of labour at the factory, till the afternoon slipped away like magic, as all happy hours do in this world of ours. Sometimes now I shut my eyes and try to realize those happy scenes of my old home life ; the sun-flecked orchard, and my mossy throne under the apple-trees, Dudley's dear love, and my little Rill's tripping feet ' among the daisies ; oh, those little tripping feet ! oh, my sunny-haired darling ! Dudley had to run to the factory before tea, so I went in and put some finishing touches to father's room, and then sat down and played one of Dudley's pet airs on the piano — how seldom I seemed to have leisure to play and sing now ! — and before I had finished, he was standing beside me and humming an accompaniment. After tea the boys beguiled us into a game of rounders on the lawn ; and then the dew fell, and the twilight came on, and one star after another peeped out between the dark old garden trees ; and over the ivied walls of Sunnyside there stole a large v/hite moon ; then Rill and Charlie went to bed, and Seymour bade reluctant good-uight, while Halcot, pleading fatigue and a heavy day, crept 24 NELLIES MEMORIES. off after them ; and still Dudley and I walked up and down the lawn where the moonlight had spread for us a narrow path of light. ' How lovely the old Priory garden must look to-night, Dudley, with its white statues and urns ; if you had not to go to the train I should make you take me there ! ' 'By-the-by, Nellie, that reminds me that time is going on ; let me look at my watch — I thought so ; in another five minutes I must be off to meet father. You will have supper ready, mind ! ' So in we went from the moonlight to the warm radiance of lamp- lighted rooms. As I stood at the hall door watching him out, he suddenly came back and kissed me. ' Nellie, you are looking more like yourself than you have done for six months past ; all your colour has come back ; father will be delighted to see you ; come, Nettle, old girl,' and master and dog ran down the court together. When the gate closed, I went to the glass to see the change Dudley had noticed ; yes, it was true, the pallor I had gained from the fatigue of nursing poor mother was replaced by my old fresh- ness of complexion. I turned gaily away and arranged the supper table, half hoping Bruce and Loo might return, and then went my nursery rounds. They were all sleeping soundly, poor Halcot with a pile of lesson books heaped on a chair beside him, ready for an early study ; his little silver watch ticking peacefully at his head : so I descended to the dining-room and took up my work again. My thoughts were busy, and time passed unheeded, till I woke up from my reverie with a start, and glanced at the timepiece ; it was half-past ten ; surely it must be wrong — no, my watch and the chiming of the old church clock corroborated the fact ; half-past ten, and they were due at half- past nine ; father must have missed his train, and, if I remembered rightly, Dudley had said that there would not be another till half-past eleven ; poor boy, how tired he would be ! surely he would never wait at the station all that time ; and Bruce and Louie too, after all, they had been beguiled into a supper at the Hermitage — incorrigible truants that they were. Hush, surely that was not Dudley's key moving in the hail door, — yes, — no, that was not his footstep, his never lagged so, nor was it father's sharp quick tread. I laid down my work in some perplexity, and rose, and at that moment Dudley opened the door. Do you know what it is to sit quietly sewing by your own fireside, with ' the low beginnings of content ' just stirring pleasantly at your heart, and then to lift your head at the sound of an opening door, and see on the face you best love on earth the wordless anguish of one who brings ill tidings ! Can you realize the awful start— the ' death in life,' — the hand of ice clutching and tearing at your heart-strings, and binding down your tongue — can you realize this ? thank Heaven if you cannot. 'Oh, Dudley, oh, my dear, what has happened?' for he waj NELLIES MEMORIES. 2$ standing white as death in the middle of the room, just moving his dry lips without a sound, and with such a look in his eyes. ' Oh, brother, brother, don't look like that, do anything but look like that ; only tell me what has happened, and I will try to bear it — anything but this suspense.' I know he tried to speak, to tell me what had happened, but in his dumb agony could utter no articulate sound ; he only held me to him with a grasp like death, and a sobbing sound came heaving up from his chest. What could I do but wait till the awful hyste- rical emotion should pass and leave him calmer — then ! ' Tell me, dear, only one word — one word, for pity's sake — my father !' He shuddered violently, then raised his eyes to heaven, and when they met mine I threw myself upon his breast with a great and bitter cry. Ah me ! I needed no word to tell me that we had no father now. I think the sight of my despair restored Dudley a little to himself, and in another moment he had recovered himself and was striving to soothe me. ' Hush, Nell, hush; don't sob so, you frighten me ; we must try be calm, you and I, we have the children to think of (the children, poor things, they were asleep). ' Oh, my child, my child, you are breaking my heart.' He placed me in my low chair, and would have rushed off to fetch me some restorative, but I would not let him go ; I held him tightly, and when he saw that, he took me in his arms again and soothed me like a child, soothed me even in the midst of his own terrible anguish. My tears gave me relief, and when I could speak I gasped out, 'How did it happen? when, were?' Dudley's brow contracted but he forced himself to speak. 'A railway accident — a collision— death almost instantaneous ! thank Heaven at least for that.' 'How do you know?' I laid my hands on his breast heavily. 'There might be some mistake ; who identified, who saw him?' ' I did. Oh, Nell, don't ask me, don't speak of it, so changed so pitiably mutilated, so — ' and then he broke down and laid his head in my lap, and for a long long time we wept together. Yet while I writhed beneath this heavy unforeseen calamity, the mere presence of Dudley and the sight of his greater grief calmed and strengthened me ; and though the bitter tears still flowed, the tension of my heart seemed relaxed. If my grief were great, his was greater still, for on him devolved a new and awful responsibility ; in future we should have none to whom to look but to him — father now as well as brother, our sole support and head. Thank Heaven, I remembered all this ; it strengthened me. I raised his poor head from my lap, and in a whisper bade him rise ; then I went into the other room, and though the sight of the bright supper-table, the light and the flowers and the little festive preparations made me :T-: NELLIES MEMORIES. shudder and turn cold, I would not give way, but got bread and wine and brought them to Dudley, and putting the latter to his lips made him take some. ' They will be in directly,' I whispered, ' Louie and Bruce.' Dudley put down his glass. ' I can't tell them, Nellie, I can't, something rises and chokes me when I try to speak of it ; what shall we do ? ' ' No need to tell them, dear Dudley, oh, no need ; your face and mine will speak to them enough. Hark ! is not that their ring ?' It was ; we could hear the opening of the hall door and the sweep of Louie's silk skirts across the passage, her cheery voice and Bruce's answering laugh, and they entered, as I knew they would, radiant and smiling. 'What ! father not here? naughty man, he has punished us then and gone to bed. Do you think he is still awake, Nellie ? may I go to him ?' Dudley sank back in his chair with a groan, and covered his face, and, scarcely knowing what I did, I threw up my hands with a wild gesture for silence, and then they saw my face; and as they did so, all Louie's happy bloom faded ; while Bruce, impatiently putting her aside, exclaimed — 'What has happened? good heavens ! will nobody speak? Do you wish me to go mad, Dudley ? Nellie, will one of you open your lips?' I laid my hand on Dudley to keep him silent, then in a voice that did not sound like mine, but like somebody else's speaking at a distance, I told them all ; and when I had finished Bruce was kneeling down by my little table with his face hidden in his hands ; while Louie, giving me a long look of agony, turned and left the room. I sat down on the floor and hid my face against Dudley's knee, and for a long time we remained thus, till one of the servants came in to ask if she should fasten up the house. Dudley answered her — ' Yes Hester, shut up, and all of you go to bed ;' then lifting me from the ground — ' Nell, you must go to bed too, and try and get some sleep ; we shall be having you ill next, and then what will become of us?' ' Can I not stay a little longer with you?' I pleaded. ' No,' he answered, in those firm quiet tones of his ; ' I want to speak to Bruce, you must leave us alone together. Good-night, Nellie darling.' So I went, but before I closed the door I looked back : Dudley was kneeling with his arm round his brother, and Bruce's wild grief seemed hushed. NELLIE'S MEMORIES. ^ 27 CHAPTER IV. ' There is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead Iamb is there ; There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair.' — Longfellow. Do you know what is more intolerable than the first hours of a great sorrow ? I will tell you. It is the first waking up after it and finding it all true. Alas ! I know it, I have realised it, and I know that calamity comes on one at first with a stunning force — its very weight and intensity seems to deaden its anguish. We say over and over again to ourselves that it is impossible, we must dream it ; and still weeping on in our agony, we say, ' God help us, that it is not so.' And then sleep comes and lulls us into oblivion, or cheats us into delusive dreams ; so that we smile, poor fools, ay, smile while our dead are lying under that straight white sheet in the room below, till we wake and find they are really no longer with us, that it is all no ghastly dream, but a living reality. Oh, the awful- ness of that waking ; when even before the heavy-lidded eyes open to the light of day, while yet in a transition state between sleeping and waking, we are conscious somehow of an oppressive weight, a sense of something wrong ; and then the truth rushes upon us, and we turn our faces to the wall in the utter helplessness of despair ! But I did not turn my face to the wall on that sad waking of mine ; I could not lie with the cool morning air blowing over my face, and the birds singing in the garden below, and weep my heart out with the sad contrast of my thoughts. Not mine could be such luxury of sorrow ; I must be up and doing, the household must be told the heavy tidings — that at least should be spared Dudley. So I arose, but never did dressing seem such tedious labour to my trembling hands ; again and again I had to pause and struggle against the faintness that kept creeping over me, or shake off the icy chills that threatened to fetter my limbs. Down in the orchard below a thrush was carolling his morning song, and on the dewy lawn there lay the shimmer and sparkle of the bright June sun, while far beyond in the meadows I could hear the damp cool rustle of the mowers' scythes in the grass : such a sweet calm hour for a heart at rest. But for me ! I turned away from the window wearily, and at that moment there came a low tap at my door. I knew who it was, for I remembered I had told Charlie to bring his lessons to recite to me as soon as he was dressed ; so I bade him enter, without hesitation. ' May I come in and say my lessons, sister ? I know them all quite perfectly except one, where I can't pronounce the names ;' then, as he caught sight of my face — * What's the matter, Nellie ? are you ill V For reply I stretched 28 NELLIES MEMORIES. out my arms to him, and as the little fellow sprang into them, and nestled his curly head upon my shoulder, I told him guardedly and gently what had happened, and why he found me weeping. He was quite still for a minute or two, and then began kissing my neck and stroking my face like a child. ' Poor Nell, poor Nell.' ' Poor Charlie, too,' I said through my tears, ' for you will miss father too ! ' 'Yes, but not so much as you will, Nellie ; you have known him so much longer than I have, for I am but a little boy, you know ; besides, I have Dudley and you to take care of me, but who will take care of you ?' ' We must do that for each other ; but, O Charlie, Charlie, think what it will be never to look upon his dear face again, never to hear his kind tones, his merry, gentle voice.' 'Hush, don't cry so, Nell; we shall meet him in heaven, shall we not ?— father and mother, too. Don't you remember what you told me about the golden gate?' ' No, Charlie ; what did I say ? ' _ 'Oh, you told us a great deal about the great door with its shining golden leaves, which always stands open, and is never to be shut till after the Judgment-day ; and where, as people went up the ladder— good people, you know, like father and mother— their friends waited for them at the top, and helped them up and took them into the city. You told us about it when little Christian died, and when Halcot and I were so sorry.' ' Yes, I remember ; and, oh, my child, we must try and live so that we may meet him there ; and though dear father has gone v/ithout one word of farewell, without leaving his dying wishes, you and I must think what they would have been had he been spared to speak them. We must try and imagine what he would have said to each one of us, the youngest as well as the oldest ; oh, Charlie ! ' Charlie raised his large, innocent eyes to my face with a look that reminded me of a picture I had seen of the child SamueL ' I think I know what he would have said to me.' ' What, my pet ? ' ' He would have told me to be a good boy, and to mind what Dudley and you say to me, and not to be naughty and always in mischief, as I have been, but more obedient and thoughtful.' Ah, if you would, you do not know how it would lighten our daily load, how it would give pleasure, even in our saddest hours, to find our little Charlie grown a better and more thoughtful boy.' 'Would it, Nellie— would it really? Does my naughtiness, then, grieve you so much ?' ' You little know how much or how unhappy it makes me to see you, my child, so often punished, so often in trouble.' ' Oh, I won't make you unhappy, I won't vex you any more ; oh, NELLIES MEMORIES. 29 dear, dear Nell, I won't indeed.' And Charlie threw his arms round my neck. ' I will always be good, always, always ! ' ' God grant that you may, my darling ; and, now I have not said my prayers this morning, shall we say them together?' So side by side we knelt, his little hand holding mine tightly ; and when we rose I felt more strengthened for the duties of the day. That instant there came an impatient knock at the door, and Halcot's voice querulously demanding admittance. ' I say, Nell, the buttons are come clean off my wristbands, and nurse won't sew them on because she is bathing Rill, and how in the world am I to get dressed ? ' ' Come in, Halcot.' He entered in a semi-apologetic manner. ' I am sorry to disturb you ; but I have my Latin exercise to write, and there 's not another shirt in the drawer, and I must go down. It is an awful shame, nurse's buttons always fly off like squibs on the fifth of November. Hallo ! what's the matter, Nellie ? Is Charlie naughty again?' I told him hastily and in as few words as possible what had befallen us ; but we none of us knew the loving heart and sensitive nature of our Halcot, rough schoolboy as we thought him ; and when I saw him turn sick and pale, and sink down half-fainting by the bed, I knew — Heaven forgive me ! — that I had blurted out the truth too hastily ; that I had spared myself, not him. I laid him on my bed directly ; and while Charlie stood looking sorrowfully at his brother's white face, I bathed his forehead and chafed his cold hands till he came to a little, and opened his eyes and looked at me, and then he turned his face to the wall and began moaning piteously. I felt terribly frightened, and at first thought of sending for Dudley, only I could not bear to harass him further ; and Louie, I knew, was at the bottom of the garden. So I could do nothing but sit beside him holding his hand and listening to his moans. All soothing seemed vain for some time, and I was dreading some lasting injury would result from the shock, when he presently grew calmer, and then an idea occurred to me. ' I must go down and make the breakfast now, dear Halcot, but I will not leave you alone ; shall I send for Seymour ? ' A faint smile passed over the boy's face — ' Please, Nellie.' ' Well then, dear, lie still ; stay, let me put this pillow more comfortably under your head. Be sure you do not move, and I will send you up some breakfast directly.' ' Wait a moment, Nellie,' holding me back, ' don't let Dudley and Bruce know that I was such an ass as to do this sort of thing — faint, I mean ; you won't tell them, will you, Sis. ? ' Oh, Halcot, with such pride and such a tender womanish heart ! I promised him faithfully I would not, and then he let me go. I sent a lad to the parsonage to say I wanted Seymour directly, and while waiting for him I gave Hester to understand what had happened ; and before I had done speaking to her Seymour came 30 NELLIES MEMORIES. in. I never loved the boy so well as I did that morning ; his deep sympathy expressed more in looks than words ; his mute caress and his anxiety to spare me unnecessary pain of detail, all touched me to the heart ; and when I took him up to poor Halcot, it was more affecting still ; for Seymour lay down on the bed beside his old schoolmate and put his arm round him, and literally ' wept over him.' I turned away with a heart that was full to bursting and took my seat behind the tea-urn, dreading each fresh arrival, and fearing to see the change that last night might have wrought in each one's face. Sitting there, I became aware of a little scene being enacted at the other end of the room, which at any other time would most certainly have provoked a smile. Charley was sitting very dejectedly, poor little fellow, on a low stool by the window wiping his eyes with the cuff of his jacket, and trying hard not to cry, and Rill was stand- ing before him with one arm rolled up tightly in her pinafore, while with the other she administered several smart slaps and cuffs to him, every now and then, running away a few paces, and then returning to administer some more. A much harder blow than usual arrested my attention, and I rose to interfere. ' Charlie naughty boy ; bad boy, Charlie ; Charlie very bad boy !' persisted Rill, red in the face from her exercise. ' Charlie is not a naughty boy ; I think it is baby that is naughty, to beat poor brother so.' Rill pursed up her lips decidedly ; ' Charlie cry, Charlie must be naughty.' A light broke in upon me. Rill had so often seen the boy in disgrace for some fault or other, that directly she saw him crying, she immediately thought it must be because he had been naughty, and took the task of correction on herself ; but when I explained to her that Charlie was unhappy and yet good, she took her arm out of her pinafore, and putting her thumb in her mouth, regarded him with perplexed and troubled eyes, till I bade her kiss and comfort him ; upon which she ran to him, and put her arms round his neck, and hugging up his head to her fat little bosom, commenced by- byeing him in her sweet baby voice, till I thought it better for Charlie's patience to call her off to the table. Louie was the first to come into the room ; she was very pale, but calm and self-possessed as usual ; then Bruce, looking white- lipped and heavy-eyed, and complaining bitterly of headache, which made him sit throughout breakfast with his hand shading his eyes even from the softened light that came through the closed blinds : and then Seymour, to fetch Halcot's breakfast, speaking and moving quickly and nervously to hide his embarrassment, and catering delicately as if for an invalid. ' Do sit down and have a cup of coffee, Seymour, and something to eat.' ' No, thanks, Nellie ; I have had my breakfast at home,' and with a cheerful nod he went. NELLIES MEMORIES. 31 And lastly, Dudley entered, coming round and speaking with his old voice and manner, not omitting the usual morning greeting, as the others had, but with a kindly word and look for each. Pausing for a moment with his hand on my shoulder to ask me how I was — but, oh, it went to my heart to see his white face, and the dark lines under his eyes that told of a sleepless night. He paused before sitting down, and scanned all narrowly. ' Where is Halcot, Nellie V i Upstairs, in my room ; he is not well !' ' Not well ! What ails the lad ?' ' I don't know ;' then forgetting my promise, ' a sort of faintness came over him when he heard— when I told him about it I was too quick, I'm afraid.' ' Why did you not tell me ? I will go to him at once. In your room, did you say?' ' Yes. Seymour is there with him, giving him his breakfast. Don't go to him, Dudley, it will only disturb him ; he is much better quiet.' Dudley sat down with a trembling lip, and then recovering him- self, pressed us all to eat, while his own food remained untasted on his plate. Once only he addressed his brother, who, with shaded face, seemed anxious to escape all observation. ' Is your head so bad, Bruce ?' ' Yes ; confound it,' groaned Bruce, pressing his other hand upon his throbbing forehead. ' Then you must give up all thoughts of going to the factory this morning ; I will try and manage without you ; go and lie down somewhere quietly, and Louie will find you her aromatic vinegar, won't you, Loo ?' ' I should be no good if I went,' said Bruce ; ' but it will be very hard for you to get through it all alone.' ' I shall manage, somehow,' returned Dudley, in his quiet tone. I did not dare say a word in objection, for Dudley was not one who liked to be interfered with in what he considered a matter of duty ; and unfit as he was for the wearying details of that trying day, his will alone was sufficient to carry him steadily through. At that moment, breakfast being over, Charlie, as was his wont, placed the books before him. I saw him start and flush up for an instant, and make a movement as if to push them away ; but then, recollecting himself, he opened them, only putting up his hand to motion Charlie from the bell that summoned the domestics. Oh, how I wished he would have spared himself when I heard the involuntary trembling of his voice over the opening verses, and how thankful I was when the brief psalm was read, and we had knelt down to say the old familiar prayer, ' We have erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep !' and then there was a sudden silence — an awful pause, and we knew that Dudley had broken down, and was laying his head on the book, and round the room there rose 32 NELLIES MEMORIES. a sound of stifled sobbing instead of prayer : ah me ! it was many weeks before Dudley suffered them to put those books before him again. When we rose from our knees he had left the room, and I dared not follow him. Louie was the first to regain calmness and composure ; she soothed the frightened children, and sent them out to play in the orchard, and then coaxed Bruce to come with her into the oak parlour, and let her bathe his aching head. ' I will be with you directly, Nellie, and shall be at your dis- posal the whole morning.' I thanked her mechanically, and then wandered aimlessly up and down the hall, trying to make up my mind as to whether I might go to Dudley or not ; and feeling, as all of us do once or twice in our lives, as if the mere burden of existence were too heavy to bear, and as if we must drop it or die. 'Hither shalt thou come, and no further, and here shalt thy proud waves be stayed,' is the fiat often of the merciful Taskmaster ; yet, when the dread tide of trouble surges up, laying at our feet one wrecked hope after another, we are apt to despair — to say there is no mercy in heaven, no hope upon earth — that we are sinking — until He sends ; He draws us out of many ' waters,' and behold, our feet are upon a rock. Sometimes we are called upon to sit for three days and nights in an awful darkness — ' a darkness that might be felt,' a darkness more terrible, more soul-subduing than the Egyptian one of old, of suspense, of fear deferred, of agony ; then we rise up, and behold, our first-born is dead ! But, ' at eventide there shall be light ;' not for long shall ' we grope for the wall like the blind ;' a merciful dispensation will not suffer us to be tried beyond our strength ; and we shall one day go our way saddened and cast down indeed, but not in despair. Louie passed once, and looked at me without speaking, then turning suddenly, came back and kissed me ; but 1 only wrung my hands and walked on. Then Seymour ran down the stair- case. ' I am going off to school now, Nellie ; can I take any message to Dr. Merton ?' ' Tell him the reason of the boys' absence ; but, Seymour, how is he now ? ' Oh, much better ; he'll soon be pretty right : Dudley is with him.' 1 Dudley !' ' Yes ; they are talking very comfortably. I've promised to come in after dinner and sit with him, as it is half-holiday, and then I'll get him out into the garden ; don't you fret about him, Nellie :' then hesitatingly, ' I must stop at the parsonage, and tell father and mother ; is there anything they can do for you ? I shook my head and turned away, and then I heard Dudley's itep on the stairs and sprang to meet him. NELLIES MEMORIES. 33 He came down very slowly, and taking his hat from the peg began brushing it. ' Oh, Dudley, don't go without letting me speak to you. Must you really be at the factory to-day ?' ' To-day of all days in the year, my child.' ' I know it is useless dissuading you if you consider it your duty to go, but you are not fit for it. Did you have no sleep last night ?' ' We talked till nearly two ; I dropped off, 1 believe, about five, but the waking was better than the sleeping, Nell.' I took his strong brown right hand, it felt limp and weak as a sick child's, and then dropped it with a bitter sigh. ' Will you never spare yourself ? oh brother, brother, can I do nothing to help you ?' ' Nothing now ; good-bye, dear child, don't fret more than you can help ;' and disengaging himself gently he opened the hall door, and then we both started back, for Mr. Egerton's tall figure blocked up the entrance. The sight of his kind familiar face made my heart beat violently, and I believe I was about to run away, when he stopped me, and taking both my hands in his, looked at me with eyes brimful of compassion. ' What, Nellie ! you are not afraid of your old pastor ?' then re- leasing me he wrung Dudley's hand without speaking. There was nothing for it but to go back into the dining-room with him, and listen to what he had to say to us. He did not follow us for an instant, but stood at the hall door as if looking out, but in reality brushing away the drops that hung on his eyelashes, and clearing his throat huskily, while Dudley leaned against the table, still smoothing his hat mechanically, his face working and quivering with pain ; and presently Mr. Egerton came up and laid his hand on his shoulder. ' My poor boy, you must not think I have come in this morning to mock you with any attempt at consolation ; no, no, I am not one of those that hold that in multitude of words there is strength, that ply you with texts while your hearts are breaking ! it is not thus that I would comfort the children of my old friend. My lad, I love you, and you know it ; there is not one of you that I have not held in my arms at the font ; I will weep with and for you, but not bid you be comforted whom He has chastened.' ' Heaven is dealing very hardly with us, Mr. Egerton.' 'Oh, my child, my dear Nellie, say not so; mysterious and awful indeed is your present dispensation, but we dare not ask, Why is this so ? Shall man be wiser than his Maker ? oh no, weep we must, but we dare not rebel.' As if Dudley understood more of the dark workings of my pas- sionate grief, he stretched out his hand and took mine. 'And now,' continued Mr. Egerton, ' I have come to work, not to talk. What can I do to help ? is there no one you would wish to send for, no relative ? ' 34 NELLIES MEMORIES, ' No one, is there, Nell ? ' ' None but Aunt Margaret, and we cannot ask her to undertake such a long journey ; besides, I would rather be alone.' ' She is right, we shall do better alone ; besides, there is nobody else whom we should care to have with us at such a time.' ' Grace sent her dear love, but her great affliction prevents her from helping others in theirs ; but I am at your disposal, Dudley ; I can write business letters and see people for you ; or stay, you are going to the factory, shall I accompany you ?' 'If you would, sir, you could help me with some painful arrange- ments ; but we will talk further on our way.' ' Good ! let us go ; farewell, Nellie, my child ; I shall see you again soon.' I watched them across the court-yard, feeling indeed thankful that Dudley should have such a kind supporter through the day ; and then, after looking in on Halcot who was quietly asleep, and Bruce who was nearly so, Louie and I went up to the nursery, and proceeded to our dreary work of reviewing our children's wardrobe and putting on fresh crape where the old had faded. And here I must remark, that it is well that at such times we are compelled to rouse ourselves from our stupor to attend even to such things as these ; for if we were to sit brooding over our grief with folded hands it would drive us well-nigh mad. Better the meanest task, the most weary trifles of every-day life, than this, ay, even while they goad and irritate us — anything, even the stated meal time, is a relief ; grief knows hunger, thirst, ay, and sleepiness too, and thank God for it. So all that bright summer morning, while the birds were singing on the trees as though they would burst their throats with their ecstasies of joy, and while the children wove daisy chains in the orchard below, Louie and I sat working, yet speaking never a word. Every now and then my tears fell so fast as to spoil the crape trimming I was putting on Rill's little frock, but Louie never wept or spoke, but sat with her fair face white and passionless as marble. As the news passed through the little town many sympathizing callers left cards and kind condolences at our door ; Belle Thornton called and begged to see Louie, but was refused. 'Bring up no more messages, Hester,' I said at length, 'and tell every one that asks that we are as well as can be expected.' When she had shut the door I broke out into nervous tears, ' Oh Louie, why cannot they let us alone ? what good do all their enquiries do us ? ' They mean it kindly, I suppose,' she answered in a weary voice. 1 Hark ! the factory bell is ringing, let us go down.' So down we went, Halcot came out of his room as we passed, looking pale and weak, and came with us. Bruce was still asleep ; Dudley only appeared when, h-pjf the dinner was over, and then went out again directly. NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 35 As soon as the miserable meal was despatched we went back to our work ; little Rill toddled after us and sat at our feet, every now and then beguiling a smile with her winsome ways. Oh how slowly those bright summer hours wore away, how wearily the day lagged on to its close ! till the factory bell sounded again, and then the familiar click of the door, at the sound of which I rose and went down-stairs. Dudley met me on the threshold. ' Give me a cup of tea, Nellie, quick, or milk, or something,' and then threw himself down in an easy-chair. ' How have you got through the day ?' I whispered, kneeling down by him. ' I never hope to go through such another ; some of the poor fellows at the factory were quite cut up, and cried like children when we told them. " Such a good master," they said, " we shall never have such another." 1 tell you, Nellie, if it had not been for Mr. Egerton I don't know what I should have done.' ' My poor boy !' ' Nellie, is the room ready ?' I understood him. ' Yes, Dudley.' ' Let all be in perfect readiness by eight o'clock, for it — it — the coffin will arrive by that time, four of my men are going to carry it home.' I shuddered. ' Then we shall see him ! oh, Dudley.' ' See what ? are you mad, Nellie ?' 1 Is it fastened down ? Oh, Dudley, you could not be so cruel as not to let us see him again ?' He put out his hand to stop me. ' Child, child, you do not know what you are talking about ; you do not, you will never know that which you are desiring to look upon. Bless God rather, Nellie, that all you can remember of his dear face was its smiling look of love at you ; and not carry about with you, as I must, the hideous memory of how I saw it last !' And then he broke down again. Oh what a shock his nerves mast have suffered before he could lose his self-possession so com- pletely ! When we were a little calmer the others came in to tea, and afterwards Dudley lay on the sofa in the twilight, and I went and sat near him ; I think he liked to see me there, for he put out his hand once to feel if I were near. Bruce paced the room up and down, and Louie stood in the window looking at the rising moon. When the clock struck eight, Dudley bade me ring the bell and summon the servants and children ; I obeyed him tremblingly, and we all went out. The last rosy streaks of evening were fading away, and the pale moon poured a flood of silver light through the open windows ; Charlie clung shiveringly to me and hid his face in my dress, and I do not know which face looked palest as the foot steps sounded up the stone court, and in another moment we could see the black pall that covered our father's coffin. As it crossed the threshold Dudley knelt down, and we all followed his example ; and 36 NELLIES MEMORIES. so it passed through kneeling servants and children, and was laid on the same bed where six months before we had placed our poor mother. CHAPTER V. ' What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had trained her pace 7 A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew; E'en the slight harebell raised its head Elastic from her airy tread.' Scott's Lady of the Lake. i LOOK, Nellie, how finely my butter is turning.' ' Bravely, Katie, it will be a rare crock this time ; why, you bid fair to be as good a dairy-woman as Aunt Margaret herself.' Katie smiles with an air of conscious triumph. ' She has long left the dairy to me, has my dear mother ; she finds it too fatiguing, for her arms have somewhat lost their old strength of late, so here, as in the poultry-yard, I am undisputed mistress ;' and baring her round white arm Katie resumes her churning and song together, leaving me to gather up my work and go back to the low dairy step where I was sunning myself. Where am I, gentle reader ? where but in the old stone manse, in the pretty Scottish glen I once mentioned, in Keith's and Katie's home? Sunnyside, with its grass lane and broad low meadows, is more than a hundred miles away, and a far different scene lies before me. I am looking out on a steep little lawn, girdled by firs and cypresses, at the foot of which runs a tiny rivulet chafing and brawling among its boulders, now forming deep still pools for the trout to lie in, and now foaming into miniature cascades, where the bare-legged callants love to dabble ; and beyond, far as eye can reach, is the glorious Scottish moor. Yes, we are here, Dudley and I and our little Rill, and yonder he stands out in the middle of the stream on a little rocky island, trout-fishing, his pet sport ; and somewhere in the recesses of the old house, probably in the still-room with Aunt Margaret, I can hear the babbling voice of Rill. It is just three months since we stood round our father's grave, and it seems as many years. Brief shall be my record of those months — brief, because even after this long lapse of time I feel it painful to dwell upon them, and also because no words are adequate to describe the utter desolation of our home. The first thing that roused me from my listless brooding was when Dr. Waldegrave, our old physician and friend, came into the room where Keith and I were sitting — for Keith had been with us frequently during that weary time— and told us that Dudley must have instant change of NELLIES MEMORIES. 37 air and scene, as his nerves were fearfully shattered ; and that two months or so in Scotland or at the seaside, were not only needful but imperative. Then Keith made me promise that we would come to the manse, and as since the hour of her birth my baby sister had never been absent from me for more than a few days, we brought her too. But four days, and already a faint colour is returning to Dudley's worn face, and a little of the old elasticity to his step and voice. Keith is such a cheerful, pleasant companion ; and as for Katie, why, she is just bonnie. I should like to describe her as she stands at her churn, with the sun giving warm ruddy lights to her brown hair ; but somehow it is not easy to describe Katie. She is neither pretty nor handsome, ' nothing but a freckled Scotch lassie,' as her brother calls her ; yet I think that Keith would agree with me in thinking she had the most winsome loving face in the world. Such a bright good face, just fair enough to be pleasant, with honest eyes like her brother's ; but Keith is handsome, and Katie is not. One charm she possesses, and to my mind the best a woman can have next to being ' of a fair countenance,' and that is a sweet low voice ; sweet alike in speaking and singing, and this voice is Katie's gift. At this moment the churn ceased, and Katie, taking up a grey stocking she seemed interminably knitting, came and sat down beside me. ' Nellie, you and I have not had one long talk together, and you have been here four whole days.' ' Whose fault is that, Katie ? If you will always be pottering about in still-room, dairy, and kitchen, on hospitable thoughts intent, and leave me to Keith and Dudley for amusement, you cannot expect much of my conversation.' Katie pouted. ' It is mother's fault, not mine ; goodness knows there is nothing in the house good enough to be set before her favourite nephew : what a fuss she makes over the laddie, to be sure ! It is, " Dudley likes girdle cakes ; Kitty, you must run and bake some for tea ;" or, " the poor fellow would like a glass of warm milk and some scones for his lunch," and so on from morning till night ;' and here Katie glanced up under her eyelashes, hoping to procure a warm retort, but meeting my gratified smile, went on — ' Do you notice he has the best patchwork quilt in his room, the one lined with lavender satin ; I tried hard to get it for you, but mother said, " Nellie never minds what she has, I am sure she would like her brother's room to look nice."' ' Aunt Margaret is perfectly right,' I replied ; ' but speaking of Dudley, do you find him much altered since you saw him at Sunny- side seven years ago ? ' ' Seven years ! is it as long as that ? Yes, I believe it must be, it was the summer before poor Dorothy and Emma died ; I came to you in May, and did not return home till the middle of December ; it was a glorious six months, the happiest in my life. What were you saying, Nellie ? Oh, you asked if I thought you and j8 NELLIES MEMORIES. Dudley changed, did you not ? You, not a bit ; you were even then a grave thoughtful girl for your age, too quiet for our noisy games. Do you remember, Charlie was the baby then, and poor Frank was alive, and Halcot such a pretty boy in a braided frock. I think Halcot was my favourite, he was such a thorough rogue ; which is Dudley's?' ' Oh, Charlie, to be sure ; we call him Dudley's shadow, but I do not know if Rill will not cut him out, the little maid has such coax- ing ways.' ' No wonder. Nellie, I do like cousin Dudley, very, very much. I think when I was with you at Sunnyside I was rather afraid of him, and when I first saw him this visit he looked so grave and pale, that my childish fears half returned, but now I see with you and mother how gentle and good he is.' ' Thanks, Katie.' 1 And now about my playmate, Louie, — Queen Loo, we used to call her.' ' She has richly earned her name ; a fair imperial creature is our Loo ; people call her very beautiful, and I think they ar« right' ' She promised to become so even then. Do you remember, our old tutor, Mr. Arundel, used to call her his Saxon Princess ; and she was so amiable, I do not think in all those months I ever saw her angry or roused.' ' No one has, I believe ; Dudley says she is too indolent to take the trouble to be angry, but truly the serenity of her temper is won- derful.' ' Keith tells me she is a most loveable creature. But now I want to hear about Bruce, the handsomest boy, and the greatest tease in the world ; is he still as good-looking ? ' ' Quite as much so in his way as Loo in hers ; the girls in the neighbourhood spoil him dreadfully.' ' Girls ! why, he never could bear them ! ' 'That was seven years ago, and I can assure you that in the Bruce of to-day you would hardly recognise the headstrong daring boy, who teazed you in the school-room, and incited you to mischief in the playground, though I believe that under the quiet exterior more than a trace of the boy-spirit remains. You should see his moustache !' Katie curled her lip in disgust. ' Such a long silky one, and he is so proud of it, almost as much as he is of the cut of his coat.' ' I won't believe it, you are quizzing me,' and Katie waxed indig- nant. ' I will never believe that my old playmate has changed into an empty-headed fop — ridiculous !' ' I never said his head was empty, Katie.' ' It must be, if he be vain of a moustache or a well-cut coat ; and what were you saying about girls V NELLIES MEMORIES. 39 { t said they admire him so, that it makes him more conceited than he would be ; we must make allowances for him, Dudley says.' ' Don't tell me what Dudley says ; why has he not turned dandy too ? he has not a bit of humbug about him. Does Bruce like any of these girls?' Never was c girls ' pronounced in such a disdainful tone ! 1 What do you mean by like ? ' ' Why, love to be sure.' ' Love ! oh that is too serious a word to apply to Brace's harm* less little passions. I know he will go ten miles to see a pretty face which he will weary of in about as many weeks ; but I do not be- lieve he has ever loved seriously.' ' What was his last fancy, as I suppose you call it in the south ? asked Katie, grimly. 'His last? let me see; last winter it was Gertrude Manners, the solicitor's daughter, a pretty little fair-haired thing, but she ran away with a young subaltern, much to Brace's disgust ; then hg took up with Belle Thornton, and, if I mistake not, was rapidly turning over to her sister Ada ; but of course there is a truce now to such follies,' and I sighed. ' Worse and worse ; oh, I am so disappointed,' and Katie's eyes as she spoke filled with tears ; on seeing which the amusement I had been secretly enjoyirg at her expense vanished as a matter of course. ' Nay, now you are taking my words too severely, and sitting in harsh judgment upon them ; you must not condemn poor Brace so bitterly, for a few foibles which he shares in common with other young men of his age. He is a capital man of business, and has an honest affectionate nature, though he sometimes tries to mask it with a show of indifference, and he is generous to a fault. Often and often he is the secret almoner of Louie's bounties among her poor ; though,' I added mischievously, ' he stoutly refuses to carry the basket for her any time before dark.' Katie smiled half-satisfied, then changing the subject, proposed that we should go and seek Dudley. As we rose, Keith's head appeared over the low stone wall that guarded the manse garden, which he cleared at a bound, and alighted at our feet, closely fol- lowed by Snap, his Skye terrier. ' Girls ! girls ! have you been whipping up scandal with your syllabubs ? for as I passed the dairy wall just now, I heard such a babbling of women's voices as drowned even the noisy little river itself; and just look at Katie's hot cheeks, if they do not corrobo- rate me — confess, lassie, what mischief has the little evil member been brewing ?' ' Whisht ye for a fause loon, as Mother Jefferson says,' and Katie turned her sparkling face on him, full of mock anger ; ' give over pulling my ear, tease, that you are, and help poor Nellie across 40 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. those rough stepping-stones ; see how dubiously she is eyeing them.' Rough stepping-stones indeed they were ; full a yard apart, pointed and jagged, and slippery from the constant lapping of the wavelets over them. ' You do not mean me to step over these, Katie ?' I remonstrated, for there was mischief in her face. ' Yes I do, my fair Southerner — don't look so scared, or I will make Keith carry you across ; come, tuck up your dress, and follow me so,' and springing with the fearless grace of a young fawn from stone to stone she reached Dudley's side, on the large boulder they had named ' Stony Isle.' I turned to Keith in utter despair. ' I will stay here, thank you.' ' Nonsense, what a timorous little creature you are ; come, summon up your pluck, and give me your hand, both of them. Now jump ; that is right,' and so with what Katie termed ' one tremble, three jerks, and a palpitation,' I was safely landed at her side. ' Pretty fair for the first time, Nell ; before our six weeks are over, I'll warrant you will have improved greatly in grace and agility ; there, sit down by cousin Dudley, and I will recline at your feet.' ' But it is all wet and slimy, Kate, just feel ;' and I gathered up my dress in horror. ' So it is ; now, fair sirs, if there be among you a knight of the old Raleigh type, this little defect can be remedied ; come, that is chivalrous,' as Keith laughingly threw off his coat and spread it on the rock, ' now we are comfortable,' and leaning over, she com- menced dabbling her little brown hands in the water. At this moment poor Snap, who had been challenging us from the shore with short eager barks, put boldly to sea, and jumping on us, dis- charged such showers of bright drops from his rough little coat as to provoke universal disgust. Thrice was the shivering little wretch thrown back into the water, and thrice he returned, till incensed with our ingratitude and coldness, he made a short swim back, and commenced rolling on the grass on his back in a fit of canine fury, every -how and then jumping up to scratch himself and howL ' Poor brute,' sai>l Keith ; ' do you know, Katie, that little animal follows me about like my shadow. A short time ago you were his favourite ; but somehow now, I fancy his doggish instinct suspects an impending separation between us. Last night I heard him pant- ing at my door, nor would he rest till I got up and let him in. Poor old Snap ! I wonder whether you will be dead and buried when your master comes home again !' Katie ceased dabbling, and looked grave ; her brother con- tinued — 'Another fortnight, Dudley, and I shall be looking out on the NELLIES MEMORIES. 