f^ y.<p?*,
 
 LI E. R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 V. \

 
 >> M
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE?
 
 By the same Author. 
 
 A^ B E L: 
 
 From ''TEE QUJEJEN," February 2nd, 1884: 
 
 "The preface to Mr, Cliff e's poem is so clear and 
 intelligent and in such excellent prose that we are pre- 
 possessed in his favour. The writing of a tragedy is 
 a serious undertaking, and one to which nobody should 
 commit himself without careful study and preparation. 
 The author of ' Abel ' seems to be aware of this, and 
 has deliberately formed and carried out his plan. He 
 believes that dramas founded on Biblical events ought 
 to have a large admixture of lyric poetry and other 
 features which he enumerates. The poem, conse- 
 quently, abounds in lyrical passages and elements. 
 It opens with a monologue by Michael, which is 
 followed by another by Satan. Two choruses, one of 
 Angels and one of Demons, occupy a decidedly con- 
 spicuous position ; the remaining chief speakers being 
 Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel and their wives. Much 
 of the dialogue is animated, and Mr. Cliffe's facility 
 of versification is everywhere manifest. The com- 
 position as a whole is graceful, sometimes vigorous, 
 but with occasionally feeble lines. The language 
 employed is consistent, and no charge of irreverence 
 can be brought against the author. He writes as a 
 man of culture, and under the influence of classical 
 models. We find the poem very interesting, and 
 regard it as worthy of praise for many admirable 
 qualities, originality being one of them." 
 
 Remington & Co., Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.
 
 CAN IT BE TEUE P 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCIS HENRY CLIFFE 
 
 Alcun non puo saper da chi sia amato 
 Quando felice in su la ruota siede ; 
 Pero c'ha i veri e i finti amici a lato, 
 Che mostran tutti una medesma fede. 
 
 Ariosto. 
 
 TWO VOLUMES 
 
 VOL I 
 
 LONDON 
 
 REMINGTON AND CO PUBLISHERS 
 
 HENRIETTA STREET COVENT GARDEN 
 
 - 1887 
 [Alt Rights Reserved]
 
 f>3 
 
 7 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Rev. Frederick Berner, having a large 
 
 I family and a small income, and expecting an 
 
 ^ addition to the former and none to the latter, 
 
 '^ was becoming uneasy as to the future before 
 
 him. He spoke on the subject to his wife, 
 
 and she agreed with him that something 
 
 must be done to improve the state of their 
 
 finances. At last a happy thought struck 
 
 » her. 
 
 ^ '' My dear Frederick," she said, '' I know 
 ^^^a very simple way of obtaining money. We 
 have several spare rooms in our house, which 
 ;^^is larger than we require, now that our 
 children are at school. Why not advertise 
 <^for pupils ? " 
 
 B
 
 2 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 " Pupils, my dear?" he asked, dubiously. 
 ** I do not think that would answer, as I have 
 never taught anybody anything in my life." 
 
 '' Never mind," retorted the lady, nothing 
 daunted. '' When you have sufficient pupils 
 you can engage masters. There are plenty 
 of clever men to be had, and on very 
 reasonable terms ; I assure you there are." 
 
 Her husband did not seem convinced that 
 cleverness was so rife, but he promised to 
 think about it. 
 
 " Not at all," she said ; *' you will decide 
 at once. I know you too well to let you put 
 it off. Postpone it for one day and you may 
 postpone it for ever." 
 
 He felt the truth of this remark ; but as he 
 was loth to exert himself, he made one further 
 attempt to obtain a reprieve. 
 
 " But have you sufficiently considered, 
 Charlotte, the inconvenience to which we 
 shall be put ? How will you be able to 
 endure the racket of boisterous children ? " 
 
 '' There is no necessity for taking children," 
 she answered. '' Young men would pay 
 better, and are far less of a responsibility."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 3 
 
 '' I am afraid I could never manage young 
 men," he said, despondingly. 
 
 *' Because you have never tried. My dear 
 Frederick, how often have I told you that in 
 this life we must be energetic ? If you will not 
 rouse yourself now, I do not know how we 
 shall pay our bills next October." 
 
 *' But we shall have to make outlays to 
 receive the young men, and I am not sure 
 there will be any profits." 
 
 '' Of course," his wife said, '' you must 
 make the terms as high as you possibly can." 
 
 '' How much do you think I ought to 
 ask ? " 
 
 '' Two hundred and fifty guineas per 
 annum," said Mrs. Berner, positively. 
 
 Her husband gave a low whistle. 
 
 *' I should consider myself lucky with half.'* 
 
 *' Nonsense ! " she exclaimed. " You must 
 not make yourself too cheap. The higher 
 the terms are, the^higher you will stand in the 
 estimation of parents." 
 
 One of the foremost articles in the reverend 
 gentleman's creed was his intense belief in 
 his wife's superior knowledge of the world.
 
 4 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 *' Well, supposing," he said, '' I am obliged 
 to ask so much, we must bear in mind that 
 there are other men far more qualified for 
 such a task than I am, and that it is ten to 
 one I may not succeed." 
 
 *^ Nothing venture, nothing have," she 
 replied. 
 
 ^* Very true, my dear ; but advertising is 
 so expensive." 
 
 '' I will pay it out of my own pocket," said 
 the enterprising lady. '' We must make a 
 move." 
 
 *' But if we had the young men they would 
 entail great outlay. At such a high rate we 
 could, of course, only expect sons of rich 
 people, accustomed to every luxury, and who 
 would require comforts in which we never 
 indulge." 
 
 '' Always but, but, but! " said Mrs. Berner, 
 becoming impatient. '' I say get the pupils 
 in the house, and leave the details to me. 
 Three or four young men, at two hundred and 
 fifty guineas a year each, would soon set us 
 up splendidly. The house does not require 
 much preparation. The eldest pupil shall be
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 5 
 
 put in the blue-room, and I am sure that is as 
 nice as anybody could wish ; and as to the 
 other rooms, I could soon make them most 
 comfortable. The furniture-dealer will give 
 us credit for a few months, especially when 
 he hears what our prospects are." 
 
 The sanguine Mrs. Berner was beginning 
 to feel as if she were coming into a fortune. 
 Her less buoyant husband looked round the 
 drawing-room, in which they were sitting, 
 with its faded carpet and old-fashioned furni- 
 ture, and its dreary outlook on a dingy red 
 brick wall, and he could not suppress a sigh. 
 
 ''One thing," she continued, ''we must 
 improve, and that is our cooking. It must 
 be better in quality and ampler in quantity 
 than hitherto. Then I shall be ready to 
 receive anybody who appears." 
 
 " You seem so convinced that your plan 
 will answer," he said, after a pause, " that I 
 think I had better withdraw my objections 
 and boldly make the attempt." 
 
 " That's my dear Frederick," she exclaimed 
 in raptures. " I will without delay draw up 
 the advertisement."
 
 6 CAN IT BE TRUE'i 
 
 She sat down at her desk, and in three 
 minutes read the following words : — 
 
 To Parents and Guardians. — A Clergyman residing 
 near Richmond in a commodious house, has vacancies for 
 three or more sons of gentlemen desirous of completing 
 their education. Classics, mathematics, etc. Terms, 
 two hundred and fifty guineas per annum. Home com- 
 forts. Highest references. — Address, Clericus, 5, Dull- 
 road Buildings, Richmond. 
 
 *' That will do admirably," he exclaimed ; 
 *' I do not think we could say anything 
 more." 
 
 In due time this advertisement appeared in 
 the leading papers. For several days Mrs. 
 Berner was on tiptoe of expectation, and 
 whenever the postman went his rounds, and 
 whenever a visitor's rap was heard at her 
 door, she could scarcely contain herself for 
 suspense. But she waited and waited, and 
 no answer came. 
 
 When a week had elapsed she was obliged 
 to awaken her husband to the necessity of 
 repeating the advertisement. He at first 
 demurred at the expense, and again gave 
 vent to his conviction that it would be useless, 
 but, as usual, he yielded in the end.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 7 
 
 The advertisement reappeared in the papers, 
 and two days afterwards a lady called. She 
 said she was the mother of three most unruly 
 boys, who could not be induced to learn any- 
 thing, which fact almost drove her to despair. 
 She seemed pleased with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Berner, and made no objection to the terms. 
 On leaving she promised to let them know 
 her decision in a day or two, and Mrs. Berner 
 felt sure of being ere long in receipt of seven 
 hundred and fifty guineas a year. But when 
 the answer came it was to the effect that she 
 did not consider the house airy or cheerful 
 enough, and regretted that she did not think 
 it suitable for her sons. 
 
 This reply was a terrible blow to Mrs. 
 Berner, and as to her husband, it made him 
 sink into deeper despondency than ever. 
 
 As the second set of advertisements had 
 no other result, they were obliged to go to 
 the expense of a third. This was an advance 
 on the former, inasmuch as they received 
 five letters in reply. But they all came to 
 nothing. 
 
 One parent wanted to know if they would
 
 8 CAN IT BE TRUE7 
 
 take two boys of sixteen and seventeen at 
 one hundred guineas each. Mr. Berner 
 would have jumped at the offer, but his 
 wife was firm. 
 
 '' No," she said, '' it must be worth our 
 while, or we must not do it at all." 
 
 Another parent, after corresponding with 
 Mr. Berner for three weeks, suddenly broke 
 off the correspondence by not answering his 
 letters. 
 
 Negotiations were progressing favourably 
 with a third party, when unfortunately he 
 determined on having a personal interview, 
 and on coming to the house he was, like the 
 first lady who applied, unfavourably impressed 
 with the dulness of the abode. 
 
 The fourth answer was from a gentleman 
 who begged Mr. Berner to appoint a day for 
 meeting. He did so. 
 
 The gentleman appeared, and a most 
 pleasing man he was. He asked Mr. Berner 
 how many pupils he had, and on receiving the 
 answer, ^' None as yet, but I hope to have 
 several shortly," he declared he could not 
 possibly send his son to a place where he
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 9 
 
 would have no companions. In vain Mr. 
 and Mrs. Berner assured him that his son 
 would not be for long the only pupil. The 
 father declared the effects of solitude, even 
 for a few days, would be bad, and with this 
 assertion he left the house, at the same time 
 telling Mr. Berner he might write to him 
 when he had more inmates. 
 
 This was cold comfort, and the fifth answer 
 was as fruitless as the others. A guardian of 
 two young men, aged eighteen and twenty, 
 asked Mr. Berner to call on him on a certain 
 day, but when the day came round, and Mr. 
 Berner was almost ready to start, a telegram 
 arrived to the effect — 
 
 '' Do not come. We are going abroad." 
 
 Such was the disheartening result of their 
 expensive advertisements. 
 
 Nevertheless, Mrs. Berner persevered. They 
 could ill afford the outlay involved by adver- 
 tising, but she knew it was their only hope, and 
 she continued to battle with their difficulties. 
 
 At last, when they had spent over ten 
 pounds in advertising, Mr. Berner received 
 one morning the following letter : —
 
 10 can it be true 1 
 
 '' Dear Sir,— 
 
 '^ In reply to your advertisement irr 
 this morning's Times, I beg to state that I 
 should be happy to find a home, such as 
 you offer, for my son. He has considerable 
 talents, his disposition is not bad ; but I 
 regret to say he has formed acquaintances 
 of which I do not approve. I wish him 
 to be completely separated from them ; and 
 as I am so little at home that supervision 
 is impossible, I think it advisable to place 
 him in the hands of those who can look after 
 him. He is twenty-one years of age ; but I 
 have given him to understand that if he is 
 not submissive and well-conducted he will 
 incur my most serious displeasure ; and I 
 should wish this fact to be impressed upon 
 his mind. I have been too indulgent to him 
 up to now, but I find it necessary, for his own 
 good, to turn over a new leaf. Should your 
 references be satisfactory, I hope we may 
 come to an arrangement. 
 