41 great waste of waters. Heigho ! time is passing rapidly, I shall soon look my last on these brave Scottish moors.' ' Not your last, old fellow,' said Dudley, cheerily ; ' recollect you are to come back as rich as Croesus from the El Dorado of the East ; and not with an impaired constitution as so many of the old Croesuses do ; better comparative poverty in Scotland than wealth and an enlarged liver ; don't stay long enough for that, my boy.' ' No, no, a thousand times,' echoed Katie ; but Keith remained silent, and his dark eyes wore a look of pain ; then suddenly rous- ing himself, and changing the subject abruptly, he said — ' By-the-bye, Dudley, what's become of Herwald Delorme all this time ? I never hear you speak of him : you used to be such friends. Do you remember our pleasure trip to London ? Herwald and you, Bruce and I — let me see, it was nine years ago — and my uncle taking us to the play, to see Hamlet ; what fun we had, and what jokes Herward made that night ; he was a pleasant fellow, to be sure. Have you seen him lately ?' ' I heard from him about three months ago, he was then in Cairo " unriddling the Sphinx," as he said, and learning hierogly- phics ; but we have not seen him for eight years.' ' Good heavens ! you don't say so, and you were such chums. Why, what on earth has separated you so completely ? I thought he was as one of you.' ' And so he was, from the time he first came to us a homeless, motherless boy, and won our hearts by his gentleness and clever« ness ; all those three years which he passed with us wholly at Sunnyside, he was as a brother to us.' ' Was that the pale pleasant-looking boy whose picture used to hang in the oak parlour' interrupted Katie, 'and who had left you suddenly the summer before I came to you ?' ' Yes, he was my poor father's ward ; he was his sole guardian till Mr. Delorme came over from India, where he held some office in the Civil Service. You remember, Keith, he arrived in England some two years before he was expected, in consequence of a large family estate falling to him — Hurst-hall in Whalley, Lancashire?' ' Oh, I remember hearing of that, and of Herwald's going away with his father, but he could not have liked leaving much, he seemed so thoroughly domesticated at Sunnyside.' ' No, poor fellow, he was bitterly cast down, nothing would con- sole him but a promise, that his guardian should visit Whalley the following year and bring him back.' ' Did my uncle go ?' ' Oh, yes, and Herwald did the honours of Hurst-hall most graciously.' ' Lucky dog !' groaned Keith. ' Unfortunately, the day before they were to start for Sunnyside, some wretched dispute arose between my poor father and Mr. Delorme ; he was a crochety old fellow, I believe. Herwald, in the 42 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. piteous letter he wrote my mother afterwards, said it was on the subject of politics they differed, but from a few hints dropped from my father I suspect it was on a more personal matter than that. Anyhow there was an awful row, to quote Herwald ; and not only was the poor lad deprived of his promised visit to Sunnyside, but any future intercourse with his old friends strictly forbidden ; a cruel thing, for the poor boy was most warmly attached to my mother and sisters.' ' What a consummate old tyrant !' was Keith's comment. ' Only on that one point, though ; on every other matter he was all that a doting parent could be. Herwald often said in his letters that his father seemed to have Aladdin's lamp, for he never breathed a wish that was not gratified ; and I know he lived like a young prince at college, and was an envy to the Cantabs.' ' I wonder he did not give his father the slip there, and run over to Sunnyside to see you.' ' In saying that, you prove that you do not know Herwald's character ; there's not a more honourable fellow breathing, I believe, nor one who scorns more to do an underhand thing ; indeed, he is scrupulous to a fault. Come to us without his father's knowledge he would not, but he always meant on coming of age to brave his anger, and mail? Vim his right to visit when he pleased.' 'Well?' 1 Well, he came to his majority some fourteen months ago, when his father and he were taking the grand tour ; and the day that his tenants were celebrating so festively at Hurst-hall was spent by the young heir by his father's dying-bed, spread in a wretched Arab hut at the foot of Lebanon.' ' Mr. Delorme dead ?' * Yes, he fell down in a fit oi apoplexy while riding on his mule. Herwald was awfully cut up' — here Dudley paused, and his whiten- ing lips showed the natural course of his thoughts. ' Of course, of course ; then Herwald is master of Hurst-hall ; truly " his lines are fallen to him in pleasant places," ' and a dark cloud gathered on Keith's brow. ' He seems in no hurry to take possession of his inheritance, though, but keeps loitering about in one place or another, as if making the most of his liberty ; he was ever an indolent fellow ; you remember his cool indifferent manners even in those days. Yet, his talent and aptitude in learning were wonderful — he beat you and me hollow.' Keith did not answer, only hurriedly raised his head and looked at me ; then, it all at once occurred to me what I had long for- gotten ; how in those happy old days of ours, Herwald and Keith were boyish competitors for my young favour, and how even in those early times I gave the preference to the stalwart and handsome Keith — and at that point, colouring painfully at my own thoughts, I asked Dudley in a low voice where he had written to Herwald last NELLIES MEMORIES, 43 ' To Whalley. of course ; he fixed the eighteenth for his return.' 'That is a fortnight ago, Dudley, and you have had no answer ? ' ' He may have directed it to Sunnyside ; I will wait a few days kmger before I write again. Hallo ! there's Aunt Margaret and Rill.' Yes, there was Aunt Margaret, her kerchief tied neatly over her pretty white curls, and her nice black silk guarded, in housewifely way, by her snowy muslin apron, and there, with chubby arms em- bracing poor dejected Snap, was Rill. Snap's paws and rough tongue, so different to Nettle's gentle ways, greatly discomposed our little maid ; so she soon toddled away from him to be followed and barked at and danced round by the grateful animal. ' Look, Dudley, in the water, look,' and Rill's outstretched finger formed such a tempting bait for Snap, that he grabbed at it, nearly upsetting Rill into the water in her sudden terror, and making her cry out. 1 Down, Snap, down, naughty dog ; never mind, baby, don't cry, brother's coming,' and Dudley leapt over the stepping-stones to snatch up his darling, and then brought her back in triumph to us, Rill hiding her wet little face in his neck, half in fondness and half in fear at the water. ' Oh, Dudley, how could you venture the stepping-stones with baby in your arms ?' but Dudley did not answer, for he was drying the tearful face with his handkerchief, and talking to her in his "oaxing tones. ' Naughty Snap, shall we drown Snap, Katie, for biting poor baby's hand ?' here Rill with a dubious whine held up an apology for a thumb, and moist with much sucking, to be kissed. ' Kiss the place and make it well,' chanted Dudley, not refusing the morsel ; ' now give brother another nice one, because his arm aches with carrying baby across.' Rill amiably complies, and then at her own request is permitted to wash the sore place in the stream, Dudley holding her safely by her chubby legs, till a further ablution of face and curly head being insisted on, the small washerwoman is lifted up to dry on Nell's lap. At this moment Aunt Margaret's voice sounds from the garden, •Katie, Katie !' ' Yes, dearest mother.' ' Did you not promise hot buns to Dudley for lunch ? 1 You did, mother, but I will come and bake them.' 'You spoil me, auntie,' cries Dudley ; while Kate, giving me a mischievous glance, as much as to say ' I told you so,' disappears into the house, and we all more leisurely follow her. 44 NELLIES MEMORIES. CHAPTER VI. •And wilt thou leave me thus. That hath loved thee so long, In wealth and woe amon^? And is thy heart so strong As for to leave me thus ? Say uay, say nay ! ' And wilt thou leave me thus. That hath given thee my heart, Never for to depart, Neither for pain and smart? And wilt thou leave me thus f Say nay, say nay!' Sir Tlwmas Wyatt. 1 Minister, minister !' The minister raised an iron-grey head from the book over which he was poring, and carefully placing a forefinger on the passage in hand, looked up inquiringly. A rugged face had the minister ; I never looked at it without comparing it, in my own mind, with a bit of granite wall with the sun shining upon it, such as one sees in the north of England ; and I am sure the minister's face, massive, strong, and irregular, with just a glint of sunshine in the eyes to redeem it from sternness, carried out the illustration. ' Eh, Maggie, what ails you ?' Aunt Margaret; laying down the cambric handkerchief she was marking, and smoothing with tremu- lous hands the snowy plaits of her apron, repeats her question with a sigh. 1 Mayhap ye'll go with the lad yourself, minister ?' ' So he has wished, and ye would not have me say him nay ?' ' Surely no ; what day does the ship sail ?' ' Saturday, the twenty-third. Duncan must take my Sunday duty ; as for thee, mother, thou must make up thy mind to part with thy boy some two days earlier.' ' How so ? does he not leave the manse on Friday, as arranged?' ' No ; he and I have business to settle in London, that whereof I informed thee, Maggie, a night ago ; and this morning he arranged to start two days earlier, did he not tell thee ?' ' Never a word,' and Aunt Margaret's tears dropped fast on the spotless cambric, though she vainly tried to brush them away ; ' oh, weary is me ; one brings forth children but to lose them ; who would have minded that our lad would put the ocean between him and us ? and he such a bright good lad ;' and Aunt Margaret fairly wept. The minister bent his head down to his books in silence. His was a strangely reserved nature, but I could see his broad brows knitting themselves painfully ; and, as if the thread of his study were broken, he soon rose and left the room, but first he laid a kindly hand on his wife's shoulder. ' Cheer thee up, mother, every cloud has a "silver lining," and in lime we may yet discern some good even in this, only have faith.' Curled up on the broad low window-seat of the manse study, and looking out on lawn and brook and sunshiny moor, I seemed to listen vaguely to what passed with a dim unconscious sort of pain. I scarcely dared to ask myself what the manse would be without NELLIES MEMORIES. 45 Keith ; but now a sudden pang brought it home to me ; would it not have been better to have refused to come, for these days of un- interrupted intercourse would make me miss him more ? Suddenly I started, for Aunt Margaret was standing beside me and stroking down my hair, while she eyed me half wistfully, half sadly. Arrest- ing the fair thin hand, which so reminded me of my mother's — though hers used to sparkle with brilliants, while Aunt Margaret's was unadorned save by its simple gold guard — I pressed it to my lips, for my mother's sister was very dear to me. ' Nellie, my child, how comes it that you are not out on the moors this bonnie day with the boys ? but sit sewing, sewing, lor all the world like a little mouse ; you are too quiet, niece.' ' Katie was busy, auntie.' ' That was no reason for biding at home,' and Aunt Margaret's eyes dwelt searchingly on my face ; ' you did not use to be so proper, child. When last you were at the manse, hours upon hours did Keith and you spend upon the moor yonder, till the minister reckoned that you would be lost. I like not changed ways and quiet looks, Nellie.' I felt myself colour up as I bent lower over my work ; Aunt Margaret rested her hand caressingly on my head. ' Nellie, love, tell me the truth ; are Keith and you quite as good friends as you used to be?' ' Yes, auntie dear, I hope so.' ' And I hope so too ; but it is long now, since I saw the light die out of my boy's face. Ay, child, you start ; but since Keith paid that long visit to you at Sunnyside, I have noticed a different look about him ; older, graver, perhaps a little sad. When I noticed it to him once or twice, he just turned it off with a jest, for he has a bright, bold spirit, has Keith. Answer me frankly, niece ; has anything passed between you and him ?' ' Don't ask me, auntie, please, for Keith's and my sake don't ; only believe us to be what we are at heart, the best and truest friends.' ' Nothing more !' ' Nothing more, auntie.' Aunt Margaret replied, ' Nellie, do you know what has been my dearest wish, since you and he were little ones together, ever so many many years ago ?' I was silent. ' I did hope that you would have been his wife.' I shook my head. ' It may never be, auntie ; do not think it, do not hope it ; Keith is going away, and I have my children and Dudley, and for the future — ' I paused ; ' for the future I dare say nothing ; it is the present we must live for ; oh, auntie, auntie, between him and me are my parents' graves.' ' Hush, my child, we will speak another time of this ; for I see my boy crossing the lawn, and looking towards us.' 46 NELLIES MEMORIES. Yes, it was Keith coming in search of me. I would have escaped if I could, but he had already perceived us, and hastened his steps. ' I have come to fetch you, Nellie ; it is too bright an afternoon to waste within-doors, so I have left Dudley to wander down stream by himself, till we can catch him up.' ' That's right, Keith, take her out, she is looking pale and tired with sitting over her work,' and Aunt Margaret left the room. I was attempting a lame excuse, which apparently fell unheeded on Keith's ears ; for he quietly took the work from my hands, fetched me my hat and scarf, and whistling to his dog, left the room, inviting me by a silent though somewhat peremptory gesture to follow. His was the stronger will, so I obeyed, and we silently went down the steep little lawn to the stepping-stones which we must cross to get to the open moor beyond. To my surprise, however, Keith turned aside, following the pathway of a meadow to our right ; then making an abrupt turn, led me to the narrowest bend of the river, where was a slight rustic bridge, roughly formed of a few planks with a rope for a hand-rail. Uttering an exclamation of relief, I was about to put my foot upon it, then I stopped. Keith watched me smilingly. ' Well, Nellie, never speak ill of the bridge that carries you over the water ; it is but a rough affair, I know, but you may safely ven- ture across.' ' But this was not here the day before yesterday, for Katie and I returned by this way from the village ; how came it here, who put it?' ' A very unskilful workman, I fear, for he has left a jagged nail in to tear the lady's dress ;' and going on his knees he wrenched it violently from the wood-work, and then came up laughing to show the rusty mark on his hand. ' Oh, Keith, have you really made this pretty little bridge, and for me, because I was so foolishly afraid of the stepping-stones ?' ' Nay, Dudley and Donald helped ; you don't suppose I am such a Hercules as to move that plank myself ; look, it is quite firm and safe ;' and he crossed and recrossed, stamping as he did so to prove his words. ' Yes, I see it is quite so ; oh, how kind and thoughtful you are, Keith, how very, very good !' The tears came in my eyes ; I do not know whether he saw them, but we walked on very silently for some time, till he stopped. ' There is a nice smooth stone, Nellie ; we will sit down and rest till Dudley comes up.' 'Why not go on to meet him?' I said, 'he cannot be much farther?' ' No, he is just behind that great boulder there, you can see the top of his straw hat ; but I do not wish to join him just yet ; I want to talk to you a little ; we shall not have much more time together.' NELLIES MEMORIES. 47 I hesitated, foolishly, I own, and in another moment a firm, quiet hand had placed me in my seat, and Keith had thrown him- self on the grass, and was looking at me with stern sad eyes that seemed to look me through. I was fairly startled, and hung my head, as I felt myself crimson to the roots of my hair. ' Nellie,' he said, in a tone of grief, ' in what have I offended you ? What have I done that you should avoid me like this ?' 'Offended me, cousin Keith !' I faltered, 'what do you mean?' ' Nay, it is what do you mean, Nellie ? where is your old frank- ness and truth, where your generosity ? Why are you for ever interposing barriers between us, putting yourself under the wing of my mother, or Katie, or Dudley, as if you feared to trust yourself alone with me — with me, your old playmate, cousin, and friend ? Ah, I can read your thoughts, this very minute you are longing and watching for Dudley to appear and break up what you consider an embarrassing tete-h-titej nay, you cannot deny it, you know you have invented a hundred pretexts to prevent this happening : but mine was the stronger will, and it prevailed, and now what is it you fear from me ? speak plainly, and tell me.' ' Oh, Keith, don't be so bitter, you know I never meant to hurt your feelings ; only I thought it better to — to—' I paused in sheer confusion. ' Finish your sentence, cousin ; well, you thought it better to — what? to keep your rejected lover at a distance, lest he should dare to nourish any more presumptuous hopes, lest he should renew a slighted offer ? I don't think I deserve this at your hands, Nellie ; I do not think I have ever by word or deed shown myself to be any- thing more than a cousin or friend might be ; in this you have wronged me.' ' Spare me these reproaches, Keith : have I not sorrow enough to bear without your adding to it ? why will you so cruelly misunder- stand me ? you must, you ought to know such ungenerous thoughts could never enter my head ; how can you look and speak so harshly to me ?' and I broke into a fit of sobbing. My hands were taken down from my face not ungently ; and then Keith said in a voice that was changed and kind — ' Forgive me, my dear cousin. I spoke roughly to you just now ; I had no right to grieve you, but if you know how I suffer at the thought of leaving you, it is sometimes more than I can bear.' Then in a low tender tone — ' My child, do you think I would add a feather's weight to your trouble ? I was angry, hurt, wounded just now, but you need not fear me again.' I put my hand in his without speaking, and for a little while we were silent ; when he turned his face to me again, it wore its old kind expression. ' Nellie, are we friends now ?' ' Quite, Keith.' A troubled look still lingered in his eyes. ' But I have not yet said what I intended. What if you mis- understand me, or worse still, refuse to listen to me ? for I am going 48 NELLIES MEMORIES. to touch on an old sore subject ; but I implore you to believe that no selfish considerations influence me in what I am going to ask ; nothing but the purest, truest desire for your good. Do you believe this?' ' Most certainly, I do.' ' I need not ask you if you remember a long conversation held some ten or eleven months back in the drawing-room at Sunnyside, for I do not think that it can ever be forgotten by you and me ; it was hard for you to speak such words, it was the bitterest hour of my life to have to listen to them.' He paused a moment and then went on quietly — ' You told me then that your parents were averse to a long engagement between us ; and you added that even did they give their consent to your accompanying me to India, that you did not feel that you loved me well enough to leave home, family, and country for my sake : I think those were your words.' I as- sented silently. ' I had been fool enough to think I possessed your heart, or else I should never have urged you to such a sacrifice ; and the bitterness of finding myself mistaken was great : but even then I believed you cared for me more than you yourself knew ; and that if it had not been for Dudley and your parents' strong opposition, that you would have consented : was I right in thinking this, Nellie ?' ' I have cared very much for you all my life, you know it well, Keith.' ' Then, if you do,' and his face suddenly lighted up, ' give me the right to call you mine ; let me, when I return home after these long years of exile, come back to claim you, my betrothed wife.' ' Cousin, cousin, what do you mean ? Am I not as much bound as I was ten months ago, ay, and doubly, trebly bound ? for the wishes of the dead are sacred.' ' You are not bound, the dead cannot judge for the living ; human life must be governed by circumstances. While your parents were with you, they advised and controlled your actions, they cannot do so now, my poor Nellie, you are left to your own impulse.' ' Which is to keep implicitly to what I believe they would wish.' ' Decidedly, and I think, speaking with all reverence, that were they now on earth, they would wish this.' I gazed at him wonder- ingly. ' Listen to me, Nellie ; while they were with you, you needed no other protection than theirs ; you were safe and happy under their wing ; and they had a right to forbid anything they thought would be contrary to your interests. But now you have lost your guardians- I have Dudley and Bruce ' ' Let me finish, Nellie — you certainly now have your two brothers, but in a few years they will take to themselves wives, and leave you alone in the old house, for Louie will not be long there and the boys will go out into the world, and then— then, it will be NELLIES MEMORIES. 49 pleasant for you to think that you have some one to turn to— and on whom you have a certain right ' ' I do not deserve this generosity and goodness, Keith ; what have I done to receive such love at your hand ? but I dare not accede to your request — I dare not ; my conscience forbids me. Alas, alas, how do I know what shall happen with these children about me? I may never be able to marry !' ' They will be my children as well as yours, Nellie ; we will watch over and care for them together.' I shook my head again sadly. ' You are a poor man now, Keith, and you must reap golden harvests indeed if you are to be cumbered with my family. No, no, leave me here in my quiet home, unbound, save by those old ties that have ever united us ; and if it be my lot, as you say, to be left lonely in the old place — well then — when you come home, if you still think me worthy to share your life, how gladly will I do so ! Will not this content you ?' ' How can it, when I think your scruples Quixotic in the ex- treme ? Let me refer this matter to my parents ; and*you consent to be guided by their advice ?' ' I cannot.' ' Dudley, then ? * No, no, my own conscience shall guide me in this ; Keith, you should not urge me so ; Dudley cannot judge for me in this case.' 'Who calls Dudley? because here I am' — and to our infinite surprise, he stood before us with his fishing tackle over his arm. ' What is the matter, child ? you look flushed and hot, and Keith too — come, what is it ?' I could not have told him for my life, but I clung to him and hid my face on his shoulder like a child ; the very touch of his hand on my hair seemed to tranquillize and soothe me. Then Keith spoke ; and when Dudley had listened to all with a grave face, he drew me closer to him, and kissed me ; and then I knew I had done right. ' I am sorry for you, old fellow, more sorry than I know how to tell you ; but Nellie has done wisely in this matter, wisely and well, and as I would have advised her. It is sometimes painful to do one's duty ; but one must not shrink from it ; she has had the moral courage to go through with hers. Go your own way, Keith ; when you come back you will find her ready and willing, take my word for it' ' My fate has spoken, I will abide by it ;' and Keith stretched out his hand to me with a brave, sweet smile. ' I have already waited seven years for you, like Jacob did for Rachel, and they were as nothing for the love he bore her, and now I must serve five more.' And as Rachel might have looked upon young Jacob's face, as 5° NELLIE'S MEMORIES. day by day he led forth his flock to the watering, so I looked on Keith ; and in the strong new flood of love and gratitude pressed my lips to his hand. As I did so I heard something like a sob ; and Keith had pulled his cap over his eyes and strode away. How very good my brother was to me that night ! We saw little of Keith during that and the next two days he was with us, and on the third he was gone ; and the last words he spoke to me were dearer than any he had said before. CHAPTER VII. 'Ail too weak for childish pastime, Drearily the hours sped ; On his hands, so small and trembling, Leaning his poor aching head, Or through dark and painful hours Lying sleepless on his bed.' Adelaide Anne Proctor. ' Letters, letters, and a perfect budget of them, — one, two, three, and one for Dudley,' and Katie's voice rang cheerily through the old manse. Dudley dropped his paper, and ran out into the hall to fetch them, and then came back to our favourite nook in the old window- seat. ' Let me see, only one for you ; stay, I kr.ow that hand — Whalley, Lancashire ; who lives there ? ' ' Henvald, of course, you little muff,' and Dudley eagerly snatched it from my hand. ' By Jove, I am glad the old fellow has written to me at last ; from whom are yours?' ' Louie and Bruce, and, oh, one from Halcot ; Dudley, you really must speak to the boy about his writing, it is simply dreadful. ' Dudley looked over my shoulder and laughed. ' Why, it is a good enough sort of hand, rather inebriated, it's true ; and certainly crazy with respect to flourishes. Come, let's have the home news first, Nell,' and he thoughtfully poised the black-edged envelope in his hand. ' And leave Herwald's as a tit-bit to the last, that's what you mean ? It is all very well joking the lads about Damon and Pythias, b it when one has glass houses ' ' Shut up, and read your letters, or hand them over to me.' Thus admonished, I opened Louie's ; it was like herself, kind, gracious, and pleasantly prolific of home scenes and village gossip, quaintly and happily rendered. A lengthy postscript however went near to spoil it all in my opinion ; it ran thus : — ' Colonel Grey has left for London ; he called several times at Sunnyside, in your absence ; and I may as well tell you, proposed to me before his departure. Of course I refused him, the man's in- NELLIES MEMORIES. 51 sufferable conceit left me no other course ; but Bruce seems unac- countably annoyed, and talks much of my having missed a splendid match, accusing me at the same time of having led him on ; the idea is perfectly absurd, though perhaps, after all, you may have been in the right, arid I a little to blame, but I never really meant it to come to this ; pray don't tell Dudley. Belle Thornton is uncom- monly cool and huffy. I can't help thinking from her aggrieved manner that she wanted the Colonel herself.' ' Oh, Dudley, is not this dreadfully wrong of Louie ?' Bruce seemed to be of my opinion, for after a few curt, business- like remarks, he wound up his letter by making an insufficient apology for his sister. ' It is certainly a foolish affair, Nellie, and annoying in the ex- treme ; Colonel Grey has a right to feel himself both injured and aggrieved, as I told the wilful child myself yesterday ; but as she seems tolerably penitent, perhaps the matter had better drop. Loo owns she is horribly afraid of what Dudley may say.' ' Dudley will say nothing at all in the matter ; such self-willed lassies must gang their own gait ; I never saw Colonel Grey, and shall not interfere, and as Bruce has encouraged her in cementing the intimacy, they must bear the brunt of the annoyance together. As I told you before, the Thorntons are not desirable acquaintances for either of them, they are too fast and headstrong by half, and Belle is my decided aversion, with her loud voice and masculine manners ; how Louie can tolerate her is past my understanding.' ' She is a very handsome girl, Dudley, and really very good- natured.' ' When it suits her own ends — faugh— don't let us talk of her ; what amuses me most in the matter is, that Queen Loo owns to being a little to blame. She may laugh at my old-fashioned notions in holding that flirting is a heinous fault ; but I will ask you what right has any woman to go out riding and driving with a man continually, accept his flowers, wear his gloves, and entice him by a thousand little winning smiles and graces across that mysterious border-land of doubt — which a man must cross before he dares to stake his all on a proposal — and then turn round and say him nay ? It is downright swindling, Nellie ! Let a girl carry true colours, and show her likes and dislikes in her face. Loo is a dangerous siren.' ' Yet a true-hearted woman.' ' Query, friend Nell.' ' Dudley, Dudley, you have a naughty determined twist about the corners of your mouth, that shows you are not pleased ; we will not talk of our home" Lorclie 'any more ; come, read the boys' letter.' The boys' letter, jointly compounded by Halcot and Charlie, was a mass of schoolboys' rubbish ; and save that Bruce was a brick, and boated, fished, and cricketed with them to their hearts' $2 NELLIES MEMORIES. content, contained little or no news. Dudley's brow smoothed over the lads' innocent prattle. ' Now for Herwald's/ he said, breaking the seal carefully ; it ran as follows : — 'Hurst-hall, Whalley. 'My dear Dudley, 1 Your second letter has just come to hand, your first, after vainly seeking me in Pall-Mali, where I have been staying some weeks in order to settle affairs with my solicitor concerning some complicated London leases, arriving simultaneously with it. This, and the knowledge that I have been settled at Hurst-hall but four days, must be my sole excuses. ' On reading the first letter, my impulse was to ring the bell and order my portmanteau to be packed, and in another hour should certainly have been en route for the South and Sunnyside, but your second, informing me of your stay in Scotland, obliged me to desist ; for how could I make sure of my welcome at the manse? and, though no coward, could hardly have dared to intrude myself there an uninvited stranger, so, though I am longing to see your dear face again and to grasp your hand, I must be patient and bide my time. ' And now, my dear old friend, what can I say, what ought I to say, after what you have told me ? how express my sympathy for your sudden and awful bereavement ? Alas, in great grief as in great happiness, words are barren of results, wholly inadequate to express our feelings and our thoughts ; actions, not words, must test a friend's heart — and I cannot come to you. ' But nine months ago, and news of your mother's death reached me in Switzerland, and now my poor guardian is gone ; oh, if I had but been in England, if I had not loitered by the way to nurse a selfish grief, I might have seen his cheery face again ! But how fruitless are regrets over a closed-up grave ! and how vain all I am writing now ! I meant to comfort, and do but mourn over a few feeble fancies. Pity me, Dudley, and pardon me, for I too have lost a father ; and fourteen months have hardly healed my grief. ' You have many for whom to live and work, and hope ; I, no one — not one on God's dear earth claiming blood and kinsmanship with me. ' My coming back three days ago was a mere mockery ; acres upon acres of goodly land, tenants crowding round and calling me master ; but not one face to bid me welcome home. I was but a poor fool, Dudley, but I give you my word, that when, sick at heart, I had listened to the long-winded speeches of the old steward and housekeeper, I just went to the old library and laid my head on my father's chair and cried like a child ; and now, resting in this same dusky room, I feel the shadow on my friend's heart passing to my own. Enough, you know Herwald Delorme, without further words. ' And now I crave a hearing — a hearing and a favourable answer ; NELLIES MEMORIES. 53 I cannot come to the manse, but you can come to me, you and Nellie (ah ! her good heart will not refuse me), and the little river, streamlet, brook, what do you call it ? — Rill, whom I have never seen, too. Come, I will take no refusal, the factory cannot want you yet ; let Bruce fag for both. Come, I can give you glorious scenery, bracing air, capital game, horses, dogs, billiards, any and every rural delight ; and the warmest welcome you have ever known. ' Mrs. Arundel shall care for Nellie's comfort, and the old blue nursery shall be fitted up for the little " river ;" surely you cannot refuse me ; consider my loneliness, and come ; come and renew the old friendship so rudely broken ; come and let each judge whether Herwald or Dudley be most unchanged. ' Write by what train to expect you, and I will be at the station to meet you. ' Remember me to your aunt and uncle Cameron ; best love to Nellie. 'Adieu, ' Herwald Delorme.' I had read the foregoing letter over Dudley's shoulder, for after the first few sentences he had finished it to himself. ' Well, dear, what do you say ?' 'That Herwald is a noble fellow, a downright brick — and that, if you think it possible, we will go and see him.' ' You are sure it will be right to leave home for so long ?' ' Our six weeks are not up till next Wednesday ' 'And Dr. Waldegrave ordered you two months.' ' He did, but I am all right now ; still, business is slack, and Bruce in capital working order, and Loo seems able to manage the boys ; what do you say, Nell?' ' That we will go, dear, for I see you are longing for a sight of your old chum ; but here comes Katie, let us ask her.' Katie proved to be in what Dudley termed her chronic state of hurry, and could listen to nothing ; and it was tea-time before our plan was laid before her and Aunt Margaret ' Go by all means,' was the universal opinion ; so Dudley wrote a long letter of acceptance, and Katie and I walked over the hills to post it, on our way to some outlying pensioner of hers. On our return down the village stfeet, Katie begged me to go to a Mrs. Graham about some work she had given her. ' She is a young Englishwoman, Nellie, and very reserved and pretty : I hear she has an invalid child. I have never been round to her room yet ; she lodges with old Marjory. I should like you to go and see them for me if you would, while I enquire how poor Donald's leg is getting on.' Katie had so rarely asked a favour of me that I could not refuse ; besides, I was rather ashamed of her knowing how timid I was of entering poor people's cottages : and how Lou-ie at home eould 54 NELLIES MEMORIES. never induce me to accompany her. Somehow or other I lacked the happy faculty of saying kind and pleasant things to strangers ; of patting curly heads, and gaining the hearts of slatternly mothers by praises of their dirty-faced babies ; and I trembled before the rough-voiced men for whom Louie had always a word and smile. Both Louie and Katie possessed the winning art ; perhaps Katie was a trifle more earnest, and Louie more tender, but both weretrua Sisters of Mercy, and beside them I felt sadly deficient in this Christian duty. Obediently then I followed my cousin's behest ; I knew well where she was going : the Donald of whom she spoke, whose frac- tured leg was the result of a horrible accident, was the black sheep of the parish ; a drunkard, liar, and poacher, who lay all day upon his bed of pain, cursing, swearing, and blaspheming, so as to turn those sick with horror who listened to his awful ravings. And she would stand beside this godless creature, and take his hand, and speak consoling and holy words to him ; awing him by her gentle- ness and goodness, and shaming him into very silence. The wicket at old Marjory's stood open, no one was in the little red-brick kitchen, so I went upstairs and tapped at the first door I came to ; no voice bade me enter, so I lifted the latch and went in. Such a poor room, so barely and yet so cleanly furnished. Some delicate needlework lay carefully folded on the round table, and I was stooping to examine it, thinking myself alone, when two bright specks of eyes peered at me from over the top of a high crib. It was the child. I went up to it and stood perfectly appalled ; anything less human and childlike could scarcely be imagined. Such a little white skeleton face, such deep dark lines of suffering under the wan eyes ; such an old weary look ! I touched the hot feverish hand. ' My little girl, are you suffering ? and why has your mother left you alone?' ' Boy,' was the sole response. ' Boy, is it ? then you are Mrs. Graham's little boy ; will your mother be long ? can I wait for her?' Only a stare out of the heavy eyes ; no answer. I sat down by the cot, and asked him again in a low tone if he expected his mother shortly. ' I want to sleep,' was the* reply, in a querulous sharp voice, and twitching at the bed-clothes with small bony hands, the weird crea- ture turned its face to the wall. I sat still and looked about me, noting the perfect cleanliness and order of the poor room ; the bare look of the half-opened cupboard, and the tireless grate. Presently the thing raised itself up with a little sigh, and felt for a rimless plate and tin mug that stood beside it : alas ! both were empty. 'Are you hungry or thirsty, little one? can I find you some- thing ?' NELLIES MEMORIES. 55 No need to ask, the wistful starved eyes followed me to the empty cupboard ; no fragment of bread, no sup of milk was there. ' Never mind, little man, I will see what I can do : wait, I will be back directly.' There was an all-sorts shop round the corner ; and in a few minutes the mug was filled with new milk, and a fresh roll crumbled into it. The child ate like a hungry cub, and then asked for more, every now and then saying gravely, ' Very good, lady ; very good indeed.' When he had finished, I said — ' My boy, now that I have given you a nice supper, will you not be friends with me, and let us talk a little ? I should like to know your name.' ' Hennie.' ' Well, Hennie, you seem very dull lying here alone, should you like me to bring you a pretty toy to amuse you when I next come ?' A faint smile stole over the wan face, then in an eager whisper — ' I have a doll, look here,' and groping under his pillow, he triumphantly produced his treasure. Such a doll ! such a wooden battered old creature, deprived of a leg and arm : and all the black and ruddy paint worn off by frequent ablutions. Yet this hideous stump was the joy of Hennie's heart ; to see him hug it to his bosom, and talk to it in his sharp little voice, would have been a lesson to many a nursery aristocrat rejoicing in their waxen dar- lings. ' I see you are fond of dolls ; what should you say if I were to bring you a beautiful one made of wax, with blue eyes and rosy cheeks and long curling hair ?' 'A lady doll, do you mean ?' ' Yes, a lady doll, dressed in a pretty muslin frock and sash, if I can find one.' 'Ah, I know,' he replied, in his eager whisper, ' I saw one once, such a grand lady, in a pink hat and green frock like a queen ; will mine be like her ?' 'Very like her, I expect ;' and with a little crow Hennie fell to embracing his old dolly afresh, and smoothing its rags with touching tenderness. Just then the door opened, and a young woman, shabbily but neatly dressed in mourning, entered, and dropping a curtsey, passed on to the cot with loving and troubled eyes. Hennie stretched out his thin arms yearningly, and as she stooped to kiss him and fold him to her breast, he laid his tired face against hers with a sigh of perfect contentment. ' My pretty boy, my own pet, how have you been this long time ? have you been wanting me ?' ' My pain has been bad, Lucy, very bad !' ' Has it, dear? and you have been bearing it all alone.' 56 NELLIES MEMORIES. ' Xo, I told dolly all about it, you know, and she was very sorry for me, and told me to go to sleep and forget it — and so I did, till this lady came and gave me some supper ; 1 was so hungry, oh, so hungry !' Standing there beside her afflicted boy, and lifting up to me eyes eloquent with gratitude, I think I never saw a sweeter face than Lucy Graham's. Little more than a girl yet, with her smooth round cheek, worn and pale with labour and privation, not to say with many a secret care, she still looked so young and fair that she seemed the boy's sister rather than his mother. ' You have been very kind to my poor child, ma'am ; it seems very cruel to go and leave him all the long day, and he such a little creature ; but I cannot always get work at home ; and we must not starve.' She lifted the corner of her shawl and wiped the tears from her patient eyes. ' It is not cruel at all, Lucy ; I am thinking all the time how nice it will be when you come back ; and what we shall have for supper ; don't cry, don't, it makes me ache all over ; open your basket and tell me what you have brought to-night.' ' Guess, Hennie.' ' Periwinkles,' cried the boy, his large eyes brilliant with ex- citement. ' No, not periwinkles,' and Lucy clapped her hands and laughed. 'Sprats, then?' ' No.' ' Saveloys, hot bread ? ' ' No, no, you will never guess ; look here,' and she opened her basket and showed Hennie a large slab of seed cake and half-a- dozen mellow plums. ' Such a kind dear lady gave me this for my little boy ; you never thought of anything half as good, did you, pet ?' ' Sit down, sit down directly, Lucy, and take off your shawl, you are so tired and hot, and let me see you eat ; let me feed you ; I have had my supper, you know, but we will make believe feast, you and I and dolly.' 'Directly, darling; I must speak to this lady, first,' and she came up to where I sat smilingly watching the little scene. ' Are you not his mother, Kirs. Graham ? why does he call you Lucy?' ' It is just his way ; he is only an infant, you see, ma'am ; and he used to hear my poor aunt call me so ; and so it has always been Lucy with him, never mother ; and I like it somehow ; for no one calls me by that name now.' ' It must be a great sorrow to you having a child so afflicted.' ' It is not the only trouble I have known, ma'am,' she answered in her subdued voice ; ' life is just full of sorrow.' ' But has he always been so ?' ' Always, ma'am ; when he was a baby, many and many a time NELLIES MEMORIES. 57 I would have prayed God to take him, but for leaving me so lonely. It is the old that should suffer, ma'am, not infants ; yet he is a happy little creature when the pain leaves him, and is very patient, are you not, my poor crippled darling ?' Hennie looked up from his plums. ' What are you talking about, Lucy ? When the little old man who stole my legs brings them back again, I shall walk about, you know.' 'What do you mean, Hennie ?' I said. ' It is just an old tale I told him one day to make him laugh, when he was fretting because he could not run about like Darby Jones, old Marjory's grandson ; and what else did I tell you, my own?' Hennie smiled brightly. ' Oh, you told me the angels would bring me one day a pair of snow-white wings that would carry me further than Darby's legs could carry him ; but they are long a-coming, Lucy !' ' Heaven grant it,' she whispered, as she pressed her lips to his hair, 'for I shall want a pair too, then, Hennie.' It was growing late, so I rose to go, and after explaining to her the work I had come about, took my leave, promising to return on the morrow. My heart was full as I walked down the village street ; Katie, who was somewhat alarmed at my long absence, was looking over the manse wall with Dudley, keeping watch for me. Both were deeply interested with my story, and Katie promised to go with me the following evening to see them. ' Look here, Nellie,' she said, holding out a small slip of paper, 'a message from the sea ; a few lines from Keith, dropped into a home-bound vesseL' I took it ; it contained but a few words, but it said he was well and hopeful, and that was enough for me. The following evening Katie and I went over to pay our pro- mised visit. Rill accompanied us, and to her was deputed the honour of carrying the promised doll ; which doll had given us the trouble of a long walk over the hills to the nearest presentable toy- shop ; and hah an hour's ludicrous uncertainty, owing to Dudley's being unable to decide between blue eyes and black ; and when that was settled, between a white tarlatan trimmed with blue, or a pink edged with white. The red face of the toy-woman grew redder and redder, and her fat sides fairly shook, as Dudley gravely pointed out the deficiency of chin in one and the insipid smile of another. ' Don't be so absurd, Dudley,' Katie kept saying, 'they are all alike ; take any, Nellie, he does not mean to choose.' 1 I do, if you will give me time ; you can't hurry these valuable purchases, can you, ma'am ?' to the grinning old toy- woman ; ' what do you say, baby?' Baby was as undecided as her brother, and selected first one and then another, and finally, with an eye to her own interests, urged the purchase of both. 58 NELLIES MEMORIES. 1 Black eyes and blue eyes ; no, no, Rill, the little boy does not want two. Perhaps, ma'am, we had better say the young lady with the fine colour, it will wash off if he does not like it.' So the doll was bought— Clementina Clarissa, as Dudley tried hard to make Rill call her ; it came out Clem-issa through her rosy lips ; and to the little maid was given the charge of carrying it safely to the sick boy. _ This piece of benevolence, however, cost us much ; every five minutes our steps were retarded by Rill's insisting to stop and have a peep at the blue eyes she coveted, or work her fat fingers through the knotted string in hopes of getting to her toes. Old Marjory was spinning in the sun at her door, her grandson Darby, he of the legs, sitting beside her scratching his red head over his lesson book. Hennie's voice answered ' Come in ' to our knock, and in we went. ' Well, Hennie, I have kept my promise and brought you your doll ; come, Rill, give it to the poor little boy.' But Rill was shy, and hung back, hugging up the large brown parcel and shaking her shoulders. ' Come, baby, come,' but baby would do nothing of the kind. Hennie hung half out of his crib perfectly fascinated ; Rill's rosy cheeks and curly head allured him more than a hundred dolls in paper. ' Oh, what a pretty little girl ! Come here, little erirL' ' Shan't, boy.' Hennie drew back saddened by the unexpected rebuff; and I was going to interfere, when Katie whispered — ' Let them alone, children soon come round with one another.' After a minute's silence, Hennie said, winningly — ' I have a doll, little girl, come and look at it,' and he held it out towards her. Rill's disgust at the mutilated scarecrow was highly amusing. ' Ugly old thing, nasty doll!' and Hennie, reddening, hid his darling out of sight. ' I've a much prettier one,' said Rill, defiantly shaking her curls over her eyes. Hennie was charmed at the overture. ' Such a pretty one, boy.' ' Show it me.' ' Can't undo the knots.' ' Oh, but I can ; come and sit on my crib.' The little lady graciously condescending, was lifted on to the bed ; and Hennie's thin fingers were soon working away at the knots. ' Don't look,' and Rill spread her hand over his eyes, while Katie promptly removed the covering ; Hennie's pleasure was speechless. Propping up the glorious creature with his knees he looked and looked his fill. ' Do you like it, boy? is it pretty?' ' Jt is an angel,' whispered Hennie. NELLIES MEMORIES. 59 'Angels wear white, not pink,' replied Rill, contemptuously ; 'it is a lady doll, kiss it?' ' She might not like it such a grand creature as that' ' Yes, she will ; ' and thus encouraged, Hennie pressed his lips timidly to the waxen brow. ' Funny boy,' crowed Rill, ' funny boy.' At that moment Mrs. Graham entered, and was made sharer in her boy's happiness, and afterwards Katie and she had a long con- versation together. Every evening during my stay at the manse I went to see Hennie and his mother, and as we grew more familiar her reserve became less ; and one evening, as I sat helping her with some work she wanted to finish before night, she told me the story of her life, CHAPTER VIII. * Had we never met so blindly, Never met and never parted, Had we never loved so kindly, \ We had ne'er been broken-hearted.' Burns. 'THINGS have not always been with me as they are now, Miss Mortimer,' and Lucy Graham glanced down at her threadbare dress ; ' hard work and the bare crust indeed have come to me in these latter days, but my youth was prosperous, yes, prosperous and happy. My father was a well-to-do-farmer in Hertfordshire, not a yeoman, but a farmer, feeding his own flocks and herds on his own broad acres, and every one for twenty miles round knew Pear-tree Farm, for it was a pretty place and well kept and tended. ' How strange it is, ma'am, that one dreams so seldom of the present, so often of the past ; ever since Hennie was a baby I have never fallen asleep without seeing the old place, oh, ever as clearly as I see you ; always dreaming of the old happy life, never of the care and the sorrow that came after. It is many a long year since I saw it, but it seems but yesterday. I mind it well ; a long low white building, with the pigeons tumbling and cooing over the thatched roof, with barns and outhouses, and well-littered farm-yard, the garden bright with hollyhocks and roses, where mother used to gather her lavender and tend her honey bees ; and the pretty honey- suckle arbour where Dorothy and I used to do our lace work. ' I can see it all, the blue parlour with its diamond-paned windows, looking out on the beds of lupins, pansies, and London- pride ; and the red-tiled hall leading to the dairy, where were the great pans foaming with new milk and shining like burnished gold. Or, standing at the lattice of my little white-curtained bed-room, I can see the kitchen-garden and the herb-garden with their sweet- 60 NELLIES MEMORIES. briar hedge, and the apple-orchard and the grass meadow and the pool under the alder-trees where the black cattle came to quench their thirst. Oh, the dear home place, with its humming bees and cooing doves and young white lambs, what would poor Lucy give to see you all again, but that is not possible.' ' Why not,' I asked, 'are your parents dead, then ?' ' Yes, dead ; dead ere ever the trouble came.' 