 '' Yours faithfully, 
 
 '' Philip Beverley." 
 
 ''The writer of that letter/' said Mrs,
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 11 
 
 Bemer, '' does not seem to me very likely 
 to have been over indulgent." 
 
 ''How do you form that opinion?" asked 
 her husband. 
 
 '^ From the whole tenour of the letter." 
 
 '' It will be a disagreeable task," said Mr. 
 Berner. '' What on earth am I to do with an 
 unruly, dissolute young man? " 
 
 " Try to influence him for good," she re- 
 pHed. 
 
 " Easier said than done," he retorted. 
 '^ However, I must go through it ; and if 
 it does not answer, why — " 
 
 He did not finish his sentence, but sat 
 down and wrote to Mr. Beverley, giving 
 his references, and assuring him that he 
 would do his best if his son were confided 
 to his care. 
 
 In a few days a note came from Mn 
 Beverley requesting Mr. Berner to call upon 
 him the next day at half-past three in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 As the appointed hour drew near, Mr. 
 Berner was driving to the residence of Mr. 
 Beverley, a handsome house, in a fashionable
 
 12 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 square. He was shown into the drawing- 
 room, a magnificent apartment, fitted out 
 with extravagant luxury. The soft carpets, 
 the rich hangings, the inlaid tables, the 
 costly paintings and lofty mirrors formed a 
 background that threw out with almost 
 theatrical effect the pale and careworn face 
 and the somewhat Hstless figure of Mr. 
 Berner. It seemed to strike Mr. Beverley 
 as he entered, for he fixed on his visitor a 
 glance of mingled surprise and inquiry, in 
 which, if there was no rudeness, there was 
 certainly no cordiality. 
 
 '^ My son, as you are already aware," he 
 began, when he had asked his visitor to 
 be seated, '' has caused me much trouble. 
 He is quick and clever, and, as you may 
 suppose, he has had every advantage. His 
 studies leave little to be desired ; but his 
 general conduct is far from satisfactory. 
 When his poor mother was alive she used 
 to look after him, and later on he had tutors 
 and went to the University, and I never 
 heard many complaints of him. But about 
 eighteen months ago I wished him to go into
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 15 
 
 society, and to fill the position in the world 
 to which he is born. When you see him, 
 I think you will be pleased with his appear- 
 ance. Indeed, he was only too successful in 
 the world ; everybody paid him attention, 
 everybody courted him, and in a few weeks 
 his head was completely turned. Parasites 
 and flatterers gathered round him, and he 
 made most undesirable acquaintances of both 
 sexes. You understand me. I need not 
 enlarge on this painful subject. As I stated 
 in my letter, it is impossible for me to exer- 
 cise over him the necessary supervision. I 
 therefore am on the look-out for a man of 
 experience and firmness, who will execute my 
 orders, and who will endeavour to counteract 
 the bad influence that has been at work." 
 
 During this speech Mr. Berner had time to 
 look fully at the father of his future charge. 
 Not having any great amount of penetration, 
 he merely saw a tall, good-looking, fashion- 
 able man of the world, but the minuter details 
 escaped him. Mr. Beverley was a man of 
 vast fortune, whose natural haughtiness had 
 been fostered and nourished by every event
 
 14. CAA IT BE TRUE? 
 
 and circumstance of his life. His unconquer- 
 able self-esteem prevented him from suspect- 
 ing that he himself was possibly in some 
 degree to blame for his son's vagaries. Money 
 was his remedy for everything. He had paid 
 lavishly for his son's education, and fancied 
 that he had, by so doing, completely dis- 
 charged his duty. He had given him plenty 
 of money on entering the world. And now 
 his plan, on seeing the bad path on which the 
 young man was proceeding, was to stop his 
 allowance, and to pay some mentor heavily 
 for making him virtuous again. 
 
 ^' I fully understand," said Mr. Berner ; 
 *' and I think, Mr. Beverley, you will not be 
 disappointed with the result of my care." 
 
 The effort required to produce this con- 
 fident speech was very great, for at heart 
 Mr. Berner had grave misgivings. 
 
 '' I thought at first," said Mr. Beverley, 
 '' of engaging someone to be resident here ; 
 but on reflection I determined on sending 
 him away from home for the present. I 
 should like him to see a little good society ; 
 but if any of his fast associates try to get
 
 CAN IT BE TRUEf 15 
 
 at him again, you will please to let me know 
 without delay." 
 
 Mr. Berner promised to do so ; and they 
 then began to settle the details of business, 
 details which would have no interest for the 
 reader. 
 
 As Mr. Berner was rising to depart, Mr. 
 Beverley said — 
 
 '^ I may as well introduce you to my son ; 
 I know he is at home." 
 
 He rang the bell, and told the footman to 
 ask Mr. Philip to come down. 
 
 The footman returned in a few minutes, 
 and said — 
 
 '' Mr. Philip is out, sir." 
 
 " Out ! " exclaimed Mr. Beverley. '' Why, 
 he told me he would be in all the afternoon." 
 
 ''Yes, sir; but Sir Alexander Marshfield 
 called, and they both went out together." 
 
 "There!" said Mr. Beverley, ''now you 
 see how things are. He can't be quiet for 
 ten minutes but some of these fellows come 
 to lure him away. That Marshfield is the 
 greatest scamp about town ! They will go 
 gambling, and drinking, and doing Heaven
 
 16 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 knows what besides, until two or three in the 
 morning. Can you wonder that I am driven 
 to desperation ? '^ 
 
 Mr. Berner sighed, not only at the father's 
 distress, but at the prospect in store for 
 himself. However, the reward was to be 
 ample ; and on the Monday following it was 
 settled that Philip Beverley should come to 
 his house. 
 
 When Mr. Berner arrived home he found 
 his wife in the most extreme tension of 
 suspense. On hearing the happy news that 
 they were at last to receive an inmate, and 
 with him some emolument, her relief and 
 delight were unbounded. 
 
 *' He shall have the blue-room," she said ; 
 ^' I will get it ready at once." 
 
 The blue-room was, in her eyes, more 
 august than a State apartment in Bucking- 
 ham Palace ; and to allow anybody to occupy 
 it was the highest sign of favour she could 
 confer. 
 
 There was no little respect of the world in 
 poor Mr. Berner's nature, and he dilated with 
 great complacency on the splendour of Mr.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 17 
 
 Beverley's house, the great wealth he seemed 
 to possess, and the aristocratic name of Sir 
 Alexander Marshfield. Returning home after 
 enjoying a glimpse of so much luxury, he 
 more than ever doubted whether Philip 
 Beverley would not ere long be weary of his 
 new abode, and sigh for his father's house 
 amid the gloom of Dullroad Buildings. 
 
 He did not give vent to these thoughts, as 
 his wife was so completely happy, so con- 
 vinced that nothing could excel the comfort of 
 the blue-room, so certain that she could satisfy 
 the new member of their little household. 
 
 The interview took place on Wednesday, 
 Philip was not to come before Monday ; she 
 had, therefore, plenty of time for her many 
 preparations. 
 
 She was supremely happy. For the first 
 time in many months she was able to look 
 forward without anxiety to the future ; and 
 the relief seemed to give her renewed youth. 
 The furniture in the drawing - room was 
 brightened and polished ; the carpets were 
 taken up and beaten ; the old bedstead was 
 removed from the blue-room, and a handsome 
 
 C
 
 18 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 new one, just arrived from the upholsterer, 
 put up in its stead. It was not her fault if a 
 single speck of dust was to be seen. 
 
 On Saturday afternoon everything was 
 ready. The house had been turned upside- 
 down for two days, and had at last recovered 
 its usual staid appearance, with a bloom of 
 freshness about it of which it had long been 
 in want. A new oilcloth had been laid down 
 in the hall, and the rods on the staircase had 
 been rubbed and rubbed until they dazzled 
 the eye with a more than golden brilliancy. 
 Flowers such as the season could offer — it 
 was late in September — adorned the vases in 
 the drawing-room, and some fine ferns stood 
 in the windows. 
 
 On Sunday Mrs. Berner rested on her 
 laurels, but her mind was more active than 
 ever. She was wondering what Philip Bever- 
 ley would be like ; whether he was tall or 
 short or middle-sized ; whether he was fair or 
 dark ; and she repeatedly remarked to her 
 husband that he ought to have extracted 
 these particulars from the father when dis- 
 appointed of seeing the son.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 19 
 
 " Do you not think you ought to meet him 
 at the station ? " she asked Mr. Berner on 
 Monday morning. 
 
 '' Well, it is not usual/' he replied. " I 
 think I had better not." 
 
 The fact is he wished to put off as long ay 
 he could the ordeal of meeting the formidable 
 youth. 
 
 Mrs. Berner could not understand this re- 
 luctance. If it had been seemly she would 
 have gone herself, so eager was she to get a 
 glimpse of Philip. 
 
 But Mr. Berner argued that as the distance 
 between Mr. Beverley's house and Richmond 
 was so trifling, it would not look well for him 
 to dance attendance upon a young man sup- 
 posed to be under his care. 
 
 She did not press the point, and tried her 
 best to occupy herself with other thoughts 
 than those of the coming visitor. 
 
 He was not to arrive until the afternoon, 
 and she was anxious to give him a good 
 dinner in the evening. It was remarkable to 
 see her buoyant activity and delight. A more 
 fortunate circumstance for her husband than
 
 20 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 that his wife should have been of such a 
 temperament, could not have occurred, for 
 with his moping, indolent nature, a person of 
 similar disposition would have dragged him 
 down to perpetual languor. 
 
 The time was approaching, and whenever 
 Mrs. Berner heard carriage-wheels she fancied 
 it was he. 
 
 '' Do you think he will be here soon ? " she 
 constantly asked her husband, to which he 
 invariably replied — 
 
 '^ In five or ten minutes." 
 
 She went up once more to the blue-room to 
 see that it was in order, and to assure herself 
 that no comfort was missing. Everything 
 was as nice as she could desire. The room, 
 though dark like the rest of the house, was 
 decidedly comfortable, and the bed, with its 
 snow-white pillows and sheets, was delightful. 
 
 She came down with her mind at rest and 
 her heart overjoyed, and had scarcely taken 
 her seat in the drawing-room when a carriage 
 drove up, a knock was heard, and Mr. Philip 
 Beverley entered the house.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 *' You went far too slowly, driver ; I told 
 you to gallop, and you absolutely crawled." 
 
 These were the first words that Mrs. 
 Berner heard uttered by Philip. They were 
 spoken in the passage. A moment afterwards 
 the door was thrown open, and he entered 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 She saw a young man, somewhat above 
 the average height, dressed in the newest 
 fashion, decidedly good-looking, fair hair, fair 
 moustache curled upwards, and light, bluish- 
 grey eyes, quick and restless in expression. 
 
 '' I thought," he said, after the customary 
 salutations, '' that we should never get here, 
 and when we were here I could scarcely
 
 22 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 believe it was the right place — such an 
 incredibly dreary looking house. Well, I 
 know the governor meant to send me to 
 Land's End, and he has done so with a 
 vengeance." 
 
 This was a courteous way of breaking the 
 ice, and it made Mr. Berner feel more than 
 ever his utter insignificance. He asked 
 Philip if he would like to go up to his room, 
 and the latter assenting, he showed him 
 the way. 
 
 Mr. Berner came down in a few minutes 
 looking rather crestfallen, and asked his wife 
 what she thought of him. 
 
 *' We have scarcely seen enough of him to 
 judge," was her guarded reply ; but at heart 
 she felt that her impression was not favour- 
 able. 
 
 " I am afraid I shall have a vast amount of 
 difficulty with him," said her husband. 
 
 In five or ten minutes they were startled 
 by a terrific ringing of bells. It proceeded 
 from Philip's room. The maid hurried up, 
 and ere long appeared with a most perplexed 
 face, and said —
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 23 
 
 '' Please, ma'am, the gentleman do want so 
 much, I don't know how to manage it all. He 
 wanted some more hot water, and I said it 
 wasn't boiling, and he said he must have it at 
 once, and he told me to send someone to buy 
 him a button-hole and to despatch a tele- 
 gram ; and I said, there was nobody to go, as 
 I was so busy that I couldn't leave the house, 
 and he got angry, and he said it must be 
 done, and I really don't know what to do." 
 
 ''Well," said Mr. Berner, ''I suppose I 
 must take the telegram." 
 
 At this moment another violent peal of the 
 bell was heard. 
 
 ''There it goes again," said the maid, hurry- 
 ing to answer it. 
 
 " This is terrible work," said Mr. Berner to 
 his wife. 
 
 " Never mind," she replied, " he will soon 
 settle down." 
 
 Ann, the maid, came back with the intel- 
 ligence that the gentleman wanted some 
 ink. 
 
 "Oh my!" she said, unable to suppress 
 her feelings at what she had seen, " he have
 
 24 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 such a splendid dressing-case open. Such 
 beautiful crystal bottles, with silver tops, as I 
 never saw before ; and brushes with silver 
 backs ; and such a magnificent gold watch 
 is lying on the table ! " 
 
 Mr. Berner had to cut short her raptures 
 in order to send up the ink. 
 
 Ere long they were disturbed by another 
 pull at the bell, and Ann soon reappeared, 
 saying — 
 
 '^ Mr. Beverley's compliments, sir, and he 
 would be much obliged if you would come up 
 and speak to him." 
 
 Mr. Berner hastened up immediately. He 
 rapped at the door, and on Philip's saying 
 *' Come in," he entered. 
 
 The young man was standing before the 
 looking-glass in his shirt sleeves, brushing his 
 hair with two brushes. The contents of three 
 large trunks were strewn about the room, 
 that splendid blue-room of which Mrs. Berner 
 was so proud. 
 
 PhiHp's powers of observation were keen, 
 and the first glance he took of Mr. Berner on 
 alighting from his cab led him to believe
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 25 
 
 that he was of a docile nature, and he now 
 determined to experiment upon him. 
 
 " Is that you, Mr. Berner ? " he asked, 
 without looking round. 
 
 "It is." 
 
 *' I should feel obliged to you if you would 
 help me to unpack and arrange my things. I 
 thought of asking the maid, but her hands 
 are dirty, and she seems awkward." 
 
 *' I was going to take your telegram for 
 you," said Mr. Berner, feeling that it was not 
 for the young man to order him about, and 
 yet not being able to screw up his courage 
 for a refusal. 
 
 '' Oh, you mustn't think of the telegram. I 
 have changed my mind. I will not send it." ' 
 
 "But your button-hole?" suggested Mr. 
 Berner; "there is nobody but myself to get 
 it." 
 
 "Very kind of you; but in a Httle pokey 
 place like this I needn't bother about it." 
 
 Mr. Berner immediately began busying 
 himself with the clothes to hide the colour 
 that was mounting to his face. 
 
 " That fellow is a muff," was Philip's
 
 26 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 mental ejaculation ; but he said aloud — '' I 
 am afraid I am giving you a world of trouble • 
 but it is only for the first day, you know. 
 Please hang that dress-coat in the wardrobe 
 by my evening-suit. I have left my best 
 clothes at home, but if I want them I can 
 easily send for them. You will excuse my 
 writing a letter? I should like it to go by 
 the next post." 
 
 He sat down at the table and began 
 writing, looking up now and then to tell Mr. 
 Berner where to put his things. 
 
 After a short silence, during which he 
 finished his letter, he said — 
 
 ^' I'm not accustomed to write at a round 
 table ; haven't you a Davenport you could put 
 in here?" 
 
 " There is one in the drawing-room," said 
 Mr. Berner; "you can write there whenever 
 you hke, or in my study." 
 
 '' That is not the same thing," Philip 
 retorted ; "I like writing my letters in 
 private. You must please to send me a 
 desk up to this room." 
 
 The reluctant promise to do so was wrung
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 27 
 
 out of Mr. Berner, and Philip then rose and 
 helped him to arrange the things. 
 
 He showed Mr. Berner a curious antique 
 watch, a silver cigar-case, and his rings, 
 scarf-pins, and studs, the jewels being of 
 great beauty and value. 
 
 He became more genial when he found Mr. 
 Berner so biddable, and was almost polite to 
 him when he left, with the letter in his hand, 
 promising to post it. 
 
 Mr. Berner looked at the address. It was 
 to Sir Alexander Marshfield. 
 
 '' This looks bad," he muttered, remember- 
 ing what Philip's father had said about the 
 Baronet. He read and re-read the address, 
 examined the large, untidy, dashing writing,, 
 and held the letter up to the light. But all 
 this scrutinizing of the envelope did not 
 acquaint him with its contents. However, 
 posted it must be, so he went and threw it 
 into the neighbouring pillar-post, though on 
 his return he expressed his doubts to his wife 
 as to whether he ought not to write to Mr. 
 Beverley to inquire whether he approved of 
 this correspondence or not.
 
 ^8 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 She was rather surprised at the coolness 
 with which, by his own account, he had been 
 treated by Philip ; and urged him to stand 
 his ground in future. 
 
 When the dinner-hour drew near Philip 
 came down, looking very satisfied with him- 
 self, though unadorned with a button-hole. 
 He sat down and talked to Mrs. Berner, and 
 she was beginning to think that he was far 
 pleasanter than she at first supposed, when 
 the illusion was quickly dispelled. 
 
 ^' I wanted to ask you, Mrs. Berner," he 
 said, ^' if you could not give me a nicer room. 
 It is all very well when the gas is lit, but in 
 the daytime it is rather dark, and I do not 
 like the bed facing the window." 
 
 This was audacity indeed ! Objecting to 
 the blue-room ! Despising the best bedroom 
 in the house, after all the pains she had 
 taken to make it comfortable ! 
 
 '^ I am afraid," she said, '' there is no room 
 in the house which would please you if that 
 does not. But I can have the position of the 
 bed altered." 
 
 He thanked her, and silence ensued. She
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 29 
 
 was very much nettled, and he saw that she 
 was so. If her husband had been in the 
 room, he would have continued complaining 
 and making disparaging remarks, but he was 
 rather more polite to ladles than to men, 
 which Is, however, not saying much. 
 
 Mr. Berner came In very soon, and almost 
 simultaneously with his appearance dinner was 
 announced. 
 
 During the progress of the repast their 
 patience was again put to severe proof, 
 Philip thought the dining-room dull and 
 dreary, and by the expression of his face 
 Mrs. Berner could see what his opinion of it 
 was. The soup he allowed to pass without 
 any unfavourable comment ; but when he 
 found It was followed Immediately by meat 
 Instead of fish, he said he was always accus- 
 tomed to fish as well as meat at home, and 
 expected It elsewhere. Mrs. Berner promised 
 he should have It in future, and harmony was 
 restored. But not for long. The wine was 
 by no means to his taste, though it was the 
 best the Berners had had on their table for 
 many years.
 
 30 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 " I cannot possibly give more expensive 
 wine than that/' said Mrs. Berner. '' I am 
 sure everybody would say it is very good." 
 
 '' So they would," he admitted ; " but it is 
 not what I am accustomed to." 
 
 After a somewhat unpleasant debate on 
 the subject, he expressed his determination 
 of supplying himself with his own wine. This 
 was not very agreeable to the Berners, but 
 they thought it better to raise no objection. 
 Consequently, he sent his orders next day to 
 his father's wine merchant to send him several 
 dozens of the oldest and choicest wines, and 
 these he drank with great enjoyment, never 
 offering a glass to anybody, except on one 
 occasion to Mrs. Berner when she was indis- 
 posed, and she then had the spirit to refuse 
 it. 
 
 But we must not forestall events. When 
 he and Mr. Berner were alone, the latter 
 asked him how his father was. 
 
 '' Oh, he is wonderfully well," said Philip; 
 ^' I daresay all the better for being rid of me. 
 He is glad enough to have a pretext to send 
 me into exile, because the way he goes on is
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 31 
 
 not over exemplary, and he Is delighted to 
 escape my observation." 
 
 Mr. Berner did not like to hear him talk in 
 this way of his father, so he found it neces- 
 sary to revert to another subject, and he 
 inquired about his favourite studies. 
 
 '' I do not know that there is any study of 
 which I am particularly fond. As a boy I 
 used to like the Latin poets, Catullus and 
 Juvenal especially ; but now I find life more 
 interesting than books." 
 
 Not finding much congeniality in Philip, 
 Mr. Berner was glad to rise as soon as possible 
 from table. 
 
 In the drawing-room Philip asked Mrs. 
 Berner to play for him. She did so, and he 
 complimented her on her performance, which 
 was, in truth, very good. 
 
 " I like music," he said. '' You can sit 
 and listen, and listen, and think of nothing 
 in particular, and so the time glides by." 
 
 He then played backgammon with Mr. 
 Berner, and by the time they had had three 
 games he said he had some letters to write, 
 and retired to his room.
 
 82 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 ** Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, '*what 
 I have come to ! I shall go wild if this dull 
 Hfe continues. What would Marshfield say 
 if he saw me in this den ? " 
 
 Such was the close of the first day, and 
 the second did not open more auspiciously. 
 
 When the house was stirring, Philip gave 
 his usual violent pull at the bell, and when 
 Ann appeared, ordered hot water and a cup 
 of coffee to be brought as soon as possible. 
 Instead of getting up he wrote letters in bed, 
 caring little whether he inked the sheets or 
 not. One of the epistles was to his father, 
 whom he assured that he was very pleased 
 with his present abode. 
 
 '' If he believes I Hke it," thought Philip, 
 *' he will take me away all the sooner; but if 
 he were to know the truth, he would oblige 
 me to stay for months and months." 
 
 His feelings towards his father were, as the 
 reader may suppose, not over dutiful. Mr. 
 Beverley had not been quite correct in telling 
 Mr. Berner that he had been too indulgent. 
 No, he had not been too indulgent to his son, 
 but he had given him too much money. He
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 33 
 
 had frequently been very harsh to him as a 
 boy, and then, to make amends for it, he 
 used most injudiciously to bestow handsome 
 sums upon him. The inevitable consequence 
 followed. Severe restraint, succeeded by the 
 hberty and means of enjoyment, gave Philip 
 such a zest for pleasure and luxury that every 
 day of his life made him more and more 
 selfish, frivolous, and extravagant. 
 
 The Berners did not see him at breakfast 
 that morning. He sent word that he had a 
 headache and could not come down. This 
 message was subsequently repeated almost 
 every day, so that it was the exception when 
 he did appear at the early meal. Mrs. Berner 
 by no means regretted this circumstance. 
 She had no liking for Philip, and it was with 
 great pains that she concealed this fact from 
 him. 
 