'And Dorothy?' ' I will tell you of Dorothy,' she answered, and her large blue eyes grew troubled. ' I am going to tell you of Dorothy. I was mother's only child, but not my father's. When mother came to Pear-tree Farm to live she found a girl of twelve years old, the child of his dead wife, and that was Dorothy. I shall find it hard to speak mercifully and well of her, for all the trouble I have ever known has somehow come from her. She was an evil-tempered jealous girl even at that time. When my mother went home a young wife to the farm, angry at the new mistress, the new mother, she held herself aloof from her kindness and caresses, and sore was my mother's trouble in those days. And when the new baby came to comfort her, she could see no trace of softening in my step- sister, no tenderness for the little stranger ; and as the days went on, and I became the spoiled pet and darling of the house, so did a bitterness that I think now must have amounted almost to hatred spring up in my step-sister's heart. 'As I grew up I was considered handsome ; and as Dorothy, though tall and strong, was never anything but passable-looking, the young lads and farmers' sons paid me compliments while they slighted her : somehow this did not mend matters ; and many a taunt and angry word have I had to bear when father and mother were not by, and many a weary task imposed, that tried my strength, but which I bore patiently for my parents' sake, for they dreaded Dorothy's temper as much as I did. This she knew, and ruled us all with a rod of iron. ' I have said before that Dorothy's jealousy was great when the farmers' lads came as suitors to Pear-tree Farm ; but she might have spared her taunts, for I was always kind of shy-like of them, and cared nothing for their ways and their wooing. When Enoch Parsley, the son of old Croesus Parsley, as he was called, and who was favoured by father and mother, came round on Sunday evenings in his red plush waistcoat and spotted blue neck-cloth, with sleek shining hair, and brought me his absurd little posies, I always turned on him the cold shoulder, and, as often as not, when I saw him coming, would slip down the hollyhock walk and out by the wicket- gate in the wall leading to the lane, preferring a solitary stroll and a hunt for glowworms to listening to his clumsy speeches and compli- ments in the house-place. And so with Silas Underwood and Harry Marsden. Poor mother used to chide me sometimes and say that " lasses in her time loved to be courted, and did not use to NELLIES MEMORIES. * 61 hold themselves aloof from a trim wholesome lad when he came a wooing." Then Dolly would look up sneeringly with her cold eyes and answer — ' " Leave Lucy alone, mother ; don't you see she has set her cap higher than our poor wits would think of? It is not likely she'll look at Enoch or any other likely lad that will make her a good respectable husband, after Frank Thornicroft has walked his horse all the way from Wharncliffe manor ; it's my Lady madam that she'll be." 1 Which was cruel of Dorothy, and wholly untrue ; for though the young squire was always ready with his jest and word when we met, and, as she said, walked his horse beside me through the shady lanes, and often called at the farm for a cup of new milk and a chat in the dairy, it was only just because he liked to be doing something when he was home from college, and was a blithe bonnie- heatted young gentleman. It might have been that I should have heeded his compliments, but I had been once up at the Manor- hall, at the great bail given on the young master's coming of age, and had seen madam in her velvet and point lace, and master Frank dancing with young Lady Alice Travers, and saw the diamonds sparkling in her brown hair ; and somehow, then, I understood that between him and me there was a great gulf fixed, which neither could bridge with honour. And though he came up afterwards and whispered " that he would rather be dancing with his pretty Lucy than all the countesses in the world," I gave no heed to him, but just kept myself to myself. ' And right glad I was that I had not set my heart on the bright- faced young master, for ere another year was out the village bells were pealing lustily, and young Lady Alice came to reign at the old hall. ' About a year after that, a great event happened at Pear-tree Farm. Dolly was engaged to be married, and late enough too, for she was long past thirty, and was getting pinched and thin and more soured than ever. ' Dolly's suitor was an attorney in the neighbouring county town, a little shock-headed man with grey twinkling eyes that never seemed still. It must have been the broad acres of the farm that proved the bait, and net Dolly's angular figure and sharp face ; though what she could have seen in Josiah Beazley, with his leering smile and shambling gait, I could never tell. Neither father nor mother could bear him ; but they dared not oppose Dolly, as she seemed set on it. ' Somehow, mother looked worn and delicate in those days, the continued harass of my step-sister's ways seemed to weaiy her beyond measure. ' One early afternoon I was sitting sprigging muslin in the porch, and mother near me on the door-step shelling peas, when Dolly came creaking downstairs in her snuff-brown silk and new lavender shawl. 62 NELLIES MEMORIES. '"lam going to D , mother, to get some things, and I want Lucy to come too and help me carry them ; I can't manage alone." ' I looked at my mother in dismay ; it was a scorching day, and the road to D was full three miles and a half long ; and a dusty walk in the sun and Dolly's company was anything but desirable. ' " Had not Timothy better drive you in father's gig, Dolly ?" ' " No, thank you, ma'am, I would rather walk than be beholden to Timothy for anything ; so get your hat on, Lucy." 1 " It is dreadfully hot," I pleaded. ' " So it is, child," replied my mother. " She had better not go with you, for she is not strong enough to bear that broiling sun, and all that way too ; you know she is but delicate." ' " Delicate, indeed ! I should think she was, mother, with all /our molly-coddling ; why, the girl has nothing to do all day but nurse her fine fancies and save her hands. Delicate, indeed ! you ought to be ashamed of yourself, and father too, to spoil her so ; she will be fit for nothing soon. Why should the walk be worse for her than for me that have been toiling since dawn ? one would think her a wax doll to melt in the sun ;" and so on and so on, till by nagging and worrying Dorothy as usual got her way, and with a heavy heart I tied on my gipsy hat and kissed my mother. ' As I opened the little wicket-gate a strange feeling came over me, a reluctance to pass through that gate and follow Dolly into the lane ; and so strong was this fancy of mine, that I almost think that in another moment I should have defied her anger and returned to the porch, had not her harsh voice, bidding me not stand dawdling there but come on, made me hasten after her. ' " A foolish fancy," I said to myself ; but oh, ma'am, if I had stayed at home that bright sunshiny afternoon ! ' The walk to D was toilsome and hot ; and the endless pur- chases when we got there more wearying still. Dolly prided her- self on being a good market-woman, and as she seemed to think half an hour's haggling nothing in making a bargain, the business seemed interminable ; and when at length it was over, instead of returning homewards, she stopped at a dull little house in the high street, and knocked at the door, I resigned myself to fresh misery. No need to ask her purpose, for Josiah Beazley's name was on the brass plate. ' A slatternly maid with curl-papers opened the door, and Josiah, jumping off a high stool in the front room, which appeared to be his office, for it was littered with red-taped documents and heavy-looking boxes, led the way to a dark little back parlour with a drab paper, and looking out on the blank wall of a brewery. 'Josiah seemed delighted to welcome his bride elect, and then turned to me with many flourishing compliments, at which Dolly frowned visibly. Seeing this, the little attorney with many tender words pressed her to take tea and return to the farm in the cool of the evening, which, to my great relief, she declined, though I was NELLIES MEMORIES. 63 certain she had fully intended to do so, and had called with the purpose ; for I had caught sight of her best lappets pinned undor her shawl. ' In vain the little man pressed and implored, Dolly was inex- orable, being evidently in a bad humour, for some inconceivable cause. So the attorney was forced at last to desist, though, to test his politeness, he put on his hat and accompanied us to the outskirts of the town, where with many protestations he parted at length with his beloved. ' On leaving the house I had gathered up the heavy parcels with which we had both been laden, and followed them out ; but Dolly, in spite of my hints, showed now no intention of relieving me, but walked on grimly with satchel and parasol, and took no notice whatever. My arms ached dreadfully, and so did my head, and even when we had left the dusty road and turned into the green shadowy fields, I felt little relief. ' " Dorothy," I said, imploringly, " Dorothy ;" but she marched on ahead, taking no heed. ' We had entered a little blind copse ; at the end was a stile, and a row of pollard trees guarding a cool deep pool. As we came near, from the margin of the water where he lay, there sprang up a young soldier in undress uniform, who, touching his cap military wise, assisted Dorothy over the stile. ' From his clanking spurs and heavy cavalry moustache I saw he belonged to the regiment quartered at D . As he relieved me of my parcels, laying them carefully on the grass one by one, and then turning gave me his hand, I saw his dark eyes rest on my features with respectful admiration and pity. ' " You are sadly laden and look weary ; dare I inquire if you have far to go ?" ' " Another mile to Pear-tree Farm," and I sighed. ' " Another mile ! pardon me, but you do not seem fit for it ; may I help carry these ?" he spoke hesitatingly and with a flush on his handsome face. ' " Come on, Lucy, and don't stand talking there," cried Dolly, querulously ; " I never saw any one so slow as you are." ' The young soldier looked at her and then at me, and seemed about to speak ; then changing his mind and giving me a pitying glance, placed in my hands the lightest package, and shouldering the rest prepared to follow us. ' " Now, young man," said Dorothy sharply, " we don't want any of your interference, though you do seem mighty polite to be sure. I'll thank you to give my sister those parcels, and mind your own business." ' " Madam," he replied, reddening to the temples, while I stood sick and white beside the stile, " I will gladly give them into your hands, but not into this young lady's ; if you have any feelings see how unable she is even to accomplish that distance unladen." 64 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 1 " Well, I'm sure, sir," commenced Dorothy, in the high shrill key I dreaded, "well, I'm sure, sir !" ' " Oh, Dolly, Dolly," I cried, " don't you see I am ill ? give me some water, please ;" and as I spoke the sun now setting seemed eddying in a crimson mass, while the green fields heaved and rose and swam in billowy circles round me ; and when all was calm again, I found I was lying on the cool grass by the pool with the young stranger beside me bathing my temples, while Dorothy, now really frightened, was kneeling beside me chafing my hands. Her first words, however, were hardly more gracious than usual — 1 " Now, Lucy, don't be a fool ; make an effort and shake it off." Alas ! it was not to be shaken off ; even the attempt to rise renewed the sickening dizziness, and I was forced to cling to the young soldier for support. ' Dorothy took hold of my arm roughly. " Now, young man, as you seem to have a mind to be useful, just pick up the things, and I will help Lucy." '"On the contrary, ma'am, I was about to trouble you to see after them yourself, for this poor child I will take care ;" and without waiting for an answer he took me off the stile, where I had sunk from Dorothy's iron grasp, and lifting me lightly in his arms carried me off. I made no opposition, for I felt too weak ; and all that long mile he bore me, patiently and tenderly, only pausing once to rest by the way. ' " Am I very heavy ?" I asked faintly. ' " I should like to carry you to the world's end," was the answer, and he spoke no more till he placed me down in my father's porch, when, waiting for no thanks, he lifted his cap and went away. ' I was weak-like for many days after that walk, and as I lay on the couch in the blue parlour those words came ringing in my ears, which he said while bearing me so swiftly through the green fields : " I should like to carry you to the world's end," and every night that I lay down in my little tent bed I dreamt foolish girl- dreams of the young soldier. ' The first time I went out was to the village church on Sunday afternoon, and there in the free seat facing our large family pew he sat, looking handsomer than ever in his full-dress cavalry uniform. Dolly saw him, for she gave a toss of her head and a little snort ; but after two or three shy glances I did not turn my head again that way, for every time I did so, those frank dark eyes were looking full in mine. After that afternoon he sat regularly in that seat, and I never took an evening ramble without seeing him strolling through the lanes, or leaning on some stile near Pear-tree Farm ; but as a touch of the cap and a pleasant good evening was all he vouchsafed, my sense of propriety was not alarmed, for I knew that for a farmer's daughter to hold converse with a common soldier would be accounted a heinous crime. 'A common soldier, I could scarcely believe it ; for his chivalrous NELLIES MEMORIES. 6$ manners and low, well-attuned speech seemed to belong to higher rank. Enoch Barsley and Harry Marsden were not to compare with him in point of breeding, and he was better-looking than even Frank Thornicroft himself. In spite of this 1 would not own to myself that I was even interested in the stranger ; and though the quick beating of my heart and the flush on my cheek when I met him, should have warned me of danger, I said, Peace, peace, till there was none left for me. 'One evening a sudden storm drove me into Dame Martin's cottage, and I had just seated myself and was drying my gray cloak at the cheery blaze, when he entered, and removing his cap cour- teously to the dame, begged for half-an-hour's refuge. This being cheerfully accorded, he came to the fire, and then and not till then did he see me ; and when he did so he merely gave good evening, and taking the cloak from my hand, knelt down and held it care- fully to dry. The storm, which had showed signs of lulling, now broke out afresh, the lightning played vividly through the lattice and about the brown rafters, while the thunder pealed in awful crashes over our head. '" Are you frightened, Miss Lucy?" he said, turning to me with a bright smile. ' " Very, for surely it is a fearful storm." ' " Nothing to those I have witnessed in the tropics ;" and then drawing his chair closer, while the firelight played over his bronzed face and wavy hair, he told us of awful hurricanes and tornadoes ; and then growing animated, went on to speak of foreign lands and hard-fought campaigns, till we became so rapt and interested that he was the first to call my attention to the fact that the rain had stopped. I rose hastily, for it was late and dark. ' " Too late for you to go safely alone," he said, answering my thoughts, " I fear you must bear with my company." ' There was no help for it, so I acquiesced, and we went on, chatting pleasantly. He told me his name was Allan Graham, and that he was but a private in the regiment where he served. ' " Only a private ! but you do not look or speak like one." ' He smiled. " I have had a good education, Miss Lucy. I am the son of a well-to-do schoolmaster, holding a good position in a large town. He taught me with his other pupils, with the hope of fitting me to become his assistant ; but teaching was not my voca- tion and soldiering was ; and as he could not or would not buy me a commission, I ran away and enlisted. A foolish thing," said Allan, "and one which I have bitterly regretted ; for my father died before he had forgiven me my disobedience, and left all his money to a distant cousin." ' " What a pity ; oh, what a pity ! but it was very wrong to run away." ' " Very, I know, but my expiation is more bitter than my fault, and is lifelong ; and now good-bye, Miss Lucy, for here is the 66 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. farm ; and now, as you see we are of equal rank, may I offer you my hand ?" ( I gave him mine willingly, and we parted ; that night, I do not know why, I sobbed myself to sleep. ' The following Sunday I went to church as usual, and looked eagerly at the front free-seat, but he was not there ; and when afternoon came, and it was still vacant, a nameless terror filled my mind ; what could have become of him? After tea I was sitting disconsolately in the porch, when I saw Enoch Barsley and Silas Underwood coming down the lane ; and more disinclined than ever for their slow clumsy compliments, I fetched my hat and ran down the orchard, and on to the grass meadow and the pool. There was a little clump of elder-bushes at the far end of the pool, with a little seat under them, where I loved to sit and read sometimes on Sunday afternoons ; and I was making my way to it, when I heard a muffled sound apparently proceeding from that direction. I stepped cau- tiously and peeped between the bushes, and then my heart stood still ; for I saw Allan lying on the grass, with his face to the earth. ' In sudden terror I cried, " Allan, Allan, what ails you ?" and at the sound of my voice he sprang to his feet as swift as a dart, and drawing himself up proudly stood facing me. ' " What ails you, Allan ? " I said again, for his eyes were wet and his face pale and drawn. For answer he stretched out his arms to me. ' " Good-bye, Lucy, good-bye, my dear ; sorrowful be the day I ever saw your sweet face. When I am gone many a richer man will woo, and one will win ; but none, none can love half so truly and so well, dear, as the penniless soldier !" ' Then stroking the trembling hand he held, " I bless God I have seen your dear face again ; for may be I shall see it no more, for we are ordered away to-morrow, Lucy ; and I dared not come and say good-bye ;" and then again he stretched out his arms to me, and, forgetful of all save what he had told me, that I should see his face no more, I laid my head on his breast, and he kissed me twice and left the place. ' And so the shadow of a hopeless love passed over my life, and weary days and weary nights were appointed me, to be spent in fruitless longings for a face that I should never see more. ' " What ails our Lucy ?" was my mother's daily comment ; " she does not seem as blithe-like and pert as she used to be, but goes about the house drooping, for all the world like a little bird with a broken wing." ' " With a broken heart you mean, mother ; with a broken heart !" But a mightier grief was at hand. One night, market night it was, when the farm was still, and the inmates asleep, save the mother who sat knitting in the house-place, biding the father's return, our gray mare galloped riderless into the yard. In a moment the house was astir ; half-dressed sleepy farm-servants NELLIES MEMORIES. 67 went hither and thither with torches and lanterns searching the lanes and by-paths, and it was not long before they found him lying in the road with his face to the moon, and the blood welling out from a deep wound in his head. The dancing shadows had probably caused Gipsy to shy, and so threw her master, perhaps at that moment sitting unconsciously reckoning his gains with the bridle thrown on her neck, and then his poor head had struck against a sharp flint-stone, which had given him his death-wound. ' As they lifted him up and bore him to the farm the last strug- gling breath was drawn, and the gray hues of death settled down once and for ever. 'When my mother, standing on the horse-block straining her eyes into the darkness, saw amid the flaming torches the awful straightness of the form they bore, the light and colour died out of her face for ever. Slowly from that day, yet surely, following her husband's footsteps down to the place of shadows, she faded pain- lessly from life ; and one morning in the early autumn, when the laden corn-wains passed to and fro, and the children went nutting in the lanes and copses, they came to me and whispered that she was dead ; and so there were none left but me and Dorothy. 'Ah, those hard bitter days, when Dorothy went about and bustled in the house-place and left me alone to my sorrow ! There was no will, my father had never made one ; perhaps with the super- stitious feelings belonging to his class that it might hasten his death ; but of course the substance should have been fairly por tioned out between us. Dolly, however, seemed to assume the whole as her right, and talked of taking me with her to live when she was married — for, oh, heartless that she was, before the grass was green on mother's grave, she had given up the farm on advan- tageous terms, and prepared for the flitting. ' Life with Dorothy and Josiah in that odious little house in the high street was worse than death to me ; and when Dorothy told me her intention in her austere decided way, I rebelled for the first time in my life, saying that hers and Josiah Beazley's home should never be mine. ' This unlooked-for outburst on my part was followed by a tor- rent of taunts and sneers ; and at last with cruel passionate words she dared me to assert my will against hers. Alas, my weakness was no match for her strength, and at last, half maddened by grief and despair, I rushed from her presence and out from the porch into the dark chill garden. ' Down my mother's rose-tree walk, and out of the wicket-gate under the lilac tree, and along the damp grassy lane, I cared not whither. Blinded by tears I heeded not the obstacles in my way, and was just stumbling over a fallen log, when a strong arm caught and replaced me on my feet, and then turning my face to the uncer- tain light, cried, " Lucy, Lucy." It was Allan. As a drowning man clings to a plank, so I clung to him I thought never to see again. 68 NELLIES MEMORIES. ' " Take me away, Allan, take me away ; I will never go home any more, I will never see her cruel face again." tu Hush, love," he said gravely, in the low tone one would use to a frightened child, " let me hear what all this means ;" and drawing me to the log, he listened to my incoherent story, broken by bursts of hysterical weeping. " You have lost your protectors, Lucy ; what can I do with you ?" ' '' Take me away," I pleaded, burying my face on his shoulder ; ''you say you love me, Allan, take me away." '"Love you!" he said, pressing his lips to my hair, "love you ! ay, so dearly, that I can ill bear poverty for you." Then with a sad smile, " You a poor soldier's wife, Lucy, with those little delicate hands ! and yet how leave you to that merciless woman, with her hard face and voice to crush the dear life out of you ?" ' " I will die," I cried passionately, " rather than live with her and Josiah ; I will not, Allan, I will not !" ' And so at last, after many tears and many words, it was agreed that I was to meet Allan on the morrow, at a given place, and he was to take me to a friend of his, a corporal's wife in the southern town, where the regiment was quartered, and there to remain till he could legally claim me as his wife. ' And so before a month was out, I married Allan, and in spite of many a hardship and privation was as happy as the day was long. Though our room was poor it was very neat, and I was so proud to see my husband ride out on his splendid black horse to parade, and so childishly pleased with the novelties about me, and Allan was so kind and dear, that I never wished myself back at the farm. I used to eke out our scanty means by doing needlework for tl e officers' wives ; and they used to be very good to me and give n e little presents, and so for seven months the happy life went on. ' Our regiment was ordered to India, but as 1 was accompanying Allan, this news did not trouble me, though Allan seemed to fear the tedious voyage for me. 'About a week after this we had a letter from D that strangely and joyfully excited us. A distant relative of mine had died and left a small legacy to be divided between Dorothy and me ; small as the sum was, it seemed princely to us ; and Allan opened his eyes incredulously at the moment. ' The attorney who wrote the letter was Josiah, and he added a not uncivil message from Dorothy, to the effect that I should come up to D immediately to receive my share, and put up at their house. ' " What shall we do, Lucy ? I cannot get leave of absence, and yet we want the money." ' No doubt of that, for our outfit for the voyage was scanty in the extreme, and so reluctantly I made up my mind that I must be the one to go. * " You need not be longer than two days ; indeed, next week wo NELLIES MEMORIES. 69 mav have orders to put on board ; so three or four days are all I can spare to my little wife." ' " Oh, they are far too many," I said, and then we talked of ways and means, and then I settled to go. I was very miserable when I said good-bye to Allan at the station, and not much happier when I reached D . The little drab parlour was dingier than ever, and Dorothy more angular and sharp ; married life had not agreed with her ; for, if report spoke true, she had found a match in Josiah. ' Dorothy was rough and sharp, but not unkind, till we opened the subject of money matters, when I found she and Josiah had made up their minds to cheat me, if possible, out of my proper share. But brave for my husband's sake, I held to my rights, and insisted on my fair share ; and then Dolly's temper was roused, and warm and insulting speeches were heaped on Allan and myself, which I bore patiently, and then returned to the old subject — would they give me my own honestly ? No, they would not ; and when at last, seeing me stand firm, and inclined to call in other and worthier advice, they were compelled to yield, such obstacles were placed in my way that I was well-nigh in despair. Three days, and still half the money withheld ; four days, and then Allan bade me come without it, and instantly, for they had orders to sail. ' This letter had been withheld from me a day, more from care- lessness than spite, though I accused Dolly of the latter ; another day and the regiment would embark ; and frantically I rushed to Dolly, and implored her to have Josiah's gig put to for me directly. '"Gig indeed!" cried Dolly scornfully; "as you have come you may go back to your beggarly husband — gig indeed !" ' I pleaded again and again, but I might as well have tried to soften a stone ; and at last, maddened by her continuous ill-usage, I started off on foot, while she called to me from the threshold in her shrill mocking tones, " I sha'n't send the rest of the money after you," but I gave no heed. ' It was a scorching sun, and eight miles to the nearest station to catch the up train ; it was madness to walk, and with those bitter angry feelings tearing at my heart, but I did. Oh, ma'am, to my sorrow and trouble, I did. A waggoner seeing me plod on wearily offered to take me up, but there was a rough-looking fellow on the top, and I had money about me, and did not dare accept the wel- come rest. Oh, ma'am, it was a fool's gait that day, but I was little more than a child, and did not know the mischief it might do. ' Ere ever that long walk was over the old faintness attacked me ; some one driving rapidly past in a gig saw a woman lying in- sensible on the grass by the roadside, and lifted her up — it was Josiah Beazley. He drove me home, I was too ill to know where I was going, and ere many hours had passed my trouble came on me, and my poor baby was born. I was terribly ill for months and months, my brain was affected ; and when I came to know all abcut it my husband had sailed that very night nine months ago. 70 NELLIES MEMORIES. | Many a letter had he written, poor fellow, many a loving, anxious letter ; praying Lucy for one word to ease his cruel anxiety; but would you believe she never answered them, but just flung them on the bed, with the words, maybe I should soon be able to answer them myself. ' I wrote that night, and again and again, but I have never heard from Allan, never, never ! I do not know whether he be dead or living ; ' and here Lucy Graham broke down in a fit of sobbing. ' Dolly was sorry when she saw what she had done, but some- how it seemed hard to forgive her, so I just took my sickly baby and went to an aunt in Scotland, with whom I lived for some time. I have written and written, till hope deferred has become fear de- ferred ; my letters have been returned to me, and our colonel's lady, to whom I at last wrote, said in her kind letter, that Allan Graham had gone home on sick leave a year and a half ago. A year and a half, and had never reached England ! ' Ah, how can I hope that my Allan is still alive ! and yet I will never believe he is dead, never, never, till I see his cold face and touch his lifeless hand. Dolly and Josiah stayed in D for two or three years, and then they left. While Auntie lived we were comparatively comfortable, but things have gone badly with us lately. I have paid much to a clever physician in Edinburgh who hoped to cure Hennie, though he has been worse-like since ; and so, though I have worked and worked, we have gone near to starve, Hennie and I.' And then, overcome by her recital, poor Lucy knelt down by her boy's crib, and hiding her face on his pillow wept long and bitterly. CHAPTER IX. 'And one, an English home, gray twilight frown'd On dewy pasture, dewy trees ; Softer tn2n sleep all things in order stored, A haunt of ancient peace. . . . Full of long corridors it stood, That over-vaulted grateful gloom, Thro' which the livelong day my soul did pass Well pleased from room to room. Full of great rooms and small the palace stood, All various, each a perfect whole From living nature, fit for every mood And change of my still soul.' Tennyson's Palace of Art. That night I could not sleep. Lucy Graham's sweet face and soft plaintive voice haunted me, while the sad details of her story so filled my imagination, that I could not chase the painful images away, but lay brooding over them long restless hours. ' Truth is stranger than fiction,' I muttered as I turned for the fifteenth time my well-warmed pillow, and tossed the ftoatinp- hair NELLIES MEMORIES. 71 from my brow. Who would have dreamed on looking at that child- ish figure and meek young face, that such agonies of doubt and fear had been passed, such months of brain-sick horrors, such years of more than widowed loneliness ? And yet she can smile and play with her afflicted boy, spending on him such wealth of despairing love ; clinging to him, poor soul, as the one waif and stray spared to her out of her great heart-wreck. And as I lay and pondered, a great tenderness awoke in my heart for the young mother and child. I felt it impossible to go away and leave them to their poverty ; something must be planned ; and then a bright thought flashed across me, making me more wakeful than ever, and it v/as not till I had settled all the pros and cons of my new scheme that I fairly resigned myself to sleep. The next morning I secured an interested and willing listener in the old window seat ; and Katie and Aunt Margaret being sum- moned to the council, it was agreed that we should go that evening to Lucy Graham to unfold the plan, to which Dudley had given a well-pleased assent. It was our last evening but one at the manse, and Dudley accom- panied us, partly, as he said, to have a last walk with Katie, and partly to get a peep at ' Nellie's new hobby,' as he irrelevantly termed Lucy. Hennie was alone as usual, and was sitting up in his cot by the open window playing with his lady doll, the old stump being all huddled up in a disgraceful heap at the foot of the crib, with its face to the wall. ' Oh, Hennie, Hennie, the new friend cut out the old already ! Door Dollie in disgrace.' ' She's naughty,' said Hennie, in his shrill little whisper, ' she's jealous of the new lady, and calls her names, so I put her in the corner.' Then eyeing Dudley suspiciously, ' Who is that man ? ' ' That is my brother, Hennie ; the good brother of whom I told you.' ' Oh,' said Hennie, 'then shake hands.' Dudley, much amused, and more touched, took the wasted child's hand in his and patted it gently. ' Poor little man, we must be friends, you and I, good friends, shall we ?' ' Yes,' answered Hennie, gravely ; then decidedly, ' yes, you have a nice face, I shall like you ; but where's missy?' ' Missy is warm asleep by this time ; do you like my pretty baby sister, Hennie ?' A quaint bright look crossed the boy's face. ' Like is too little a word, find a bigger f then with a low, happy laugh, ' Here's Lucy, I know it's Lucy, and we can all be comfortable.' Had Lucy Graham been a lady she could not have been met by more respect and courtesy than Dudley paid to the poor sempstress ; and so gentle were his words and manners that she soon began to 72 NELLIES MEMORIES. blush less painfully, and the shy look disappeared, and when Hennie said, ' The ladies have come to talk to you, Lucy,' she took the only chair, which Dudley had just vacated for her, by my side, and waited smilingly for me to speak. ' This is the good-bye visit, Lucy, that I promised you ; the day after to-morrow we start for Lancashire.' ' Yes, I know, I am very sorry,' she answered in the subdued voice that sounded as if the sore heart had no room for lesser troubles. ' Hennie will miss you and the dear little girl too ; he is always talking of her.' ' How would you like, Hennie, to live with the little girl always?' I said, stooping down to the thin face now laid wearily on its pillow, — ' with me and Dudley too, in the dear old house I told you of, to lie on the lawn all day, under the shady trees and among the flowers and birds, with Lucy to sit and sew beside you ?' Hennie opened his eyes gleefully, but did not speak ; while Lucy clasped her hands involuntarily. ' Because if you would, you must help us to persuade Lucy to leave this poor room, and the hard work and the little pay, and come back with us to live at Sunnyside. ' Sunnyside ?' cried Lucy, in a tone as if she were asleep ; poor girl, her path lay too much in the dark shade to know what I meant by the Sunnyside. 'That is the name of our house, Lucy, of my own dear home, and it richly deserves its name. Sunnyside it has always been to us till the last sad months, and we hope we shall again learn to call it so. Hennie, shall you like it ?' For answer, his two little arms clasped me tight, and the boy's dry hot kisses fell on my cheek ; it was the first time he had ever shown any token of feeling for me. ' I am serious,' I continued, turning to his mother, ' and it is for your child's sake as much as for yours that I make this offer, for it is easy to see that this close dark attic, meagre diet, and want of daily and hourly nursing, have added fearfully to the real disease from which the boy is suffering. Give him light, air, cheerful com- panionship, and good nourishing food, and much maybe done; therefore, Lucy, if you are willing I will take you and the boy, and care for you both.' 'But how can I accept such generosity, and be a burden to you ? No, no, I cannot.' 'You will be no burden,' I answered, 'for I will show you how you can repay me, and indeed maintain your honest independence as much as you do now.' 'Ah, if that be so,' she answered, crimsoning brightly with sur- prise and pleasure ; 'how can I serve you, ma'am ?' ' I will tell you. Our nurse, who has lived with us since Rill was born, is about to get married. She has put it off twice, because she NELLIES MEMORIES. 73 would not lc;ive us in "in trouble; but Louie writes that her good man's getting restless ; and, in short. Ann will be thankful if I take the initiative and ask her to go. There is no nursery work now, foj Kill is my especial charge, but there is more needlework than ghe and I know now l<> get through ; and it is by your deft nimble fingers that you can serve me, Lucy. The old nursery is a large cheerful room, and that and the adjoining bed 100m shall be given uj) tO you and the hoy. Do you think you can Ix; happy there?' With a burst of grateful tears she took my hand and pressed it to hei lips. ' I will work, ma'am, for you as I never worked in my life. Oh, how dared 1 hope for such blessings for my hoy? I only live for him now, and il he he happy I shall know peace ;' and then, as if she could not Contain herself, and heedless of Dudley's presence, she rose, and laying her head down on I lennie's pillow, < lasped him to her breast. Something in that hungry yearning 1 lasp, in the bent golden head, seemed tO tOUCh Dudley, for with tears in his eyes he rose and left the room. We lingered to speak more comforting words to Lucy, and to give dire' tionS l"i her and llcnnie's out f it , and then we left. ' What do you think of her, Dudley?' I asked as I took his arm in the poii h. ' I don't want to think of her, I want to get them both out of my head ; poor girl, poor i-.ii I !' and Seeing him so deeply allected I said no more, only a:, kin;; him if I had done right. ' Perfectly, you always do,' and so the matter dropped. The next day was a very busy one, for it was our last at the manse. Alter packing, Katie and I went down to the village to (house some neat print dresses for Lucy, and a tidy bonnet and shawl, and sundry other necessaries for her and llennie. These Katie promised should be all made ready for her, and she herself would sec them to the station, and make arrangements for Hennie's safe removal. This and much more did Katie promise, sitting on my bed in the little Chintz room, with her bonnie brown hair all unbound and falling round her bright fat e. ' It is a promise, Katie, mind, a real downright promise, to spend Christmas with us ; nothing will induce me to let you off, and Dudley is as anxious as I.' ' 1 am Coming, I said ; mother and father will be in Edin- burgh, and I shall feel free. It's ill 1 like parting with you, Nellie, but the looking forward to see you and dear Sunnyside again will cheer me up, now Keith is gone.' And trusting to that promise both Katie and I took heart while the hist lingering gooil byes were said at the- old manse gate on the morrow ; and though the tears stood in her eyes and trembled in her voice, yet bright were her last smiles and words to us, bonnie- hearted Katie ! 74 NELLIES MEMORIES, ' What a peaceful time it has been, Nell,' said Dudley, leaning back in the carriage, ' a pleasant restful time ; but I am very thankful that we are not going home, but have a fortnight's respite yet.' It was easy to see how he dreaded that going home, poor fellow, and I for him ; but when I saw the healthful glow on his cheek and the renewed life in his eyes, I had hopes that it might prove less painful than we either of us thought. We were to sleep a night on the road, so Dudley and the minister arranged ; and it was early on the afternoon of the follow- ing day that our train drew up puffing and snorting at the unpre- tending and shabby little station for Whalley and Sabden. Long before it lay at rest, Dudley's head and Scotch cap were thrust out of the window, in eager search for the expected figure ; while I peeped curiously through the blue-curtained pane of glass at my side. Both pairs of eyes, however, were disappointed : the sole tenants of the platform were an old woman with a market basket, two whistling boys, and a sickly-looking girl with a baby ; and leaning against a gate-rail at the farther end a tall soldierly-looking man with two superb deerhounds in a leash. 1 That is not he, surely, Dudley ?' ' Who — Herwald Delorme ? Nonsense, child ; do you suppose he wears an oriental beard like that ? no, he is not here, I can see ; so jump out while I look after the luggage.' No, he was not come as he had promised, and it was very dis- appointing ; Dudley, I could see, thought so too ; and then I started, for I felt a touch on my arm. 'Miss Mortimer, I believe,' and I turned round to see myself accosted by the bearded man or the deerhounds. ' Yes, that is my name.' 'And that is Mr. Mortimer standing by the luggage?' Again I assented. ' I am the bearer of my master's apologies for the non-perform- ance of his promise to meet you ; very troublesome business has summoned him to L , and when he found that he would be too late for the train, he sent me on ; he hopes, however, to be up at the Hall in another hour, and seems dreadfully vexed at not being able to receive you there himself. If you will follow me you will find the carriage at the foot of the steps.' I obeyed after summoning Dudley, whose face lighted up on hearing that business only detained Herwald ; and when he had spoken a few civil words to our tall guide, and had caressed the magnificent animals that drooped their heads well pleased to his touch, we entered the carriage, and in a moment the high-spirited bays were carrying us away at a speed that seemed to bid defiance to the Lancashire hills. 'Who is that fine-looking man, Dudley? he does not weaj: NELLIES MEMORIES. 75 liveiy or seem to speak like a servant, and yet he said his master had sent him.' ' I cannot tell who he is, but did you ever see such dogs, Nellie ? Herwald was always a capital judge of animals. Look, there is one coming up after us now, at such a pace ; ah, he has whistled him back, you can't see him.' And Dudky relapsed into silence, while I looked eagerly out at the new country through which we were passing. Down the long roads bordered by the low stone walls, which in the North take the place of hedge or fence ; the fresh, keen air blowing from many a breezy flat, till the scenery from being unin- teresting became varied and picturesque, growing into beauty that pleased and riveted the eye. We had been ascending gradually for some minutes ; and then we uttered a simultaneous exclamation at the glorious scene below and around. There lay the Calder flowing peacefully between its grassy banks ; on either side park-like meadows, with trees of every shade, hue, and variety, now blending together their rich autumnal tints. Here and there through the leafy foliage peeped some white house, but this was rare ; no signs of life showed themselves, only some black cattle grouped together on the farther bank. Suddenly we stopped before a lodge, but only for a moment, and then went rapidly on through a long winding avenue. Such a glorious old avenue, now quite dark and shady from the branches meeting over- head, and now in wide glades of light, with here and there a purple shadow lying on the smooth turf and bosky knolls and patches of yellow moss, and every now and then opening glimpses into shadowed dells and long grassy aisles. 'This beats the Priory, Nellie,' said Dudley ; and as I nodded assent, it gradually widened and broke into a circling line that belted in a long smooth lawn of softest turf, which ran up to the very door of a noble white-winged house, which already stood open for our welcome. The gray-headed butler, so respectable-looking that I almost took him for a clergyman, came forward to receive us, and leading us across the hall, ushered us into a pleasant-looking room. 'I will send Mrs. Arundel to show you to your apartments, ma'am, unless you prefer taking any refreshment first ? ' 1 No, thank you, we would rather rid ourselves of the dust of the journey before your master arrives,' returned Dudley, answering for me ; ' so send Mrs. Arundel by all means.' Mrs. Arundel arriving, proved a trim motherly-looking person in black silk, hardly as formidable as her name, who, dropping a re- spectful curtsey, made many kind enquiries after our comforts ; and then taking Rill by the hand, bade us follow her. We passed through the noble hall with its tesselated pavement and great stained windows, and up the wide stone staircase with carved oak balustrades and quaint niches, filled up by many an 76 NELLIES MEMORIES. armorial suit and plumed helmet ; till we reached the roomy land- ing-place prettily fitted up with couches and flower-stands and with two bronze figures at the head of the stairs, holding lamps in their hands. On either side were two arched curtain recesses, to one of which Mrs. Arundel pointed. 'These are Mr. Delorme's apartments, ma'am, and the old master's too ; bless his dear heart, he was never far from his father, and sadly he's drooped since he's gone. Maybe as you are honoured guests, as Allan says, he'll show them you ; for Mr. Clive, that's our clergyman, calls them the gems of the house.' ' Then they won't be withheld from us,' was Dudley's whispered comment, as he helped Mrs. Arundel to undraw the heavy crimson hangings from the opposite arch. This done, we found ourselves in a long lofty corridor lighted by high narrow windows, and with busts on crimson-draped pedestals, alternating with curiously-shaped flower-urns, which lent a quaint and tasteful effect to the whole. Opening one red-baized door, Mrs. Arundel announced that this was Dudley's apartment ; and a pleasant room it was, with a southern aspect, and a large bay window with a writing-table and arm-chair within it ; a large bath-room adjoined. 'This is called the "green room," sir ; every apartment in the house has its name. Master Herwald, I mean Mr. Delorme, calls it the "bachelors' room," for his college friends always sleep here. Miss Mortimer's is next to it.' Leaving Dudley gazing longingly at the marble tank, she ushered me into the prettiest chamber I had ever seen. A rosy room, rosy from the ceiling to the floor, delicate rose chintz on the couch and easy-chairs, roses twining on the walls, roses lying piled up on the mossy carpet ; real roses, white and blush, in the Dresden vases on the toilet table, and roses clamber- ing in at the two open windows filling the room with fragrance. Could it be possible that Herwald had remembered my old predi- lection for roses ? and, as if answering my involuntary thought Mrs. Arundel said — ' Yes, it is a pretty room, ma'am, and glad Mr. Delorme will be that you like it. When he knew you were coming, he made me show him the lilac room where our ladies always sleep, which is farther down the corridor, and has five windows ; and he said it was too large and bare-looking, and that he would rather have this fitted up for you ; he went to Liverpool himself to choose the furniture.' 'I am sorry to have caused him so much trouble,' and then I turned as rosy as the room, for I saw her honest brown eyes were kindly but keenly scrutinizing me from the dusty crape trimmino-s on my dress to the tired-looking face reflected in the gilded mirror opposite, and I said somewhat quickly — ' I ought not to have been surprised at such kindly attentions from your master, for it is only like him to pay them. You know Mrs. Arundel, he was my poor father's ward, and at one part of his NELLIES MEMORIES. 