 " Philip Beverley," she said to her husband, 
 *' has neither heart nor principle, and I greatly 
 fear that he will not turn out well." 
 
 '^ Surely, Charlotte," he replied, '' you are 
 too severe upon him. I grant that he is self- 
 indulgent and inconsiderate to others, but
 
 34 CAN IT BE TRUEl 
 
 that may wear off in time ; and I know his 
 talents are good if he could only be forced 
 to use them." 
 
 Mrs. Berner was far from uncharitable in 
 her judgment on individuals, but her keen 
 feminine insight made her form this unfavour- 
 able opinion of Philip. She expressed it, but 
 would not dilate upon it. 
 
 Her husband was not endowed with any 
 preternatural perception of character, and he 
 could only see folly where she discovered 
 vice, thoughtlessness where she recognized 
 malignity. He was by no means averse to 
 Philip when the first shock of his imperious- 
 ness passed off, and was not without the 
 hope of exercising a beneficial influence over 
 him. They read together of a morning, they 
 sometimes took rambles of an afternoon, and 
 were, on the whole, much better friends than 
 seemed likely at first. Whether the elder 
 man exercised that good influence over the 
 younger man which he supposed, may be 
 doubted. Philip delighted in dazzling him 
 with stories of the great people with whom he 
 was acquainted, and Mr. Berner was weak
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 35 
 
 enough to let himself be so dazzled. One 
 of Philip's favourite boasts was the large 
 amount of money he had lost and won at 
 betting and card-playing, and to these rho- 
 domontades Mr. Berner was too fond of 
 listening. One day Philip had actually the 
 audacity to propose that if Mr. Berner felt 
 inclined to try his luck on the turf, he would 
 be happy to give him his advice, and this 
 offer, though not accepted, was refused 
 without any indignation. 
 
 Notwithstanding his amicable relations 
 with his mentor, Philip rebelled at heart at 
 the dull life he was compelled to lead, and 
 secretly determined to endure it no longer, let 
 it cost what It would. From his father he 
 was receiving no allowance for the present, 
 but he had unlimited credit with his trades- 
 people, who knew that he was the only son 
 of an opulent parent. To beguile the tedium 
 of his hours he would frequently order books, 
 clothes, curiosities, rings, all sorts of expen- 
 sive articles, only to pass a few minutes In 
 unpacking and looking at them. 
 
 It was a great relief to him to hear, about
 
 36 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 a week after his arrival, from Mr. Berner that 
 they were expecting a pupil next day. He 
 would have been glad of any sort of com- 
 panion to break the monotony of their daily 
 routine ; and when he heard that the young 
 fellow in question was neither good-looking nor 
 considered clever, and thus most likely to be 
 an effective foil to his own accomplishments, 
 he was ready to give him a cordial reception. 
 
 Mr. Berner owed this new acquisition to 
 the recommendation of a brother clergyman 
 who was acquainted with a rich old man of 
 no particular family who was looking out for 
 a tutor to improve his son's neglected educa- 
 tion. It was high time, for the boy was 
 sixteen and as ignorant as a child of four, 
 and as awkward as he was uninformed. 
 
 '' A pretty kettle of fish I shall have ! " ex- 
 claimed Mr. Berner on returning from his 
 interview with Mr. Ruddles, the father of this 
 promising youth. '' I never saw such a 
 deplorable object as the poor boy is. He 
 looks stupid, and heavy, and utterly neglected. 
 How on earth am I to improve him ? I shall 
 have to get a master to assist me."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 37 
 
 Mrs. Berner thought this a very necessary 
 step, and determined to look out for a suitable 
 man. 
 
 When James Ruddles arrived, his ap- 
 pearance did not contradict the fame that 
 had preceded him. He was so shy that he 
 could scarcely say '' How do you do ? " in 
 reply to Mrs. Berner's kind greeting, and the 
 striking figure of Philip Beverley made him 
 blush with amazement and alarm. If any- 
 body happened to look at him, he w^ould cast 
 down his eyes and seem to find his hands 
 terribly in his way, for he would rub them 
 against his trousers and his waistcoat or let 
 them drop straight down. If he was sitting, 
 he would hang his head and contemplate his 
 large feet ; if he was standing, he could not 
 summon courage to walk across the room, 
 but would stand in the most clumsy, con- 
 strained position until addressed. 
 
 Mrs. Berner pitied him very much, and 
 with maternal kindness tried to put him at 
 ease. But it was uphill work. At dinner, 
 especially, he was in a lamentable condition. 
 The terrible sensation that he was visible to
 
 88 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 everybody at table, and to Ann, who planted 
 herself behind his chair as a compliment to 
 the new arrival, utterly unnerved him. He 
 let his spoon fall while taking his soup, and 
 when it was picked up for him he had no 
 courage to proceed. When the fish appeared, 
 and he was helped, he took his knife and 
 fork and was beginning to eat, but observing 
 that the others were using only their forks he 
 turned scarlet, and, fancying no one was 
 looking, he slipped the knife under his napkin 
 on his lap. 
 
 This absurd action did not escape Philip's 
 notice. 
 
 ''That's right, old boy," he exclaimed, 
 *' always hide the proof of guilt." 
 
 The tears came into Ruddles' eyes, but he 
 said nothing. Mrs. Berner looked reproach- 
 fully at Philip, but he was not stricken by 
 remorse. 
 
 To make the boy forget this incident, Mr. 
 Berner asked him about his brothers and 
 sisters, and his friends. 
 
 " Have you many friends ? " 
 
 '• No ; but father and mother have."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 39 
 
 Philip could not resist this opportunity of 
 tormenting him. 
 
 '' Do you know Sophocles?" he inquired, 
 with a satirical air. 
 
 ''No; but perhaps father and mother do. I 
 never see their visitors." 
 
 This was too much for Philip. He roared 
 with laughter, and even Mr. Berner could not 
 suppress a smile. Mrs. Berner's indignation 
 at Philip's unfeeling mockery mastered her 
 sense of the ridiculous, and she determined to 
 let him know after dinner w^hat she thought 
 of his conduct. Poor Ruddles was bleeding 
 at heart, and his face quivered with emotion. 
 
 Philip gave him a short respite, and then 
 began again — 
 
 *' Do you know my name ? " 
 
 '' No, I don't." 
 
 ** Philip Beverley. And do you know after 
 whom I am called Philip? " 
 
 '' No, I don't." 
 
 '' After Philip the Second, King of Spain, 
 who was the most popular, kind-hearted, 
 generous, philanthropic sovereign that ever 
 lived. Do you know where Spain is ? "
 
 40 
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 '^ It is where the oranges come from to 
 make marmalade." 
 
 '' A very pleasant association of ideas. I 
 see you have a knowledge of something ; but 
 why haven't you learnt more ? " 
 
 '' Because I was never taught," said 
 Ruddles, blushing with shame. 
 
 '' Never mind," said Mrs. Berner. '' You 
 will soon learn a great deal here." 
 
 She did her best to prevent Philip from 
 worrying him further, but another misadven- 
 ture was in store for him before dinner was 
 over. Mr. Berner poured him out some wine, 
 and Phihp said — 
 
 ^' If you don't drink it off quickly it will 
 get into your head." 
 
 What Philip wished for happened. The 
 novelty of drinking wine, the consciousness 
 of being watched by those present, the haste 
 in which he swallowed the beverage, accord- 
 ing to his tormentor's directions, all these 
 things had a baneful influence upon Ruddles, 
 and he choked. The wine that remained 
 in the glass was all spilt on the cloth in 
 the violent fit of coughing that ensued, and
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 41 
 
 the poor boy felt ready to sink into the 
 ground. 
 
 When this trial had passed over, further dis- 
 comfort awaited him. Mrs. Berner withdrew 
 after dessert, and he felt as if his only pro- 
 tector had abandoned him. However, Philip 
 had teased him quite as much to aggravate 
 Mrs. Berner as to wound his own feelings, 
 and as this double result could now no longer 
 be attained, he left him comparatively at 
 peace. 
 
 When they repaired to the drawing-room 
 Ruddles was more at a loss than ever what to 
 do and what to leave undone. He did not 
 know whether he ought to stand or to sit, 
 to walk about or be quiet ; and, in short, he 
 was profoundly miserable. 
 
 Mrs. Berner was going to play on the piano, 
 and Philip went to open it. He called Ruddles 
 to assist him. The boy responded in great 
 trepidation to the call, and lighted the candles 
 at Philip's direction, but, having done so, he 
 -contrived to knock one of them down, the 
 wax dropping on the notes and on the 
 carpet. This disaster extinguished him for
 
 42 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 the rest of the evening. He took refuge In 
 a corner, and not even Mrs. Berner could lure 
 him out of it until it was bedtime, when he 
 took his candlestick and hurried up to his 
 room to cry bitterly for half-an-hour. 
 
 When he had retired, Mrs. Berner said to 
 Philip — 
 
 '' How could you be so unfeeling, Mr. 
 Beverley, as to make fun of that poor boy the 
 whole evening ? Did you not refiect that such 
 conduct is enough to spoil his disposition for 
 life ? How is it possible that you, a gentle- 
 man, could take pleasure in humihating a 
 fellow-creature like that ? " 
 
 '' Oh ! Mrs. Berner," he retorted, '' do not 
 be so tragic about such an absurd object. 
 How can one see him without laughing, and 
 how can one talk to him without being 
 tempted to make game of him ? " 
 
 Mrs. Berner would not surrender her point, 
 and continued to be displeased with Philip, 
 but he retired to his room unabashed, and 
 thought that for the first time since his resi- 
 dence at Dullroad Buildings he had had a 
 few hours of genuine amusement.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Fortunately for Ruddles, next morning- 
 Philip was in a patronizing mood, and was 
 gracious in demeanour towards that forlorn 
 youth. He met him in the passage and took 
 him into his room to show him his fine things, 
 an occupation which always put Philip in 
 good humour, especially when he had so 
 appreciative a spectator as James Ruddles, 
 whose surprise and admiration knew no 
 bounds. 
 
 While the young men were thus occupied, 
 Mrs. Berner was informing her husband that 
 she had found a tutor admirably adapted to 
 assist him in the tuition of his pupil. Mr. 
 Berner was in his study, looking over some
 
 44 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 books, the instruments of torture in store 
 for Ruddles. He looked very helpless over 
 the task, which he did not seem to relish 
 at all. The pleasure with which he heard 
 his wife's announcement may, therefore, be 
 imagined. 
 
 '' How did you hear of him, Charlotte ? " 
 he inquired. 
 
 *^ Oh, by the merest chance. I was going 
 to Dr. Grimmersby to ask if he knew of a 
 suitable person, when I met Mrs. Rabbits." 
 
 ''Who is Mrs. Rabbits?" 
 
 " Why, don't you know the little stout 
 red-faced woman who lives at number twenty- 
 four in this road and lets lodgings ? Well, 
 only think, she was just coming to me to 
 ask me if we knew of anybody who wanted 
 lessons in French or mathematics, as she 
 had a gentleman lodging in her house who 
 would be very glad to find pupils. She told 
 me he had given instruction at Dr. Grim- 
 mersby's, but had discontinued doing so 
 owing to a difference that had arisen between 
 him and the doctor. I immediately went to 
 her house and saw the party in question. He
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 45 
 
 looks poor enough, but seems clever, and he 
 referred me to Dr. Grimmersby. I went forth- 
 with to the doctor, who assured me that 
 although he could not agree personally with 
 Mr. Gallford, he could recommend him as 
 highly conscientious, clever, and efficient. So 
 I returned to Mrs. Rabbits' and settled 
 affairs with Mr. Gallford on the spot. He is 
 to come every morning from nine to one, and 
 every afternoon from three to five, Wednes- 
 days and Saturdays excepted, when his after- 
 noons are already engaged by a pupil whom 
 he does not wish to lose. The terms are to 
 be a guinea and a half a week ; he wanted 
 two guineas, but I held out for the lesser sum. 
 We are obliged to give the boys such expen- 
 sive food that we certainly cannot afford a 
 larger amount. I thought you would be glad, 
 Frederick, if I were to arrange everything on 
 the spot without giving you any trouble ; so 
 I took the responsibility on myself, and if you 
 do not like the man, why, we can easily dis- 
 continue his lessons." 
 
 '' I am indeed most thankful to you, Char- 
 lotte," Mr. Berner replied, '' for saving me the
 
 46 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 trouble, and I am quite sure he will be good 
 enough for Ruddles." 
 
 This was Mr. Berner's easy way of dispos- 
 ing of the business. 
 
 '' He will enter on his duties to-morrow 
 morning," Mrs. Berner continued. '' I think 
 he ought to be very grateful to Mrs. Rabbits, 
 though I suppose she did it as much for her 
 own sake as for his. On my leaving the 
 house, she told me he owed her ten days' 
 board and lodging, having earned so little 
 since he left Dr. Grimmersby's." 
 
 To the great alarm of Ruddles Mr. Berner 
 informed him after luncheon that he wished 
 to speak to him in his study. The boy 
 followed, with palpitating heart, not knowing 
 what was going to be done to him, and 
 wondering whether he had committed any 
 misdemeanour. He was rather relieved on 
 discovering that Mr. Berner only wished to 
 find out what he had learnt, though he was 
 greatly ashamed at having to confess the 
 extent of his ignorance. He could not even 
 write his own name correctly — he spelt it 
 *' Ruddels " — and his ideas were in a lament-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 47 
 
 able state of darkness and confusion. How- 
 ever, Mr. Berner thouorht that his feelinor 
 his uneducated condition so much was a 
 hopeful sign, and he told him that a clever 
 man was coming to initiate him in the field 
 of knowledge. This was terrible news, and 
 Ruddles awaited his appearance much as a 
 prisoner would await the appearance of his 
 judge. 
 
 Punctually at nine o'clock next morning 
 Mr. Gallford presented himself. He was 
 shown into the study, where ]\Ir. Berner and 
 Ruddles were awaiting him, the former with 
 curiosity, the latter with terror. A tall, thin, 
 sallow man, with envious greenish eyes, a 
 long, satirical, quarrelsome nose, a morose 
 mouth, an acrimonious expression, entered 
 the room. He was dressed in a somewhat 
 shabby, though not ill-made suit ; one of his 
 lean hands was crloved, the other bare. Givinor 
 Mr. Berner a hostile look, he made a frigid 
 bow and waited to be addressed. 
 
 '' I was glad to hear," said Mr. Berner, 
 '* the account that Dr. Grimmersbv eave of 
 your cleverness in tuition, and I hope our
 
 48 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 young friend may progress favourably under 
 your guidance." 
 
 Gallford bestowed on Ruddles a sour look, 
 and said — 
 
 '* If Dr. Grimmersby thinks me no ordinary 
 drudge, why did he treat me as such ? If he 
 thought me competent to teach, why did he 
 always interfere with my method of instruc- 
 tion? Sir, we must understand our footing 
 before we proceed. You confide certain 
 branches of your pupils' education to me ; 
 but those branches must be completely under 
 my own control. If, after a certain period, 
 you are not satisfied with the result, you 
 will tell me so, and I will cease to call ; but 
 in the meantime I beg you will not inter- 
 fere." 
 
 Mr. Berner was always submissive to people 
 of decision, and agreed to these uncompro- 
 mising terms. 
 
 '' Very well ; what am I to teach the young 
 gentleman ? " 
 
 '' Everything ; his education has been 
 neglected." 
 
 "A common case among the rich," mut-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 49 
 
 tered Gallford ; '' the poor are more conscien- 
 tious." 
 
 '' I am afraid," continued Mr. Berner, in 
 an apologetic tone, '' he cannot even spell 
 correctly." 
 
 '' Do you suppose," asked Gallford, ''that 
 a man of my powers of mind is to stoop to 
 teach blockheads their ABC? If justice 
 were done, I should now be renowned as the 
 greatest mathematician in Europe. But the 
 spite and jealousy of the celebrated prevent 
 the deserving from rising." 
 
 "It was settled," said Mr. Berner, ''that 
 you should teach whatever might be re- 
 quired." 
 
 "So it was," retorted the other; "but I 
 did not suspect I should be forced to sink sa 
 low." 
 
 "He wull soon make progress," said Mr. 
 Berner, soothingly ; "I am sure he is wilU 
 ing." 
 
 "He need be," muttered Gallford, with a. 
 contemptuous glance at the youth. 
 
 After further preliminary snarling, Gallford 
 sat down and began putting Ruddles through 
 
 E
 
 60 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 his paces. It was dull, slow work, and Mr. 
 Berner soon weaned of it, and left the room. 
 The poor boy's unexercised brain was in- 
 capable of performing the evolutions his 
 master required. The simplest task was a 
 mountain of difficulty, which he tried in vain 
 to climb. When anything was explained to 
 him his dull intelligence required five or six 
 repetitions before the meaning dawned upon 
 him. Gallford was a clever instructor, but his 
 manner was sharp and cutting, and his harsh- 
 ness often undid what his ability performed. 
 
 Mr. Berner had told Phihp what a peculiar- 
 looking man the new tutor was. The account 
 excited Philip's curiosity, and he determined 
 to have a look at him without delay. He 
 accordingly went into the study under pretext 
 of fetching a book. Gallford looked up at 
 the intruder, who appeared at his best, with 
 a haughty, self-confident air, a most fashion- 
 able attire setting off his fine figure, and a 
 magnificent ruby scarf-pin glittering afar — a 
 ruby that must have cost much more than 
 Gallford earned in a year. Gallford's bile was 
 roused at this splendour.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 51 
 
 " I beg you will not interrupt the lessons I 
 am orivinp^," he said. 
 
 '' It is for Mr. Berner, not for you, to com- 
 mand in this house. You can complain to 
 him if you choose." 
 
 Saying which, Philip opened the bookcase 
 and began rummaging its contents. 
 
 ''Will you leave the room, sir?" inquired 
 Gallford. 
 
 " I shall do so when I have found what I 
 am looking for," retorted Philip. 
 
 It was a hopeless attempt to fix Ruddles' 
 attention when Philip was present. He had 
 conceived the most intense admiration for 
 that brilliant youth, thinking him the incar- 
 nation of everything fashionable and accom- 
 plished. He could not take his eyes off him 
 while he was in the room, and even redoubled 
 asperity on the part of Gallford was fruitless 
 to arouse him from his ecstatic contemplation. 
 . When Philip thought he had aggravated 
 Gallford sufficiently, he went off ; but even 
 then the spell was not broken, and the master 
 had excessive trouble with his inattentive 
 pupil. He determined to speak strongly to 
 
 SSrnor.wNo.s
 
 52 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 Mr. Berner on the subject ; and when that 
 gentleman entered the room when the lesson 
 was over, he did so. Mr. Berner made light 
 of it. 
 
 '' Mr. Beverley really wanted the book, and 
 as he did not address your pupil I do not think 
 you have cause to complain." 
 
 On taking his hat from the stand in the 
 hall, Gallford encountered Philip. 
 
 '' Are you pleased with your pupil, Mr. — 
 er — hum — I forget your name ? " said Philip. 
 '' Gallford," said the other. 
 ^' Mr. Gallford. I hear you are a capital 
 hand at mathematics. Have you been 
 imparting that abstruse science to Mr. 
 Ruddles?" 
 
 Gallford opposed an invincible silence to 
 this impertinence. But Philip persevered. 
 
 '' I feel quite like a brother to Ruddles, 
 though we are so dissimilar in appearance. 
 
 " If he is not handsome," said Gallford, 
 " he is at least not a coxcomb ! " 
 
 " The same thing may be observed of you, 
 Mr. Gallford," Philip replied, blandly. '' Are 
 you going home? "
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 53 
 
 '' I am going to my lodgings." 
 
 '' I hope you have not far to go this wet 
 day, and that when you get to them they 
 are comfortable. Do you entertain many 
 friends ? " 
 
 '' I have none/' retorted Gallford, bitterly. 
 
 '^ You surprise me ! I should have thought 
 with your amiabihty you could not fail to be 
 surrounded by a host. Do you not feel 
 inclined to begin, and to enrol me the first 
 among your list of friends ? " 
 
 Gallford gave him a savage look, said 
 nothing, and left the house, slamming the 
 door behind him. 
 
 At luncheon Philip gave a ludicrous account 
 of this dialogue, and made even Ruddles 
 laugh at the way in which he took off the 
 " pint of vinegar," as he called Gallford. 
 But Mrs. Berner expostulated with him. She 
 declared that it was very wrong of him to 
 wound the feelings of a fellow-creature, as 
 she had told him on a previous occasion ; 
 that Gallford was a man of cultivation, who 
 had probably seen better days, and that he 
 was battling with obscurity and poverty.
 
 54 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 •' Bother his poverty ! " exclaimed PhlHp ; 
 *^ why don't poor people make money? If 
 the fellow comes across me with his sour looks, 
 for the life of me I can't help being merry 
 at his expense," saying which he drank off a 
 glass of his choicest wine with great gusto. 
 
 He was taking the most intense dislike to 
 Dullroad Buildings, and whenever he could 
 escape from the house he did so. That par- 
 ticular afternoon he took a long, aimless 
 stroll, his mind occupied with anything but 
 pleasant ideas. His discontent had been 
 aggravated by a letter from Sir Alexander 
 Marshfield describing all the gaieties and 
 enjoyments of which he himself was for the 
 moment deprived, and making the contrast 
 between his and his friend's position all the 
 more painful. 
 
 Immersed in these unwelcome reflections, 
 he was suddenly roused by the voice of a 
 young man asking if he could tell him the 
 way to Mr. Berner's. He looked up, and 
 saw^ in the speaker a man of gentlemanly 
 appearance, about two or three years older 
 than himself.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 55 
 
 '' I live at Mr. Berner's, and am going 
 home, and shall be happy to show you the 
 way," he replied. 
 
 It was a great relief to Philip to have 
 someone to talk to at that moment. If he 
 had been happier and more amused, his 
 manner would not have been so obliging. He 
 began talking, and soon elicited from the 
 other that he was living at Dr. Grimmersby's. 
 
 This gentleman, whose name is now intro- 
 duced for the third or fourth time, was a 
 celebrated crammer, the very reverse of Mr. 
 Berner, able, industrious, despotic, and 
 dreaded. He would take even the most 
 densely stupid youths, and force the requisite 
 learning into their minds. Whether they 
 digested it or not was all the same to the 
 doctor. They were stuffed with knowledge, 
 and at their examinations they disgorged it 
 with brilliant effect. 
 
 ^' I have an intimate friend," said Philip's 
 new acquaintance, ''who wished to study 
 under Dr. Grimmersby, but as he has no 
 vacancy at present he suggested Mr. Berner, 
 and I am going to make inquiries."
 