77 Efe was as a brother to us, and indeed was considered by us as such.' ' Yes, ma'am, so I have heard,' was Mrs. Arundel's brief com- ment ; ' and now shall we take the dear little missy to her room ? tea is ready for her.' I followed to inspect the blue nursery, which was large enough and gorgeous enough for twenty Rills, and after having spoken to the pleasant-looking young woman who was to take charge of her, and seen the wee lady sitting up in her high chair with her round eyes fixed on the cakes and jam, I returned to complete my own toilette, A lingering one it was too ; it was so long before I could tear myself away from the window, and again and again I returned to look at the paradise below. At the back of the house was a broad stone terrace communi- cating by three flights of steps with the gardens ; the central one being ornamented by vases and urns filled with the rarest flowers. The garden itself was a wilderness of sweets, flower-beds, masses of gorgeous colour, grassy banks and cool splashing fountains fringed with ferns, with here and there a miniature lawn bordered by rose- trees, the whole shut in by a dark massy shrubbery, through which the eye could not penetrate ; but on either side, only divided by slender palisades, was the open park, with its giant oaks and elms and smooth-barked beeches, under which a few deer were daintily grouped. Oh Herwald, Herwald ! well might Keith say, 'the lines are fallen unto you in pleasant places.' A low tap cane at my door. ' Are you ready, Nell ? because we will go down,' and Dudley stood outside, a white moss-rose in his button-hole, and a pleased excited look on his face. At the foot of the stairs the butler awaited us, and leading the way through a music-room, with an organ and various instruments ranged round, ushered us into a noble drawing- room, with six or seven windows opening on to the terrace. A room so vast and capacious that the numberless couches, tables, and ottomans seemed but to furnish an oasis in the desert, and the three mighty fireplaces could hardly serve to warm it com- fortably. Placing me laughingly in the depths of a yellow damask ottoman, Dudley put his hands in his pockets and looked round. ' It must have taken an upholsterer's shop to have furnished this, and it is not half done yet. Fancy Herwald spending his half- hours here before dinner, a small black figure with a background of yellow satin. One thing, I do not believe it is ever used, it does not feel well aired, does it, Nell ? there is not a bit of home feeling in it ; no wonder Herwald longs for the old shabby drawing-room at Sunnyside.' 'It is a magnificent room,' I replied ; 'look at the view from those windows ; this one looks directly on the park.' ' It is too beautiful for me ; it wants an army to fill it, bevies of ;8 NELLIES MEMORIES. fair damsels and attendant knights. I won't meet the fellow here ; let us find out the old library' he spoke of,' 'Wandering about a strange house the first moment of our armaL' '' Of course, why not ? come along,' and half-leading, half-drag- ging me through the alleys of chairs and sofas he got me to the door. There was no one in the hall, so Dudley peeped into the dining-room, its long table loaded with silver and glass, and then turned the handle of the door next it ' Holloa, that's the billiard-room. Oh, if Bruce could only see that table ! I will make acquaintance with it to-morrow. This is the library, Nell, come in.' We entered, and then both stood spell-bound on the threshold : it was like going into a church, so still, so grand, so peaceful. This was the sanctuary of the house ; all that was homelike and precious, and hallowed by daily use, was here ; and though there was nothing that told of the ministering hand of woman, yet here it was not missed, as in that great unused drawing-room. Two deep bay windows commanded varied prospects, one look- ing out on one of the miniature lawns with which the garden abounded, and the other on a pretty dell-like hollow of the park. There was no palisade, so the short velvety turf ran up to the very window, beside which nestled, adding unconsciously to the general effect, a tame doe and her fawn. With the exception of the windows and fireplace, every space and corner of the room was filled by carved oaken book-cases, running from floor to ceiling, and loaded by massively-bound volumes. The writing-tables, escritoires, and cabinets were of the same carved oak ; and so were the two large arm-chairs that stood on either side the fireplace, with a curiously- shaped reading desk, and lamp placed beside each, well littered with papers and periodicals. ' That is his father's chair,' said Dudley, ' How do you know that ?' 'Because there are the initials carved with the motto and crest, — Willoughby Delorme. Oh, Nellie, is this not a place to spend one's life in ?' The sound of Dudley's voice had roused a very small dog lying on a velvet cushion on the table ; a black and tan terrier, so tiny, that it was not larger than a full-sized rat. This small atom of the canine breed commenced barking in a strangled whispered bark, like a child's toy dog, till on Dudley's taking it up, it left off with a dreary little whine, its slender legs trembling violently. ' Let's see your name, you little beauty. Why, here is extrava- gance, a gilt collar ! Sprite, — eh ; why, it is a dog's sprite if ever there were one, so it is a capital name. Come, come, be a good doggie and lie down.' But Sprite was not to be soothed, she showed her little white teeth, and glared with her beads of eyes ; so she was put sulking on her cushion again, when she instantaneously curled NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 79 herself up into a round ball and went to sleep. A long heavy scratch at the door and then another, Dudley opened it, and the two deer-hounds rushed in, springing on him gratefully with many joy- ful whines and slobbering caresses, and after carefully inspecting me, one lay full length on the rug, and the other seated itself erect on Herwald's chair, both listening with grave intelligent faces for their master's footstep. ' These are the dumb companions of his solitude/ said Dudley. ' Hark, what's that ?' Only a back door opening and closing quietly ; only a light swift step in the outer hall ; but Sprite has jumped up barking joyously, and the hounds with a low whining cry are by the door looking up at Dudley with their imploring eyes, and Dudley with a flush on his face has opened it, and after listening for a moment, follows them himself, and I am left alone looking at Sprite. Five minutes, ten, and then again there are footsteps, voices, the door opens, Sprite barks, and then Dudley comes back, and following him is a slight boyish-looking figure, in a gray tweed shooting-coat; and this is Hervvald Delorme ! My hands are taken and held in a warm clasp. ' Nellie, welcome, thrice welcome to Hurst-hall ; it is a happy day for me that sees you and Dudley here.' And I look up and smile, and say thank you, and feel strange; and yet it is the old face, the old voice, the same kind eyes of seven years ago. ' Nellie, you say nothing, but your eyes are speaking great things. Do you fully recognize the pale-faced boy you were so kind to in the dear old lang syne ?' ' It is just that,' I said, ' that surprises me so, that you are so little changed, so much younger than I thought to find you.' ' So much shorter,' with a merry laugh, ' that is what you meant to say. No, I am not much grown ; I'm still half a head less than Dudley, look,' and he made him stand beside him to prove his words ; ' you see I shall never make a fine man like my father, he was six feet two.' No, he was not a fine man, so slight, almost fragile of build, and with the pale boyish face, beardless save for the silken down on the upper lip. It was not a handsome face either ; but there was latent power, if I mistook not, in the quiet keen eyes and the some- what curling lip ; but what struck me most was the lofty carriage of the head, and the high-bred nonchalent grace of bearing, that would have distinguished him among a thousand, and which con- trasted strangely with the air of extreme youth. ' You see, Dudley can quite look down on me,' he continued ; ' but talking of change, you are just yourself, Nellie, not a day older, though your black dress makes you look pale. You have stood still as well as I.' 'And Dudley?' So NELLIE'S MEMORIES. It was pleasant to see the bright glance exchanged between them, and the arm flung naturally in the old way over Dudley's shoulder. ' He ! oh, you had better not ask me, I am so jealous of his extra inches. Well, he has the same grave look that made us sur- name him Seneca in the school-room ; how's the Bruce ?' : Flourishing, he's a fine fellow, if you like.' ' I suppose so. Well, I'm a pretty sort of host, forgetting one of my guests : where is the little River?"' ' I left her in the nursery, you must not see her yet till she is dressed, or Nellie will be in a sad state.' ' She shall come down to dessert then ; and now I must dress, or Morrison will be announcing dinner, and as my tired travellers must be nearly famished, I will make good speed ; au revoir.' As he passed I saw his quiet glance scan the simple mourning dress I could not throw off, but I knew no apology was needed, and let it pass without comment Dudley sat down and wrote off a business note, and before he had finished Herwald re-entered, dressed in black indeed, but not in the usual evening dress that Dudley had told me he always wore even when alone ; his extreme courtesy forbade it. ' Dinner is served/ said the butler, flinging open the library door in approved fashion. ' Morrison.' ' Yes, sir.' ' Turn Leo and Max for a run in the yard, and let Sprite have her cream.' 'You see,' he added, offering me his arm, 'my dumb family must be cared for, and Sprite is so little, she often gets forgotten. What do you think of the wee impish thing ?' ' I admire the deerhounds more.' ' You are right, they are noble animals ; I call them my body- guard, and seldom go anywhere without them. Max has especially done me good service. Dudley, take this seat opposite me ; it is pleasant to think my table will be less dreary to-day.' Dudley's face, seen through the vista of e"pergnes and flowers, was radiant as he answered — ' We must see you in the Sunnyside dining-room before we can quite say it is like old times.' ' Ah, if you knew how I have dreamed of the old place and of the happy boyish days, what a long blank there has been in our intercourse, and yet I feel we are the same. One thing I am re- solved upon, invited or uninvited I will spend my Christmas with you— may I, Nellie ?' ' May you ! oh, Herwald.' ' I will then, and though it may not be the merry thoughtless Christmas of old, we will make the yule log burn brightly in spite of all — what do you say, Nellie?' NELLIES MEMORIES. Si ' That I am doubtful whether Sunnyside will please after Hurst- hahV Herwald replied by an unanswerable curl of the lip ; and then by degrees we fell into a long interesting talk of the olden time, and all seemed to vie with each other in recalling ludicrous anec- dotes and mirthful exploits, till we forgot the somewhat repressing grandeur of Morrison and his staid, quiet underling Simpson, and were quite at home and at our ease. True, it was pleasanter when, the cloth being removed and the fruit placed on the shining mahogany, Morrison, on a sign from his master, left the room. 'And now for the little " River," may 1 fetch her ?' ' You !' I said dubiously, 'I fear our wee lady will hardly conde- scend to let you. Dudley had better be your deputy ; I think he has the art of charming her wayward moods.' Dudley ran off pleased with the commission, and soon we heard the cantering steps of her ' geegee,' and above them the sweet bab- bling voice, at the sound of which Herwald fairly started. 'A child's voice in the old hall ! can such a thing be possible?' I glanced proudly at the opening door in anticipation of the new white dress and lilac ribbonr- that we had decided she should wear; but to my disappointment nothing was to be seen but a blue flannel petticoat and a well-muffled head. It was one of baby's pretty tricks thus to veil herself when shy, and in absence of pinafores had used the first thing that came to hand. Hence the unsightly result. Herwald burst out laughing. ' Oh, naughty baby ; Dudley, put put down her dress, please,' but the chubby arms held it tightly ; and it was a confused little bundle that was deposited in the high chair. ' Oh, I am so ashamed, just when I want her to be good — Dudley, what shall we do ?' But Dudley and Herwald did nothing but laugh, and I was about to carry her out of the room, when Herwald stopped me. 'This is more amusing than I anticipated, leave the bashful young lady alone, I'll bring her round ;' then in a pleasant voice, and fixing his eyes on the ceiling : ' when I have little girls to stay with me, I always have them down to dessert, and let them have a green and gold plate with a bright crimson peach on it, and a silver knife and fork to cut it up with.' (Great excitement under the white frock.) 'And,' continued Herwald, 'sometimes these little girls have a glass of sweet wine, and some cakes with great almonds in them ;' then very softly, ' Wouldn't Rill like to come and sit on my knee and have these nice things ; won't she come to — whatever shall I call myself? uncle Herry, yes, to uncle Herry ?' Perhaps it was the cakes, perhaps the winning voice, but the crumpled dress was thrown down, and there came to view the dimpled shoulders and little head rippling over with its tight golden curls. Five minutes mere, and she was quietly seated on Herwald's G 82 NELLIES MEMORIES. knee cutting up her peach, and patiently enduring his kisses, while her rosy lips were continually making demands on uncle Herry. ' There is one question, Herwald. I have been wanting to ask you.' ' What is that ?' ' I want to know whether it be to accident or thoughtful design that I may attribute my rose-bud of a room ?' 'That is a veiy needless question for the white moss-rose to ask,' was Herwald's laughing answer, as he jumped up from the table. ' Shall we go into the garden ?' and then I knew from his using the old name that Keith and he had called me, that it was no accident at all. ' I have never seen such lovely grounds,' I said some minutes afterwards, as we stood on the terrace and watched the sun setting behind the shrubbery trees. ' These ! oh, they are nothing, I am going to show you my "wild garden ;" I detest these trimly laid out lawns and paths ; I like a " sweet neglect," I will show you what I mean, come this way.' We threaded the mazes of the shrubbery walks, which were so thickly and carefully planted as to resemble a miniature wood ; and from this we came out on the ' wild garden.' Wild it certainly was, and negligently beautiful, according to Herwald's motto, that 'beauty least adorned is adorned the most.' Through the grounds, broken up, and diversified by clumps of trees, there flowed a beau- tiful trout stream, abundantly furnished with trout ; across this were stepping-stones, picturesque, but not as dangerous as those by the manse, which led to a tangled thicket, from which we emerged on a smooth green bowling-alley, at the end of which was a Gothic summer-house with painted windows and a passion-flower covering its porch. Beyond, was a pebbly path leading to the fernery, where, amid broken rocks, cool fountains, and shady trees, flourished the rarest specimens that Herwald could procure ; this was the prettiest nook of the whole garden ; and he pointed out to us a mossy bank where he loved to lie and read. ' It is cool here on the hottest summer day, and when I am restless and perturbed, an hour's retreat with Max and Leo to my fernery sets me right for the rest of the day ; I am glad you like it, Nellie.' And then we went through a copse, and into a dell, from which we came out on the rabbit warren, and so into the park and home. We paused for a moment to admire the new-born moon just trembling on the deep blue of the sky ; then Herwald suddenly said to me, for Dudley had run in with Rill, who was sleepy — ' What a careless fellow I am, to be all these hours and not ask after my old friend Keith.' I had not expected the question, and a whole world of foolish colour rushed up into my face, as I stammered out something about his being well. Was it fancy, or did I see a strange look in Herwald's eyes, and a sudden compressed movement of the lips ? NELLIES MEMORIES. 83 No, it must have been fancy ; for those clear bright eyes were look- ing tenderly at me. ' Is it so? I am glad of it. God bless you, Nellie !' I wanted to undeceive him, but could not, for Dudley came back, and we all paced up and down the terrace talking, till the stars came out and the air grew dark and chill. 'You are shivering, Nellie ; come, let us go in, and you shall make tea for us.' He led the way through an open window to what appeared to be a dark room, but at last I discovered we were in the great drawing-room, and that there was a blaze of light at the far end. In the midst of a nest of couches and ottomans there was set out a pretty little tea-table with silver branches filled with wax candles, hissing silver urn, and costly Sevres service ; but save for this oasis of light the room was buried in obscurity. ' It is a strange idea of mine, this semi-illumination ; but when the great chandelier is lighted there is such a blaze and glare — no shadow, no dark corners, no "dim religious light ;" do you object to it ?' ' Far from it, it is like a bright picture with a dark background ; it is just the place for ghost stories.' ' No, no ghost stories in the summer ; we want the fire and the crackling logs for them. After tea I will show you what sounds better than a spectral tale on such an evening as this.' When tea was finished Henvald disappeared, and a few minutes afterwards we heard a soft wailing melody that grew gradually louder and fuller, and presently the deep sonorous notes of an organ swelled through the whole room. The effect was magical, glorious ; now it seemed to sigh and sob in low tearful symphony, till it wrung the heart to hear it, and then died off in a plaintive moan. I was for the time spell-bound, till I saw Dudley cover his face with his hands ; then carefully and painfully I groped my way through the vistas of tables and couches, till I came to Herwald sitting with upturned face, his hands wandering mechanically over the notes. I touched him. ' Something less sad, less touching, please ; it is the first time he has heard music except at church.' A wordless sigh answered me ; and without breaking off the melody, it sud- denly grew louder and louder, and soared triumphant like a con- quering march, till in a perfect storm it wavered and broke off in silence. We did not go into the drawing-room, but stood in the bay-window till Dudley joined us of his own accord, which he did after awhile ; then Herwald said, ' I am going to dismiss you, Nellie ; you must repair the effects of a long journey by a restful night. Dudley I know will keep me company a while in the library.' I knew they wanted to talk more fully together, and so bade them good-night, and retired. 84 NELLIES MEMORIES, CHAPTER X. ' She has neither savour nor salt, But a cold and clear-cut face, as I found when her carriage past, Perfectly beautiful, let it be granted her ; where is the fault? All that I saw— for her eyes were down- cast, not to be seen, Faultily faultless ; icily regular, splendidly null, Dead perfection, no more . . . . From which I escaped heart- free, With the least little touch of spleen.' Tennyson's Maud. High noon in the grand old library. All the morning I have been sitting in the bay-window that looks over the park, writing home letters and endeavouring to atone for long lapses of neglect by eloquent descriptions of the beauty by which I am surrounded. Every now and then I lay down my pen and lean back among the cushions, lulled by the slumbrous sense of stillness pervading the whole place ; or gazing idly out, trace the leafy shadows lying athwart the warm patches of light, or listen to the soft swaying and soughing of the trees just ruffled by a passing breeze. Herwald has come in half-an-hour ago to sit opposite me and write business letters, leaving Dudley to knock the balls about in the adjoining billiard-room by himself, of which occupation he is apparently weary, as he has just entered noiselessly, and is scan- ning the book-shelves previous to making his selection. Herwald's eyes have a misty far-away look, as he sits resting his head against the carved back of his chair, and toying idly with his pen, and I re- cognize the drooping curve of the mouth as certain indication of perplexity or care. Yes, it is the same old face ; there is nothing changed or new about it, save the somewhat grand carriage of the head, and perhaps a little wilful curve of the upper lip ; and looking at it now, old memories surge upon me ; and distinct among them all, that spring morning in the room even now called Herwald's, when we were all making sorrowful preparations for the departure of the boy who was as one of us. I could see him sitting in the old window-seat follow- ing my mother with wistful eyes, as she folded up his things with her own dainty hands, and laid them in his trunk : never offering to help her in his strange absent mood ; and how Louie and I at the last could not buckle the straps of his portmanteau for our tears, and how the fingers that came to our aid were cold and trembling too. I remembered also the impatient look of the proud father, when the good-byes were being said in the hall over and over again ; but I think even he was touched, when Herwald threw his arms round my mother, saying, ' Good-bye, mother, good-bye ; I have never known another ;' and it was Dudley, Dudley quiet and thoughtful even in those days, that led him so gently away, saying, ' Your father waits, dear Herwald ; you know you are to come to us again. • don't fret, man ; never fear, we'll see you back soon.' NELLIES MEMORIES. 85 But he did not, and perhaps it was some dim presentiment of this long seven years' parting that filled the lad's eyes with tears and choked his voice. At this moment I became aware that my dreamy observation of him was being repaid with full interest. ' Well, Nellie, " do my simple features content you ?" as Shakes- peare has it ; or is my face as a sheet of hieroglyphics to be care- fully unriddled by bent brows and mysterious eyes ?' ' 1 beg your pardon,' I said laughing, ' I did not mean to stare, but your look recalled old scenes to me ; you are marvellously little changed.' ' Just as I was thinking the contrary of you.' 'Of me!' I exclaimed, turning scarlet; 'you surely have not been analyzing me all this time, when I imagined you lost in the mazes of business ?' ' My analysis, though thorough, was brief ; will that content you ? You know physiognomy was always my weakness ; and I have an odd trick even now of studying my neighbour's face as index to his character ; and don't think me conceited, I have never found myself wrong ; if ever a man has a pet weakness or hobby, I am sure to find it out in the first half-hour.' ' You are punishing me sadly for my inconsiderate stare.' ' Nonsense, Nellie, your eyes were looking through, not at, me ; besides, these liberties are accorded to old friends.' ' But, Herwald, how am I changed ?' ' I thought you were not at the first minute of meeting, but I see you are.' ' Well, go on, don't be mysterious.' ' Well, you've changed your hair, for one thing ; you used to have it in a flood of curls just tied in a blue ribbon, and not that mass of glossy plaits.' ' True, I forgot that, but I have long worn it so.' ' Then I miss the old placidity of expression, and in its place I read a certain wistfulness and unrest I never thought to see it on your face, Nellie ; and, lastly, you have that look which mothers have, the anxious loving expression of one who has many cares ana many responsibilities : nay, I could have summed up the whole in one brief sentence — I left the girl, I find the woman. Have I spoken too plainly?' for his earnestness had made the tears spring to my eyes. ' No, but I never guessed you had such penetration ; how could you see all this ?' ' He is a perfect Argus,' muttered a distant voice. ' Halloa, are you there, old Seneca, listening to my rhodo- montades ? I thought Nellie and myself sole tenants of the library.' 'I was tired of making fine strokes for only myself to admire Don Quixote.' ' Oh dear, oh dear, the old name ! how strangely it sounds. $6 JELLIES MEMORIES. Well, as you are here, come and see if this letter will settle my business.' ' You still write with your left hand, old fellow,' was Dudley's remark as he seated himself comfortably on the arm of Herwald's chair. ' It looks like it, I own ; oh, how my poor father used to abuse what he called my excessively ungentlemanly hand.' ' The whole style of the epistle seems abusive, what's it all about?' ' Oh, didn't I tell you ?' laughed Herwald ; ' I've spoiled the point. Why, it is a certain bullying tenant of ours, who was espe- cially odious to my father ; times out of number he tried to eject him, and never got hold of a proper handle for the purpose. But now the lease is up, and the fellow has been whining and cringing to me to have it renewed ! a civil no he won't take, do you think this will do ?' 1 Well, rather ; it is hot and strong enough, in all conscience.' I All right, give it here, and let me seal it up. There.' 'Halloa, Quixote, what is this scented billet-doux? it looks awfully suspicious ; I bet you anything it is from the " unmention- able she." ' ' Don't chaff, there's a good fellow, I want to write the direction properly ;' but Dudley was in one of his provoking moods. ' It is no good looking so demure and shame-faced, Herwald ; it is not likely you have lived so long in the land of the Lancashire witches without having some penchant or other.' ' I assure you,' answered Herwald seriously, and a little sadly, ' there is no " unmentionable she " in the case for me, or ever will be, that I know of. True, the Lancashire witches are handsome and sprightly enough ; but I am fastidious — fastidious and I think a little cold. I shall shock you dreadfully, I don't much care for & irls -' ' Come, Nellie,' cried Dudley, rising with a serio-comic air, ' let us leave this house, this abode of a monster, a Frankenstein ; you hear, he does not care for you.' ' I did not say women, I said girls. Confound your chaff, Dudley.' ' Oh dear, oh dear,' murmured Dudley exhaustedly, i how these blase" men of the world talk, with their women and their girls.' I I tell you girls, the ordinary run of them, are slow, vapid, mere frivolous butterflies, pretty enough of course, but not what I want to find in a woman. It is an odd idea,' he continued with a bashful glow on his face, ' but I sometimes wonder if Hurst-hall will ever have a mistress. Of course it will be very lonely living here all by myself, but I don't think I shall ever find exactly what I want.' ' Hear the young autocrat. What are the graces of mind and body your Quixotic lordship requires, then ?' ' Oh, something mignonne, petite, spirituelle. Je ne sais quoi — NELLIE'S MEMORIES. £7 oh, I can't tell. Sometimes the fair lady of my fancy is one tiling one day, and one thing another, and never two days alike.' ' Is she ever drawn from life, may I ask ? ' A wicked littie smile lurked in the corner of Herwald's mouth. ' You are fishing in too shallow water, Dudley.' Then with a sudden bright change, ' Yes, I can tell you, I can show you the exact portrait of the fair ideal. I lighted on the very thing one day in a volume of anonymous poems, and it seized my fancy wonder- fully ; ' and crossing the library with the springy step so natural to him, he searched for the book, and came back, his finger on the open page. ' Weil, go on, is the lad bewitched ? what are you looking at ? have you not found the "petite, mig7icnne" and what do you call it, in there ? ' 'Yes, but she is not petite, cried Henvald, looking rather foolish; ' she must be tall, listen — ' My lady walks in stately grace.' ' Of course she is, you never saw a little person walk in stately grace ; she may be some fair-haired giantess. Go on.' ' My lady walks in stately grace/ ' All right, you said that before, I hate repetitions.' Herwald replied by a right-hander that sent Dudley out of his place, and forced a strangled bark from the red cushion on the table. ' Be quiet, Sprite, be quiet, my little wee lady,' cried Herwald, laying the animal to his cheek, ' don't excite itself, or it will have the bronchitis ; no, no kisses,' as the little red tongue wandered lovingly over his face ; ' I love not such evidences of affection — thank you, no,' as I picked up the book he had dropped and pressed it on him ; ' we'll leave the fair ideal where she is.' ' I'll be good,' cried Dudley, from the depths of an easy-chair ; 'go on, Quixote.' And Herwald magnanimously completed the stanzas, ' My lady walks in stately grace ; The sun-beams toying with her hair Have left their golden glories there, Tinting its brown with colour fair To frame her winsome face. Upon her clear and steadfast brow One little vein its course does show Like brooklet on a plain of snow, While dusky lashes darkly fringe The wonders of her deep blue eyes. Which lake-like mirror back the skies f Yet ever in their depth there lies Still thought with sadness tinged.' ' Don't stop, finish it' ' Oh, the rest is a mere love idyll ; but I will read it.' ' My lady hath a beauteous face ! Last night the sun went burning down, The heavens were in a crimson frown. And skirted redly round the town. 8i NELLIE'S memories. Oh, 'twas an hour of grace ! I stole beneath the beechen shade, Whose overhanging branches made A bow'ry depth and still arcade For fawns and dryads meet ; The mosses held their laps of dew, And rang the merry hare-bells blue, As she came stealing on to view, With wealth of dainty feet. My lady comes ! she comes, my love ! Her silken trail of garments sweep Across the grasses in their sleep, Which shake their silvered heads and weep At her light tread above ; And wondrous things with curious eyes Come stealing forth in slow surprise, Luminous things of earth and skies, And coil themselves around ; A zephyr wand'ring through the air Stirs the coy masses of her hair, And leaves a tiny rose-leaf there That flutters to the ground. Through thedim aisles she moves, my saint I Erflct with girlhood's head sublime, Praying a prayer against all time, With folded hands and face divine. That makes my spirit faint ; My heart pants like a frighted deer, My soul is wrapped about with fear. Because my lady draweth near, Then, as she breathes my name, I fall and kiss her twinkling feet, I call her mine, my own, my sweet 1 And dare to whisper Margaret, With lips that are aflame I * 'Yes, very pretty, and the idea is debonnaire and winsome enough, but Herwald, my poor lad, such stateliness would eclipse thy puny inches.' ' Peace thou son of Anak !' ' I would advise you, also, to take care before you plunge into the wonders of her deep blue eyes ; she may prove but a golden- haired Lorelie after all.' ' True, O king, live for ever ; but Nellie, may I ask the reason of i hat smile ?' I was smiling to myself m a curious mood, but would not have enlightened him for the world ; so he turned baffled to his tor- mentor. ' We'll have the laugh at you one of these days, Dudley, when we see you enslaved by some angel in blue.' ' Not he,' I cried, preserving strict neutrality no longer ; ' I've no fear of his being led away by a pretty face ; he'll look for some- thing better.' ' Something resembling his little moon-faced sister, I suppose,' said Dudley, pinching my check. Herwald looked at us and sighed ; then changing the subject — 'To whom have you been writing all this morning, Nellie?' ' To my indefatigable correspondent, Louie, to be sure.' NELLIES MEMORIES. 89 'Louie? that reminds me of a piece of heresy on the part of master Herwald. We were chatting last night in the library about the home-people, and I asked him if he remembered Louie, and he said, " Oh yes, well ; she was a buxom red-haired girL" Fancy that description for Queen Loo.' 'I'm sure her hair was red,' persisted Herwald, laughing ; ' red, decidedly so, and she was buxom, or stout, well-favoured in fact ; I dare say she has grown up a handsome girl.' ' Look at Nellie's vixenish eyes, she is ready to quarrel with you !' ' No, it is true, Louie's hair has red lights in it, but we think it a beautiful colour.' ' If Bruce were here he would spout whole pages in praise of what he calls her Borgia head, and as to buxomness, she is a fine woman.' ' I hate fine women,' was the cynical remark sotto voce ; and, pulling Sprite's ear viciously, 'and flirts ' 'Herwald !' ' Well, is she not a flirt ? don't look so savage, Nellie.' ' What have you been saying, Dudley ?' I exclaimed in hot eagerness to defend the absent. ' Oh, nothing, nothing, a mere trifle ;' then with a flash of the eye and a set lip, ' Colonel Grey is my friend, that is all.' I started. ' You know ; oh, Herwald !' ' Yes, I know that which I own has greatly lowered my estimate of your sister's character ; but I must in candour avow, that I did not learn this from himself, but from Dudley. I happened to men- tion the name while talking last night, saying what a capital fellow he was, and how much liked, and I saw the young man opposite me glower and frown and change the subject abruptly ; and so with my usual sagacity, putting two and two together, sundry hints lately dropped of the siren-like qualities of the second Miss Mortimer, and certain unaccountable lingerings of the Colonel in a particular neighbourhood, I came to one conclusion, and so I told Dudley, and it all came out.' 1 was silent, and I must say I blushed for the sister who was not here in her own person to cry ' med culpa, med culpdf for I felt that if she knew Herwald as well as I had learnt to, even in these few hours, she also would have cared to stand well before that simple noble nature. That she had forfeited this esteem I doubted not ; for both Herwald and Dudley were singularly grave and strict in this matter ; among their fellows of the young giddy generation they were as apostles of a new religion. ' I must say,' continued Herwald, ' that I think ill of your sister's taste in refusing such a man ; there is not a truer gentleman, a more accomplished officer, in all her Majesty's regiments than Arthur Grey ; steel to the back-bone, without an enemy in the world, and a thorough good-hearted fellow in the bargain.' 90 m he i died him i ow cited,' t .; tmmered ■ \ >>u have put 1 1 mlldl) ,' replied Herwald. with •• little mod smile. 'Insufferable conceit, i think, was the expression usedp ag mi i looked it i *» ill u- \ repro u hfull) • Now there li not •» than more trulj humble minded than Grey j yet just because he has adopted the lounging fashionable mannei that men now«a«days think highly bred, yout slstei has not *\u enough to see th it it Is but aVi In deep, and th it the gold tl< i At the bottom ; did you e\ ei see him r' 1 Yes, one Sundaj i noticed, a singular!) handsome man In the Thorntons' p w,and Louie told meafterw irds It was I olonel Grej •Well, how many more ol het Maji ity's officers has Louie treated In this way, besides poor G re) • Herwaldj' I Bald, summoning dignity i" my aid, ' remembei \«mi .lie speaking "i my si itei ' ifelt It w is time to bn ill up the discussion, is i was hurt -ii the tone ii w is taking, hurt ind mgrj .it in>i being ible ti> deft nd the Indeft risible 1 1 ci w.i iii rose, and with an okUfashloned court* j that sat very firettlly <>n lum, put my h md i" hi llpi ' i will bi i >i In nunc, Ncihc; .mil now ii vou like I will show you the wi item corridor i you expressed a wish to see it yesterday, that and my i>.u heloi s den b< sides ' i assented cheerfully, and is we left the room he said ph isantly, * I )u nut i lose upyoui lettei wnln.ui sending my klndremembi tnces to \ oui sl i' i .mil liruce.' I gavo him •• grateful look, '"' I fi It ii" - 1 Indness th >i prompted the slight < ffort, and then followed him with i lighti i I i ii .nil li n>ii in i in- hoavy curtains that draped thi entrance to the corridor, was n red baited doot ; as he opened It, Hi rw ild ii I laughingly, ' Vou si o wc ol the wi ti rn • orrldoi are doubly gu irdi d, urn will you be surprised when i tell you Ii contains | i worth iii the house besides.' Ashe said thin, we found oursolvi i In i imall i mi exquisite i galli ry , spending In time with tl i . .i .1 polished connoi tur, and < true lovci ol arl ; his eyi . lighted up with unusual animation, while pointing oui the beauties ..i . < i. mi. i. .,i ., Poui iin, h d hi whole mam med into un- wonted enthusis m i had long noticed .i large pi< uri veiled with thin gauzi , as we drew neai ii Herwald said ' My in.. 1 1 1. r . portrait/ and undr< w it '' was the pl< ture ol a litth v.ini' lady, with n young tendei face and shy eyes, oui "1 wIik it iii, girlhood had nol yel faded ■ Ii i,. nol i |.M ii / young mothei V he said, In •' low tone, 'she i,< m,.I i ■ I : I,- n |hl 'Ii' 'I ' ' . young, i Ii rwaldi' ' . ■ ■■ , -. .Hi ..ii .ii the very beginning "i hei happy married lif( Phi y ii id loved each othei since th< y wen i hildn n, .i.,.i 1 1... . i. v months had bei n so full >>i \<>y My fathi >'■■ grii i .ii her lo i so frantic that foi ^ears he could not bear the sight of in. , thi h ipli • > aui > "i h( i d( . • ■ i * | and ii was ■< n li< I to him in hi Impatient misery when thai appointment was offered him in 1 1 ni I., /ou know thi rest, how 1 came to live al Sunny side, and how my father, , ii lasi ol his i"";: i idle, and yearning i"i the boy whose childhood hi had slighted, returned to home and me j .mil you i ii" v t "i .ii i) ast you < an nevei know, the passionate love thai sough) •" atom foi thosi unhappy yean "i neglecl and d( -.< i tion ' w<- wen silent, i"i we had known thai love to b< tyrannical, and had su(T< red from ii 1 1, rv, i Li ' ontinued mu lingly, ' i low strange to < .ill hi i , moth* i , who si ii| .1 kissed me, whosi weal arms nevei held m<- In a loving < mi ii .ii )• i' • < >h, Hen* ild, Is thl trui V ' Vts, It is true,' he answered sadly, 'When my babj lips were pressed to hei , hen i en as cold as lei ; they tell me who stood round the bed, thai rallying towards thi In it, she made signs foi the baby to be i ght | and when Ii came, hei blue eyes, filmy then with death, casl one long loving i>»>i* al It, and lifting up hei hands is ii i" bli H. iId ii hinir.i .in,i , lasped hi i husbands ni i k with ,,ii, long sob -UK i died, ( ome,' he said, rallying himsi If, ' this ends in i.iiin i in ■■in-, iin ■ atalogue, Now foi thi b n hi tor's den . thi e doors on thl Idi oi the r. illery, foi there are doors underneath the ■ mi im , i. ni to • ■ i v father's apartments, bu1 thej are so dismantled and covered up thai I cannol show them to you, though they are t lie- beat in the hou is , thai was his bed room, the next Intended i>>r $2 NELLIES MEMORIES. a dressing-room, but never used by him as such, then his bath- room, and lastly his bureau as he termed it, where he kept his papers and transacted business with his steward ; but it is more suitable for a ladies' boudoir, with its gold and white paper and gilded door.' ' Perhaps it will revert to its original use some day.' ' Perhaps so, nous verrons ; on the other side, Nellie, are my rooms ; we will not open that door, for Allan sleeps there.' ' Allan, who is Allan ?' 'Why that fine-looking fellow with the oriental beard, you know, who met you at the station ; he fills the office of travelling courier, valet, secretary, confidential agent, personal friend, everything in short that is indispensable and valuable ; he is away now on a secret mission, or you would have seen more of him ; ever since he nursed me when down in the fever at Cairo, he has been as neces- sary to me as a mother to her child.' ' Do you mean he enacts that character to you.' ' Almost ; he takes care of me, is always giving me good advice gratis, and preventing me from doing anything foolish; he is every- thing that is good and kind ; poor old Allan !' ' What's his other name, Herwald ?' ' Duncan, to be sure ; what are you making great eyes at, Nellie?' ' Nothing,' I replied ; 'where does this lead ?' ' To my bath, but it is under repair, so you can't go in. Here is the ante-room, where my dogs sleep ; that is Leo's rug, and here Max guards the doorway, and that is Sprite's cradle.' I looked at the little velvet-lined basket quite shocked. ' Her- » wald, you house your dogs too delicately ; you treat them as if they were Christian flesh and blood ; that fair purple bed is more fit for an elfin prince to sleep in than for your impish favourite.' ' Nothing is too good for Sprite ; you are very disrespectful to her. Do you know she is the smallest dog in England ? Allan pets her as much as I do. This is my bed-room ; is it not a pleasant room ?' It was, but it was different to any sleeping apartment I had ever seen ; the floor was of polished oak and destitute of carpeting, only two or three costly skins were thrown carelessly here and there. A small brass bedstead of exquisite workmanship stood in the middle of the floor. Herwald pointed it out to me, saying, ' I took a fancy to it in a Parisian shop ; and my father, without saying anything about it, had it sent over here at great expense. I believe he would have procured the roc's egg, or tried to do so, if I had expressed a wish for it.' The rest of the furniture seemed to have been picked up in the same desultory way. There was a large wardrobe of massive black oak magnificently carved, that looked as if it had come out of a mediaeval workshop; and two or three chairs that must centuries NELLIES MEMORIES. 93 ago have belonged to the altar of some old cathedral ; the very dressing-table was dark and cumbrous, and adorned at each corner by carved stags' heads ; and there were various grotesque spindle- legged tables about the room holding heavy brass-clamped boxes. I think I most admired a beautiful prayer desk, over which was a small case of devotional books and a copy of Rubens' Descent from the Cross. This and a full-length portrait of his father were the sole pictures, but there were some statuettes and bronzes of great beauty arranged tastefully about the room. ' Well, what do you think of it, Nellie ?' 1 1 am so surprised ; it is a beautiful room, of course, but I expected something more civilized, and,' I added mischievously, ' more befitting the apartment of a dandy of the nineteenth century.' ' How do you know I am a dandy ? you have not peeped like Dudley in those big boxes, and found nothing but unguents, pomades, and essences both European and Oriental ; neither do you know that big wardrobe yonder is groaning with outfits of every de- scription. Allan scolds me dreadfully for my extravagance in dress ; and I am afraid he is right' 'Trust a woman's quick wit, Herwald ; remember, I have seen you in four coats already since yesterday afternoon ; besides, I saw evidences of fastidious taste at the first glance at you.' Herwald laughed guiltily. ' Well, if you don't call it comfortable, what do you think of this ?' opening an inner door ; ' my father had this fitted up for me as a smoking-room when I came back from college, and though I have since given up the odorous weed, I still use it as a snuggery.' A snuggery it was, such a tiny warm-looking room, with crimson couch, carpet, and curtains, a tiger-skin serving for hearth- rug, and a case of handsome meershaum pipes over the chimney piece. 'When my college chums come to stay with me, we always adjourn here before bedtime, and many a time have we seen the small hours in with talk and jest and song, when the dear old father thought us asleep ; Allan mixing grog for us out of that tiny brass kettle.' 1 Grog, Herwald !' ' Well, I never cared for it, but Vincent and St. Clair did, and I would not stint them, and it did not taste badly ; and when I am alone of an evening, and the library feels large and dull, I come and read myself sleepy in my snuggery. Well, Simpson, what is it ? ' as we became aware of the pale-faced young footman standing at the door. ' Please, sir, the luncheon is served and Mr. and Miss Rivers are in the drawing-room.' ' In the long drawing-room, did you say, Simpson ?' 4 Yes, sir.' ' Tak" the horses round to the stables, and let Thompson rub 94 NELLIES MEMORIES. them down and give them a feed, and tell Mr. Rivers I will be with him in a minute.' On Simpson's exit Herwald's calm, deliberate tone changed to one of vexation. ' What an intolerable nuisance having luncheon visitors ; I certainly did hope to have you all to myself for one whole day at least, and just as we had planned an afternoon drive to show you Pendle Hill and Whalley Abbey.' ' But must they stop to lunch ?' I asked anxiously, for strangers were particularly distasteful to me just now. ' Of course they have come for that purpose ; most likely they have been out riding all the morning, and have taken us on their way back ; we Lancashire folk are very fond of these morning visits. Come along, Nel-lie, we must not keep them waiting ; Maud Rivers is rather a formidable young lady.' ' One instant, I must just put my hair straight.' ' Nonsense, don't be so affected, you are perfectly neat ; I do like hair to look like hair, and not plastered down like Miss Rivers', till it resembles a brown silk skull-cap.' My last excuse being thus removed, we went downstairs, and I found myself being conducted through those terrible alleys of chairs and tables, as swiftly as I could go. ' Pardon me for so long keeping you waiting, but we were in the picture-gallery. Mr. Rivers — Miss Mortimer, my late guardian's daughter.' A tall fresh-coloured man, with bushy snow-white whiskers and hair, came forward with a pleasant smile, and shook me heartily by the hand. ' 1 was not aware your guardian had a daughter, but I am very happy to make her acquaintance, and her brother's also,' as he cor- dially acknowledged Dudley's greeting ; and then Herwald turned and 'introduced me to Miss Rivers, who responded in a perfectly well-bred though somewhat haughty manner. Without exception, Miss Rivers was the most striking-looking girl I had ever seen ; the most striking-looking and the tallest, and her great height was further increased by the singularly long arching throat and slender build of figure, which was aided also by the straight narrow folds of her riding-habit. Dudley wickedly said after- wards that she was only length without breadth, which idea amused Herwald hugely. She had a fine statuesque face, colour- less, and when at rest rather inanimate, large blue-gray eyes, and the most peculiar hair possible. Herwald's conceit, of ' brown silk skull-cap,' was certainly very true, for Miss Rivers' hair lay in close thick folds, almost as if glued to the head. Certainly most extraor- dinary hair, so silky in quality, and so abundant in length, that if those heavy coils of plaits were unloosened, they must reach at least to the knee, and yet dead-brown in colour, shadowless if I may so call it ; no ruddy or golden lights for admirers to wrangle over; no ripply waves : better, far better. Louie's Borgia head than thi§, NELLIES MEMORIES. 95 Perhaps Herwald did not think so ; anyhow he was polite enough to the young lady, disarming her of her gloves and whip, and urging her to lay aside her riding beaver. ' I don't know that I shall,' she said in an abrupt, but not unpleasant voice, though it was scarcely as gently modulated as I love to hear. ' I do not know that I shall, if only to punish you for your unneighbourliness, in not coming to see us before. How long have you been at home, sir V 1 Only three weeks.' 'Only three weeks! hear him, papa! three weeks, and never been near the Cedars to report yourself, after all your fine promises at Paris too !' ' I assure you, Miss Rivers, my long absence from home has accumulated business to such an extent that I have scarcely yet had time to look my affairs properly in the face, and have really crossed no threshold but my own.' ' Oh, you are always ready with an excuse, but we are not going to let you off so easily. I know your misanthropical views, and have determined to combat them, though I must say they seem to agree with you ; you look as if you have taken a new lease of life, so wretchedly ill as you appeared before.' ' I wish I could return the compliment ; you have lost even the few roses you could boast.' ' Fie, what a pretty compliment for a gentleman to make ! but I believe you are right, and I am looking awfully pale ; the season this year has been killing, besides which, papa and the doctors say I paint too much.' ' Is this true, Miss Rivers ?' asked Herwald demurely. ' Well, I suppose it is ; when I am not riding with papa or out with the dogs, I am in the studio ; that is to say, when we are at Sabden ; for of course in London I can't paint so much.' ' But you will injure your health ; indeed, you should moderate your ambition, if only to please your father.' And as he said this I could not detect if Herwald's tone of interest were real or feigned. ' Oh, you know, I never do things by halves,' and she laughed, 'it is better to wear out than rust out' ' It is better to do neither.' 'Oh, Mr. Delorme, what a serious face ! by-the-by, have you hung your Guido yet ?' Herwald changed colour and shook his head. 