 56 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 '' I should be very glad if your friend were 
 to come to Berner's," said Philip ; '' we are a 
 miserably slow, dull set at present. The 
 only fellow there besides me is an oaf, and 
 Berner himself is a simpleton. The one 
 advantage is, you can do just as you like." 
 
 '' My friend will appreciate that highly," 
 said the other, with a smile. '' It is not 
 altogether Liberty Hall at Dr. Grimmersby's. 
 He is a stiff customer, and is always up to 
 the mark. But for my part I like him well 
 enough, and I have learnt more there in nine 
 months under him than in five years else- 
 where." 
 
 Philip could not bear to hear of anything 
 appertaining to study and work, so he tried to 
 change the subject by asking him what sort 
 of fellows were at the doctor's. 
 
 '' Well, they are, for the greater part, much 
 younger than I am ; and nearly all are so 
 hard-worked that the life is quite taken out of 
 them ; but if you were to see my friend I am 
 sure you would like him." 
 
 By this time they had arrived at their 
 destination. Laurence O'Brien, such was the
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 57 
 
 young man's name, had an Interview with Mr. 
 Berner, and arranged affairs with him for the 
 reception of his friend. The only difficulty 
 consisted in the terms. He said two hundred 
 and fifty guineas were too large a sum for his 
 friend Arthur Challoner to pay, and he was 
 only empowered to offer two hundred pounds. 
 Mr. Berner said he must consult his wife on 
 the subject, and, accordingly, Charlotte was 
 summoned. At first she was strongly against 
 any abatement, but O'Brien was so persuasive, 
 and he had such fine dark eyes, and he 
 assured her that his friend was such a 
 delightful man, and would give so little 
 trouble, that she yielded. Fine eyes were 
 always irresistible to Mrs. Berner, especially 
 when they were enhanced by an agreeable 
 manner. It was, therefore, arranged that in 
 two days Arthur Challoner should be received 
 into her house. 
 
 O'Brien rose to depart, and was met 
 outside by Philip, who offered to accompany 
 him home. Mr. Berner had told O'Brien, 
 wath visible satisfaction, who Philip was, and 
 the name of Philip's father as one of the
 
 68 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 richest men in England had long ere this 
 reached his ears. He was, therefore, desirous 
 of securing the good-will of so important a 
 personage for his friend, and gladly accepted 
 his offer. 
 
 '' But," he said, ^' I have to drop in at a 
 very odd man's abode, a man who used to 
 come to Dr. Grimmersby's. I do not wish to 
 lose sight of him ; and, indeed, I should be 
 very glad if you would come with me ; I 
 promised to bring him some friends now and 
 then to cheer him up, and you will be diverted 
 by an original." 
 
 Philip readily assented ; and they pro- 
 ceeded to no other place than 24, Dullroad 
 Buildings, the original in question being,, 
 indeed, the acrimonious Gallford. O'Brien 
 opened the hall-door without knocking and 
 proceeded upstairs, followed by Philip, in 
 perfect ignorance as to whom he was to meet. 
 A room at the top of the house, looking to 
 the back, was O'Brien's destination. He 
 rapped, and entered, followed by Philip, to 
 whose astonished eyes a room was revealed, 
 the bareness and discomfort of which made
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 5^ 
 
 the much-despised blue-room appear palatial. 
 Gallford was seated at a desk, with his back 
 turned to them, evidently deep in thought. 
 
 '*' What do you want ? " was his ungracious 
 query. 
 
 ^' I have come to see you, and have 
 brought a gentleman with me." 
 
 '' A man would be welcome," said the 
 original, without looking round, ^' but a 
 gentleman I spurn. In the nineteeth century 
 it is time that these conventional distinctions 
 should be things of the past." 
 
 Philip now recognized Gallford, and seemed 
 to enjoy the situation. 
 
 '' Come, come," said O'Brien, ''you are in 
 one of your perverse moods. Won't you even 
 look at your friends when they call ? " 
 
 '' I have told you repeatedly that I have no 
 friends." 
 
 '' What am I ? " asked O'Brien. 
 
 '' Certainly not my friend. How can I tell 
 what bad qualities may lurk under your 
 plausible exterior ? " 
 
 " Well, I must say," exclaimed Philip, '' Mr. 
 Gallford has the courage of his convictions."'
 
 €0 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 On hearing the tones of his mocking voice 
 Gallford started up and turned round. 
 
 ''Sir!" he exclaimed, ''how dare you 
 come to my room to insult me?" 
 
 "Sir," replied Philip, "this gentleman 
 asked me up without mentioning your name, 
 and I was not aware that I was to have the 
 honour of being ushered into the presence of 
 the distinguished mathematician." 
 
 " I understand you now," muttered Gall- 
 ford ; " I have discovered the clue to your 
 conduct. You are an admirer of the old 
 dynasty of mathematicians whom my theory 
 would dethrone." 
 
 Philip, who had never even opened a book 
 on mathematics, was prodigiously tickled at 
 the idea of being taken for a zealot in the 
 science. 
 
 " I assure you," he exclaimed, " I know 
 nothing about your theory ; and, far from 
 opposing it, I am willing to believe every 
 word of it even without its being explained to 
 me." 
 
 " That is the way they all treat me," Gall- 
 ford said, in an injured tone, to O'Brien. " I
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 61 
 
 have written to all the celebrities in Europe ; 
 they have either not answered or answered 
 with mockery. But I see through the hollow 
 disguise of their spite. It is not in vain that 
 I have studied and meditated. In defiance 
 of my enemies I shall soar like an eagle 
 to the summits of learning. My pinions 
 shall waft me above the meanness of the 
 age." 
 
 Philip was enjoying this scene more than 
 any comedy he had ever witnessed. 
 
 *^ As for that tyrant Grimmersby," con- 
 tinued Gallford, '^ I have set my mark upon 
 his brow. He tortured me in the hopes of 
 making me abandon my theories ; but, with 
 greater fortitude than Galileo, I defied the 
 pow^er of this new inquisitor. Before all the 
 miserable youths he was cramming I thun- 
 dered in his ears my scorn of his scientific 
 bigotry. The heartless creature had it in 
 his power to starve me, he had it not in his 
 power to refute me." 
 
 '* But," said O'Brien, with a mischievous 
 smile, "he cannot go altogether against the 
 spirit of the age. He has to prepare young
 
 ^2 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 men for public examinations, where your 
 theories do not prevail." 
 
 ^^ What is the wretched question of a few 
 muddle-headed boys passing their examina- 
 tions compared to the all-important question 
 of science and truth ? I will never bend to 
 sordid considerations, even though I perish 
 unrenowned." 
 
 Having given utterance to this lofty 
 declaration he sat down again at his desk, 
 taking no further notice of his visitors. 
 
 '' Will you not converse with us a little, 
 now we are here?" asked O'Brien. 
 
 '' No, I will not," said Gallford. '' I dis- 
 trust strangers, and I am tired of the way in 
 which you are going on. I have told you in 
 the most emphatic manner not to make 
 friends of the treacherous bipeds that inhabit 
 our globe. If you do not listen to my warn- 
 ing you will have cause to repent it. They 
 are the most dangerous creatures conceiv- 
 able — full of falsehood, perfidy, meanness, 
 cruelty, greediness, malignity, and selfish- 
 ness. I ask you what good can come of 
 fellowship with such monsters?"
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE? 63 
 
 " But there are some good people in the 
 world," protested O'Brien. 
 
 " Say, rather, there are some clever hypo- 
 crites," retorted the misanthropist, '' and 
 then you will be nearer the truth. Be on 
 your guard against the ^vhole human race, 
 and then you will be safe ; but to make 
 friends of them is unpardonable folly ; false 
 friends have been the destruction of many." 
 
 ''If you will excuse my saying so, I should 
 not like to live as you do," said O'Brien, '' in 
 such utter loneliness and gloom." 
 
 '' I am as happy as anyone can be in this 
 hateful world," said Gallford, bitterly ; '' much 
 happier than if I were dangling after wealthy 
 fops." 
 
 Philip laughed at this stab at himself, and 
 O'Brien thought it better to retreat before 
 even less complimentary views were ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 '' What an absurd man ! " exclaimed Philip 
 when they were in the street. 
 
 '' Say, rather, what a wrecked brain, and 
 withered heart," said O'Brien, sadly. '' I have 
 always felt for him more than I can say.
 
 64 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 What a wretched Hfe he must have Hved to 
 bring him to such views ! His brain was 
 never powerful, though always active, and 
 excessive study has weakened his nerves, 
 especially since he fancied he had made a 
 discovery in science, of the fallacy of which 
 he cannot be convinced. The idea that he 
 is not appreciated, and the pressure of his 
 poverty, will, I fear, only tend to increase his 
 bitterness. I have tried to befriend him, but, 
 as you see, it is of no use." 
 
 Philip was highly amused at his new 
 acquaintance taking Gallford so seriously, for 
 the thought of pitying him never entered his 
 head. He exhorted O'Brien to take no more 
 notice of the snappish creature, or only to 
 visit him with a view of extracting amuse- 
 ment from his oddities, and wound up by 
 inviting O'Brien to come and see him the 
 next day. 
 
 O'Brien accepted the offer, and thought, 
 with his usual buoyant heartiness, what an 
 agreeable friend he had made.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 From Exeter to London is a long stretch, 
 and wet weather does not make it appear 
 shorter. This seemed to be the opinion of 
 Arthur Challoner as he surveyed the cheer- 
 less prospect from the windows of the express 
 train that was whirling him along. Nor were 
 his own spirits sufficiently elated to enable him 
 to bear up against the dulness of the day. 
 He was thinking of his past years, so barren 
 of enjoyment, so void of affection, and of his. 
 future that did not seem more promising.. 
 Left an orphan at an early age, he had been 
 cast among strangers who did their duty by 
 the unbefriended boy, but nothing beyond it. 
 Ill-treated, or neglected, or oppressed, he had.i 
 
 F
 
 66 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 not been ; his guardian had given him as good 
 an education as could be procured at the 
 lowest possible cost, and he had profited 
 with rare ability from the slightest advan- 
 tages. But his heart had been left out in the 
 cold ever since he could remember ; no matter 
 how bleak or wintry his destiny might be, 
 there was no cheerful fireside where his spirit 
 could be warmed, no home where his presence 
 would be welcome and his affection returned. 
 No better proof of his excellent disposition 
 could be given than the fact that far from 
 being embittered by the cheerless tenour of 
 his life, he became all the more ready to 
 respond to friendship, and to requite kindness. 
 At school he had formed a few boyish attach- 
 ments, but the objects of his partiality dis- 
 persed here and there, and had soon forgotten 
 Arthur, who could show neither connections 
 nor prospects, only his own merits, to keep 
 his memory alive. 
 
 The one friend who remained true to him 
 was O'Brien. They had corresponded regu- 
 larly since their last meeting, and withheld 
 neither joys nor sorrows from each other.
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 67 
 
 Arthur, shortly after he came of age, received 
 a letter from a London solicitor, informing 
 him that he would, ere long, receive a small 
 sum, about seven or eight hundred pounds, as 
 one of the next-of-kin to Mr, John Challoner, 
 deceased, who had left a will drawn up in so 
 confused a manner that it had to be thrown 
 into Chancery, from which gulf the estate 
 was about to emerore, shorn of its beams, 
 two-thirds having been swallowed by expenses. 
 On the strength of this intelligence Arthur's 
 former guardian volunteered to advance him 
 two hundred pounds at seven per cent, interest 
 to enable him to go without delay to a 
 crammer's in order to qualify him for some 
 appointment. Arthur was willing to wait until 
 he had the money in his hands, as he had 
 waited all his life for a little prosperity ; but 
 the other had such excellent things to say on 
 the folly of losing time, on the probability of 
 further delay in the payment of the sum, that 
 Arthur, to whom it was always a prodigious 
 effort to say '' No," yielded, and had the 
 pleasure of signing a bond burthening him 
 with the payment of fourteen pounds per
 
 68 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 annum, and containing the proviso that 
 should the sum be returned within a year 
 the whole year's interest was nevertheless to 
 be paid in full. Arthur knew the imprudence 
 of what he was doing, and though he thought 
 his conduct unwnse, he was so utterly weary 
 of his joyless surroundings, that, merely to 
 escape from them a day sooner, he would 
 have sacrificed even a larger amount. 
 