'Why not, you lazy lover of art ?' ' Because, because I have not had the heart to touch the pack- ages, they are in their wrappings still ; ' and rising and offering his arm abruptly, ' let me take you in to luncheon.' Perhaps Maud Rivers was more womanly at heart than appeared, for her colour rose as she accepted it, and I heard her say, ' Forgive me, I was thoughtless in mentioning it, but you remember it w^5 the object of my idolatry at Rome,' 96 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. Mr. Rivers and I followed, Dudley bringing up the rear. I mar- velled to see Herwald head the table with such ease and grace of manner ; I marvelled and admired. And yet it was not the same Herwald somehow that talked with me in the library this very morning There was the same self-confidence, but not the same frankness and open-hearted gaiety ; in its place was a certain haughty non- chalence of bearing, something indolent and provoking withal ; and underneath the quiet words and gestures I detected a half-veiled raillery, that savoured to my mind of satire. I felt that if we had met at first in that manner, I should long ago have been annihilated. Yet Miss Rivers seemed to like it ; she answered each parry with a dexterous home thrust of her own, and as Herwald never forgot the gallantry due to a lady, their wordy strife flowed on harmoniously, though I myself waxed giddy in the warm encounter of wits. Herwald strove to draw me into the conver- sation once or twice, but Miss Rivers' hauteur and my excessive shy- ness forbade his efforts, so I sat and listened to Dudley and Mr. Rivers as they argued on some knotty point in the politics of the day. I had often heard my father talk on these subjects, but not Dudley, owing, I believe, to his usual modest silence in the presence of men older than himself ; but now, representing as he did the head of the house, he bore himself and spoke ' as one who had authority,' and I felt very proud of him, for I saw Mr. Rivers was struck with the clear conciseness of his speech, and the breadth and liberality of his views, and was talking as to his equal in mind and age. When I turned my attention from them at last, Miss Rivers was saying — ' I will forgive you your past transgressions, Mr. Delorme, and grant you full absolution, if you will come to us on Monday ; ay, I will respect your misanthropy, and no one but Mr. Clive shall be asked to meet you, so you need make no excuse.' 'Thanks, Miss Rivers, but I cannot possibly avail myself of your kind invitation, for a host cannot well leave his guests to amuse themselves in his absence.' Miss Rivers bit her lip. 1 I did not know your friends would be with you then, but that shall not be any hindrance ; you must suffer me to extend the invi- tation to them also ;' and turning to me with a gracious smile — ' You will allow us to prove how gladly we shall welcome Mr. Delorme's friends, will you not, Miss Mortimer?' I did not answer, but looked at Herwald imploringly. He did not seem well pleased at my silence, and said quickly — ' You are very kind, indeed, and Nellie, I know, thinks so ; but I am afraid she feels the days are yet early for going among strangers, and so you must please excuse us.' ' 1 cannot allow you to speak of us as strangers, and to put me oT with such scruples ; Miss Mortimer must test the hospitality of the north ; what I am asking you for is a plain family dinner, no NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 97 one but p>pa and I, and not another creature, just our luncheon party, and no more.' 'Is not Mr. Clive a person, then ?' ' Oh, he is no one ; he is a necessary appendage, that is all ; but we will dispense with him if you like. Come, you must not re- fuse me.' Thus strongly urged, Herwald, though with visible reluctance, accepted for us all, and Miss Rivers, without a second look at me, gaily gave the signal for departure. ' Order the horses?' said the courteous host, 'nay, not so soon ; may I not challenge you first to a game of billiards, Mr. Rivers ?' ' Thariks, not to-day, Maud has afternoon visitors, and cannot delay.' 'Don't be later than six,' was Maud's only remark, as we stood together in the hall, while Herwald ran to fetch her hat and whip, and then went out on the door-step to watch for the horses ; as he did so, a piping voice cried— ' Uncle Herry, uncle Herry !' and Rill ran up the lawn, where she had been airing herself with a large parasol. 'Ay, sweetheart, there you are,' and Herwald lifted her up in his arms, where, spanning his face with chubby hands, she played at hide-and-seek kisses. ' Come and speak to the lady,' he said, putting her down. Rill, docile for once, suffered herself to be trotted along to Miss Rivers. ' Nice child,' said she, tapping her on the curls with her whip, and never stooping to caress or speak to her. 'Are the horses up ?' and from that moment I felt 1 disliked Maud Rivers. Herwald did not seem to, or why was he so long arranging the folds of her habit, as he placed her in the saddle, while she stooped so low to him that the feathers on her hat touched his face ; and why, when they were fairly off, did he linger watching them, till she, turning, saw him and waved her hand, and then he hastily entered the house. ' On with your hat, Nellie, the carriage is coming round, and we can have our promised excursion after all ; don't be long ; may Rill go too?' ' Of course she may, if she will not crowd you.' 'Crowd, this tiny lady crowd us ! nonsense, come along, Rill,' and as he caught her up eagerly, ' Nellie, I have an idea. I think I will not marry till Rill grows up ; you will be my " wee wifie," won't you, Rill?' ' Wee wifie ' was too much engaged in proudly smoothing the growing moustache to answer, but as he went lightly up the low broad stairs with his burden, I could see the dimpling arms clasped tightly round the neck of uncle Herry. n 9* NELLIE'S MEMORIES. CHAPTER XI. 'Ye gentle ladies in whose sovereine powre Love hath the glory of his kingdom left, And th' hearts of men as your eternal dowre, In yron chains of liberty bereft, Delivered hath unto your hands by gifts, Be well aware how ye the same doe use That Pride doe not to Tyranny you lift, Least if men you of cruelty excuse, He from you that chief doure which ye do* abuse.' — Spenser. The conversation that day at dinner turned on the same politics over which Dudley and Mr. Rivers had argued during luncheon. Herwald took up the subject hotly, and the talk waxed so warm, and to me tedious, that I was glad to leave them to wrangle it out over their wine, and to go and sit on the terrace by myself. At our cosy tea-table, however, Dudley resumed the subject by asking Herwald why he did not enter into public life and stand for the next election. ' The election took place, my dear boy, while you were loitering in the north ; and even if it were not, I should hardly dare to do so after the stringent orders of two London physicians not to do any- thing involving great mental or physical work for the next two or three years.' ' Are you jesting, Herwald ?' 1 On my honour, no ; what makes you think so ? you know I did not pick up as readily after that fever at Cairo as I ought to have done ; and then I had a relapse or two, and so Allan bothered me to go to Willis and Collins for advice before I started northward, and precious advice they have given me.' ' Oh, I dare say your estate furnishes you with ample employ- ment' 1 My dear fellow, I believe you ; there is not another landholder, I am sure, so plagued by his tenants ; mine are so confoundedly in- dependent, they get an idea in their heads and stick to it, and "not all the king's horses and all the king's men" can drive the self-will from these Lancashire men.' ' Well improvised ; poor old Herwald, these are hard lines.' ' Are they not?' he returned, looking very much as if he liked them, ' I shall have lots to do during the winter ; there are thorough repairs wanted in two or three of my tenants' houses, which I shall like to superintend myself; and then there are my plans for the new schools. I am my own architect.' ' That's capital, I did not know you were so clever.' ' Oh, I always had a taste that way, and now I shall turn it to account.' ' Are you building them at your own cost ?' ' Yes,'" he said quietly, ' it is a memorial ; I like it, and I think he would too, better than a painted window or a grand marble monu- ment' NELLIES MEMORIES. 99 ' Far better,' we both acquiesced. ' I am glad you think so. Clive is so pleased ; the old ones are dilapidated to such an extent that the rain comes through on the children's heads, and in addition to that you know we work a large farm of our own ; you remember I pointed it out this afternoon.' 'What, the one with the quaint old gabled roof, and the low stone walls lined with holly-bushes ?' 'Yes, the same, Holly-bush Farm we call it ; there is only a bailiff in it now, but I want to put Allan in possession.' ' What a windfall for him ! does he know of your kind inten- tion ?' ' He does, but he will not hear of it, which is the more provoking, as he has a decided taste for farming, and is far too fine a fellow to be wasting his years in pampering the whims and fancies of a spoiled aristocrat ; I am ashamed of myself for having him.' ' I wonder he can so stand in his own light ; why, the possession of a farm like that would be the making of him.' Yes, but he says houses and lands are wasted on him, and that nothing can induce him to settle down, for it would drive him mad.' ' Why so ?' I asked curiously, but Herwald changed the subject abruptly. ' I hope Clive will be at the Cedars to meet you ; he is a par- ticular friend of mine ; I know you will be pleased with him.' ' I suppose we shall hear him to-morrow.' ' To be sure ; he will conduct the entire service, as his curate is away.' ' Have you many friends about here?' I enquired, 'who do you consider your next-door neighbour ?' ' Oh, the Tracys of Millbrook House, halfway down the hill ; but as good luck will have it, they are away at Paris, I believe.' ' You don't seem to like them.' Herwald made a face of disgust. ' What is the matter with them, pray?' ' Matter, why there are six girls and three or four boys, the brothers only a degree more odious than their sisters ; I've had to be rather cool to two or three of them, for they used to be eternally riding my horses, haunting the billiard-room, and borrowing my guns ; and as they are a fast ungentlemanly lot I did not choose to put up with it. And as for the sisters ' 'Well, what of them ?' asked Dudley, much amused. ' Why, you will never believe it,' continued Herwald, growing very red ; ' but every one of them made love to me after a different fashion, aided and abetted by a manoeuvring mother.' 'This is amusing, go on,' said Dudley, who, stretched full length in the satin couch, was enjoying himself mightily ; ' how did they set about it, and were they not handsome enough for you.' ' Oh, they were well enough looking ; the eldest draws beauti- fully, and was always talking to me of high art, and of her never- ico NELLIES MEMORIES. to-be- forgotten winter at Rome ; the second, Lucinda, was of senti- 'mental cast, quoted Byron and Moore, wore long ringlets, and kept an album ; the third was decidedly " horsy," and was always riding to hounds on a piebald charger ; and as for the fourth and the prettiest, Flora, her sole thoughts were of balls, picnics, and junket- ings, a more empty-headed little butterfly never frittered life away ; the two last, the twin harpists and pianists of the establishment, as their mamma called them, alternately played or warbled Italian ditties to our supposed content ; I have a vivid remembrance of their thin arms and scraggy throats, at this moment.' ' What a charming family ! Who are your other friends, Herwald?' I Oh, I have hosts ; there is old Dr. Mowbray, who lives in the red brick house opposite the Tracys, with his pretty niece Sophy, she is unfortunately engaged to her uncle's partner, young Greaves ; then come the St. Clairs, one of whose sons, Hubert, went to college with me, and their cousins the Willoughbys, a nice family of girls and boys, who have lately come to the Grange ; and the Rivers, and the Wallaces, and Sir Ralph Percy, and Major Hurlstone, and lastly and best, the Vaughans, once of the Grange and now of Rose Cottage.' I I never heard you mention them ; who are they ?' I Arthur Vaughan is the best friend I have in Lancashire ; he and his sister, Miss Milly, to whom I must introduce you one of these days, as she is a great favourite of mine, used to live with their mother at the Grange. There they resided in luxury ; Arthur rode his own horses, went to college with me, and was to have shared my Eastern tour, when it was discovered all at once that his guardian had made ducks and drakes of his money, speculated largely, and the upshot was, that the Grange, which had been in their family for more than a hundred years, had to be sold : the Willoughbys bought it, and the widow and her children retired to a little cottage that belonged to them, and Arthur, with his fine education and gentlemanly taste, was obliged to accept the post of daily tutor to the Willoughby boys, and to teach in the same house where he had once been master. I think this broke the mother's heart — she was a proud woman, and a Spaniard by birth — ■ for she died about six months after their removal to Rose Cottage ; so the brother and sister live quite alone now. Come, have I gos- siped sufficiently for your ladyship's benefit ? because if I have, I will go and play.' And so the innocent woman-killer, by his own account, groped his way to the organ, and soon one of Beethoven's divine sym- phonies floated through the room ; Dudley and I followed him, and the rest of the evening was spent happily in music. The next day was Sunday, and after breakfast Herwald asked me if I should mind a long walk to church ; on my replying that I should enjoy it greatly, he said — I I am very glad &£ that ? for I have a strong objection to have th.e NELLIES MEMORIES. 101 horses Out Oil Sunday ; not that they are much worked, but I like Williams to go to church with his wife and children, and enjoy his day of rest as much as I do ; and then I can listen to the fourth commandment with a clear conscience, and not fancy there are harsh commentators in the servants' pew ; and now put on your bonnet, Nellie, for we will take it leisurely this lovely morning.' The walk was long but exceedingly pleasant, and I was quite sorry when we reached the church, and the minute hand of the belfry clock gave us no excuse for lingering in the shady church- yard. Many a kindly greeting did Herwald exchange on the way with man, woman, and child ; and though the rough Lancastrians never doffed or touched their caps, as southern breeding would have taught, yet the ' good-mornings' were as heartily said, and the strong powerful faces lit up pleasantly at the sight of the young master ; even the sturdy shepherds' dogs seemed to know him, and wagged their fag-ends of tails affectionately as he passed. The church was nothing particular in point of architecture, and was chiefly remarkable for its numerous monumental tablets and two superb windows, the gift of Herwald's ancestors. In spite of the glorious sunshine without, all was sombre and shady within, with a dim religious light, and the roomy square pew into which Herwald inducted us, with its purple baize lining, struck me as resembling a good-sized sarcophagus and about as cheerful. High as it was, however, I saw Maud Rivers' tall figure pass into the pew opposite, rustling in silks and with a wreath of jasmine resting on her satin hair, and I was just thinking in my own mind what a pity it was that girls now-a-days wore flower-gardens on their heads instead of the decorous church-going straw bonnets of old times, when Herwald touched my arm, and said— ' That's Hubert Clive ! ' and raising my head, I saw a tall fair effeminate-looking man with heavy-lidded eyes and a proud weak mouth. And this was Hubert Clive, Herwald's great friend. I felt bitterly disappointed ; I remembered the minister's granite face, and Mr. Egerton's powerful head and benevolent countenance ; and I felt I could never care for a clergyman who could look round on his congregation with those sleepy half-veiled eyes. Just then the sun emerged from a passing cloud, and a host of dazzling prismatic colours from the painted window tinged his robes and circled his fair hair with a glory of violet and crimson. Herwald whispered enthusiastically — ' Doesn't he look like the angel Gabriel, Nellie?' and, for all my dislike of talking in church, I could not help answering indignantly— 'Angel Gabriel, indeed, with those long well-trimmed whiskers.' I thought Herwald would have burst out laughing. Mr. Clive read the service in a singularly melodious but monoto- nous voice : his enunciation was perfect, every syllable audible from one end of the church to the other, and that without the slightest i62 Nellies memories. effort ; but the want of variation in the tone, of power, of deep feeling even, were such, that I would have preferred the most faulty style, if it were only combined with earnestness of manner, to his. Just such was the sermon. I thought of Mr. Egerton's harvest discourses and sighed. Here was a sermon faultless in composition, learned even, arguing great knowledge of the Scriptures, rich with quotations from the fathers, prolific of godly wisdom ; but oh how cold, delivered in that lifeless manner, in that measured tone ! Once only did it amount to eloquence, once while speaking of 'the rest that remaineth,' the eyes opened, looking bright, dark, and vivid, and the voice rose and waxed warm q^id loud, carrying us along with him into realms of beautiful thought ; till it broke off hastily in a way that was strange and abrupt, and with a low-spoken blessing, almost inaudible, the congregation was dismissed. ' What a charming discourse,' said Maud Rivers with her foot on the carriage-step, as we passed, ' what a superior man and scholar is our dear Mr. Clive ! ' ' Yes,' said Hcrwald, 'he is a wonderful fellow,' and we walked on. 'Well, what do you think of him, Nellie?' asked Herwald, as we turned into the road. The tone was so enthusiastic that I could not bear to damp it ; I thought of the angel Gabriel and held my peace, hoping that Dudley would answer, but he was walking on ahead deeply ponder- ing, perhaps, of ' the rest that remaineth.' 'Well, speak out, why do you hesitate ?' ' Because I scarcely know how to answer you ; Mr. Clive's read- ing and sermon would have been beautiful, if they had not been so cold.' ' Cold,' cried Herwald eagerly, ' do you mean to say that you did not penetrate the warmth, the life, the fervid feeling underneath, so thinly veiled by what perhaps you term a too quiet delivery?' ' Too quiet !' I remonstrated, ' it was monotonous, lifeless.' ' You do not understand him perhaps ; people might judge so after once hearing him, who did not know the man, with his sen- sitive heart, his passionate love of all that is good and beautiful. It is because he holds himself in as it were by main force, lest he should lose himself; did you not call the closing part eloquent, gloriously eloquent.' ' Yes, if it had all been like that I should not have complained, but just as we were becoming warmed and carried away, he breaks off short.' ' Of course that verifies my words, he is afraid of himself, of becoming too impassioned.' I thought there was no fear of that ' But he is so effeminate, so ' Then Herwald, impetuous always, lost his patience. 'Effemi- rwtc ! Hubert Clive effeminate ! why the man's whole life is one NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 103 great contradiction of that ; how little you know what you are say- ing, Nellie ; listen, I will tell you something that will contradict this opinion. Four years ago, a dreadful fever broke out in this place, not a common fever, but one so painful in its details, so deadly in its ravages, that even paid nurses were known to flee it, and the gentry panic stricken quitted their houses one by one. It was then that Hubert Clive showed of what metal he was ; just re- covered from a distressing nervous malady, he took up his post as minister of the gospel, performing the rites of the church undaunt- edly to the sick and dying, and standing bare-headed at one grave after another. We had not fled with the rest, it had seemed to both of us cowardly to do so ; and I shall never forget Hubert's tired, jaded look, as day after day he came to his home for a brief rest or refreshment, and yet he had never seemed so happy before or since in all his unhappy life. Don't ask me why unhappy, Nellie, but believe me when 1 say, that the man's whole life has been one long martyrdom. Once when all in a house were dead, save one poor youth, Hubert nursed him like a brother, and for forty-eight hours never left his bedside. The lad's name was John Simmonds ; you might have seen him, a bright intelligent-looking fellow sitting in the front free seat ; I believe he is ready to worship Give's shadow. I remember, Nellie, in that awful time of panic and distress, with the bells tolling all day long, how Hubert reminded me of Aaron, in that " he stood between the dead and the living," till the plague was stayed.' Herwald's face as he said this looked positively beautiful, in its warm glowing expression, and touched and subdued I hastened to say — ' Perhaps, dear Herwald, I judged too hastily ; I shall think differently now ; ' and Dudley said — ' The man's suppressed expression touched me greatly ; and I detected suffering and weariness in every word ; he is young, Herwald?' ' Yes, only thirty ; he has been in orders six years.' Dudley had a headache, so we did not go to church again in the evening, but spent it happily in the wild garden instead. The next morning, as we were sitting at breakfast in the pretty chintz parlour, Herwald said — ' I have a plan for this morning. We will ride over to Holly-bush Farm ; I have several things to mention to Duncan, my bailiff, and I want you to see my latest improvements. Nellie shall ride Lark- spur, she is gentle and warranted to carry a lady, and Dudley shall mount our black Marmion.' ' Good gracious, Herwald, 1 was never on a horse in my life.' ' Then it is time you were ; I'll be your master, and we will have you a first-rate equestrian in half a dozen lessons.' ' But, Herwald, I have no habit.' For answer he rose and pulled the bell lustily. io4 NELLIES MEMORIES. * Morrison, tell Mrs. Arundel I want to speak to her.' Mrs. Arundel appeared trim and complacent as usual. ' Mrs. Arundel, I want you to beg, borrow, or steal a riding- habit for Miss Mortimer's use while she is here ; where can you get one?' Mrs. Arundel was perhaps accustomed to these abrupt com- missions from her young master, for she only folded her plump hands and pondered placidly. ' Miss Rivers, sir, has three or four all fresh and good, shall I beg the loan of one from her ? ' ' By no means, Miss Rivers is the last person to whom I should wish to apply ; think of some one else, my good lady.' ' You would not care to go to the Tracys ? ' Herwald shook his head ;— ' and Miss Kate Willow ghby is such a slight small figure. Oh, I know, Patty Greenwood, farmer Dean's daughter, has just got a new blue one ; she rides a deal and well too I'm told, and as she happens to be visiting with an aunt at Liverpool, may be they'll give us the loan ; anyhow I'll step up to farmer Dean's and see.' 'Do so, Mrs. Arundel, and let Miss Mortimer have it by to-morrow ; don't go in the gig, have the carriage out, perhaps the little lady might take an airing with you.' Mrs. Arundel curtsied and withdrew, and Herwald rubbed his hands joyously. ' What a woman that is for ideas ! She is invaluable to me, I can assure you ; but, Nellie, I am sorry we must leave you at home this lovely morning ; how shall you amuse yourself?' 'Don't be sorry for me, I shall be thoroughly happy. I shall first give the picture gallery the careful inspection it deserves, and then take the snuggest coiner and the nicest book I can find ; but, Herwald, is the black Marmion you mentioned your own horse?' ( No, my father's ; he is a noble beast, though a bit fiery, but I know Dudley can manage him ; my own is a real Arab, my beautiful mare, Fatima, the present queen of my affections, a peerless crea- ture : wait, and see us mount, and I will introduce you to her.' So I walked about the turfy lawn till they came out, and admired the beautiful foreigner, with her soft dumb eyes, and the white star on her glossy forehead ; saw Herwald vault on her without touching the stirrup, and stoop over and play with her chestnut mane lov- ingly ; and then Dudley mounted Marmion, and they laughingly lifted their hats and were down the avenue in a moment. Then I walked leisurely in, visited the blue nursery, and saw my little maiden equipped for her drive, and then entered the beautiful gallery lying so still in the sunshiny morning, and the next hour passed pleasantly enough. I was just sitting in the bay window, when I heard quick heavy footsteps, the door was flung open, and Simpson and one of the grooms entered with a huge picture they were carefully carrying, NELLIES MEMORIES. 105 and following them was the tall man with the bronzed curly beard whom I recognized as Allan Duncan. On seeing me he paused with an embarrassed and somewhat disappointed air. ' I beg your pardon, Miss Mortimer, for intruding on your privacy, but I did not know you were in the gallery at all' ' I was only resting here a moment, Allan ; what are you doing with those pictures ?' 'They are the foreign ones the old master bought,' said he, coming near and speaking low, 'and Mr. Herwald cannot summon up the heart to unpack them, and yet he wishes them hung. I know he will be relieved to see them on the walls in their right places, without having to make any effort about it.' ' I am sure he will ;' it is a capital idea of yours, and very thought- ful. Which is the Guido ?' 'This,' he said, pointing to the one he had carried; 'I would not trust it out of my hand ; I know the exact place it is to fill; the difficulty is about the others. If you are not too much engaged, would you mind giving me your advice and taste ?' ' Gladly, though I am no true connoisseur, and know little about hanging pictures.' ' As much as I do,' answered Allan, with a pleasant smile ; and then we fell to work, inspecting, measuring distances, trying lights, viewing effects, sometimes in our zeal walking the gallery twice or thrice before we could settle the exact position ; and so the morning passed happily and busily. Simpson had at last been dismissed to his duties, and the last picture hung and admired ; Allan had dis- appeared to fetch a leather to rub up a frame that looked rusty, and I was kneeling on the floor to examine the figures of a beautiful bas-relief, when two hands suddenly placed me on my feet, and turning round, I saw Herwald's merry face. ' You back ?' I exclaimed, ' oh, how swiftly the time has flown !' ' Yes, we are back, and hungry as hunters ; luncheon is ready, so come along, fair lady.' But I would not let him leave the gallery so, but led him to the Guido. He started, flushed, and then turned pale, and when I had shown him the others he said in a touched voice — ' You need not tell me whose work this is, it is just like the dear old fellow's thought.' At that moment Allan himself re-entered, and then was about to withdraw hastily, when Herwald called him back. ' Allan, who has injured my Guido ? look at this crack.' Allan came forward looking guilty and perfectly speechless ; then after examining it — ' That was done when you bought it at Florence, sir.' ' I know it was ; ' then taking him by the shoulders and shaking him, ' how dare you, you great thoughtful kind-hearted giant, how dare you spoil your young master so, and make him feel so un- pleasantly grateful? what do you do it for, Allan?' and the tears to6 NELLIES MEMORIES. positively stood in his bright eyes. Allan stroked his bronze beard with a trembling hand and only answered — ' Are they properly hung, sir ?' ' I don't know, and I don't care.' ' Miss Mortimer assisted me, sir, with her taste and advice.' ' You are a couple of bricks,' was the answer, as he raced off to his own room quite overcome, I believe, and Allan followed him, while I went down-stairs and found Dudley regarding a cold haunch with hungry eyes. ' What were you doing? where's Herwald?' 1 He will be down in a minute,' and down he presently came, in high spirits and full of fun. After lunch we went out to the trout stream in the wild garden, the young men with their fishing-tackle ; but Herwald's rod was soon thrown aside, and he came and lay on the grass slope at my side and read Childe Harold instead. The scene was peaceful and beautiful ; a shimmer and sparkle of sun- shine lay on the water, but where Dudley angled was cool shadow, for a weeping-willow hung over the stream till it dipped its feathery branches in it, and farther on was a group of larch and silvery birch. Beyond the invisible fence that bounded the garden were meadows lying emerald-green in the sun, dotted over with sheep and oxen, and beyond, like a silver thread, the Calder flowed between its grassy banks. The air was heavy with perfume of honeysuckles and clematis ; and as I listened to Herwald's pleasant sonorous voice, I forgot all about the dreaded dinner- party at the Cedars, till Herwald, after looking at his watch, closed his book and said, ' Half-past five, we had better go in and dress.' ' Miss Rivers said we were to be there at six.' ' Indeed, why so ? when they never dine till seven ; I confess I do not care for lounging in drawing-rooms for an hour before dinner, even for the pleasure of talking to Miss Rivers.' So we walked back to the house ; and I went up to my cosy room to dress with a heavy heart : why must we go out to that horrid dinner, when we were so happy and comfortable ? As I put on the thin crape dress with its modest white ruffles, and a little breast-knot of Cape jessamine and fern leaves that Herwald had sent me up from the conservatory, I wondered what Miss Rivers would think of my simple toilet. Then I took out my mother's India shawl, smelling so sweetly of atta of rose, and hung it on my arm, and then there came a tap at my door, and opening it, there stood Herwald in full evening costume, diamond studs and all, with a tiny morocco case in his hands. ' How nice you look, my little lady. Ah, I remember that shawl, Nellie, and its faint sweet odour ; look here, I want you to accept this little trifle, and wear it for the sake of your adopted brother Herwald ;' and with his daintily-gloved hands he fastened something into my dress. NELLIES MEMORIES. xo; I ran to the glass ; it was an exquisite pearl brooch, with one single pearl of great size and beauty forming the pendant. ' Herwald,' I remonstrated, ' I cannot accept this, it is costly in the extreme, a perfect gem, far too good for me ; please take it back.' ' If it were not costly I should not have offered it to you, I don't give rubbish,' said the young aristocrat ; 'and as to taking it back, is that the way you accept the only gift I have ever made you ? ' ' But how shall I thank you ? you are so very, very kind,' and I held out my hand. ' By always thinking of me when you wear it ;' then, as we went downstairs, 'My mother wore it on her wedding-day. Now I am sure you will value it more.' Herwald and Dudley were in high spirits as they went along, and I could not help being infected with their gaiety, and Herwald was in the middle of an anecdote when the carriage drove through the lodge gate, and in another minute stopped at the hall door. The powdered-haired footman (I was glad Herwald did not have his servants so disfigured) wanted to hand me over to a jaunty- looking French maid, but Herwald said, ' No need,' and with his own hands relieved me of my shawl, giving me at the same time a sweet reassuring smile ; and offering me his arm, took me in. There, at the end of a long lofty room, sat Miss Rivers on her couch of state, who welcomed me graciously, and Herwald and Dudley warmly. She looked really well in her black lace and splendid ruby orna- ments, but I should have thought it better taste to have worn a quitter dress, especially as no one was to meet us. ' What makes you so late, or rather punctual to the minute ? I said come at six.' ' Pardon me, but I could not disturb this infatuated angler,' said Herwald, coolly, ' it would have been cruelty, I assure you, Miss Rivers ;' and then Mr. Rivers entered, and after a few words of polite greeting took me in to dinner. Miss Rivers followed with the two gentlemen, walking between them in a regal manner, and in the same way she monopolized them both throughout the whole meal, dividing her words and smiles between the twain, though I knew where the blue gray eyes looked most often. For myself, but for Mr. Rivers' kindly attentions I should have been very dull ; but he started some interesting topics of conversa- tion in which I could readily join, and though we did not find as much to amuse us as they seemed to at the other end of the table, I was not ill-amused. Now and then Herwald or Dudley addressed me byname and said some pleasant thing across the table, but Miss Rivers never followed up their remarks, and if some general subject were started, let it drop to the ground ; which was discourteous in so young a hostess. The first time she really io8 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. turned to me of her own accord was, when she gave the signal for rising ; Herwald opened the door, and as I passed gave me a pitying smile. When we reached the drawing-room, though there was no fire, Maud Rivers marched up to the hearth-rug as was her usual custom, and I meekly followed her. Standing there she turned her haughty eyes on me, and quietly looked me over ; and I am certain not a single point, good or bad, escaped her scrutiny — hair, eyes, hands, all passed under review ; then she drew up her tall figure to its utmost height, gave a swift survey of herself in the opposite glass, made a mental comparison disparaging to me, and then said coldly — ' Won't you sit down, Miss Mortimer ?' and took the corner seat of the couch opposite to the ottoman to which she had waved me, and paused herself some time in silence. ' Do you paint ?' she said, at length, somewhat abruptly. ' Not the least, Miss Rivers, but I hear you do.' She put the question aside as not worthy of comment. ' Do you play harp or piano ?' ' The latter a little, but I am no musician.' ' Do you sing then ?' ' My voice has never been properly trained, I leave all the accomplishments to my sister ; she both draws and plays beauti- fully.' ' Then I suppose you read a great deal ? ' ' Alas ! I rarely open a book ; a leisure hour is a rare treat to me.' ' Why what on earth can you find to do ? ' was Miss Rivers' next question, arching her eyebrows inquisitively. ' We are a large family,' 1 said, ' and I am the oldest and the housekeeper, and 1 have many children for whom to work.' Miss Rivers smiled disdainfully, and evidently looked at me in the light of an inferior person. ' You seem to be very friendly with Mr. Delorme.' I felt her cold eyes on me, and answered hotly — ' Of course, Henvald is my adopted brother.' 'Ah,' she replied swiftly and with marked emphasis, 'ah, I dare say you have an elder-sisterly feeling towards him?' I was silent, attributing this idea to my staid demeanour. 'Why don't you advise him,' she continued, ' to go into parlia- ment ? he has great abilities ?' ' True, but his health will not bear it ; his doctors have recom- mended rest and a quiet life for some years to come.' ' Oh, that is nonsense,' she said, sharply, ' there is nothing ails him but his loneliness and morbid feelings, I saw it abroad ; you who are his friends should recommend him to settle, marry, enter into public life, take his position in the county in fact.' Oh, I thought to myself, that is what you are aiming at, but I would rather see him in his grave, than you his wife, Maud Rivers. I answered — NELLIES MEMORIES. 109 ' There is plenty of time for that. I don't fancy Herwald is a marrying man,' and then turned the subject ; and so with long lapses of silence, and ill-concealed groans on Miss Rivers' part, another half-hour lagged on. It was a relief when the tea equipage was brought in, and Miss Rivers could bustle among the tea-cups, and scold the footman for spilling the water out of the urn. ' Tell papa tea is ready, Stephen,' and as the door closed again, she said, ' I can't think what detains them so long ; papa promised me not to sit over his wine and talk politics to-night,' but as the door opened at that moment, the slight frown passed away, and Miss Rivers was again all smiles and welcome. Dudley walked up to me. ' Well, mouse, how are you getting on ?' ' I am very tired,' I said, stifling a yawn again with difficulty. 'Tired, oh we've had a jolly long talk ; Mr. Rivers is a capital fellow, is he not?' to Herwald, who had joined us, 'a regular old country gentleman, clear-headed and sensible.' 'Yes, he is the right man in the right place. Tired, Nellie ?' ' Yes, rather,' I observed again wearily. ' Then you want to go home, you ungrateful girl ?' ' Not before you are ready, pray.' ' Well, we must endure an hour's music first, or Miss Maud will never forgive me ; ' and then he walked off to the tea-table, where he remained, but Dudley brought his cup and stood by my side. ' Why have I never been invited into the studio?' said Herwald, in an injured tone ; ' out of revenge because we outbid your father in the Guido ?' Miss Rivers laughed and looked flattered. ' Oh no, my only reason is that I want you to see my picture completed, and to give me a candid criticism.' ' Nearly finished, is it, Maud ?' ' Yes, papa, I have only a few days' work.' ' What is the subject, may I ask ?' ' Dido's funeral pile.' ' On my honour, Miss Rivers, you are bold to select such a sub- ject ; it will want delicate handling.' ' I am delighted it is nearly finished,' observed her father, ' for Maud is putting all her colour into the picture, and I never plan a ride, drive, or visit, but it is " Please, papa, I must finish this figure, or put in this piece of drapery." ' ' Miss Rivers was very good then to spare me a few hours on Saturday,' said Herwald quietly ; she coloured. 'Papa exaggerates dreadfully ; shall we have some music now?' — and sitting down to her harp she made Herwald accompany her on the piano. The effect was very good, Maud Rivers showed her- self to be an accomplished harpist, and when they had played two or three pieces, her father begged for a vocal duet, and they sang no NELLIES MEMORIES. some Italian and German songs together. Herwald had an agree- able tenor, and though Miss Rivers' voice was thin and inferior in quality, she made up for it by the excellence of her training. When they had finished, Herwald of his own accord sat down aud sang a Spanish canzonette so sweetly and melodiously, that I could not help whispering as he rose — ' You should sing that serenade to the lady you deign to woo ; it would certainly win her.' He laughed and answered mischievously, but I dared not pursue the joke, for Miss Rivers was watching us closely. ' Don't you sing, Miss Mortimer?' she observed with an attempt at graciousness. ' Like a nightingale,' answered Herwald, gaily ; ' I have a vivid remembrance of Bonnie Dundee, and Auld Robin Gray ; but you must excuse her to-night — (how kind of him to shield me so), and now, my fair hostess, " the way is long, the night is cold," though, by-the-bye, " the minstrel is not infirm and old," and thanking you for your kind entertainment, you must permit myself and friends to withdraw.' ' Nonsense ; it is only eleven.' ' Did I say it was twelve ? you have no basis for your argument ; I have quick ears, and I know Zephyr and Vixen are stamping their hoofs this moment at your gate.' ' You are so ridiculously careful of your horses ; they shall be put up if you like.' ' Thank you ;' replied Herwald, quietly taking her hand, ' you are very kind, but we cannot be late to-night.' I suppose Miss Rivers knew of old that it was useless to dispute Herwald's will, for she said nothing, but bade us good-bye, scarcely acknowledging my parting thanks, and then to my great relief the carriage door was shut upon us, and the horses went off at full speed. Herwald was silent all the way home ; but as we drove up the avenue, he said — ' We are sure to find a fire somewhere ; I declare it feels quite chilly to-night ; is there a fire, Simpson ?' 'Yes, sir,' opening the door of the chintz parlour. How cosy it looked with its bright blaze and soft wax-lights ! Herwald took off my shawl, planted me into the easy-chair, holding me a moment to look into my face, and say, ' You poor little tired white lady ; ' and took a low stool at my side. 'How delicious and homelike !' I said, as I leant back and closed my eyes. ' You have been wretched this evening, Nellie ; you have not enjoyed yourself a bit ; I am so vexed !' I made answer wearily, that it was my own fault. ' Nay, I saw how it was,' — then abruptly, ' well, what do you think of Maud Rivers ?' ' J think her rather handsome,' I replied, briefly. NELLIES MEMORIES. rii 'Rather handsome. What a term to apply to Maud's grand statuesque face !' \ Very, then, though it is not my style ; I like more colouring, life, expression than her features have : I dare say you may call it beautiful.' ' Certainly, I do ; it is beautiful,' he answered, gravely ; ' with a rare and peculiar beauty ; and as I admire all beauty in whatever shape, style, degree, I must admire her.' ' I tell you what,' said Dudley, ' she would make a splendid model for Helen of Troy, with a diadem and veil ; she would make an artist's fortune. I never saw such a clear chiselled face, and such strange colourless hair, or rather shadowless, as Nellie says ; I say, Herwald, would you mind my going to the library for a quarter of an hour? I quite forgot to answer a question Bruce asked me relative to business, and I shall not be up for the early morning post' 'All right, Nellie will keep me company till you come bade' I made no objection, and Dudley closed the door. Herwald sat looking into the fire some time with his chin on his hand ; at last he said quite quietly and coolly — ' Nellie, don't you think Maud Rivers would make a capital mistress for Hurst-hall ?" I nearly sprang off my seat 'Maud Rivers ! Herwald, you are jesting.' ' No, I am not,' he answered, with a peculiar smile, 'why do you look so surprised ? she is very beautiful.' ' So is a marble statue, but 1 never thought you could love such cold passionless beauty, and for its own sake too.' ' Nay, there you are unfair ; Miss Rivers has many noble quali- ties besides ; she is an accomplished artist, nay, more, an aspiring one ; a splendid musician, and has four or five languages at her fingers' ends, and has no mean idea of Euclid, and one or two of the "ologies ;" indeed her accomplishments are numberless.' I laughed disdainfully. ' What a list of virtues for a model wife !' He did not heed the interruption, but went on. ' She moves with the grace of an empress, and would rule right royally, like one.' ' I believe you,' I groaned. ' She has a high spirit, generous impulses, good moral character ; what more would you have ?' 1 Much more, oh much more for your wife, dear Herwald !' 'And then 'he hesitated, ' I know I have but to hold up my finger, and she would have me ;' and Herwald as he uttered these audacious words coloured high. ' More shame to her, that she should let you see that unsought ; and not only you, but every change observer, and yet you have never wooed her?' 112 NELLIES MEMORIES. He evaded the question. ' Many men richer and cleverer than myself would count them- selves hnppy to have won her smiles even unsought ; she is a noble-looking woman, and I am very lonely, Nellie ; very, very lonely in my great old hall' The admission so unhappy in its truth touched me to the heart. 1 Poor boy !' 'And she likes me !' I cried out passionately, ' You shall not have her, Herwald ; the idea is monstrous, absurd ! what, link your heart, with its chivalrous generosity, its warm young feelings, its scrupulous sense of honour, to that girl of the world with her cold heart ? what would become of you, when you had wearied of her imperial beauty and her haughty sway ? you do not love her.' ' No, I do not, but still ' ' I would rather see you in your grave than the husband of Maud Rivers,' I said, repeating my thought once again this evening. ' Why, Nellie, my little sister, what is it to you ?' he said, strok- ing my hand. ' Yes, call me that, I like it ; you know you are almost as dear to me as Bruce himself; let me help you, and give you sometimes a sister's counsel as well as a sister's sympathy.' For answer he pressed my hand to his lips. ' Dear Nell, noble Nell, what a treasure you are, what a treasure ycu will be ! alas, how one's hopes fall to the ground mercilessly like withered leaves ! ' And as he said this, all at once I felt and understood that Her- wald had had some dim idea in asking me to Hurst-hall, that I might remain as its mistress, and that this hope had been frustrated on the first evening, when Keith's name was mentioned; but that as it was scarcely developed, it had been easily destroyed ; if it had not been so, he must have surely found out in a few days how little we were suited for each other. Besides, O Herwald, in spite of your noble nature, your generous affections, your princely halls, there is one whose little finger is dearer to me than them all, dear brother Herwald ! When next he spoke I quite started. ' Consider this all unsaid : you are right, I do not care for Maud Rivers ; I admire her certainly, but I detest her pride, haughtiness, and egotism, and she treated you shamefully to-night, my poor Nellie ! No, I would not marry her if the Indies were her dowry; I was only teazing you and tempting you to tell me your thoughts ■ heigho! I suppose I must wait a little longer for what I want°; per- haps, after all, till Rill has grown up.' Here Dudley re-entered, and Herwald dismissed me to borrow colour from my rosy room ; and as he said this the old incrry smile came back to his lips. NELLIES MEMORIES. 113 CHAPTER XII. 'So innocent, arch, so cunning, simple, From beneath her gathered wimple Glancing with black beaded eyes.' — Tennyson. THE next morning Herwald said, ' We must do something to-day to efface the remembrance of that unfortunate visit of yesterday ; and I cannot think of anything better than going to take tea at the Vaughans'. I am sure you will like them, and I can answer for their welcome ; so we will dine at luncheon-time, and order the carriage at four o'clock, for it is three-quarters of an hour's drive to Rose Cottage, if not more.' Dudley was so charmed with the idea, that I think he must have heard more of Arthur Vaughan than I had, and as Herwald seemed to look upon the excursion in the light of a treat, I said nothing, though I would rather have enjoyed a long quiet day at home. Soon after I went up to prepare for my ride. Patty Greenwood's habit was well made and fitted me very tolerably, and suited well the black Spanish hat and feathers that Louie had lent me on my visit to the North. As I came down the staircase the young men were waiting for me in the hall beneath, and on seeing me, both began to clap their hands, and cry — 'Bravo, very well got up,' till I felt quite hot, and feared to get entangled in the long narrow train to which I was so unaccustomed. ' What a formidable Amazon you look, Nellie ; I wish Rotten Row were nearer.' Upon which I told them they were very rude, and asked them how I was to mount 'This way,' laughed Herwald, lifting me up bodily, and placing me on the saddle ; ' now for the first lesson on the curb and snaffle.' I listened, mystified, as Herwald gathered up the reins and showed me how to hold them, and told me their respective use ; and then mounting his spirited Arab, and charging me not to be frightened, I presently found something moving under me, and myself catching at the pommel of my saddle ; but Herwald kept his hand on my reins, and laughed at and encouraged me alternately, till, finding I did not fall off as I expected, I presently gathered up courage, and in another quarter of an hour was cantering between the two, with a delicious sense of novelty and freedom. That canter became almost a gallop, when we reached the moor, and the horses snuffed the breezy air. Herwald with difficulty held in his im- petuous Arab, and Marmion so snorted and strained at the curb, that Dudley was obliged to give him his head, and put a mile of distance between us. 