 He asked O'Brien's advice as to where he 
 should go. O'Brien, as the reader knows, 
 recommended Dr. Grimmersby, and, failing 
 him, Mr. Berner was selected. As the latter 
 had secured the services of Gallford, the 
 choice was not entirely injudicious. Without 
 much hope of success, but with relief at the 
 impending change of scene, Arthur was now 
 on his way. Should he be favoured by fortune 
 in his future, well and good ; but should the 
 little money he was to have be spent in vain, 
 what then ? He pondered over this uncom- 
 fortable question, and the answers he could 
 find were not the most reassuring. Life lay, 
 indeed, before him with as dreary an ap- 
 pearance as the country through which he
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 69 
 
 was passing ; and the rain beating against 
 the carriage windows, and trickUng down 
 them like tears, seemed quite in harmony 
 with his painful cogitations. But the most 
 tedious journey must have an end, and the 
 most unprosperous life a close ; and he 
 thought, not without a pang, that joy and 
 sorrow w^ould then be equalized. 
 
 On such a day Dullroad Buildings w^ere, as 
 may be supposed, enwrapped in their deepest 
 gloom. Wherever the eye rested it encoun- 
 tered dampness and dinginess. Foggy atmos- 
 phere, drizzling rain, deep mud, cold, and 
 humidity greeted the new arrival. The first 
 object that struck Arthur was the high red- 
 brick wall facing the row of houses in which 
 the Berners lived. To reside opposite such 
 a sight was the next best thing to living in a 
 prison. As his cab slackened speed, he looked 
 at the houses, and their air of sullen respec- 
 tability chilled him. Number six was to be 
 let, and the gaunt, curtainless windows, with 
 their large white placards, revealed black 
 caverns of darkness within, and seemed to 
 proclaim that the last tenant had fled, over-
 
 70 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 come by the gloom of his residence, and was 
 destined never to have a successor. Number 
 five was only less dreary because inhabited, 
 and when the mournful figure of Mr. Berner 
 appeared at the hall-door, Arthur felt as if he 
 were sinking from melancholy into despair. 
 
 This is, indeed, a far from brilliant manner 
 for the hero of a novel to make his first 
 appearance. The gentle reader must be 
 Informed, probably to his great surprise, that 
 not Philip, with all his wealth, and not 
 O'Brien, with his fine eyes, but our dear, 
 long-suffering, warm-hearted Arthur Challoner 
 Is the centre round whom this story turns. 
 Gladly would I have introduced him in the 
 midst of a splendid ball at a ducal mansion, 
 flirting with a peeress, or riding a magnificent 
 mare in the park, but I am not inventing fiction, 
 I am recording truth — truth in all Its vastness 
 and depth, its pitiless severity and terrible 
 significance. 
 
 As Arthur had neither a wealthy father nor 
 a character for dissipation, Mrs. Berner was 
 far less eager for his arrival than she had been 
 for that of Philip, but when he did appear,
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 71 
 
 she gave him a kind reception, a Httle con- 
 descending, perhaps, still much kinder than he 
 had ever before experienced. She was favour- 
 ably impressed with his figure, manners, and 
 refined, clearly-cut features. 
 
 When Philip heard that Arthur objected to 
 the sum of two hundred and fifty guineas as 
 excessive, he set him down as little better 
 than a pauper ; but when he saw, instead of 
 the tattered object in his mind's eye, the 
 attractive form of the new comer, he was 
 taken aback, and hesitated for a moment 
 whether he should welcome him as an ally or 
 defy him as a rival. Fortunately for Arthur, 
 a happy thought occurred to Philip. He had 
 projected a sudden visit to his father, accom- 
 panied by O'Brien or Ruddles, as proof of his 
 present respectability, and as contrast to men 
 like Sir Alexander, but O'Brien was so taken 
 up with his studies that he would probably not 
 be able to accompany him, and Ruddles was 
 so plain that he might not make a favourable 
 impression on the fastidious Mr. Beverley ; 
 so that the scheme appeared likely to fall 
 through. But when Philip set eyes on Arthur,
 
 72 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 he thought to himself, '^ The very thing," and 
 determined to be particularly agreeable to the 
 young man. 
 
 Mr. Berner, the first time he was alone 
 with Arthur, seized the opportunity of im- 
 pressing upon him the wealth, the grandeur, 
 the importance of the Beverleys, a subject 
 which always inspired him with eloquence. 
 The unassuming Arthur thought it, therefore, 
 particularly graceful on the part of Philip to 
 show him such friendly feeling. 
 
 As for Ruddles, his allegiance w^as soon 
 divided between Philip and Arthur. He 
 thought the former peerless, and so far above 
 other mortals as to be worshipped only at a 
 distance ; but Arthur, although he had not 
 such splendid jewels or expensive habits, was 
 perhaps more delightful in his way, and cer- 
 tainly less capricious in demeanour. Ruddles 
 was at a loss to know whom he should prefer. 
 When Philip was unkind to him, which was 
 not seldom, he thought Arthur perfection ; 
 but when Philip condescended to smile, he 
 was of opinion that Philip was superhuman. 
 Thus his preference was wafted to and fro
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 73 
 
 ^'Ithout either of his idols caring whether he 
 liked him or not. 
 
 Arthur lost no time in setting to work in 
 true earnest. Gallford was summoned, and 
 was not displeased to have a more brilliant 
 pupil than the dull Ruddles. He was, of 
 ■course, extremely disagreeable to Arthur, 
 which at first mystified him exceedinorly • but 
 on discovering the peculiar character of the 
 man, he acted accordingly. While not giving 
 in to his whims, he showed by his industry 
 and attention that he valued Gallford's tuition, 
 a circumstance that did not fail to gratify the 
 misanthropist, although he studiously con- 
 cealed the fact. 
 
 Arthur's talents were first-rate, his industry 
 considerable, and his previous knowledge not 
 contemptible. He had a great turn for 
 languages and music ; the more abstruse 
 sciences had less attraction for him. 
 
 But we must not forestall events. We 
 must remember that we have not proceeded 
 in our narrative beyond the first days of 
 Arthur's residence at Dullroad Buildino^s. 
 
 He had an early visit from O'Brien, and
 
 74 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 they had many details to recount which had 
 not been confided to their correspondence. 
 
 Arthur was much troubled with his 
 Chancery money. The solicitor had written 
 a letter to Dullroad Buildings, which was 
 awaiting him on his arrival, to inform him 
 that next day he would receive a cheque for 
 his share of the estate. Next day arrived, 
 and with It a letter to say that complications 
 had arisen, which would probably delay pay- 
 ment for an Indefinite period. This was bad 
 news for Arthur, who had been obliged out 
 of the two hundred pounds to pay his guardian 
 several sums, which that worthy claimed as 
 having disbursed in former years, to say 
 nothing of a few trifling debts he was com- 
 pelled to discharge before leaving Exeter. 
 
 He had confidently hoped for an earl^ 
 settlement; this delay caused him consider- 
 able inconvenience. He talked over his 
 troubles with O'Brien, and derived consola- 
 tion from his hearty sympathy. O'Brien 
 offered to help him as much as his own 
 slender resources would allow, should he be 
 hard-pressed.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 75 
 
 While they were thus involved in debate, 
 Philip's cogitations were no less absorbing, 
 at least to himself. He was constantly hear- 
 ing from Sir Alexander, and from other asso- 
 ciates of former days, all urging him to rebel 
 against the tyranny of his father in forcing 
 him to live in such seclusion. He would 
 gladly have followed their advice could he 
 have seen his way to resisting his father 
 without injuring himself. But there was the 
 rub. Of one fact he was convinced : Mr. 
 Beverley, if annoyed beyond a certain point, 
 would be capable of taking much severer 
 measures than he had already done, and 
 Philip felt far from inclined to pass through 
 further unpleasantness. At the same time, 
 he was so weary of his present common- 
 place, unexciting existence, that he was ready 
 to make any appai^ent submission in order to 
 be released. The course lying before him 
 was plain enough : he must make fulsome 
 promises to his father of future reformation, 
 in order to be allowed to return home ; and 
 that object once gained, he could revert to 
 his old amusements and pursuits, only with
 
 76 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 greater secrecy than he formerly observed. 
 It did not cost him any effort to determine on 
 such a tortuous line of conduct ; and, having 
 arranged his plans, he carried them out with 
 vigour. His father's birthday was coming 
 round, and he wrote to him asking to be 
 allowed to return home for that day, and to 
 bring one of his companions with him, '' a 
 very delightful young man, to whom he had 
 taken a great fancy." The answer was pro- 
 pitious, and put Philip in the highest spirits. 
 He invited Arthur to go with him, an un- 
 expected favour which gave the latter great 
 pleasure, and confirmed him in his good 
 ■opinion of Philip's disposition. Mr. Berner 
 gave Arthur to understand that he ought to 
 think himself highly honoured by such an 
 attention. Wonderful power of wealth ! 
 Here was an upright, conscientious man, 
 who had undertaken the task of keeping a 
 dissolute youth in check, prostrating himself 
 even to the dust before him, and trying to 
 make others equally obsequious. 
 
 Arthur did not indulge in such reflections ; 
 he received what people said without refining
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 77 
 
 upon It, and heard with perfect good faith all 
 sorts of judgments and opinions. It may be 
 that he rose a Httle In his own estimation 
 after that dictum of Mr. Berner ; but however 
 this was, he felt great joy on the day he and 
 Philip went up to Town. It was splendid 
 October weather, uniting the brilliancy of 
 summer to the mellowness of autumn, and 
 giving the vast city a more joyous appear- 
 ance than It usually wears. 
 
 Mr. Beverley's carriage met them at the 
 station. Arthur, who wished to call on his 
 solicitor, as it was on his way, asked to be set 
 down at his office, saying he would follow on 
 foot ; but Philip, who was In a very amiable 
 mood, would not hear of this, and insisted on 
 waltins: for him. 
 
 The solicitor, on being handed Arthur's 
 card, sent word that he was too busy to see 
 him, but that when things were settled he 
 would let him know. He was not at all too 
 busy ; in fact, at that very moment he was 
 lounging In his chair and looking over a 
 magazine ; but he did not want to be bothered 
 with visits from nobodies. So Arthur had to
 
 78 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 go away without receiving the definite infor- 
 mation he so much desired. 
 
 He recovered from his disappointment on 
 entering Mr. Beverley's house. The un- 
 wonted splendour of every object that met 
 his eye, the taste and luxury to which he had 
 never been accustomed, surprised and in- 
 terested him. He had expected magnifi- 
 cence, but not magnificence like this, so 
 refined and yet so lavish, so sumptuous and 
 yet so artistic. The gorgeousness of colour 
 was subdued by the perfection of its ar- 
 rangement ; and the priceless value of the 
 marble staircase and the oak carvings, of 
 the tapestry and the hangings, and of the 
 pictures displayed in the rooms, was almost 
 forgotten in the harmonious effect of the 
 whole. 
 