'Capital,' cried Herwald, as we walked our horses slowly up the I tU NELLIES MEMORIES. avenue, ' I shall make you a first-rate horsewoman in half-a-dozen lessons. What a colour you have ! ' The ride had certainly excited and done me good, though I was woefully stiff and tired and glad to take to a couch after dinner, while they played billiards ; and I was in the middle of a most refreshing nap, when they roused me with the information that I had only twenty minutes to dress in ; for the carriage was already coming round. We were just leaving the lodge gates, when Maud Rivers can- tered by on her g-ay mare followed by a groom ; she reined in her horse to inquire where we were bound to. ' Rose Cottage.' A slight frown knitted her broad forehead, and then she waved her hand and galloped off. Herwald laughed saucily. ' She and Miss Milly are old enemies ; look, there is the Grange, Arthur and Milly's old home.' Through the trees we caught sight of the heavy stacks of chimneys, and the afternoon sun streaming redly on many a mul- lioned window and gabled end. ' It seems a grand old place,' I said, and then he whispered me to look at Sophy, the doctor's pretty niece, smiling up at him under her broad hat, as she drove past in her lover's gig. Zephyr and Vixen pranced along so proudly and so swiftly, that we reached our destination long before the time Henvald had specified. ' There is Rose Cottage,' he said, eagerly, ! and there I do believe is Arthur.' It was a little one-storied cottage standing by itself on the edge of the moor, in a sheltered hollow ; its front entirely covered by a beautiful Virginian creeper just donning its autumn livery of brown and crimson ; with a small garden full of bright-coloured flowers, and a trellis-work porch with a passion-flower climbing over it. Nailing up the creeper was a young man without his coat, who was turning his back to us, and so fully occupied with his work and the song he was whistling, that he never heard the carriage stop, till Herwald shouted out, 'Arthur, Arthur,' when he looked round, caught sight of his friend, and ran quickly to the gate. ' Well, old Arthur.' ' That's a good fellow,' were hastily exchanged as they grasped hands, and then without a bit of shame at his shirt-sleeves and soiled hands, he warmly responded to Herwald's introduction to his friends, and then assisted us out. As he led us up the pebble- paved path, I felt terribly disappointed in Arthur Vaughan ; he might be good, he might be clever, he was a gentleman, but he was the plainest man I had ever seen. He had a sickly-looking face, weak eyes, sand-coloured hair, and spectacles ; he might have been any age from twenty to thirty-five, and had a stooping figure, and a slight halt when he walked, which made him seem awkward at first sight. The only thing that struck me in his favour as we NELLIES MEMORIES. IIj stood talking in the porch were his beautifully shaped hands, a pleasant voice, and singularly sweet smile. ' How is Miss Milly ?' asked Herwald at last. ' Oh, I forgot her for the moment ; she will be so delighted to see you. Milly, Milly,' he cried, darting into the dark passage, ' Milly, where are you ?' A distant chirping voice replied, and there came tripping out the prettiest little dark lady, such a dainty little creature, with large soft eyes, and glossy black hair knotted behind her small ears ; and rustling in the crispest of muslin. ' Petite, mignonne, and spirituelle,' I said to myself, and watched Herwald to see if this were drawn from the life. He was holding out both his hands and clasping hers warmly. ' I need not ask you how you are, Miss Milly, for you look better and brighter even than when I last saw you, not a bit grown in my three years' absence.' * No,' she said, softly, ' I am but a little creature ; are those your friends, Mr. Delorme?' looking at me. 4 Yes, guess who they are.' ' Oh I know,' said Milly, cordially taking my hand, 'this is Miss Nellie Mortimer, from Sunnyside, and this is Mr. Dudley,' glancing up with shy bright eyes to meet Dudley's smile. ' Is it possible you recognize them from my description ?' asked Herwald eagerly. ' No, I have not looked at them enough for that,' said the little lady ; ' I guessed it from your pleased face ; I am so glad you have met your dear old friends again, very, very glad.' ' That speech is like you, Milly ; but now tell me, have you expected me to come and see you before this ? I have been at home a whole month.' ' No ; I knew from your letter to Arthur that you were very busy, and we have been away ; so if you had called before, you would have found Rose Cottage quite empty.' ' I am glad I did not come then ; where have you been ?' ' It was holiday time you know, and we went to a cousin's at Oxford ; the Willoughby boys were with their grandmother at Chepstow ; if they had gone on the Continent, as they planned, Arthur was to have accompanied them.' ' Yes, I was glad to be spared these two months of boredom ; it is slow work going over old places one has visited in happier times, and Milly and I have had a pleasant three weeks' trip.' ( Is your cousin going to do anything for you ?' ' He is doing all I want him to, looking out for an appointment that will suit me, and canvassing a few big wigs, but nothing has come of it yet.' ' I am sorry for it Arthur :' and then Milly asked me to come in and take off my bonnet. I followed her through the dark passage and up the narrow nS NELLIES MEMORIES. winding staircase, and then into a little bowery room, looking so fresh and clean with green paper and white dimity hangings. It reminded me of the description of Lucy Graham's room at Pear-tree Farm, and I stole to the lattice window, half expecting to see ' the apple orchard, and the pool by the alder trees, where the black cattle came to quench their thirst,' but only saw a narrow lawn with a mulberry tree in the middle, a green door leading to a few out- houses and fields, and beyond and around, the open moor. It was pleasant to see Milly waiting upon me, standing on tiptoe to reach my bonnet, smoothing my collar, folding my shawl, and then softly lay her hand on my crape sleeves, and look at me with her tender eyes full of pity, till I quite longed to kiss the little dark loveable face. ' It is very sad, but I too have lost my mamma, Miss Nellie ; may I call you Miss Nellie?' ' Call me Nellie, pray, I shall like it much better,' I said softly, with a feeling of quick appreciative friendship for the Tittle creature, ' May I ? then I will ; oh, you cannot think what a grand beauti- ful mamma she was, and so clever ; she knew, oh, ever so many languages, and played the guitar, and sang divinely ; she has taught me some of her canzonettes, but my pretty rose-wood piano is sold, so I can't sing them. She came from Spain, did mamma, and brought so many beautiful things with her; real lace mantillas and inlaid fans, but she liked England best, because it was papa's country ; and she loved him so that she never married again, though she had many offers.' ' That was for the sake of her children.' ' Oh no, it was out of love for papa ; though she was such a young widow, she never wore anything but black afterwards ; when she went out black velvet and diamonds. ' Poor mamma, it broke her heart being turned out of her old home ; she could not bear the Cottage, she said she could not breathe in it ; the walls and ceilings seemed as if they were falling in on her, and she was always talking of going to her cousin's chateau at Valencia, only she was too ill for the journey. Arthur being tutor to the Willoughby boys vexed her too very much, for she was proud, they say all Spaniards are ; but, poor fellow, he never complained, though he had many disappointments and had to work so hard. Mamma used to lie and fan herself all day long on the couch in the little parlour, downstairs, and look so ill and sad— oh, those were miserable days/ finished Milly with a little shrug. ' You are happy now ?' ' Oh, so happy,' she said, with a sparkle in her eye ; ' happier than I have ever been in my life, at least since we have learnt to bear her loss, but at first it was very bad. I did not care for the Grange as much as Arthur did ; it was grand, of course, but so dull. I used to have Italian, and music, and singing masters, and had to work so hard, and then I never rode, except when Arthur was at NELLIES MEMORIES. 117 home, but always drove out with my gouvernante or mamma, and took long dull walks, and in the evening mamma used to have me up in her boudoir, which was so hot and faint with musk and atta of rose, and made me read to her stupid Spanish romances, in order to improve my accent. Oh, I am twice as happy now, living in my free busy life, making the bread, churning the butter, feeding my chickens, and stitching Arthur's wristbands ; it is like play keeping house for him, and he is such a dear ugly old darling. What do you think, Nellie, is he not ugly ?' I politely avoided the question — 4 ' He is not at all like you.' ' No, I am mamma on a miniature scale ; he is like poor papa, who was not at all handsome ; but he looks good, does he not ?' — and tripping to the glass, Milly patted down her hair, rearranged her neck-ribbon, and taking a pair of sparkling ear-rings from an Indian casket on the toilet-table, put them on. ' Do you like these, Nellie ?' 'They are pretty, but I like you better without.' ' Do you ?' she said, shaking her drops till they sparkled again; ' well, perhaps they don't suit my old dress,' and she took them off. ' These are the only ornaments I have left, except a topaz cross, and a chain, and locket with papa's hair in it ; all mamma's jewels were sold : come, what a time 1 have been keeping you,' and she ran down, and I followed her. ' Will you walk into my parlour, said the spider to the fly ; it is the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy,' and with graceful fun she put me into an easy-chair, and then began tying on a large white muslin apron. ' My little maid is out, Nellie, so don't be shocked if you see me come in with the tea-tray.' ' May I help you ? ' I exclaimed. ' No, you just sit there and amuse yourself, I insist on it ,' and with a little wilful gesture she ran out of the room. I looked round at the parlour, which was simply but prettily fur- nished, and had an air of refinement about it There were some water-colour sketches on the walls, signed M.V. by Milly's tasteful fingers ; delicate muslin curtains, a canary in a gilt cage, a hanging- basket with some creeping plant, and a maiden-hair fern in the centre-table, and a vase of cut flowers on the mantel-shelf. There were several mementos of past grandeur, a mother-of-pearl work- table, a satin-lined basket, and some handsomely-bound books on the side-cupboards. I was examining one, Arthur Vaughan's school-prize, when Milly reentered with the tea-tray ; and I could not help admiring the costly China cups and saucers ; Milly looked delighted. 1 Yes, they were mamma's, but this great common tea-pot does not suit them : we want our silver service.' nS NELLIES MEMORIES. I took up the delicate little violet and gold cup, to examine it more closely. ' Bridget broke one of them, carrying out the tray one day ; I had a good cry over it — for I love these old tea-cups ;' and then she went and came tripping backwards and forwards with one thing after another, till she set out the prettiest little tea-table imaginable. A crusty new.loaf, butter with the globules of wet still clinging to its firm creamy surface ; new-laid eggs in a moss nest, purple mul- berries nestling in their leaves, brown Windsor pears, honey in the comb, and honey out of it, and freshly baked biscuits looking temptingly crisp. ' If I had known you were coming, we would have had a syllabub ; Henvald is so fond of syllabub ; and oh, I have not a piece of the Dundee seed-cake left ; I must get him some cranberry jam instead ;' and she went jingling out with a great bunch of keys. When she returned, Arthur popped his head in at the window. 1 Milly.' 'Yes, Arty dear?' ' Put out another tea-cup, Mr. Clive has stepped in.' Milly coloured a little as she bustled about again ; and then clapped her hands as signal for the gentlemen to come in. Oh, how the four men filled up the tiny room, and what a squeeze and com- motion there was till all was settled. Milly received Mr. Clive with the shy grace with which she had welcomed Dudley, and gave him the seat of honour at the tea-tray, Herwald supporting her on the other side, while Arthur took care of Dudley and me. And what a merry little tea-table it was ; though Milly was surrounded by gentlemen paying her attention, and sometimes all at once, she found time to ask me pleasant questions; 'had I enough cream?' ' did I like honey?' and sending down one dainty after another for me to taste ; and as for Arthur, his kind voice and easy conversation won my heart before half an hour was passed. I was surprised to see Mr. Clive's face look so worn when seen close, even his smiles were rare and anxious ; but the slight hauteur he had manifested at the first moment of introduction, vanished and gave place to a, high-bred ease of manner and agreeable though quiet conversation. He seemed to be on intimate terms with Herwald, his face brightened at a word from him, and his tone to Milly was gentle and chivalrous in the extreme ; his haughty head seemed to incline instantly at her slightest word, as she sat there the most winsome and debonnaire little mistress in the world. But what pleased me most was the absence of all false shame, the natural way in which Arthur and Milly entertained their friends in the poor cottage ; no reference made to past grandeur after Milh/s girlish talk upstairs, no apologies for scant room and small allow- ance of tea-spoons. When Milly wanted her tea-pot refilled Arthur went laughing to the kitchen to replenish it, and on the second time Herwald insisted on doing the same. NELLIE'S MEMORIES, 1.9 1 Nonsense,' he said, on Milly's protesting, with a heightened colour, that there was no need ; 'as if I did not know the kitchen and the great black kettle by this time,' and he vanished, gingerly holding the teapot as if it were alive. Piesently from the distance sounded a most fearful feline squall ; Milly turned pale and wrung her hands, exclaiming — 'Poor pussy, my poor Minnie, he's certainly killed her,' and ran out of the room. Then followed many endearing epithets on Milly's part, and most coaxing entreaties on Herwald's to pussy to do something or go somewhere, and just as Arthur with a smiling apology was going after them, they re-appeared, Herwald.in a state of suppressed laughter, and Milly half crying. 'What on earth has happened?' Herwald shook his head as he deposited the unlucky tea-pot and kindly said — ' Oh Arthur, poor pussy, he's spilt a lot of scalding water over her tail, and she's gone up the scullery chimney, and we can't get her down.' There was a perfect shout of laughter, in which the culprit joined ; even Mr. Give, to whom she looked for sympathy, smiled gravely. 'Nevermind, Milly,' said her brother, 'she'll be all right directly. I dare say it is as much the sight of a strange man as her burns, that drove her up the chimney ; leave her alone and she'll be sure to come down directly.' So peace was restored, but the little mistress's fun was subdued, till on Arthur's proposal to go into the back garden, which was only to be reached by our passing through the kitchen, she found to her joy poor Minnie sitting on the hearth and licking her injured tail in comparative tranquillity. Milly and I sat on the low bench under the mulberry-tree, Mr. Clive lying on the grass at our feet ; the other three walking to and fro on the narrow lawn in cheerful talk. Mr. Clive began telling us of a sad case he had just been to see, in which he was interested, and Milly asked him after one or two others that had come under his notice lately, and with the details of which he had made her acquainted. He answered her, and then remarked sadly — ' These things are cruel and heartless, as you say, but it is 2 hard and cruel world, and full of very sorrowful things ; one meet: with such every day.' ' Nay, Mr. Clive, you shall not say that,' said Milly, 'it is a beau- tiful world, there is trouble in it of course, but there is happiness enough to counterbalance it. You are affected by what you have seen to-day, or you would not speak so ; who can say life is bitter and hard and unlovely on such an evening as this, looking up at that glorious setting sun, and this blue sky, smiling over our heads ? Oh, Mr. Clive,' cried earnest Milly, ' and you a clergyman too.' iao NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 1 Yes,' he sighed, ' and I a clergyman ; but we look on different sides of the same picture, you and I ; not every one has your rose- coloured spectacles, Miss Milly, more's the pity, and your bright lot has been so sheltered, thank Heaven.' She stopped him gravely, and with a little dignity. ' I think, Mr. Clive, you must own that trouble is not unknown to me. Do you think it is nothing,' she continued, the tears gather- ing to her soft black eyes, ' to lose a home such as ours — nothing to exchange wealth for poverty, luxury and ease for work and com- parative privation? — Do you think it is not a trouble for me, to see Arthur's bright prospects destroyed, and him bearing daily drudgery so patiently — nothing to lose our mother, and to be alone and orphans in the world — is this nothing?' and her little plump brown hands worked indignantly. The clergyman's half- veiled eyes rested on her face as she spoke, with a look of pity, ' You have mistaken me ; far be it from me to say your life has been free from trouble. This discipline which is to fit you for a higher and better existence has indeed been nobly borne ; we know,' and his voice became low and liquid as he spoke, — ' that no chastening seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; yours has doubtless appeared so to you, and it is not for me to invite comparison with other lots harder still ; but oh, Miss Milly, it was not of trouble such as this which I spoke, when I called life cruel and bitter ; things such as these bring no sting with them : no indeed, thank God, this is not the canker-worm that is life-destroying ; believe me, there are those who have gone through life, bearing such strange and hidden scars, such thorn-laden crosses, such worn and suffering hearts, that it is a mystery and temptation of doubt to know why Heaven permits such lingering torture and yet suffers them to live. Oh, Miss Milly, there are worse martyrdoms than the visible cross, or the wild beasts of Ephesus, than the faggot and the stake of old times ; there is that which destroys, yet will not kill, which saps life of joy, of comfort, of peace even ; and when the veil is withdrawn from all human hearts, these will be acknowledged as the true martyrs, who have borne the burden and heat of the day.' Through the thin blue-veined hand his eyes looked wearily up to the sky as if they would pierce its very depths, and his lips moved slightly as if in prayer. 'Mr. Clive,' said Milly in a pained tone, 'do not talk so; it grieves me to hear you, you cannot have known such suffering as this?' ' Pardon me, Miss Vaughan, I was not speaking of personalities.' ' Oh ! forgive me,' she said, looking at him so imploringly that his momentary hauteur vanished, ' something in your voice was so sad that I feared you were speaking of yourself ; but of course in your ministerial capacity you must have a large experience of hearts and human life.' NELLIES MEMORIES. 121 He did not answer her, but lay for awhile with shaded eyes, till suddenly and abruptly, as I thought, he turned to me. ' Miss Mortimer, you think a great deal, your face shows it ; do you imagine that there is balm to be found for wounds such as I have been describing ? ' The wan weary face evoked my sympathy. ' Can you ask, since the sting was taken away from death ? Has not everything its appointed cure ? ' ' No,' he said, ' there is no real cure for remorse.' 'Because there is no such thing with the Christian, for with him, remorse merges into repentance, and repentance brings its never- failing consolation.' ' But must not man pay the penalty of his short-sighted weak- ness ? ' ' I suppose so, to a certain extent, but you know the old saying, " the wind is tempered to the shorn lamb ;" and even to these gusts and storms of human passion there shall come a " peace, be still." ' A sweet smile broke over his face, and then he looked at Milly ; a look so sad, so yearning, so tender, that she must have read it, for a conscious colour reddened over face and neck, and rising, she said — ' We are becoming sad, talking like this, so I shall show Nellie my pretty white cow to raise her spirits.' We went together, but as she unlocked the little green door, Mr. Clive was at our side again. ' The sight is no novelty to you,' said Milly, playfully. ' I« that a pretext for ridding yourself of my company ? I am very fond of visiting your pretty white Cherry.' "Mr. Delorme sent her to us,' said Milly, 'and he gave me the beehive too ; he has promised me a glass hive next summer for the front garden ; and, look, this brood of bantams are from Huist- hall too.' ' Ho, Tiney, and lo, Tiney, and pretty little cow, stand still,' sang Milly, as Cherry, jangling her bell, t06sed up her head and scampered round the yard. ' Steady there, lass,' and she patted her sleek satin skin. ' Cherry never behaves like the Tiney of the song ; she never kicks me or her pail either, but gives me freely her sweet new milk : now come and see old Molly.' Old Molly was a sow feeding at a trough with her curly-tailed litter of pigs. I had a wholesome dislike for the unclean tenants of the sty, and I was accordingly surprised, and I think Mr. Clive too, at hearing Milly's coaxing remarks to old Molly, and to see her stroking her hairy back with a long stick, till she rushed off snorting with her whirly tail in the air. ' Now I want you to see my thrush's nest in the field, and my red-eyed rabbits, and dormice. Oh, the gate is locked, and Arthur has the key.' 122 NELLIE'S MEMORIES, ' Shall I fetch it ? ' said Mr. Clive, ' but the grass Is long and damp, perhaps you had better not go there.' Milly looked at her neat little slippers, and said 'Very well,' so we turned back to the house ; at the door we met the others. 'You have cut us, Miss Milly,' said Herwald, 'now we are going to cut you ; the carriage is here.' ' Oh, not so soon. Surely, Nellie, you will ask him to stay ; we can't let you go.' ' We must indeed,' said Herwald, who had before told me that he had ordered the carriage early, that we might not overtax their hospitality. 'Now don't you fly off at a tangent ; I am £oing to leave you to unpack the hamper Mrs. Arundel has sent.' ' A hamper ! oh, Herwald, how kind ; what is in it ? ' ' A haunch of venison, and some head of grouse for Arthur, and some Paris chocolate and bonbons for your little self, and I believe Mrs. Arundel has put in some home preserves and hothouse fruits ; but that is hers and Davidson's business.' ' Mr. Delorme,' said Milly, stamping her foot, ' if you have over- loaded it, I shall send it back, I won't have you rob yourself.' ' Dear Miss Milly, do you expect me to eat all my game myself? I should only have sent it to Grev and St. Clair ; I am only sorry they are not my own shot, but this fellow is such an angler, he cares for no other sport.' Milly wrinkled her eyebrows and looked dubious, perhaps she was thinking how her little maid-of-all-work would manage the grouse. ' And, Miss Milly,' continued Herwald in a coaxing tone, ' I have brought you a little souvenir from Rome — a cameo, Psyche's head, I am sure you will like it. You will accept it, will you not ? I have sent it to Liverpool to be set as a brooch.' ' Oh, Arthur, listen to him, the setting will cost as much as the cameo.' ' On the contrary,' said Herwald, provokingly, ' it is rather a costly one, it is beautifully cut.' ' Then I won't have it,' said Milly, decidedly. ' Won't you ? very well, I vow that if you do not instantly accept it, I'll present it to Miss Rivers, she will be charmed I know ; and now I think of it, a little offering will be acceptable.' ' No, no,' cried Milly in a fury, ' she shall not have it, it is mine ; do you hear ! it is mine ; but I will not thank you for it, you are far too generous ' ' Nonsense, wait a minute, I have something for Arthur too, in the carriage;' and he darted away to get it, returning out of breath. ' Now, don't scold me, for wasting my money as your sister did ; I would keep this myself if I dared, but I should become a Romanist and make an idol of it, if it were in my possession, but your mind is stronger than mine' — a.nd he unfolded from many NELLIE'S MEMORIES, 123 wraps an ivory crucifix so exquisitely carved, that its value must have been priceless. ' Bridget will be shocked at her master's heresy ; but never mind, Arthur, hang it up fearlessly in your eyrie' 1 ' My dear boy, I am not a muff, and I am not going to keep this gem ;' and Arthurs blue eyes peered through his spectacles hun- grily at the beautiful crucifix. ' Then I'll smash it,' said Herwald, snatching it so roughly that Arthur, thinking he meant it, grasped the treasure in sudden fright, and his face quite flushed as he tried to thank his friend. ' Nonsense,' again said Herwald, ' I won't shake hands for that ;' but he did, looking as happy and radiant as a young prince. Herwald showed more to advantage at Rose Cottage than at the Cedars : there he was the listless cynical young aristocrat ; here, among his friends who loved him, he was frank, boyish, and full of life. As we passed into the little dark passage, I whispered some- thing to him to which he gleefully responded — 4 Miss Mifiy, Nellie has proposed a capital plan ; that you and Arthur should spend a long day with us. I will send the carriage for you at eleven o'clock, the day after to-morrow ; so that you, old fellow, may have a couple of hours' fishing before lunch, and after- wards we will have a boat on the river.' ' Oh, what fun,' cried Milly, in her odd childish way ; and then as I said good-bye, she raised herself on tiptoe and kissed me. The last glimpse, as Arthur placed me in the carriage and we drove off, was Milly standing by the gate, and behind her, just in shadow, Hubert Clive. CHAPTER XIII. ' Oh, my cousin, shallow-hearted ! oh, my Amy, mine no more 1 Oh, the dreary, dreary moorland ! oh, the barren, barren shore 1 Is it well to wish thee happy? having known me to decline O'er a range of lower feelings, and a narrower heart than mine. • ••••••• He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.'— Tennytsn. The next day was the first at Hurst-hall that I was allowed to enjoy quietly, and I did enjoy it thoroughly to my heart's content From morning till night nothing occurred to mar its tranquillity ; no stray visitors, no business agents or business letters for Herwald, but one delightful occupation following another. Three hours' work in th 7 e fernery, planting, transplanting, and arranging ; a breezy ride r24 NELLIES MEMORIES. over the moors ; an hour's coze in the library with a book ; an evening passed in company with Beethoven and Mendelssohn; and a moonlight stroll in the park. Punctually at eleven o'clock the following morning the carriage dashed up the avenue, and Milly tripped out in her fresh white muslin, and broad straw hat, and Arthur followed her, looking gentlemanly in his light gray suit. While the gentlemen went off to their sport, eager not to lose a minute, Milly and I wandered leisurely through the conservatories, park, and garden ; and then selecting a shady nook, worked and chatted till the gong summoned us in to the mid-day meal. There we found Mr. Clive waiting our return on the terrace, whom Milly seemed more pleased than surprised to see ; though I own his being there looked to me very pointed. Herwald took it naturally how- ever. ' What, come to swell the number of our oars ? that's right.' Mr. Clive muttered something about a leisure hour, and parochial duties ; but for all that, came with us, as a matter of course, when we crossed the meadows to the river, and embarked in Herwald's pretty pleasure-boat. There we spent the afternoon deliciously, now being swiftly impelled along by our four oarsmen, now drifting lazily with the current ; Dudley and Herwald chaunted now and then some old boating song, while Milly steered and I sat trailing my hand lazily in the cool water. Once we landed, and wandered along the green banks ; while Dudley followed us in the boat. The afternoon was waning into evening when we returned to the house, and I took Milly up to my room to prepare for dinner. ' Oh, the dear room, rose-coloured every bit of it ; how pretty, Nellie ! ' ' Is it not ?' I said; 'it is Herwald's taste, and it was all done for me ; was it not kind ?' Of which self-satisfied little speech I repented, when Mill/s eyes took the same quiet searching look that Mrs. Arundel's had on a similar occasion. Whereupon, not without a covert rebuke for her feminine suspicions, I gave her to underhand once for all the con- nection between us and Herwald, though I am not sure I quite convinced her that that was the whole truth. She brushed out her long black hair thoughtfully, and said nothing. 'What beautiful hair, Milly!' I said, to change the subject, 'and how long !' 1 Yes ; look, I can kneel on it, or if I hold back my head so, I can make it touch the floor ; sometimes,' continued vain Milly, ' when I brush it, it crackles and crisps like a cat's back, and I call Arthur up to admire it.' ' Well,' I asked, smiling, ' does he ? ' ' Of course, though he sometimes calls me a vain puss, or a feminine Absalom ; but once when he was playing with it,' said Milly softly, 'and making believe to strangle himself, I *elt him kiss NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 125 it, poor dear; for would you believe it, Nellie, Arthur loves me ever so much more than 1 do him, though I do care very much for my dear ugly boy, who pets me, and works for me, and tries to make me as clever as himself. Nellie,' she continued, as she knotted and braided up her hair so swiftly with her dimpled hands, 'do you ever think yourself pretty ? ' ' Of course not, Milly ; what an idea !' ' I do ; is it wrong ? but sometimes I talk to myself in the glass, and think what a nice little face I am looking at, and sometimes when I think of all the pretty trinkets and fine new dresses mamma used to buy me, I am ready to cry. Am I very naughty, Nellie ?' and she turned her earnest child's eyes on me. What could I say — I, who had read her secret, and knew why the pretty face was prized and made much of? Was it by a natural sequence of ideas that she should then ask me what I thought of Mr. Clive, and how I liked him ? ' You ought Nellie, for he has taken a great fancy to you ; he told me you had a true woman's face.' I was thankful to be able to say without effort that I liked Mr. Clive exceedingly, though I thought him reserved and a little proud. ' He strikes me, I must say, Milly, as the most melancholy man I have ever seen ; he must have known great trouble.' 'So Arthur says, but I don't know ; I thinks he gets overworked sometimes ; and then it is so dull for him living all alone in that great gloomy parsonage-house, with not a soul to speak to but old Hannah and her husband. It is such a dear old place, with a great lawn, and a sun-dial, and a lime walk, and the rooms are so beauti- fully furnished — those at least that he uses ; he shuts up half. It is a great pity however he does not do as Mr. Hume used to do — give clerical parties, I mean, garden parties and tea-fights for the gentry ; he is obliged, of course, to treat the school children some- times. And then he will not visit enough, and people like to be friendly with their clergyman, and so he is not popular, though the poor worship him. Did you hear how he nursed them at the time of that horrible fever ?' I told her I had. 'Was it not brave and heroic, when every one else was running away ? but I wish he would make the gentry love him too ; I often tell him it is wrong to make distinctions.' ' He seems to come to you often enough.' 'Yes, to see Arthur, he is very fond of Arthur. I give him a lecture sometimes when he comes, and tell him he ought to go to other houses than Hurst-hall and Rose Cottage, but it is all no good ; only Miss Rivers manages to get him now and then, and I don't care for him to go there.' ' That looks as if you want to monopolize him.' ' I — he does not come to see me, but Arthur — I tell you he and Arthur are great friends, and they like each other very much.' 126 NELLIES MEMORIES. Perhaps so, pretty Milly ; only, why start and flush and plumS yourself with such trembling hands ? The little love story I was reading from life inspired me with a tender interest ; and all that evening I watched Milly's pretty ways, half childish, half womanly, as by a thousand little unconscious acts she showed her preference for the young clergyman — watched her, as one human sister should watch another, with deep and loving sympathy. When I had seen the happy little creature nod her last adieus from the carriage door I went into the deserted drawing-room, and Herwald followed me. ' Dudley has gone down the avenue with Clive for a moonlight stroll, but I am so stiff from rowing that I begged off. What a nice day we have had, thanks to you, Nellie ; I have never enjoyed one more. Don't you like that sweet little Milly ?' • She is a darling, so childish, so unaffected, so loving ; but, Herwald, it is clear that there will be a match some of these days.' For answer he stared at me. ' It is easy to see who thinks Milly the dearest little thing in the world too ; and as for her, poor child, her heart has long ago been won, I believe. Mr. Clive is indeed a happy man.' ' Nellie,' said Herwald, with a sudden sternness in his look and voice, ' what nonsense are you talking about Mr. Clive ?' 'Nonsense !' I repeated, rather nettled, 'I am not quite blind, Herwald, if you are. Mr. Clive's lover-like attentions and Milly's happy acceptance of them are sufficiently palpable, I should think, to every one.' He started up, striking upon the table impatiently. ' I entreat you, Nellie, not to lose your usual good sense ; this is no matter for jesting.' ' Neither do I desire to jest,' I answered, flushing up hotly ; 'you ought to know me better by this time.' ' Then what on earth do you mean by broaching such impossi- bilities ?' he asked, questioning my face with astonished eyes. ' Dear Herwald, if you will listen to me quietly, and not fly out so, I will explain what I mean. You cannot imagine I wish to mock you or your friends. I say again, it is easy to see Mr. Clive dotes on Milly Vaughan, and she, dear little creature, loves him with all her hea*t.' I was not prepared, as I thus decidedly reiterated my belief, to see Herwald turn pale as death, and clutch the arms of his chair in sudden terror ; and in a moment the miserable idea rushed upon me, that I was cruelly wounding him, that perhaps he loved her himself, else why this unconquerable agitation, this unmistakable terror? In my turn I began to quake. ' Nellie dear,' he said, speaking in a choked, hurried voice, ' unsay all that again, in pity's sake. You cannot mean anything so dreadful, so improbable. Hubert Clive love Milly ?' It was too late to go back now, so I said, hesitating and looking NELLIE'S MEMORIES. \lf down, that I could not but think that Mr. Clive was seeking her for his wife. Herwald threw up his hands with a horrified gesture. ' But he cannot, the idea is absurd. He is a married man.' ' You mean a widower ?' ' I mean no such thing. Poor Hubert has a wife living in a lunatic asylum at Colchester.' It was my turn now to gasp and turn pale ; and for some minutes we said nothing, only looking at each other with horrified eyes. At last I said indignantly — ' Oh, Herwald, it is monstrous ; how dare he, how dare he go on like this if he be a married man ? She does not know it, poor child, and she loves him, as we all of us love once in our lives, with the strength of her innocent heart.' ' I pray heaven that you may be mistaken, Nellie.' ' He is a bad man, he is wicked to do like this/ I exclaimed passionately. 1 No, no, there is an error somewhere ; either he is blind or lamentably weak ; but bad — I tell you that there is not a truer Christian or a more unselfish man than Hubert Clive in this world. Oh, poor Hubert, what a life has his been ! Listen, Nellie, and pity him, ay, pity him from the depths of your woman's heart, for I am going to tell you his story, that you may judge him more leniently, and I shall tell it from the very beginning. ' Hubert Clive is of noble birth ; he was the sixth and youngest son of a needy peer, and for him as for his four elder brothers there was little or no provision. As for the heir, he early provided himself with a rich wife, and lived merrily, though not too wisely, on her money ; and for the others, two entered the army, and fell fighting for their country, one went to sea, and the fourth picked up, somehow, an attach^ to the Russian embassy. ' As for Hubert, a good-natured uncle sent him to the university, intending him for the law ; and at the close of a prosperous college career he set up chambers in London and read for his life. This time was the happiest that Hubert ever knew, not only because he was young, happy-natured, and industrious, but because fortune had been kind to him and given him an object for which to labour, and this was the love of his betrothed wife and cousin, Amy Villiers. ' Worldly folks said it was a wild project of old Villiers allowing this engagement between his beautiful heiress and a needy young barrister, but Mr. Villiers had some odd out-of-the-way notions on this subject, and Amy's blue eyes and heart were set on her hand- some cousin Hubert ; and so the old story was suffered to be told merrily at Grantham House. Mr. Villiers only imposed one con- dition : Hubert was not to marry Amy till he had an income suffi- cient to render him independent of his wife's money, and to this he willingly assented, and the work went cheerfully on. ' Fortune favours the brave ; one day Lord Clive wrote to his 128 NELLIES MEMORIES. son to give up the law, and take orders at once, as a rich living was offered to him, and was to be kept till he could hold it for himself. Now, Hubert had a tender conscience, and he did not like entering the Church for mercenary motives, or even with the idea of hasten- ing his union with Amy ; but when his father came up in person, and represented to him how hardly he could afford even the small income Hubert was drawing from him, and how necessary it was for him to become independent of his family, he reluctantly yielded, and went up to Oxford to take orders. ' His first sermon was preached at Grantham, and Amy came to hear him, and another young lady came too, who had lately arrived at the house for a long visit ; and this young lady was Amy's cousin and friend, Harriette Falconer. Hubert did not much admire this new addition to Grantham, though she was a handsome girl with a dark brunette face and great luminous eyes ; but though he was never more than commonly civil, and seldom looked at her, Harriette Falconer madly and wickedly dared to love her cousin's betrothed with a love that was hopeless and foolish enough. ' Time went on, and Hubert was delicately but earnestly wooing Amy, who had suddenly turned wilful, and refused to fix the time for their marriage, alleging that she was too young, and he too, to settle down. ' " I am not good enough for a clergyman's wife," she would say, "and I want a little more fun and gaiety before I go and bury my- self in that prim old parsonage. Don't tease me any more about it, till after our great ball on the tenth of next month ; you know, papa says we can never attend properly to two things at a time, and I want this to be the most splendid affair the county has seen for years." '"But Amy," Hubert answered sadly, "how can you care for these gaieties from which my cloth excludes me? you must know I can take no part in the coming ball." ' " Oh yes, you can, you must ; you can't dance, I suppose, but you can stand and look on, and make yourself agreeable, and be ready if I want to talk to you, and not be jealous if I notice other people ; for it is my birth-day fete, you know, and papa has ordered me a set of torquoise and diamonds ; and it would look so strange if you were not there ; do be good, Hue dear, and do just as I ask you." ' So Hubert stroked the golden curls and promised ; and as he left her, he came upon Harriette Falconer just entering, with her face lit up with a strange triumphant expression. ' He passed her with the curt word and smile which was all he ever gave her ; but it would have been well if Hubert's sleepy gray eyes had opened themselves to watch her more, to detect her skilful manoeuvres, her cruel stealthy game ; but only occupied with his idol, he took no notice of the quiet, dark girl who so often crossed his path. But, alas for him ! in Harriette's subtle, strong hands, NELLIES MEMORIES. 129 Amy's weak impressionable nature was plastic as clay in the hands of the potter ; hinted innuendoes, covert sneers, cold sarcasms at the model young clergyman, the gray dreary parsonage-house, the dull monotonous life to which his wife would be condemned, all worked like leaven, till the whole girlish heart was leavened. The night of the ball arrived. Hubert, in his quiet clerical dress, stood and watched Amy in azure clouds of gauze being whirled before him in the dizzy waltz ; watched with pangs of jealousy more easily felt than described. Once he caught hold of her as she passed. ' " Amy, I want to speak to you." ' " Yes, darling," and Amy put on her most coaxing face, and shook out the curls the dance had disarranged, till the jasmine buds of her wreath trembled again. It was very pleasant to be called darling by an angel in a blue cloud, and so Hubert felt, and it was in a gentler tone that he said — ' " Amy, I do not think it looks well for you to be dancing so often with Sir Ralph Percy; you have been with him half the evening." ' Amy's eyes stole towards the heavily moustached Guardsman, who was again approaching to fetch her, and said quickly— ' " This time I must, for I am engaged, but after that I will take care ;" and smiling in her cousin's face she suffered Sir Ralph to take her away. ' " What muffs clergymen look in a ball-room," said Amy's partner, with a sneer, quite ignoring the fact that it was her finite £ of which he spoke. Amy coloured, but did not reply, but all the rest of the evening Hubert felt rather than saw how she avoided him. ' The next two or three weeks that followed the ball were not happy ones ; Amy became more captious and difficult to please day by day, and the more she frowned on Hubert the more she smiled and coquetted with Sir Ralph Percy. ' One morning Hubert called, and went up as usual unannounced to his cousin's boudoir to find it empty ; Amy's golden head was not bending over her embroidery-frame, and while he waited, im- patiently toying with the little glove that lay on the table, Harriette came down, the tears streaming from her eyes, a letter in her hand. ' " Read diat, my poor, poor friend," she cried. ' Hubert was not a man physically or mentally strong, and when he had snatched the letter from her hand, and seen at the bottom of the page, " Your affectionate cousin, Amy Percy," he sunk down half fainting, like a girL It was a cruel blow, for if ever man loved a woman, Hubert loved Amy ; and the agony of mind he suffered in consequence brought on brain fever. ' When he arose from that long weary sickness, and was able to take his place in the pulpit again, the first thing that met his sight was Sir Ralph biting his heavy moustache in the pew beneath, and K 130 NELLIES MEMORIES. Lady Percy beside him, her girlish beauty heightened by bridal finery. It was pride that bore Hubert through that and many succeeding services ; and presently Sir Ralph ceased to come, and after that Amy. 'All that my poor friend wished at this time was to be left alone to his misery, but there was one whose continual coming wearied him beyond measure. It was Harriette, whose flowers, fruit, books, and proffered sympathy were alike irksome ; yet how could he be ungrateful for such kindness? How look coldly on one whose sad pale face testified how she felt for him ? ' Presently, so lonely was his outer life, so dreary the void within, he ceased to dread her visits, nay, liked and encouraged them, believing he had found a true friend. I do not know how it happened, whether Harriette purposely betrayed herself and the love which had taken its root in a curse ; but one day Hubert knew he was beloved, hopelessly, faithfully, it seemed to him. Then, with a generosity unparalleled in men, he swore another human being should never suffer what he had suffered ; and that if Harriette, who had been so true a friend to him in his misery, could be content with mere esteem and friendship, he would make her his wife. It was what she had toiled and worked wickedly for ; it was not she that would say him nay. ' So Hubert took her home to the gray old parsonage ; and in the parsonage pew, where he had hoped to see the sweet girl face framed in its golden hair, sat Harriette Clive with her dusky face and luminous black eyes. ' Oh, woe for the day when he took her home as bride ; before two months were over that awful temper displayed itself, which was the precursor of insanity. Almost before the honeymoon was out he had seen the dark handsome face convulsed and livid with passion, and had heard words that " vexed his righteous soul." ' What he suffered that year is known only to him and heaven ; Hubert sometimes compares it shudderingly to a hell upon earth ; sensitive as a woman, and with the finest moral feelings, he felt himself defiled, coming in contact with that stormy debased nature. Then and nat till then he knew who originated and widened the breach between him and Amy ; who had encouraged Sir Ralph, and assisted them in their work of treachery. Every occasion he gave her for jealousy ; and hers was " cruel as the grave," and could be evoked by a trifle ; she tore open the festering wounds ; she taunted him with the old dear life ; and had not this time had an end, Hubert must have died, or fled, or gone mad ; the man was growing haggard and miserably ill. At last to Harriette was vouchsafed the divine rights of maternity ; and there was given to her a boy, beautiful as an angel, and with his father's eyes. 'When Hubert took his first-born in his arms, his whole inner being was stirred within him, and a flood of tenderness rose up in his heart for his boy. He forgot it was Harriette's and not Amy's NELLIES MEMORIES. 131 child, he forgot the cruel taunts and sneers, the old miserable life, as he wept and prayed over his treasure. Long hours he watched silently by the cot of the wondrous boy ; stroking the crumpled fingers, and gazing on the innocent baby face — but alas for him, Heaven had not ordained that this should be the " son of his consolation." One night when the drowsy nurse slept, Harriette rose up and strangled her child.' ' Oh, Henvald, Herwald,' I half screamed, 'how horrible.' ' They knew then the girl was mad — would they had discovered it before ! and as soon as they could move her, they took her to the Colchester asylum, and there she has been ever since. 'When this terrible event was bruited abroad, Hubert fled, a curate did his work, and he never again showed his face in Grant- ham parish. 'When he returned from his wanderings, he exchanged his living for one half its value, where he is now ; and here he lives and works and preaches, carrying day by day the cross that has eaten so deeply into his flesh. Here he resides in his dull old parsonage- house, half of which is shut up, patiently enduring life ; time has wrought some good, but the melancholy is deep-rooted, and never, I fear, to be wholly effaced ; at least while Harriette inhabits her dreary prison. You can hardly read this tragedy in the proud weary face, but at least you can understand the lifeless delivery, the crushed broken heart.' 'And what of Lady Percy?' ' I saw her once some time ago ; they live some eighteen miles from here, in a place Sir Ralph has recently bought ; but I assure you, that in the haggard sickly face I scarcely recognized the beau- tiful Amy, Hubert described. Ah ! she sowed the wind to reap the whirlwind. Sir Ralph is a hard, stern husband to her, not cruel in actual ill-usage, but prodigal of coarse sneers and contemptuous language, which most surely crush a woman's heart. 'That she is childless does not mend matters, for Sir Ralph ardently desires an heir ; and so she drags on a weary existence, an unloved, unhonoured wife. Hubert knows this, and it forms no slight portion of his daily trial. Tell me, Nellie, do you not pity the man ?' ' I do, I do, Herwald, with all my heart and soul ; but oh, not even this can excuse him from appearing to be what he is not.' ' I have often told him that it might lead to wrong, but I never thought of anything like this ; and he could not bear his miserable story to transpire. Oh, Nellie, what shall we do ?' ' Only one thing ; I must go to-morrow and warn Milly, somehow. 1 ' You ?' said Herwald, with a mixture of surprise and admiration in his tone. 'Yes, there is no one else, only a woman can break it gently enough ; but I would go a hundred miles rather than have to do it, poor unconscious Milly.' 132 NELLIES MEMORIES. ' You have a brave, tender heart, Nellie ; you are a true woman. Go on your sad errand, and Heaven be with you. I see it now, she does like him ; oh, why was I so blind ? What, what will Arthur say?' 'Oh, what indeed, Herwald ? you must expostulate with Mr. Give ; he cannot be suffered to go there day after day ; we must spare the dear child.' ' I — I shall not have the courage, Nellie.' 'You must — but hush, here comes Dudley. I will ride over before lunch, remember. Herwald, good-night.' Herwald's hand was quite trembling and cold as it touched mine, and my own was no better, and short and restless was the sleep of both of us that night. CHAPTER XIV. ' Ae fond kiss, and then we sever, Ae farewell, alas, for ever ; Deep in heart -wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who can say that fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him ? Me na cheerful twinkle lights me. Dark despair around benights me.' Robert Burns, The great park lay shimmering and sparkling in the morning sun. Only the faintest of breezes stirred the old tree tops, eliciting rustling whispers in return ; millions of dew-drops still rung their noiseless silver bells ; the insect world was astir, and the air jubilant with bird choruses. Slowly from between the beech-trees came the meck-faccd does to crop their dainty herbage, and look around them with shy bright eyes ; while their fawns gambolled in the dell-like hollows and round the moss-patched trunks, and up and down the slanting sunny glades. All was light, gladness, and perfume, morning joy and morning breezes ; yet, O Divine Giver of Good, Thou alone canst tell what this day shall bring forth to me and all of us. A gloomy night-vision is clinging round me, a feverish restlessness from last night's talk and resolution, and through it all an old refrain is haunting my lips with its quaint rhythm and sweet expression of hope — ' Be the day weary, be the day long, Presently ringeth to evensong ; ' and as I slowly repeat it, I have a strange longing for this day to be over and gone, and then I stretch out my face to the cool morn- ing air with the weary gasping of one to whom night has been a long misery and unrest. Suddenly the stillness is invaded, the does timidly retreat to sylvan fastnesses, quick footsteps brush the dew NELLIES MEMORIES. 133 and crisp the few early fallen leaves, and then I see Allan's stalwart . form and bronzed beard as he strides rapidly down one of the broad glades, the tawny muzzled hounds following him with drooping head. Presently one stops, listens, and utters an uneasy whine, which ends in Leo's well-known muffled bark ; Max chimes in lustily, and as if in obedience to a distant whistle, they race back to the house. Allan stops too, and leans with folded arms against a tree ; and I know it is the master long before I see him cross the park with his erect young head and careless springy step, then pause with cheery greeting at Allan's side. I watch them disappear, and then rousing myself from lazy reverie, hasten my toilette, and after half an hour's quiet read, go down to the chintz parlour. 1 found Herwald sitting at the breakfast-table opening letters and cutting the newspapers while talking to Dudley. The morning stroll had not given him his usual colour, and his whole manner was flurried and uneasy. ' I have ordered the horses at half-past ten ; is that right, Nellie!' ' Yes, quite '—and then I lean over my plate with a sudden sick- ness of heart 'Where do we ride?' asks Dudley, looking up from his paper wonderingly. ' Oh, to the farm, — I have another hour's business there ; but I have promised to drop Nellie at Rose Cottage on our way.' ' I shall not let her ride at all, unless she eat some breakfast,' replied Dudley. ' Where is your appetite ? have you not slept well, you little white mouse?' Herwald looked across at me with an uneasy smile, and I answered nervously ; for I had a feeling that Dudley's quiet eyes were scanning our faces, and had found out that all was not right ; nothing was said, however, and as soon as I dared I ran out of the room to don my riding-habit. As Herwald mounted me, he whispered 'Courage, Nell; it may all be a mistake;' but I shook my head mournfully as I stroked Larkspur's glossy mane ; some instinct warned me to the contrary. Such a sweet bright morning for our ride, such fresh breezes rippling our hair, such sun -flecked fields and tender cloud-screened skies. The horses danced and curvetted along the smooth white roads, and now and then we halted under the shade to notice some wondrous blending of tints in the landscape, some picturesque nook, some fragments of natural beauty, but through it all the old refrain haunted me — ' Be the day weary, be the day long, Presently ringeth to evensong.' till I grew quite dizzy and confused. 'Here we are; take Miss Mortimer's horse, William,' and Her- wald alighting lifts me off and sets open the little gate that closes after me with an uneasy clang. I scarcely hear his whispered ' God i34 nellies memories. speed you ' as I walk up the little pebbly path, so intently am I looking at the green bowery porch and open door. The click of the gate reached Milly's ears, for she came running out, her dimpled arms bare to the elbow, and her trim figure disguised by a huge floury apron. ' Oh, you dear, good Nellie, to come so soon again ; no, I dare not touch you, I should soil your pretty blue habit ; come in here and sit down and make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you as soon as ever I have put the cakes in the oven ; ' and clapping her little hands she danced out of the room. I neither sat down nor made myself comfortable, a dull pain at my heart forbade that ; the dread of what I had to say, and how she would take it ; so I listlessly turned over one or two books on the table, and then stood at the window looking at Arthur's carefully trimmed flower-beds, and listening to the chirping little voice in the back kitchen. Presently she returned, the hideous bib-apron removed, all fresh and clean in her crisp morning cambric and jaunty blue ribbons. ' You naughty child,' she said, after smothering me with kisses, ' why don't you take off your hat and gloves ? I must do it for you ; ' and acting on her word she smoothed my rumpled hair, and made me rest in the easy-chair. ' Now you will stay with me to-day, won't you, dear ? we shall be alone till dinner-time, when Arthur will be back ; we shall have the grouse for dinner and a mulberry-pudding, and Bridget shall make us some cream sauce. Never mind your habit ; what does it matter ! we will have a long cozy day.' It was hard to refuse her pretty request, but I told her that I had only another week to stay at the Hall, and that Herwald would not like to spare me a whole day, or Dudley either ; so pouting, she reluctantly let me have my way. For a quarter of an hour I sat thus literally on thorns, listening to Milly's joyous prattle, and won- derful scraps of news ; how Sukey, the little black pig, had been crushed by his brothers and sisters ; how there were a dozen little yellow chicks just out of the shell ; and lastly, how Arthur had had that morning a strange piece of luck, in the shape of an anonymous envelope full of bank-notes, directed in a strange hand, from an un- known friend. And then Milly went on to say, how she hoped Arthur would get a new great-coat for the winter with part of it ; and how she was longing for a pretty scarlet cloak, like Abbie Heme wore on Sunday, and so on, and so on — and all the time I was wondering how I was to start the unhappy subject. Suddenly she startled me by herself leading unconsciously to the object of my visit. 1 Mr. Clive called this morning, on his way to church, to tell me poor Betsy Morris died last night' Betsy Morris was the woman whose unhappy life he had related to us under the mulberry-tree NkLLI&S MbMOklbS. \%% that evening. Now was the time — and turning cold all ovei, and with a violent throbbing at my heart, I rushed into it. ' Milly, do you know, Herwald has told me something so strange about Mr. Clive, I wonder if you have ever heard it.' Perhaps my visible paleness and abrupt manner of speaking dis- concerted Milly, for she left off tapping on the floor with her pretty foot, and looked up at me startled. ' Something strange ! no indeed, what can it be ?' ' I told you yesterday that I thought him the most melancholy man I had ever seen ; and you yourself said that it was Arthur's, your brother's, opinion, I mean, that he had known some great trouble.' ' Well,' she said, rather impatiently. ' Well, something I chanced to say last night to Herwald induced him to tell me the history of his life ; it was very sad, Milly, very sad, and very strange, and he has indeed bitter reason for his worn, unhappy face.' She was very pale now, but her soft eyes seemed to ask me to go on. ' It is a long story, and a terrible one, and somehow I cannot bear to tell it ; bat surely, Milly you cannot be ignorant that Mr. Clive is a married man.' 'A widower, Nellie?' It was the same question I had asked Herwald. 'Alas, no! oh, Milly, how shall I tell you? Mr. Clive has a wife living, a poor mad wife, shut up somewhere in a lunatic asylum.' Milly Vaughan did not faint or scream, or become hysterical, when I had thus by one cruel sentence wrecked her life's joy ; but the little dark face grew cold and rigid as stone, and the black eyes suddenly looked wan and hollow, and unnaturally large. ' Do not tell me you were ignorant of this, Milly ; surely, surely you must have known it before ?' It was to say something — for was not the evidence of her igno- rance before my eyes ? ' I did not know,' she said ; and then flushed suddenly, pain- fully, cruelly, till face, neck, and arms became crimson with the shame of having loved unsought. I saw her trying to hide it, trying to speak, crushing the small hands together ruthlessly ; but it was all no good, and muttering something about Bridget and burning cakes, she hurried from the room. I dared not follow her. It came upon me all at once, what a stranger I was to this poor girl, who had so interested me ; what right had I to intrude into her heart's secret ? and yet how could she, so soft, so childlike, so clinging, bear this great trouble alone ? She loved him — ah, there was no denying it, and as I remembered the startled eyes, the small white face, and thought of the shadow that misplaced affection must cast over her young life, my anger was bitter against him whose weak 136 NELLIES MEMORIES. duplicity had been the cause, and my eyes brimmed over with a sudden tide of sympathy. Presently I heard her slow, gliding step, but I would not turn round, till she came up and silently stood by me. The sight of the little weary face touched me inexpressibly, and with a tender word or two 1 stroked her hair. The touch, the word, unlocked the flood-gates of her heart ; two little soft hands suddenly clasped my waist, and laying her head on my bosom she broke out into passionate weeping. I pray Heaven that I may never hear a woman weep as Milly did that day ; my neck was wet with her tears, my heart ached to hear those terrible sobs. As I pressed the trembling little creature to me, I seemed to feel it all, that awful shrinking from suffering, the first startled look into the cup that she must drink to the dregs, and her shuddering anguish at the taste of it Heaven help her, the child has a woman's heart, and as a woman must she love and suffer. I do not know whether she felt my kisses and tears on her face, but presently the torrent of her grief was dried up, and she wept no more. 'Tell me all,' she said, in a low whisper, 'all, all — I cannot believe it' I told her the sad history, touching lightly on its worst points. She never moved or spoke till I had finished, then ' Poor, poor fellow— poor Hubert.' I made answer sternly, ' I cannot forgive him, Milly ; he has cruelly wronged you by his reticence, he has shown pitiable weak- ness.' She laid her hand on my lips, trembling in every limb. ' Don't say that, don't say that, whatever you think. Remember I love him, oh, ever so dearly.' ' He has won that love from you, Milly ; the fault is his, not yours.' ' There is no fault — none, he never asked me for it, he used to come and like to talk to me ; and you know his way ; I thought he loved me. Does he not love me, Nellie ? ' Oh those piteous, yearning eyes. ' I do not know, dear Milly ; but whether he does or not he is very culpable — very; how dare he love any girl with a wife living?' 'But I did not know, Nellie, how could 1?' ' My child ' ' Don't call me that,' she cried passionately, 'no one must call me that ; oh, would that I were but one again,' and she moaned aloud in her misery. ' My poor Milly, you are blameless, indeed, indeed you are, it is he ' ' If you wish to comfort me,' she interrupted, ' do not speak against him, it gives me such cruel pain. I am not angry with him, and no one else has a right to be; I am only very, very unhappy. I must never see him more ; oh, Nellie, I forgot.' NELLIES MEMORIES. 137 'What, love ?' for she had turned white again to her very lips. ' He is coming to-night, I cannot see him, I cannot.' ' Do not fear, darling, he shall not come, we will prevent him, Herwald and I.' 1 Herwald knows then?' and she hid her face. Presently she raised her head, and in a calmer tone than before, and fixing her sweet eyes on me, she said, ' No, I shall never see him again, Arthur will not either, he will be too angry, but you and Herwald must, and I want you to tell him, if he seem pained and miserable about it, that I am not angry with him, that I could not be, that I have not a harsh thought in my heart to him, but that it is only so full, so full of pity. Something tells me that he will suffer greatly when we are parted, and I should like him to know that I shall always love him and think of him as Ave do of the dead, just as kindly and as purely ; but I shall never think of him living lest it break my heart, and I must live for my poor boy's sake.' ' Yes, dear, that is indeed an object that should make you feel strong and brave.* ' 1 mean to be brave,' she answered, and the soft child's eyes looked steadfast in their anguish ; ' ah, never fear for me, I shall be brave enough.' The tiny figure straightened and stiffened itself, and the brown fingers interlaced themselves strongly; oh, Milly Vaughan, it is not I who doubt your spirit ! ' What is that, Nellie? hark!' and as she spoke the ringing of horses' hoofs became audible. ' It is Dudley and Herwald come to fetch me.' ' To fetch you ! oh, must you go ?' and she pressed closer to me and laid her cheek fondly on my hand. ' I fear so, my child ; but I scarcely know how to leave you. When will your brother be back ?' ' Not before dinner, but indeed, indeed it was not for that I spoke ; I shall want a quiet hour sadly, one quiet silent hour in my little room up-stairs. I am so dizzy while I talk to you, my voice sounds as if it belongs to some one else. You will come to me again, Nellie ?' ' Yes, to-morrow.' ' Thank you. Hark, there they are,' as the little gate clicked ; ' let me go, this way/ and she drew me out quickly into the little dark passage. ' It is only Herwald, love.' ' Yes, I know ; don't let him speak to me. Good-bye, good-bye,' and with quick feverish haste she kissed me, and pushed me gently from her. Turning I saw Henvald's watchful eyes on us, looking eagerly towards the little figure shrinking into the dark corner by the stairs. He seemed as if about to take a step forward, but I laid my hand warningly on his arm and drew him out. He detained me anxiously in the porch. I3§ NELLIES MEMORIES. 'Well, Nellie, how fares it with the child ?' ' Sorely, Herwald, sorely. Oh, what a heart-wreck is here ! He paled perceptibly. ' Good heavens, can this really be so ? Alas ! what cruel thoughtlessness, what irreparable mischief will Hubert have to answer for.' ' Hush, Dudley is looking towards us. Listen to me a moment — Mr. Clive is coming here this evening ; you must ride over and stop him, and say Milly is unwell ; make any excuse.' ' I understand,' and the gravity settled down on his face as he arranged my habit, and told Dudley he had business elsewhere, and luncheon was not to be detained for him, and then rode quickly away. Dudley answered gaily, and then we cantered homewards, along the dusty white roads, and under the arching trees ; and the same blue sky smiled down upon us, and the same birds chirruped lustily forth, a ploughboy whistled a merry tune, and a group of sun- burnt urchins cheered us as we passed ; it was the same happy sun- shiny scene of two hours ago, and yet how different. And then out of my full heart I told my brother all — the weakness and the sin, and the love that was founded on the sand, and as I finished it we rode up the old avenue, and slackened rein at the open door. Dudley's sympathy was great, and he quite understood me when I told him I longed for a few hours' quiet, and would meet him and Herwald at dinner-time. I was indeed painfully harassed, and felt weary and unstrung ; so I spent the delicious afternoon in the most retired spot I could find, the summer-house in the wild garden that stood facing the bowling-alley. There among green shadows, and lisli.'oing to the cawing of the distant rookery, I sat gazing up into the intense summer blue, and thinking out the problem of life. At the appointed hour I entered the long drawing-room ; as I did so, some one rose from the couch opposite me, bowed, and came forward with smile and outstretched hand : it was Mr. Clive. In my sudden surprise and terror at confronting him, I could find nothing to say ; and silently took shelter under Dudley's wing, from whence I looked timidly out on the man who was Milly's fate. As I did so, I could not help commenting on the wonderful bright- ness that his face just then wore ; it was what Herwald called his 'Angel Gabriel look ;' there was a warmth of expression, a tone, a colouring, that hid the worn lines, and filled up the haggard out- line ; a look of mingled repose and benevolence shining in the luminous eyes. He and Herwald had evidently been talking earnestly, but not on that ; the pleased interest, the thoughtful smile hardly belonged to that subject. Dinner was announced, Mr. Clive with his usual stately courtesy taking me in ; but as Herwald motioned me to his right hand, the table divided us, for which I was not sorry. Somehow I could not smile and talk to this man as if nothing had happened, as Dudley and Herwald were doing ; for I felt aU NELLIES MEMORIES. 1^9 the more sore and indignant at the sight of his unwonted animation. Nay more, in the irritation of my feelings, I even misjudged Herwald, heading his table with his usual easy grace ; but had I looked deeper, I might have noticed how nervously he spoke and laughed, how anxiously his eyes followed his servants' movements round the table, as if he would hasten them ; and how rarely he met the guest's eyes to whom he was showing such high-bred courtesy. From a silent musing fit into which I had fallen I suddenly roused up to find Mr. Clive expatiating eloquently on the beauty of abstract truth, and defending it against Dudley, who was evidently casting some slur on its votaries. With a sudden intolerable im- pulse, I rushed into the discussion. ' I think I side with Dudley, Mr. Clive — that truth is more preached than practised.' I had been so silent and abstracted all dinner-time, that they all started at my abrupt mode of speech, and Mr. Clive inclined his head courteously as he answered — ' Pardon me, Miss Mortimer, if I presume to disagree with your brother's sweeping assertion concerning poor fallen humanity ; in my opinion the lie direct is rarer than you imagine— save among school-boys and cowards.' ' If you mean by the lie direct a mere verbal falsehood, perhaps you are right, Mr. Clive,' I answered ; 'yet how many men do you suppose, righteous, well-meaning men, act that lie at one time or other of their lives, and are judged not by men but by Heaven ? Is not the one sin as great or greater than the other ; the kiss of Judas more heinous than the lie of Ananias and Sapphira ? ' ' There you are right ; but I do not think I entirely follow your meaning !' Was I going too far? for Dudley was turning red, and Herwald was pushing the claret-jug towards him, with a quick nervous gesture, to hide his embarrassment. ' My meaning is simple enough. In your argument I think you dwell too much on truthful speech, and less on truthful action ; to evade, to disguise, to keep back, part, or the whole of a matter, must be as hurtful to the moral nature as even the lie direct. No one can so sin with impunity ; that which is told in the ear shall be proclaimed on the housetops ; and to the man who seems to be what he is not, be it in matters great or small, only evil can result from it, evil to himself, or to others more innocent of guile than he.' I felt I had said too much when I saw Mr. Clive's ashen face, and the twitching movement of his lips, and I was certain of it when Herwald, rising hastily, proposed adjournment to the drawing- room. Bitterly repenting my one great fault, a tendency to im- pulsive speech, I went out to the terrace and paced disturbedly to and fro. What right had I to meddle with this man's secret life, and to recall to his mind the painful images of the past ? and what good had I done to commence that which I could not follow out? HO NELLIES MEMORIES. The more I cooled down, the more I marvelled at the audacity of my words, and the intolerable but courageous impulse that impelled me to speak them ; and the more I felt how impossible it would be for me to look Mr. Clive comfortably in the face again. Quick footsteps ringing on the terrace behind me interrupted my remorseful soliloquy, and with a sudden terror I turned to find my- self confronting Mr. Clive. ' Miss Mortimer, can you grant me the favour of a few minutes' conversation with you ? I have something particular to say ; may I suggest a turn or two in the shrubberies, where we shall be able to talk more unrestrainedly than here ?' He offered me his arm, which I declined, though at the same time signifying my readiness to accompany him ; indeed, I could do no less, for though the words were courteous, the tone in which he uttered them was peremptory in the extreme, and admitted of no denial ; but oh, Nellie Mortimer, if this will not be a life-long lesson to you never to interfere again in the business of strangers, but rather, like the Levite, ' pass by on the other side.' We had entered the shubberies and were threading their narrow winding paths, crisping the fallen leaves with our feet, but still my companion walked silently by my side, with his white impassive face and his proud sensitive mouth still perceptibly quivering. He seemed to feel it tremble, and once or twice raised his hand to steady it and bit the nether lip till the blood seemed ready to start ; till suddenly and abruptly he wheeled round, and fixing his gray eyes piercingly on my face, as if to read my every thought, said — ' Miss Mortimer, you addressed me just now at the dinner-table in words and tone suggestive of hidden meaning. I do not say you intended to convey such to my mind, but I am terribly sensitive, and something in your manner disturbed me with a vague sense of discomfort. I therefore put the question to you, which I beg you to answer frankly, was your speech purely accidental, or was it — ' he paused for a moment, and then went on, ' was it designedly and un- generously pointed at me ?' Dead silence, only the rustling of the damp crisp leaves, only the chirping good-nights of the birds, only the quick beating of my own uneasy heart. ' Mr. Clive,' 1 said, then faltered and broke down, the last rem- nant of courage oozing rapidly away ; till on his repeating his ques- tion in a patient weary way, I took heart of grace, and spoke : ' I did apply those words to you, Mr. Clive, and I own now that they were ungenerous and unkind.' ' Indeed ! I thought truly, then ; and may I ask what interest Miss Mortimer can possibly take in the affairs of a perfect stranger, and why she should deign to vouchsafe such wholesome and cutting rebukes ?' His manner had changed, there was sternness in his voice, NELLIES MEMORIES. 141 sternness and concentrated bitterness, his brow blackened, his eyes literally flashed, the whole man, as it were, stood at bay. ' What you can know of me and of my life, 1 cannot, nor shall I try to guess. Some chance report has perhaps reached and mis- guided you, for did you know all, or even the greater part, you would scarcely have so insulted the fallen. Tell me, for my honour demands it, what you have heard of me ?' ' Mr. Clive,' I replied, ' I know all ; the betrayed love, the treacherous wife, the ' He stopped me with a face of horror, with a low cry of intoler- able pain, as he wrung and threw up his thin hands with a passionate gesture to heaven. ' How long, O Lord, how long !' I heard him murmur through his bloodless lips, and then he looked at me with eyes so sad, so stern, so reproachful, that I could hardly restrain my tears. ' You, too, Miss Mortimer ; what, is there not one of your sex good and gentle throughout ? — and yet I believe there is one ; in my heart of hearts I believe there is one too !' He spoke of Milly ; alas ! who knew that so well as I ? and then in a moment I seemed to see the weary little face, to feel again my neck wet with her tears ; and in my remembrance of her I tried to steel myself, though all ineffectually, against the man before me. 'You speak of Milly Vaughan, Mr. Clive?' He started and looked at me strangely. ' You have called me ungenerous just now, and have spoken to me harshly, you have a right to hear my defence ; let us walk on, and I will tell you reluctantly and painfully what I know of your unhappy story, and of the existence of that miserable woman who owns your name.' He shuddered all over ; and then, with an effort to keep calm, folded his hands behind him, and walked on beside me. ' I do not ask, I have no right to, why you, a clergyman and a married man, act so as to lead strangers to wrong and injurious suppositions ; but I will tell you, that both my brother and I con- sidered you and Milly Vaughan on the eve of an engagement, and it was my confident and well-pleased assertion of the same that in- cited Herwald to an indignant refutation, and an expose* of the whole sad story ; don't blame Herwald, Mr. Clive, he could do no less — ;' and here I stopped, for the evidence of his blindness and ignorance were before me written legibly on his surprised face. 'You coupled my name with Miss Vaughan's; you could not really have believed that, Miss Mortimer?' I laid my hand on his arm in my earnestness. ' But I did, Mr. Clive ; consider the error you have been led into ; consider how you are even now deceiving her and Arthur Vaughan.' ' But she does not think I mean that?' and he turned so sud- denly on me that he read my answer in my face, I, who would not 142 NELLIES MEMORIES. have betrayed her innocent love for the world, read it with the quickness of one just awaking to the truth. I had hit him now ; he stopped and breathed hard like an animal in pain. ' Is there a curse on me ?' he demanded passionately ; ' is it no* enough that my life is blasted, and must I be doomed to drag another down ? are you going to tell me she loves me, too ? I who never knew till this moment that I loved her ?' ' Be calm, Mr. Clive, you frighten me.' 1 Bid Tantalus be calm, when the water of life flowed to his thirsting lips and he could not drink of it : bid the condemned be calm who have looked into heaven, yet dare not enter. You may do so as well as tell me that Milly loves, and bid me be calm in one breath !' I had not told him, but his mind had grasped the truth. ' Loves me,' he continued ; ' I tell you I love her, but I never knew it : the heavens above be my witness, I never knew it till this minute ; oh, my innocent child ! oh, my wretched blindness ! — what shall I do? I cannot tell her, Miss Mortimer ;' and he wrung his hands and groaned. ' I have spared you that duty, Milly knows all.' ' No, no, all — Harriette's miserable existence ; the horrible deed — the secret — the shame ? all ?' ' Yes, hush, for pity's sake,' for his wildness terrified me ; ' I want to tell you what she said, how lovingly and sweetly she spoke.' ' She loves me,' he repeated again, ' she loves me, I feel it,' and the worn, desperate face softened and grew radiant, transformed even, reminding me of how Hubert Clive must have looked when he first became assured of Amy's heart ; but this mood speedily changed. ' Heaven do so to me, and more also, if I would harm one hair of her innocent head. If I have sinned, it has been in ignorance ; I knew I worshipped the ground she walked on, I knew her pretty ways could charm me in my darkest hours ; but dwelling among the misty horrible images of the past, I never once thought of this ; and now I have wronged her past forgiveness !' I spoke to him soothingly and gently, I gave him Milly's sweet message of peace, I prayed him to have pity on himself ; but though he heard me, and smiled once or twice in a strange un- certain way, he never moved or turned his eyes from the distance where they were fixed on Milly's home just dimly shadowed forth between the trees. At last I stopped quite exhausted, and then the silence seemed to rouse him. ' If in her dear love she forgives me, I can never forgive my- self.' Then stretching out his arms with his eyes full of tears. ' Oh, Milly, darling, why have I ever looked into your child's deai eyes ; oh, Milly, Milly !' and then he broke down. NELLIES MEMORIES. 143 Looking up, I saw Herwald's grave, kind face, and an instant sense of comfort came over me. Passing me without a word, he went up to his friend and laid a hand upon his shoulder. ' Hubert, Hubert !' but the young clergyman gave no heed or answer. ' Hubert, come away with me, come ! ' and guiding him gently as one would guide a sick child, he led him away. Sick at heart, I retraced my steps to the house ; Dudley, leaning over the parapet, was watching for me, and we paced the terrace together, till the twilight deepened into darkness, and the moon shone out cold and bright ; then Dudley bade me come in to tea, as Herwald had evidently gone down to the parsonage and would not be back till late. The little tea-table looked bright and pretty as ever, but we were both saddened by the events of the day, and talked little, and I was glad when Dudley proposed our adjourning to the library and each taking a book. Dudley read his steadily, but I only by fits and starts ; every quarter of an hour I raised my eyes to the clock and strained my ear for a distant footstep. It was half-past eleven when the door-bell pealed through the house, and Herwald came in with a tired face, and threw himself down in his easy-chair. ' What will I take ?' he said in answer to Morrison, who still held the library door ; ' a cup of Mrs. Arundel's best tea, such, Morrison, as will cure a head-ache.' ' Well, Herwald ! ' for he was examining the diamond on his finger, absently, and with knitted brow ; but looking up and meeting my anxious glance, he smiled and roused himself. ' You want my news ? Well, I have left him better, in a calmer, healthier state of mind, though he is terribly cut up, poor fellow. I took him home and talked and argued with him, and as soon as he came to himself he wrote a letter to her, and made me promise to deliver it' 'A letter, Herwald?' ' Yes, and he wished me to read it ; such a brief, beautiful farewell, so touching in its reverential tenderness, and its meek prayer for forgiveness. I stopped at the cottage as I passed and left it.' 'At Rose Cottage? whom did you see ?' I asked eagerly. ' Only Arthur ; he was standing in the porch, and I beckoned him down to the gate. I have been talking for nearly an hour.' ' How does he take it, Herwald?' 'As I knew he would ; all the blood of the Vaughans is up, and a little of his mother's pride besides. He is hot, indignant, won't hear of any excuse, and blames me in the bargain.' ' You, my poor Quixote,' said Dudley. 'Yes, it has given me such a confounded headache ; and he is such an obstinate beggar, dives down into the root of the matter, and swears by yea and nay. Of course we made it up, old Arthur 144 NELLIES MEMORIES. never bears a grudge ; besides, the intimacy is not owing to me, the mischief was done when I was abroad.' ' And what about Milly ? you have not told me that' ' He says she behaves beautifully and is quite calm and resigned. Oh, poor fellow, if you had seen his eyes brimful of tears when he told me how he had come home and found her lying on her little white bed — ' and here Herwald broke off and sighed heavily. ' I may go to-morrow and see her ? ' ' Oh yes, you must if you want to see her again ; Arthur is going to take her away to North Wales, for a change for a week or two.' ' That is very nice, then the money will come in capitally.' ' What money ? ' he said, and looked at me rather oddly, I thought, but I did not explain, for the tea equipage was just brought in, and the clock at that moment striking twelve, Herwald insisted on my retiring. 'All this worry,' he said, holding my hands, and looking anxiously at me ; ' all this worry is undoing the week's good, as if you have not trouble enough at home without my friends' affairs bothering you out here.' I tried, laughingly, to get my hand away, but he held me fast ' You have done two deeds of mercy for me to-day, and I have not thanked you for them ; Heaven bless you, Nell !' When I got into my little room, I shaded my lamp and threw open the window. The park was lying in a flood of moonlight ; the trees met dark and still against the dark blue of the sky ; peace, tranquillity, and sacred stillness reigned around ; and as I stood I whispered, half aloud, ' Be the day weary, be the day long, Presently ringeth to evensong.' The following day, at the same hour, we rode over to Rose Cottage, and, as before, Herwald and Dudley went on to Holly- bush Farm, promising to call for me in an hour's time. I entered the silent house ; no tripping step, no mirthful laugh greeted me ; the little parlour was vacant, and so was the doll's house kitchen ; and so I passed out on to the tiny lawn. Milly was sitting on the grass under the mulberry-tree, picking lavender ; she sprang up when she saw me, and ran towards me with a low cry. ' How kind of you to come and wish me good-bye ; how very, very kind, Nellie !' She looked as if she had not slept much, and the brightness of her eyes was dimmed with weeping ; but it was not this alteration in her appearance which struck me so painfully, as she stood holding my hands and speaking in that sad subdued voice ; and when she drew me to the low green bench, where we had sat that evening, and placed herself at my side, and played mechanically with my whip and gloves, I looked down on her and marvelled at the change. All thatwas childlike had faded away — all that was womanly, and gentle — and long-suffering had taken its place. NELLIES MEMORIES. 145 And so you are going away, Milly ?' 1 Yes, to-morrow ; Arthur thinks it better, and I am willing to do as he wishes : we are going for a month.' 'And what then, Milly?' She drooped her head a moment, as she answered — ' And then home, and quiet days, and long evenings when Arthur's work is done. I dare say it will be lonely at first, but I shall soon get used to it ;' and the brave little face lifted itself up in the sunlight ' Dear Milly, will you come to me, to Sunnyside ? If you will, we will love you dearly, and take care of you, and in our happy home you will soon regain your old spirits.' She smiled faintly as she shook her head. ' Dear, kind Nellie ; but it cannot be yet.' ' Why not ?' I urged, ' will not Arthur spare you ?' ' Oh yes, too gladly, I am sure, but I cannot bear that after his long hard day's work he should come home and find empty rooms, no one to speak to him and make him comfortable ; and even if that could be arranged, I feel that I could not be happy at Sunny- side, not just yet, but in a little while I may.' ' Well, then, come to me at Christmas. Herwald will be with us, and Katie, and Lucy Graham ; come then, and help us to forget our vacant places.' She clasped me gratefully. ' I should like it, but we have promised to go to Liverpool, to Arthur's god-mother, and as she is very rich, she may do something for him, and so we dare not despise such an opportunity, but may I write to you when I can come ? perhaps I might in the Easter holi- days, you know, when Arthur goes again to Oxford.' 'Anytime, dear, it matters little to me, only the sooner the better ; but now I have only half an hour to spare, and I have much to talk about.' I told her what had passed between me and Mr. Clive ; and when I had finished, she drew the letter half out of her bosom, and showed it me. ' I shall keep it till I die, and then it shall be buried with me ;' and she carefully replaced it. ' Nellie, do you know he is going away ?' ' No, indeed, but I am glad of it ; where ?' ' To Italy, I think, and Fergusson is to take the duty for six months ; Arthur is going to give up our seats at church. Ah, you cannot think how angry he was yesterday.' ' Herwald told me.' ' He will not be angry any more, it makes me too unhappy ; how can any one be hurt with Hubert ?' and she folded her hands lovingly over the place where the letter lay, and smiled a little smile to herself. ' Will you write to me, Milly ? ' L 1 4 6 NELLIES MEMORIES. ' To be sure I will, and you will send me long answers, all about yourself and Sunnyside.' ' I will try what I can do, but I am not a good correspondent, I leave most of that to Louie, she is the clever woman of the family.' Just then a long shadow fell on the grass ; it was Arthur's, and at the same moment I heard the hoofs of the returning horses. Arthur's blue eyes sparkled through his spectacles, as he warmly grasped my hand. ' Miss Mortimer, I owe you a debt of gratitude for the kindness you have shown my little girl,' and he clasped her fondly as he spoke. ' She tells me she has already learnt to look upon you as her best friend.' Milly smiled up at me. ' Nellie knows what I think of her ; oh, there they come, and you must go,' and she clung to me with long lingering kisses. My eyes were dewy enough as I followed Arthur, and when I had wished him good-bye, she came out and stood in the porch, and waved to me with fluttering hands till I was out of sight. CHAPTER XV, 'Little things on little wings, Bear little souls to heaven.' — Anon. It was the last day of our stay at Hurst-hall. I had formed a resolution the preceding night to rise early and revisit all my favourite haunts, and as soon as the sun shone brightly and warmly in at my window, and the birds began their waking twittering, I rose, and after a hasty toilette, crept noiselessly down the eastern corridor, so as not to disturb the sleepers. But I was not to escape unperceived, the sound of my unhallowed footsteps aroused the wary hounds ; first Leo came and peeped at me suspiciously through the curtain, and then Max, and after satisfying themselves that I was no unmannerly intruder, followed me with many demon- strations of joy. Early as I was, they were flooding the tesselated pavement of the great hall below ; and one sleepy-eyed domestic, stifling a yawn, opened the garden door, through which I and my self-imposed guardians passed into the pure morning air beyond. The dew lay heavy on grass and bush, and a delicious freshness and coolness pervaded the air, sweet with the fragrance of opening flowers. As I entered the park, the sense of absolute stillness was marvellous ; nothing crossed our path but a startled hare, or a fawn answering to its mother's call, and nothing stirred the slum- NELLIES MEMORIES. 14? brous silence save the lark's voice carolling in the morning blue, or the bleat of some distant sheep. One after another I bade farewell to each pleasantly-associated spot : the wild garden, the trout stream, the fernery where we had worked, the arbour in the bowling-green where I had sat and mused — bade them farewell with the fondness one attaches to spots where many happy hours have been passed, regarding them with 'The feeling of sadness and longing, Which is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles rain.' It was certainly rather hard to brace myself up to the home- work after the delicious 'far niente ' and ease of the last two months ; to go back to the old niche, and become one of the plod- ders again in the work-a-day world ; but if hard for me, doubly so to Dudley, to whom was the burden and heat of the day. Return- ing to the house, some two hours later, I came upon Herwald in the chintz parlour, playing with Sprite on the hearth-rug. He listened with a faint smile as I recounted, well-pleased, my morning ramble. ' So you are sorry to leave Hurst-hall, Nellie ; well, I can only say you are not half so much as I am to lose you. I wish our lazy lie-a-bed had joined your stroll, if he could have gathered such roses as those.' ' Dudley not down yet ? ' Herwald gave me one of his comical looks. ' We prolonged our last library talk to too late an hour, and the boy has the grace to be sleepy this morning ; oh, there he is,' as Dudley entered with eyes only half-awake. ' Yet a little more sleep and a little more slumber,' cried Herwald, putting Sprite in his pocket, in which position she usually took her breakfast. ' Halloa ! what is all this rubbish, Nellie?' Rubbish, indeed ! I put them carefully aside, the relics of my morning rambles ; only a leaf from the fernery, a smooth white pebble from the stream, a forget-me-not from the bank where Milly and I had sat, a pheasant's feather picked up on a mossy knoll ; but they were precious to me, and to be treasured as such. A softened gravity stole over our young host's face, as he watched me put them up. ' I can hardly believe you are going to leave me to-day, really going away.' 'Oh, that is not the worst,' replied Dudley ; 'the thing is, I am going home a spoiled man. Nellie, this fortnight has ruined me for the factory.' ' You are jesting surely ?' ' On my honour no ; I always disliked the treadmill, and now I shall hate it ten times more.' 'Are you really in earnest, Dudley?' 148 NELLIES MEMORIES. ' Why, what oig eyes, little Wolf ! don't eat me up. Look here, Quixote, this girl has grown up with the notion that I love the factory, love the grinding, oily, musty old place ; just because I have never grumbled or complained, or talked grandly, like " the Bruce."' 'And you disliked it all this time ?' ' Dislike is a strong word, ma petite; one must not speak ill of the bridge that carries you over the water ; but 1 own I have never liked it ; and if truth be told, never shall. Why, as to Bruce, for all his lordly palaver, it's shallow humbug, every bit of it ; the fellow adores the place, likes, nay really enjoys its bustle, and scurry, and din, ay, and the downright hard work too, and there is not a better man of business breathing, though I say it,— but for me ' ' Well Dudley ? ' 'Well, I would fain be working on my own broad acres, sowing and reaping harvests, and eating the fruit thereof ; be a farmer, country gentleman, what you will so that it bring plenty of healthy out-of-door exercise ; mind, I don't aspire to Hurst-hall, something humbler would content me, even Abbey Farm ; anything to work on the green earth and under the open sky.' I had never heard him speak so strongly before, and I was very sorry. 'The fault is your own,' said Herwald, carelessly, 'you have refused the remedy.' ' Quixote,' and Dudley waxed red as fire. Herwald folded his hands demurely. ' Pax, Pax.' ' Not if you breathe another word. Come now, let a fellow enjoy a grumble quietly for once.' ' Alas, alas ! it is for me to grumble, not you rich busy creatures going home to pleasant faces and loving greetings ; look at me !' We did so, he was no bad object to regard, sitting there with the morning sun streaming full on his fair boyish face, as he thoughtfully tilted his spoon on his cup. 'Just as you are crossing the threshold of Sunnyside — dear, bright, happy Sunnyside — I shall be sitting down to my solitary dinner, staring blankly at silver e'pergnes and curious orchids instead of human faces ; by Jove, I don't think I can stand it to- night ; Morrison's bland attentions will drive me wild ; I'll go over to the Willoughbys', and get up a lark with the boys.' Dudley leaned his elbows on the table and looked long and earnestly at his friend. ' My dear fellow, why not come home with us ? you are your own master, and have no one to dictate your movements. Bid Simpson pack your portmanteau, there's ample time, and I'll telegraph to Louie to prepare your room.' Herwald smiled dubiously and shook his head. ' Don't tempt me, Dudley, for I don't know how to refuse, but I NELLIES MEMORIES. 140 cannot come ; I must not ; our tenants have been sadly neglecteu and I have work enough to last me to Christmas ; only the work man is worthy of his reward, and I could not enjoy my promised holiday if I had not buckled on my harness and made a little fight before the waning year draws quite to a close. I have been but a sad idler hitherto — an idler, and a dreamer of dreams, but I have determined to make an end of all that' As he threw up his young head with the quick impatient movement peculiar to him, he reminded me of a picture I had seen in my childhood of Christian arming himself in the Palace Beautiful. ' Promise me one thing, Nellie,' he said, laying his hand with his old familiar way on my arm, ' make me one solemn promise.' ' Nay, I will not pledge myself to anything blindly ; name your behest, Sir Knight.' ' Promise me that nothing that may happen — and who can tell what these months can bring forth? — nothing shall prevent my coming to you at Christmas ; remember I am your adopted brother, and am to be treated as such, and the new year must find me at Sunnyside.' I promised gladly. 'And, Nellie, may I bring Allan? I can't do without him, and he is a great admirer of yours.' 1 hesitated confusedly. ' Don't think me unkind, dear Herwald, but Sunnyside is so different to Hurst-hall, and I don't know where to put him.' ' Not know where to put him ! why, you had two or three unoc- cupied rooms on the third floor ; what's become of the yellow garret, or Dusty Den as we called it ?' ' Oh, I don't mean his sleeping quarters, we have ample accom- modation for that ; but what am I to do with his meals ? he can't dine in the kitchen, nor yet with us in the dining-room, and hardly with Lucy in the nursery.' ' Oh, I see,' and Herwald set himself to consider gravely. ' Why, what's become of the Oak parlour, where we learnt our lessons, made our feast-suppers, and talked round the fire ?' I clapped my hands. ' What a capital idea ! I never thought of ft. He shall have the Oak parlour.' ' And comfortable quarters too ; and, Nellie, one more thing — I may bring my dogs ?' ' Dogs ! how many ?' ' Only Leo, Max, and Sprite ; may I ?' How could I refuse him, looking up in my face with that coax- ing smile ? so I cheerfully acquiesced, and asked what more I could do for his pleasure. ' You must let me have my own rocm. Don't shake your head, Nellie. I won't sleep in any other.' ' PleasCj Dudley, make him hear reason ; I want him to have 150 NELLIES MEMORIES. Bruce's ; it is larger, more comfortable, better furnished, and every- thing.' ' Oh, as to that, Mrs. Housekeeper, we can manage either way ; you know we have agreed to have a little renovating process at Sunnyside, new drawing-room carpet, &c, and of course we will do away with all that spare room rubbish.' ' If you are going to put yourself to any expense I won't come ; and as to turning Bruce out of his room, I should have the night- mare every night I spent in it. No, I'll have my own dear old room looking over the orchard, with its faded moreen hangings, and all — do you know, I have every article of furniture in it by heart ! ' ' I can hardly believe that.' 'Can't you, old fellow? here, I will give you a summary, gratis, for nothing. First, it had green panelled walls, very worn, I won't say dirty, and the corners and edges partially peeled, and pared by mischievous boys' hands, yearning for its crisp brittleness ; next, it had a window-seat of some dull grained colour, and two corner cupboards painted mahogany, and piled up with dusty books and parchment The bed and window curtains were moreen, of a yellow green with knotted fringe ; and there was a heavy cumbrous sofa at the foot of the bed, covered with the same, which creaked when any one sat on it, and had a folding flap, and three deep drawers, always full of string and paper.' ' Oh, Herwald, how can you remember such trifles?' 'Trifles ! can't I see at this minute the unsightly patch at the right-hand side made by Dudley's muddy boots, when he lay on it and talked to me after our twelve miles' walk to Farnham Hollow ; and let me see, what comes next ? oh, there was a spindle-legged table, and a high-backed chair covered with seedy velvet, and a great black wardrobe, almost touching the ceiling. Just over the mantel-shelf, George the Third simpered in his coronation robes ; I remember that, because Bruce and I used to shy blotting paper pellets at him, and try which should hit him on the nose ; and a heartrending picture of Nelson's death over the wash-stand with a pleasing vis-a-vis in Gainsborough's " Blue Boy." I think that's all, if I mention the two tall china pots of rose pourri, and the shell- patterned quilt, and the beautiful linen sheets, smelling so sweetly of lavender.' ' I think he deserves his room after this, Nell.' Our discussion was ended by Allan abruptly entering. ' I find, sir,' he said, addressing Dudley, ' that the trains for this month are altered, and I have been obliged to order the carriage an hour earlier.' 'An hour earlier ! then, my good child, you have only time to tie on your bonnet and Rill's.' ' All right,' answered Herwald, ' don't flurry her ; go quietly up-stairs, I'll attend to everything, Rill in the bargain.' In three-quarters of an hour from that time we were standing in NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 151 tlif shabby little station at Whalley, exchanging the last greetings and inevitable good-byes. ' Kiss Uncle Herry for the last time ; a good one — that's right ; and now God bless you, Nellie ; you hardly know what good you have done me, perhaps some day you will. Good-bye, old fellow ; no, I won't be thanked. Confound your soft speeches — no, I did not mean that ; God bless you all ;' and he wrung Dudley's hand and walked away to where Allan was standing with the patient dogs. The train moved slowly along the platform, the hounds panted and strained in the leash, Allan put up a military salute, and Herwald waved his straw hat, and in another minute we were steaming away for the south, and our happy visit already became a thing of the past. ' Dudley, Dudley,' lisped Rill, from her seat on my knee. Dudley, whose face was settling into gravity, turned towards his baby sister with a smile. ' Uncle Herry sends you this,' at the same time dropping from her fat fingers something that lay sparkling and blazing on the car- riage very like a ray of light. Dudley picked it up eagerly and placed it on his finger ; it was the magnificent diamond ring that Herwald always wore, and that we had once innocently admired. 1 There,' he said, stretching it out for me to see ; ' it hardly be- comes my hard-working brown hand, after his slender white one. What do you say, Nell ?' ' That yours is well-shaped, and gentlemanly, and that I like it ten times better than his, which is characterized in my mind by a certain languor, I will not say effeminacy ; I don't care for white- handed men. But surely, Dudley, you do not mean to accept any- thing so costly ? it is a princely gift.' ' It is, and worthy of a princely heart ; Nell ' — and a rare happy smile played round his mouth as he spoke — ' I dare not refuse this ; I would not so wrong his generous nature ; Heaven knows, I have refused enough already.' My eyes questioned him ; he hesitated a moment, then con- tinued — ' Well, I did not mean to betray him, but I suppose my sister- friend is to be trusted. My dear, you cannot imagine what Her- wald has been urging on me day by day ; truly, if I had chosen, " the good of all the land of Egypt" might have been mine ; I had but to admire to have it instantly offered me. One day it was a picture from the gallery, any I might choose, with the exception of the Guido and his mother's portrait ; then a brace of silver-mounted pistols worth their weight in gold, a hunter valued at two hundred guineas, and lastly — ' here Dudley coloured up, so that I was afraid he was not going to tell me ; ' lastly, Nellie, he earnestly besought me to accept a large sum of money ; I won't tell you the amount, but enough to settle me handsomely in any profession or business I might choose, and sell out my share of the factory to Bruce — which 152 NELLIES MEMORIES. he will have is injuring my health. We had our first quarrel about it. I flatly refused to take a penny at his hands, and he stormed up and down the library, carrying his head like a young king, and confounding my independence, pride, and want of friendship. It was a long time before I could calm him down at all, he was so excited. Don't you call that worthy of a Quixote ? ' ' Give him a better name than that, Dudley !' ' Well, when I had made him understand that I would be beholden to no man, not even to my own brother, for what my two hands could bring me, he shifted his ground, changed his tactics, and then and there, in perfect good faith, propounded the strangest proposition that could ever come from a young man of three-and- twenty. He told me with sad, serious eyes, that he should never marry, and prayed me if I loved him to let him have one of our boys to adopt and educate and make his heir, and he fixed on Charlie.' I cried out in sudden pain, ' Oh, my dear, don't think of it.' ' We could not spare one of our children, could we, Nell ? least of all our pretty loving Charlie ; it was not to be considered for a moment. So I just walked up to him, chafing on his own rug like a young lion, and put my hands on his shoulders, and said, " Quixote, you are the most generous fellow breathing, but I were worse than a fool or knave if I were to accept this at your hand. Ten years hence, when you have lived a little longer in the world, and learnt more of its wisdom, you may enter again on this subject if you choose, but till then I will not entertain such a preposterous notion for a moment. And, mark my words, Herwald, for all your morbid visionary ideas, I predict that long before the time I name, your own s',n and rightful heir shall bear witness to the justice of my moti\ es, and shall strengthen your hands and heart in the hall of your fathers." ' ' What did he say to that, Dudley?' ' He answered with an idle jest, and mocked again at his Lancashire witches ; but, for all that, he knew and I knew that I was right So you see, Nell, that I can hardly refuse this graceful gift he has sent by our little Rill's hand ; ' and his eyes dwelt so long and tenderly on the brilliants on his finger that they were quite dim when he raised them. The afternoon was waning into evening when we sighted our little town of D ; and in a few minutes we had run into its dingy station. It was arranged that no one was to meet us there to renew the memory of the last terrible waiting, and swiftly as we could, we passed out into the open air, and hailed the first empty fly whose driver touched his hat to us. As we passed along the old familiar streets, something impelled me to draw back and cling to Dudley with a trembling hand, till the mournful impulse passed, and I could raise my eyes from Rill's golden curls, and answer Dudley's bright sweet smile as he whispered — NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 153 ' Courage, Nell, we are nearing home.' The aspect of the country had changed since we left ; the corn- fields, then proudly waving with ripening ears ready to harvest, and gay with poppies and blue cornflowers, were now nothing but stubbly fields, with the fallen leaves lying damply heaped up in the ditches ; with here and there an ungleaned stalk rotting in the mould. The churchyard trees were bare, save for the firs and cypresses that guarded the still white tombs, and the horse's hoofs trod crisply on the yellow and crimson leaves that strewed the path and road ; now and then one fluttered redly in at the window and pelted our faces softly, as we leaned out to catch the first glimpse of home. As we turned the corner by the parsonage and came in sight of the grass lane, there was a waving of straw hats, and a joyous pealing of boyish huzzas from the stile ; and then the carriage stops ; some one wrestles furiously with the fastening, till the door is jerked open, and Halcot plunges in head foremost, to treat me to his roughest and most loving hug, and Charlie follows with his shy girl's kisses. ' What, is the grand new rule in vogue ?' says Dudley, laughing, as Halcot half-bashfully extends his hand ; ' I think I must trans- gress for once ;' and his lips touch the boy's brow lightly. Then three pairs of hands help me over the stile ; and while Charlie and Seymour linger behind with Dudley, Halcot, with his arm tight round my waist, impels me furiously along the sunny lane, talking so fast all the while, that his words trip one over the other, and I have not the slightest notion of what he is saying. I am trying vaguely to find a clue to what he is telling me about running, and scores, and long-stop, and somebody bowled out, when he turns — and at the same moment somebody takes hold of me and brushes my cheek with a soft moustache, and I look up half laughing into Bruce's handsome face, while he holds me out at arm's-length more fully to survey me. ' Welcome home, old Nell ; how we have missed you, to be sure ! why, what a sunburnt little gipsy, and looking quite pretty too,' and he smiles down at me with kind pleasant eyes, that remind me somehow of Charlie's. I have never in my life seen Bruce half so demonstrative, but I release myself at last, for I see Loo's dear beautiful face in the doorway, and in another moment she has clasped me in her arms. When at last I sit down in my low chair by the garden window, I can hardly believe it is only two months' absence ; only two months, yet how changed the dear old drawing-room looks to me ; how narrow, how low, how shabby even, with its faded chintz and heavy panelling, and then, as if ashamed of the uncon- scious thought, I praise the bouquet that Louie has so tastefully arranged in my own particular vase and kiss the bright face that bends over me. Five minutes later and I would not exchange it for Hurst-hall and all its grandeur ; for Loo is kneeling by me holding 154 NELLIES MEMORIES. my gloves and chattering saucily, and Seymour has my cloak, Ilalcot is pulling at my bonnet strings, while Charlie, red in the face and breathing hard, is tugging ruthlessly at my boots, under a mis- taken impression that they are goloshes. I can scarcely see them all now for the tears that dim my eyes, and make but poor answers to Bruce's gay bantering remarks, seeing which Loo proposes my adjourning up-stairs to my own room and making a quiet toilette, which is not to be done apparently, for they all swarm up after me, and peep out of odd doors and passages, while I turn the handle rather listlessly, if truth be told, for I have a lingering remembrance of my rosebud room. ' Loo, Loo, what does this mean ?' What does it mean indeed ! this pretty new room with its deli- cately stencilled green paper, and moss carpet, fresh dimity hangings, and new chintz coverings. I look up at the ceiling, but its snowy surface gives me no clue, or the pretty dressing-table with its vase of light chrysanthemums, or the mantel-piece cleared ol its antique rubbish, with a beautiful bust of Purita in the centre ; and then I look at Loo, but she shakes her ruddy head uncon- cernedly and contemplates herself in the glass with an air of great serenity. * ' Loo, Loo,' I cry, flying to her and squeezing the fair fresh face between my hands, ' this is your doing ; let me thank you, though it is but poorly enough, my dear, for this pretty, glad surprise. How you all spoil me, and you, my precious sister, as much as any.' She patted me affectionately on the shoulder. ' There, there, I am pleased you like it, but it is Bruce's doing as well as mine, he is equally indebted to your thanks ;' and following her eyes I became aware of a shadow on the threshold, and a face peeping slyly round the corner, and in a moment had my arms round his neck. ' I say, don't strangle me, my good child, don't ; what are you up to ? oh my collar ! ' Then as I released him, ' If she has not taken all the starch out, and it is my favourite one too ;' but for all that, the corners of his mouth were going delightedly, f Now, what's all this excitement about?' ' Oh, Bruce, you dear good fellow !' 'Well, I'm sure I don't object, but why these affectionate terms? oh, keep off, do,' and he waved his hands helplessly. 4 He pretends ignorance, Nellie, but he has done as much as I.' ' Fie, what a story-teller you are, Loo ; you know you bought the carpet and the chintz.' ' Yes, but all the rest is yours, h d helped me choose everything, and used to sit and read ^ . hile nurse and I worked ; you can't imagine what a kind the htful boy he has been.' Bruce seemed to think these additional praises so fraught with danger to his personal appearance, that he retreated backwards, NELLIES MEMORLES. 155 sparring all the while, till he fenced himself in with the towel horse, where he felt his collar and remained passive. ' We have long thought that it was a shame your having the shabbiest room in the house ; why, Dudley's and Bruce's are much better ; and as to mine, I always thought I ought to make it over to you, especially since aunt's legacy enabled me to furnish it so handsomely. So,' continued Loo, 'we could not bear your coming back to such a poky little place after visiting at such a grand house as Hurst-hall must be ; so Bruce was generous, and we just set to work with a will and got it all done last night. I've not been able to attend to those nursery arrangements, Nellie.' x ' Never mind, there is plenty of time, Mrs. Graham does not come till Thursday.' 'Who is this Mrs. Graham, Nellie, that you are always writing about?' asked Bruce; but Louie would not let him enter on that subject, and by dint of much coaxing, got him out of the room, while I rested and refreshed myself, so that I was better fitted to meet the merry party down-stairs ; for it was a merry party as far as the boys were concerned, whatever the others felt. It seemed to be tacitly agreed among ourselves that each should bear his and her burden as cheerfully as might be ; and though Louie saw me shiver slightly as I passed the closed-up room, she only drew me on quicker, and no one noticed Dudley's brief gravity when he took the place that had not yet become familiar to him. I was not allowed to sit at the tea-tray, but had the guest-chair between Dudley and Bruce, with the three happy boys' faces opposite, and Loo's smiling eyes peeping round the urn. Scarcely had we seated ourselves, and the decorous grace been chanted by Charlie in a sing-song voice, with a loud Amen from Rill, followed by a clamorous demand for jam, than Halcot burst violently into the subject he had commenced in the lane. ' My dear boy,' I cried, interrupting the incessant ' I says ' and 'he says,' 'I can't understand what you are talking about Who was bowled out, and when ?' ' Why, Damon, to be sure,' replied Bruce mischievously ; ' don't you know his Pythias is head of the school, Double-first, Dux, Monitor, whatever you call it.' Seymour's face lighted up with an ingenuous blush. ' Yes indeed ; Louie told me the grand news, but I forgot for the moment to congratulate you ; I am very glad, Seymour dear, very, very glad, though you have left our poor Halcot so far behind.' ' No, indeed,' excla' Joy eagerly ; ' he's top of his class, and has got a histor 'History, indeec cried Halcot; 'a precious lot to compare with your Greek ana .Latin prizes, to be sure ; not that I grudge you them, Seymour ; of course you got them, every one knows you are heaps cleverer than \* 156 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 'I'm a year older,' said Seymour, who looked quite uncomfort- able at his friend's humble avowal of inferiority. ' I'm sure you would work twice as well if you were only more ambitious.' 'Never mind, Seymour,' laughed Bruce; 'you've bowled him out in prizes, and he's scored you up at innings. Nellie again looks mystified ; I refer to the grand cricket match between Dr. Merton's boys and the Grammar-School ; Halcot made the greatest number of runs, and Seymour only five — so you see our Hal beats him hollow at cricket ' ' And at every other game too. I'm no match for him there,' and it was evident from Seymour's bright looks that this sense of inferiority was very palatable to him. At this point of the argument, Halcot suddenly became violently red and exchanged meaning glances with his friend. ' Now's your time,' whispered Seymour, and Halcot, clearing his throat and gulping down something, broke out with ' I say, Dudley, I have been thinking a good deal about it, and I've made up my mind that I want to go to sea.' 'Want what?' asked Dudley, aghast, rousing himself from a reverie. ' I want to be a sailor,' said Halcot, decidedly. ' I'm sure it is the life I'm suited for, and I hope, Dudley, that you will please to let me.' Louie uttered an incredulous exclamation, and Bruce elevated his eyebrows ironically, while both the boys grew hot as fire. ' Come here to me, my boy.' Halcot obeyed readily, and Dudley put his two hands kindly on his shoulders, and thoughtfully scrutinized the bonnie sunburnt face before him, the old tired look coming back as he did so. 'This is a grave proposition, Hal, and so suddenly started as almost to take my breath away. Come, now, tell me as quietly and clearly as you can, what are your reasons for supposing yourself fitted for a sailor's life ? — quietly, mind, so that I can understand you.' Thus adjured, Halcot commenced, but the flurry of his mind communicated itself to his words, which tripped up each other in long unfinished sentences, so breathlessly delivered, that Bruce put his hands up to his ears, and Dudley signed a piteous protest for silence. ' My dear boy, I can't make out a word of what you're saying ; we shall never get to understand each other at this rate. Steady, Hal ; tell me honestly, whom have you been consorting with, or what books of wonderful adventures have you been reading lately, so as to make you enamoured of the hardships and dangers of a seafaring life ?' Poor Halcot blushed. ' It is not the books so much, Dudley, but I feel I'm just cut out for a sailor.' ' Nevertheless,' returned his brother, smiling, ' I will trouble you NELLIES MEMORIES. 157 for theii titles. Come, Hal, you are always frank with me ; tell me what you have been reading since I went away, in the holiday time, you know.' Halcot reluctantly complied, naming as he did so several of Captain Marriott's, Cooper's, and Mayne Reid's, and as the memories of his favourite authors rose before him, he cried enthu- siastically, ' Oh, Dudley, I can't bear the idea of being shut up in a little place like this all my life ; I should like to see the foreign lands and wonderful sights these men talk about ; fancy being among the icebergs, or seeing the Aurora Borealis, or the Southern Cross, and all the great creatures that live in the sea, and the water-spout, and the ' ' I see — I see, Halcot ; love of adventure the first potent reason ; now for the second.' ' Don't you think that a good one, then, Dudley ?' ' A thoroughly boyish one, peculiar to most lads of your age ; now for the next motive.' Halcot however commenced fumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat, and appeared confused. ' Up with your head, man, and speak out ; don't be afraid,' said Bruce, encouragingly. ' He's not afraid,' replied Dudley, putting his arm round him and drawing him closer ; ' tell us what is in your heart, my boy.' Halcot flushed up to the roots of his hair, and stammered out with difficulty — ' It will be so awfully dull when Seymour goes to college and leaves me here ; I cou'dn't bear being left — I'm sure I should hate myself and everything else too.' Bruce burst out laughing. ' Oh, Damon, Damon, we've got to the bottom of the argument at last.' Even Dudley could hardly preserve his gravity as he motioned him to silence. ' Are these all your reasons, Hal ?' ' No,' said the boy, plucking up heart as he felt himself losing ground, ' I've got a better one still. You see I must have some business or profession, and I would not be a clergyman for the world ; besides, I'm not clever enough, I should be plucked at the little-go, and I know you could never afford the expense of college ; and as for the factory, Bruce says there must not be a third brother in the concern.' ' How do you know that, young Jackanapes ? ' inquired Bruce, colouring with surprise. ' Why, I heard you say so to Dick Thornton one day when he asked you what you were going to make of me, and you called me a muscular beggar ; you know you did, Bruce.' ' I was not aware you were listening, little Pitcher. What a deal of trouble these boys are, to be sure.' i§3 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 'Leave him to me, Bruce ;— as for the factory, my lad, I suppose there are other places of business in D besides that Why one of these days Dick Thornton may be wanting a junior, eh, Halcot?' His round face lengthened perceptibly. 'That is worse than anything. I could not sit on a high stool in a dark counting-house all day ; it would drive me crazy in time, I know. I should cut it all and run away.' ' I trust not, for the honour of the Mortimers ; and now a truce to all jesting. I've heard all your reasons, Halcot, and I want you to answer me one question ; — do you think you would have proposed this if my father and mother were alive?' Halcot hung his head in silence, and Dudley cleared his voice .hat was becoming rather husky, and went on — 'To tell you honestly, Hal, I don't think you would. I am sure you could never have had the heart to distress them by proposing the first break in the home circle ; and I am equally sure that nothing would have induced them to let you go.' Halcot drooped his head still more painfully. Dudley put his hand under his chin, and turned the brown eyes full on his. ' I don't want to depress you, my boy. I have heard what you have had to say on the subject — you must hear my views now. I think you are old enough to know and to understand the heavy responsi- bility that rests on my shoulders, which, though you may not think it, is felt by me to be a great and awful charge ; it is as though I were personally responsible for each one of you ; how then can I answer for those who are not immediately under my wing ? What do you think would be my feelings, Halcot, when I should see you prepare to set the ocean between us and you ; exposed in your boyhood to the world's temptations, to jeering shipmates, and to dangerous work ; and every wild and gusty night, when the wind howls round Sunnyside, to lie on wakeful bed and think of our absent boy ? What, Halcot, have we not vacant chairs enough, and would you add another ? ' ' I never thought of that, faltered the boy.' 'Look at Keith,' continued Dudley ; 'whom duty calls from home and country. Think how many an hour of longing and fruitless regret he will have to endure, before he learns to battle out his fate in the strange loneliness of that far-off land ; and would you, of your own free will, sever these home ties, and go away from us ? ' The boy's lip quivered, but he did not answer. ' You look on the happy adventurous side of a sailor's life, but now would you like the midnight watches, with the thoughts of Sunnyside so far away, and the dreary pangs of home-sickness — how in those long silent hours would you think of us, and wish to be among us again ? ' Still no answer, the bright face still so sad and cast down. NELLIE S MEMORIES. t$& ' I speak to you like this, because I would have you pause, and reflect on both sides of the question, before you make up your mind, for if you are set on it, you must go ; I mean to have no grumblers in my camp, and shall impose no irksome chains of government. Once make up your mind that this is your true vocation and rightful sphere, and I will let you go, however I may regret the decision ; and then, as now, you must abide your choice.' He paused, quite exhausted by his inward emotion, and shading his face with his hand, seemed pondering deeply. Poor Halcot, left to himself, shuffled his feet, fumbled his buttons, and appeared generally uncomfortable ; his brother's speech had appealed strongly to his affectionate heart ; and we who knew him did not doubt the issue of his mental conflict. It came at length : — ' Well, I have made up my mind, I won't go, Dudley ; I see it won't do to break up the party at home — but what on earth am I to do with myself?' he finished disconsolately. Dudley smiled with an air of relief. ' We will not vex ourselves about that just yet, Hal, you are only fourteen, and another year's schooling will do no harm ; and after that we will hold a grand family council, and see what manner of man you are likely to turn out. Who knows ? we may think a season at Antwerp desirable to improve that Anglo-French accent.' Halcot's eyes sparkled. ' I don't care where, Dudley, but I do so want to see the world.' 'Well, well, it is a natural desire, and bred of a lively nature ; but now I think our long discussion is ended, and happily too, thanks to your yielding the point ; there — God bless you, boy/ and for the second time that day Dudley transgressed, and kissed his young brother's brow. Poor Hal looked rather sheepish as he came back to his old place, but Seymour, whose eyes had been filled with tears half the time, imparted consolation in whispers. Soon after, Dudley challenged Bruce to an evening stroll, and the rest of us sat in the dark drawing-room looking out on the moonlighted lawn. Charley climbed up into my lap, and Halcot nestled close beside me with his head on my shoulder. He was very quiet at first, and talked in monosyllables, but we soon drew him out, and by the time the young men returned from their walk, his merry peals of laughter were ringing out at his own expense. i6o NELLIES MEMORIES. CHAPTER XVI. 'O weary hearts ! O slumbering eyes ! \ But some heart, though unknown, O drooping souls, whose destinies j Responds unto his own. Are fraught with fear and pain, \ t> a -r ■»!. • V. .1»11 L l™.d m ;,l Responds-as if with unseen wings, An angel touch d its quivering strings, Ye shall be loved again ! No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, And whispers in its song, "Where hast thou stayed so long?'" Longfellow In a very short time I had fitted into my old niche again, as though I had never moved from it. At first it felt strange to be sitting sewing quietly in that silent house, hearing nothing but the rustling of the leaves in the court, and the soughing of the wind in the cedar tree ; to look out upon unswept garden paths with their heaps of dead rotting leaves, or drearier still on the stubbly fields in front, but by-and-bye I got used to it, and looked back on Hurst-hall and its splendours as the ' baseless fabric of a dream.' At Bruce's request our old musical evenings were resumed, and Louie, once more in her element, presided at the grand piano, while Dudley suffered his cornet to see the light, and his brother brought out his beloved violin. On those occasions, Halcot had been accustomed to perform prodigies with a fife and triangle, while I, constituting the auditory, withdrew to the farthest corner of the room, so as not to be deafened, and thought it the finest orchestra in the world. These concerts gave the boys great satisfaction ; now and then, it is true, Bruce's violin got the spasms, and howled and wailed as if demoniacally possessed, or Dudley's breath whistled through his cornet in unmelodious shrieks, that left him red in the face, while Halcot had a knack of chiming in at the soft pathetic parts, which drew down anathemas on his devoted head ; but in spite of these little accidents, some of the finest operas were executed with triumphant success, and sometimes Seymour would coax his father across to listen to a favourite piece. Working quietly by my shaded lamp, I would think sometimes pityingly of Herwald in his lonely hall ; or musing abstractedly, would ponder of the past, the present, and the future. And here a word or two to those who peruse these simple records of a quiet home life. It may be that some may think — I do not say they do, but the idea has struck me — that I have shadowed forth myself too faintly and in colourless tints, while I have suffered others to stand more boldly out upon the canvas. Let no one think I would not have it so, it is what I have intended from the first. If I have sketched myself more dimly than the others ; if I have withdrawn a foot or two into the shade ; if I have suffered brief sentences to touch on feelings where others would have written whole pages ; it is because NELLIE'S MEMORIES. 161 I wish this to be no egotistical autobiography, but rather the remembrances of home characters and tender home scenes. And there ie another point where my reticence may be mistaken —let no one think I did not love Keith. From the hour when he wooed me a second time, comparing himself to Jacob and me to Rachel, in that the years he waited for her were nothing to the love he bore her ; and looking on me with that brave sweet smile went cheerfully away to his exile ; so in that moment, to quote a Scriptural expression ' my heart clave to him,' and the love so long dormant, and so timidly confessed, grew day by day stronger and stronger. I loved him, there was no mistaking that ; deep in the recesses of my heart I held that secret hid ; no one knew the intensity of my feelings, no one was witness of those long musing fits in my little room at night, or saw how often my pillow was wet with my tears. If any one guessed at these things, it was Dudley ; I only knew this by his giving me all Keith's letters and never asking for them again. He never wrote to me, and rarely sent me messages, but I felt that every line was meant to reach my eyes, and hoarded them with the jealousy of a miser. With the new-born love awoke a restless thirst and craving, a feverish desire for work, for com- panionship, for excitement , and in those days, Lucy Graham was my great resource. It was late in the week when she arrived, and between three and four in the afternoon, when the house was silent, and cleared of its boyish occupants, which was a great relief, as I wished the sick child to be carried quietly up-stairs, and laid in the nursery cot, without the intervention of curious eyes and tongues. Louie, painting in the window-seat, was the first to give note of their advent, and the stopping of the carriage-wheels at the stile, and we both ran out into the hall to set open the door, and welcome the weary wayfarers. It was a gusty October day ; the wind swirled the dead leaves to our feet, and swept them in eddying masses about the court ; and only a flickering sun-light played upon the stubbly land in front, and in the west were a few pallid clouds gradually warming to sunset ; but for the crimson berries in the hedges and the ivy on the stable-walls, it would have been a very desolate scene indeed. 'What a lovely face,' cried Loo, as Lucy appeared in sight, looking wistfully about her, and asking questions of the man who carried Hennie ; then as she quickened her steps at seeing us, and came up the court, a sudden impulse made me stoop down and kiss her cheek. 'Welcome to Sunnyside, Lucy !' Blue eyes swimming in tears answered me, and then the forlorn stranger, taking heart of grace, responded gratefully to Louie's warm greeting. Hennie opened his arms when he saw me, and called me in his shrill whisper to come near ; the little face felt hot M 102 NELLIE'S MEMORIES. and feverish, and I signed to the bearer to carry him quickly up- stairs. Hennie, however, interposed. ' I want to speak to that handsome lady first.' The handsome lady bent smilingly over him, and pressed the little hand to her lips ; no shadow of repulsion or shocked feeling passed over her face as she did so, inured as she was to the sight of want and ; misery. It was one thing to establish Hennie comfortably in his day cot by the nursery window, it was quite another thing to get him to take refreshment quietly arid co'nseht^tb go to sleep. For the first half-hour he refused to do anything but look about him and ask questions. ' Where are the boys ?' was the first ; ' I want to see the boys.' ' They are at school, my child !' I answered, looking painfully at the large dilated eyes ; ' but by the time you have had a little nap, they will be home and ready to see you.' ' I can't sleep,' he answered, rather peevishly, pausing with a spoonful of jelly to his lips. ' Don't talk so silly, Niss NehV ' Miss Nell' was the name he always gave me. ' Lucy ! where are you, Lucy ? ' She had been laying aside her cloak and bonnet, and came for- ward now, looking wonderfully pretty in her grey merino dress and neat falling collar. ' What is it, my darling?' ' What's that place ?' said Hennie, trying to raise himself still higher in bed, ' all green, with a lot of trees ?' ' That is the orchard, Hennie, full of apple and pear and cherry trees.' ' I like it !' exclaimed the child ; ' look, Lucy, there is a cow, a real live cow walking about in it. What a funny garden, though, Miss Nell.' ' It looks very dreary now, Hennie, but it is beautiful in summer- time ' ' But it is like a field, all grass, and nothing but a great black tree in it, and a lot of bushes going all round it — haven't you any flowers ? ' ' Very few now ; but you can't see the flower-garden from this window because of the shrubberies ; it is such a pretty, quiet little place, shut in by a green gate, and leading to the kitchen garden ; it has an arbour, and a fountain, and a rose-tree walk, and beds full of lilies and carnations ; you shall go and sit there when the warm weather comes again.' ' But, Miss Nell ' ' Now, Hennie, I am not going to answer any more questions just now, so lie still like a good boy, while I talk to Lucy.' My decided tone seemed to have some influence, for he offered no opposition only continued his questions in a low tone to himself. ' Well, Luc y I said, drawing her smilingly into a distant window- NELLIE S MEMORIES. 163 seat, and placing myself at her side, ' how do you like Sunnyside ? do you think you can be happy here ?' She lifted up her face with a mute wistful expression. ' Well, dear, I do not mean exactly happy, that would be ex- pecting too much in your unsettled state ; but peaceful, Lucy, and tranquil in your new home.' She laid her clasped hands on my lap, such delicate little hands, and looked up at me with the troubled earnestness of a child. ' Miss Mortimer, do you believe in presentiments ?' 'Presentiments !' I replied, astonished, and somewhat awed. ' Yes, presentiments ; something stirring vaguely in the heart, and whispering of hope and untold blessings, — blessings even for me and my boy. Do you believe in these, Miss Mortimer?' ' Yes, surely, Lucy. Have you really felt such a presentiment as you describe?' ' 1 have — I have. Oh, Miss Mortimer, I have !— standing on your threshold, I felt the unseen lifting of my burden ; felt hope stirring into life again, and knew my husband was not dead. No, he is not dead — something that never lies has told it to my heart ; I will despair no more. One day I shall have glad tidings from a distant land that bids me go to him, or he will come to seek his poor widowed girl ; whichever it be, I know — I am sure — I shall see his lost face again ;' — and Lucy bowed her face upon her hands and wept. I drew the gentle head down till it rested on my shoulder. ' If I weep, Miss Mortimer, it is with joy. I cannot tell you how I felt an hour ago, when you greeted the sorrowful stranger like a sister, and made her sharer in your happy home. It was as if after a long disastrous voyage we had drifted into some fair haven, never to battle again with the rough hard world ; never to be hungry, or weary, or friendless, or to see my darling wasting and pining with neglect, but to rest for ever and be hopeful and thankful in this dear place.' Here Ilennie, peeping over the side of his cot with hot wistful eyes, broke off our conversation, and as I rose to speak to him, we heard feet scudding along the passage, and a whispered pause at the nursery door. ' The boys ! the boys!' cried Hennie, sitting bolt upright and clapping his wasted hands ; 'the boys ; oh, let them in, Miss Nell, please.' His excitement was so great, it would have been cruel to deny him, so I set open the door, and with a whispeied caution, let them in. All three advanced, treading on tiptoe, and holding their breath. I had prepared them as well as I could for the stunted, afflicted little creature they were to see ; but an instant's glance at the dis- turbed and agitated group showed me the uselessness of my efforts. Struggle as they might, their self-possession was quite overthrown 1 64 NELLIES MEMORIES. by the sight of the weird, ghastly little face, propped up on its bony hands, and peering at them with bright specks of eyes . Poor boys, how I pitied them I Seymour, generally so calm and quiet, was shifting his place uneasily, and looking everywhere and anywhere except at the strange object before him. Halcot having picked out a likely place in the ceiling, gazed at it in serene abstraction, while Charlie, with an ominous puckering of the mouth, took refuge behind my skirts. Poor Hennie looked from one to another more puzzled than pleased. ' Well, my child,' I said, coming cheerfully to the rescue, and giving Seymour a furtive little push, 'these two are the young brothers I talked to you about, Halcot and Charlie, and this is their schoolfellow, Seymour Egerton ; come, you must all be good friends together.' 'Hum !' says Hennie. Here Seymour, recalled to a sense of duty by my premonitory nudge, gathered up his courage, and, with manifest effort, said — ' How do you do ? Are you better ? ' ' Pretty well,' replied Hennie, coldly, but politely. ' What's that boy looking at?' Halcot, bringing down his eye from the ceiling, and becoming as red as a young turkey-cock, was heard to mutter ' flies,' — a fiction invented for the occasion. ' Flies,' exclaimed Hennie, throwing himself back upon his pillow with his weak gasping laugh. ' Oh, those silly flies, how I always laugh at them.' 'Why?' asked Halcot, still looking over Hennie's head more in dismay than ever. ' They are so funny,' remarked Hennie, speaking so shrilly that his words came out in little squeaks, ' they look so very funny, walking on the ceiling with their heads down ; they don't like it, you know ; it makes them giddy, and then they fall backwards in your tea, and stick up their legs in the air,' — and here Hennie, again overcome, renewed his unpleasing laugh. None of the boys saw the joke in the least, but it seemed to refresh Hennie, for he sat up, chuckling still, and demanding to shake hands. ' I have a little hand,' remarked the sick child, ' and I like to feel big strong ones like yours. Won't that pretty boy with the curly hair come and speak to me too ? ' I led Charlie, still reluctant, and looking as if he were going to cry. " He is very pretty,' said Hennie. ' He is like the little Samuel in Lucy's book ; — oh, what nice soft hair,' — and here he broke off with a little sob that brought Lucy from the other end of the room. ' What ails my pet ? what is it, dear ? ' * Why haven't I got pretty curling hair like that,' cried tho child, NELLIES MEMORIES. 165 'and warm strong hands? I should like to be like that little boy, Lucy, to have great laughing eyes, and rosy fat cheeks like his.' ' My boy, my baby, my precious one, don't talk like that ; it breaks Lucy's heart, and you would not make her more sorry and sad than she is now, dear ; do I not think you pretty, my own ' ' Yes, you do ; but look at those boys with their firm straight legs, and look at mine.' And here, to my great dismay, and the boys' horror, Hennie threw back the bed-clothes and displayed his shrunken, crippled limbs. Poor Lucy burst into tears. 'Come Hennie, don't be so naughty — cover them up.' 1 Ain't they funny legs ? — they all go the wrong way, and won't walk a bit ; they might be sticks for the good they are. What are you crying for, Miss Nell V I was not crying, but the tears stood in my eyes. ' There, I have made you all sorry ; how these boys stare, to be sure ; — come and kiss me, Lucy ; we can't help my legs, can we ? and we shall have the white wings some day ; and perhaps Peter and John may come down this way presently.' ' Do you mean the Apostles ?' demanded Seymour, speaking up boldly as befitted the future clergyman. ' The which, sir ? ' asked Hennie. 'The Apostles— the St Peter and St John in the Bible?' ' I mean the men who walked about with no stockings, and long frocks, and a great rainbow round their heads, and told the man at the Gate Beautiful, which was all gold, every bit of it, to get up and walk, and in a minutw he walked and ran about. Well, they are angels now,' finished Hennie, ' and I thought they might perhaps come and tell me to do the same, and one day I should get up " leaping, and walking, and praising God." ' To see the little creature fold his hands upon his face as he said this ; to see him turn and clasp his mother's neck, and tell her not to cry ; to see the quaint bright expression coming back with the utterance of the childish faith ; — to see all this would be to draw the tears from anybody's eyes, however hard and stern they might be. The boys forgot their repulsion, and drew near him in un- feigned sympathy, and before many minutes had passed Hennie was asking Dr. Merton's young monitor whether he liked dolls, and Halcot was in fits of laughter. ' Or if not dolls,' remarked Hennie sweetly, 'soldiers ; I have a box of grenadiers, and we will play at them together.' Seymour good-humouredly complying, the box was brought, and at the same moment came a low tap at the nursery door. ' It is only I,' said Bruce, putting in his head. 'Oh, come in, sir,' cried Hennie, 'we are only going to plav soldiers.' Oh, that's the little chap, is it?' said Brace, putting his hands 166 NELLIES MEMORIES. in his pocket and trying not to whistle ; ' how do you do, little what's-your-name ? ' ' Hennie, sir; how do you do?' extending a limp hand care- lessly, ' I'm playing — don't interrupt.' 'Are you !' returned Bruce, staring ; then in a low voice, 'well, of all the precocious little beggars.' ' Hush dear, hush ; this is Mrs. Graham, Hennie's mother.' Bruce did not whistle now, but only drew a long breath indi- cative of great surprise, and stared again with all his eyes at the pretty face before him, looking first at her and then at Hennie, in unmitigated astonishment. I tried to say a word and make him speak, but he only looked the harder at the unconscious Lucy, and twirled his moustache ; and I was just beginning to feel uncomfort- able, only hoping that Lucy did not notice it, when the chiming of the church clock called me to the tea-table, and I summoned Bruce to attend me. ' Oh, what do you say ? tea-time, all right. I'll come ; good-bye for the present, Hennie, and — ahem — Mrs. Graham.' I hurried off to the dining-room ; Bruce followed me. 'You sly old Nell, where did you pick up that confoundedly pretty little widow ? by Jove, what hair, and what complexion.' ' She is not a widow, Bruce ; and how could you be so rude and unkind as to stare at the poor thing so ? I was quite ashamed of you, and afraid lest she should notice it.' Bruce laughed that saucy laugh of his. ' You unreasonable woman. What ! bring a pretty face into the house, and expect me not to look at it ; what do you take me for ? Don't you know your brother's weakness better by this time ? stare at her, indeed ! where's her husband if she is not a widow, Nell ?' ' I told you before ; I gave you her whole history. It is unkind to go on like this, when you know it teases me ; it is not right, Bruce.' He turned off my reproachful speech, in his lazy good-humoured way. ' Not a widow ! well, she's next to one ; that poor wretch will never turn up again. And what a comical little chap that boy of hers is, a miniature death on a mopstick ; jolly little fellow, though, I expect ; but what a contrast to her. Why, I have not seen such a face for years.' ' Oh, Bruce, Bruce, what is her face to you ? Remember her position and yours ; don't make me repent of bringing her here, for you will if you go on like this.' But Bruce did not abate one inch of his provoking behaviour. ' That's your own look out ; if you bring a pretty girl into the house — for she is a pretty girl, widow or no widow, though I should prefer the former — you must abide by the results, for I shall look at her often enough, you may depend on it.' Here, foolishly enough I began to cry, but I fclt so vexcJ and NELLIES MEMORIES 167 disappointed, and not a little frightened in the bargain. Now Bruce had the usual masculine abhorrence of woman's tears, and his soft heart was always more or less touched by the sight of them. ' Crying, Nellie ! well, you are a muff, not to take a bit of chaff better than that ; what an opinion you must have of me. You did not believe I was serious all this time. Nellie, I say, Nellie-' shaking me, ' look up, can't you, and don't be so silly.' 'Are you sure you were only joking, Bruce dear?' 'Am I sure? Listen to me, child,' holding me gently by the shoulders ; ' you should let a mischievous fellow like me have his fling, and not immediately think there is mischief brewing.' ' And you were not in earnest, Bruce, truly ? ' ' Yes I was, I was very much in earnest when I praised Mrs. Graham's pretty face ; and quite in earnest when I took a good long look at her ; but I think you should have known me better than to suppose I must directly go and fall in love with her. Why, even if she were a widow, which I dare say she is, there is no fear, thank Heaven, of a mesalliance with Bruce Mortimer. Why, the prettiest farmer's daughter in England would not tempt me ; the story of King Cophetua and the beggar is very well in poetry, but the Mortimers know themselves ; there has never been one that has done a foolish or mean thing, and 1 shall not be the first.' Now the blood of the Mortimers was Bruce's especial hobby. When twitted with his numerous flirtations, his first retort was always to pick a flaw in the family pedigree of the lady, and say magnanimously and sadly, ' She is a nice little thing enough, but you see the affair can't go on, she is not my equal ; why, her father was such and such.' But as, from of old, the greatest talkers have not proved to be the greatest doers, somehow or other I was always dreading some irreparable piece of mischief on the part of Bruce ; and felt that in my position now, of mother as well as sister, I could not guard my handsome brother enough, hence my fear at his un- lucky expression of admiration. ' Oh, dear Bruce, of course I never thought of such things ' (which was a little fib), ' I only meant it was hardly respectful to poor Lucy to look at and speak of her so. I am delighted you admire her ; why, Dudley can't say enough in her praise ; but we cannot be too careful, dear, now we are our own guardians, and hers too, poor child ; and you won't mind your cross sister being a little particular now and then, especially when she has the trouble of looking after such a good-looking boy.' Bruce laughed and kissed me. ' You are a dear little soul, though a crotchety one. Come, give us some tea, old girl.' My heart felt lighter after this talk, nor did I repent its having taken place ; for without this explanation I should have been uneasy. Bruce could not be kept out of the nursery, and Hennie and he b