 Mr. Beverley was in the drawing-room, and, 
 after receiving Philip's wishes for many happy 
 returns of the day, gave Arthur a very poHte 
 welcome. There was another gentleman pre- 
 sent, to whom Arthur was introduced, and 
 whom he soon discovered to be a Member of 
 Parliament, very indignant at having been
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 79 
 
 called to order during his speech the previous 
 night. 
 
 '' I assure you," he said, '' Mr. — er — Chal- 
 loner, that I — er — that I said — er — absolutely 
 nothing to provoke — er — to call forth — er — 
 to give rise to — er — that sort of thing. I am 
 convinced — er — that is, I am certain — er — 
 that I — er — in fact, I had — er — lost the thread 
 of my — er — argument, and — er — did not know 
 — er — was, in fact, not aware of the — er — 
 meaning of — er — what I was saying." 
 
 Arthur could not help smiling at the 
 naivete of this assertion, which was fully con- 
 firmed by the intellectual countenance of the 
 speaker. 
 
 Some other gentlemen soon made their ap- 
 pearance. They were all elderly, Mr. Bever- 
 ley himself being one of the youngest. Philip 
 was displeased at not having an opportunity 
 of speaking aside to his father, Mr. Beverley 
 was anxious to avoid his son as much as 
 possible, Arthur was being bored by the M.P., 
 the other guests were either dull or reserved, 
 so that conversation languished until luncheon 
 
 was announce 
 
 d.
 
 80 CAN IT BE TRUE 1 
 
 In spite of the excellence of the cuisine,. 
 and the richness of the wines, Arthur had 
 seldom sat at a duller table. He could not 
 help wishing that some of the wealth of the 
 visitors' pockets could be bestowed upon 
 their brains. Mr. Beverley looked by far the 
 cleverest of the party ; but he would either 
 not exert himself to talk well, or else studiously 
 kept down to the level of his company. Arthur 
 was sitting between the member and an old 
 gentleman who was so intent on the good 
 things before him that he had scarcely a word 
 to say, so we may imagine what slow work it 
 was. 
 
 After luncheon, Philip watched with lynx- 
 like vigilance for his opportunity. Fortune 
 favoured him, and he managed to draw his 
 father aside for a few minutes. What they 
 said was lost upon Arthur, as he stood in 
 another part of the room ; but he noticed that, 
 when the short dialogue was over, Philip 
 seemed pleased. At the moment they were 
 leaving, Mr. Beverley offered Philip the 
 carriage to take them back to the station, but 
 he declined it. Arthur wondered why. He
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 81 
 
 soon discovered the reason when they had 
 left the house. Instead of going In the 
 direction of the station, Phlhp went exactly 
 the opposite way. When Arthur drew his 
 attention to the fact, he smiled and said he 
 had a visit to pay. 
 
 They stopped at a house that was let in 
 chambers to bachelors. Philip asked for Sir 
 Alexander Marshfield. 
 
 They went upstairs, and were shown into a 
 pretty Httle room, where they were soon joined 
 by Sir Alexander in his dressing-gown. He 
 was a tall, thin, wiry man, with a languid 
 face, but sharp eyes. There was something 
 in his appearance and manner that reminded 
 one of a burnt-up volcano. 
 
 ^' How Is the Adonis of Dullroad Build- 
 ings ? " he inquired. '' Oh, what an address ! 
 How I laughed when I first read it ! The 
 only time I had laughed heartily for three 
 years. Is your Czar going to keep you much 
 longer In that Siberia ? " 
 
 '' I have seen him to-day," repHed Philip, 
 '' and he has issued a rather more favourable 
 ukase." 
 
 G
 
 82 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 '^ I'm sure I envy you your retirement," 
 said Marshfield, with a weary air. '' It will 
 give you a relish for pleasure again, a relish 
 which we lose if we are for ever revolving in 
 a round of gaiety. There is only one thing 
 of w^hich you never tire, one thing that is 
 invariably exciting." 
 
 ''What is that," asked Philip, ''drink?" 
 
 " Oh ! how can you be so low and common 
 in your ideas ? " Marshfield expostulated, 
 with mock indignation. " Drink is for the 
 besotted and the grovelling. What I am 
 thinking of rouses the mind instead of wreck- 
 ing it, sharpens the wits instead of destroying 
 them. Love palls upon us as years advance ; 
 pleasure fades and ambition declines, but the 
 gaming-table never ceases to attract, to rivet, 
 to thrill." 
 
 Arthur was becoming uneasy on finding 
 himself in such choice company. 
 
 " What is the world but a vast game of 
 chance?" continued Marshfield. "What 
 joy is greater than making money ; what 
 anguish more keen than losing it ? Why 
 should we not go to the fountain-head of
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 83 
 
 all these sensations? If people were only 
 to experience for one hour the deliciousness 
 of play, they would cease to preach against 
 it. Everything else would appear so tame, 
 so spiritless, so lifeless. If your friend," 
 with a polite glance at Arthur, " would feel 
 inclined to enter a club where high play is 
 carried on, I shall be happy to introduce him." 
 
 " I am afraid," said Arthur, '' that my 
 finances are not in a sufficiently flourishing 
 condition to allow me to indulge in such 
 pleasures." 
 
 ''The very reason for trying your luck," 
 said Marshfield. " Who ought to pay more 
 court to Fortune than he whom she has 
 hitherto left unnoticed?" 
 
 Arthur's arguments were not very ready, 
 but he persisted in his refusal. 
 
 '' Come with us," urged Philip ; '' you need 
 not take part in our play ; you need only look 
 on." 
 
 ''But are we not going home?" asked 
 Arthur in consternation. 
 
 " Yes, we are," said Philip; "we shall be 
 in time for the last train."
 
 84 CAN IT BE TRUEl 
 
 He and Marshfield urged so strongly on 
 Arthur that they had set their hearts on his 
 accompanying them, and that he need only 
 look on, that he at last reluctantly gave way. 
 They sallied forth when Marshfield had 
 finished his dressing, which took him a long 
 time. 
 
 On reaching their club they were shown 
 into a private room, where they were joined 
 by three or four choice spirits of Sir 
 Alexander's style. Play began at once, and 
 it was in all conscience high enough. Philip 
 was remarkably successful, and so was 
 Marshfield. On seeing their luck Arthur 
 was induced to try his own. He won, and 
 then lost, and then won again, and finally rose 
 from the table a gainer by ten pounds. 
 
 Marshfield laughed at the paltry sums he 
 staked, and urged him to play for as many 
 hundreds. But he had had enough of it for 
 that evening ; his conscience was reproaching 
 him, and he did not wish to be late for the 
 train. Philip declared that he must dine 
 after such exciting work. Arthur felt as if 
 the house would fall upon his head and crush
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 85 
 
 him. He longed to leave it, and urged Philip 
 to come away. 
 
 They went accordingly to a fashionable 
 restaurant, where they caroused so heartily 
 that they indeed lost their train. Philip was 
 quite drunk, and it was with difficulty that he 
 was prevailed upon to go quietly to an hotel 
 for the night. Arthur pursued a wretched 
 vigil, rebuking himself for his weakness. 
 They returned to Dullroad Buildings next 
 day, and Philip silenced Mr. Berner's re- 
 proaches by saying his father had kept them 
 for the night. He appealed to Arthur, who 
 had the further mortification of confirming a 
 lie.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 We have to ask the reader's pardon for a 
 grave misdemeanour. He has waded through 
 four chapters of this story without coming 
 across any lady who could be the embodi- 
 ment of his ideal of beauty and accomplish- 
 ments. The only member of the fair sex 
 who has received any prominence as yet is 
 Mrs. Berner, whose ideas are so unromantic 
 as to run chiefly on her household affairs and 
 the means of paying her bills. He has been 
 expected to endure the society of young men 
 and their tutors, unrelieved by feminine graces. 
 We are, indeed, highly to blame. We feel, 
 and we plead, guilty. Instead of bringing 
 our lady characters on the stage of this true
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 87 
 
 history as soon as the curtain rose, we have 
 most uncourteously kept them waiting in the 
 green-room while our jeunes premiers are, 
 we hope, reaping the applause of the audience. 
 But weighty considerations obliged us to 
 begin as we did. It would not be advisable, 
 we thought, to make the reader acquainted 
 with the charming young lady who is to 
 adorn the pages of this book before he is 
 intimate with the two men destined to wield 
 the chief influence over her future. But now 
 that he is able to form his suspicions of PhlKp 
 and his judgment of Arthur It is time to 
 introduce him to Miss Flora Wentworth. 
 
 She was the sole child of a father who 
 died when she was still an infant, and of a 
 mother who lived only long enough to see 
 her education completed. At an age when 
 she was about to enter the society for which 
 her mother had so carefully prepared her, 
 she found herself an orphan with a con- 
 siderable fortune, no near relatives, and no 
 friends with whom she could find the home 
 she had lost. Two years had still to elapse 
 before she would come of ao^e, and her
 
 88 CAN IT BE TRUE 1 
 
 guardian, a kinsman of her mother, being a 
 bachelor and having no experience in the 
 management of girls, thought the best way of 
 getting rid of her would be to provide her 
 with a companion of the highest respectability 
 and to send her travelling until she attained 
 her majority. He found a suitable lady in the 
 person of Mrs. Ford, widow of a distant con- 
 nection of his own, and a ready recipient of 
 his ideas. Girls were, in his opinion, like 
 dynamite — only to be handled with care, and 
 even then apt to explode unexpectedly. Two 
 things he thought them peculiarly liable to 
 do — to fall in love with married men or to run 
 away with fellows beneath them. Add to 
 this the possibility of a girl with Flora's 
 money falling a prey to a designing fortune- 
 hunter and you have a full list of his ap- 
 prehensions. His relief was great on hearing 
 Mrs. Ford promise to watch over her with 
 more than the vigilance of a Spanish Duenna. 
 This promise was kept. They travelled in 
 Belgium, France, Germany, Switzerland, 
 Italy for two years, and on their return Miss 
 Wentworth was as heart-whole as on the day
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 89 
 
 she set out. She had seldom been allowed 
 to speak to a man under sixtv, and at the 
 hotels Mrs. Ford always insisted on their 
 taking their meals in private for fear of their 
 encountering a too fascinating stranger at 
 the tahle-d'hote. Flora yielded to these 
 secluding arrangements the more readily as 
 she was naturally of a somewhat shy and 
 retiring disposition. But the travels were, 
 notwithstanding, beneficial to her. She be- 
 came a 2:ood linoruist, and the constant 
 change of air and scene improved her health, 
 which had formerly been delicate. 
 
 When they again set foot on our sea-girt 
 isle, Mrs. Ford thought it time to turn over a 
 new leaf and to bring her out with all the 
 eclat due to her beauty and position. Ac- 
 cordingly they took a house in Belgravia ; 
 she was presented, and appeared in society 
 with her indefatigable satellite Mrs. Ford, 
 who had, indeed, a much greater partiality 
 for the world than Flora. 
 
 They had been visiting in the country, and 
 had returned to town about the time our 
 story opens. Flora was glad to be in her own
 
 90 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 home again, and had decHned an excellent 
 invitation that would have delayed their 
 return for three weeks. 
 
 '' How can you, my dear," Mrs. Ford 
 expostulated, ''how can you throw away so 
 delightful an opportunity of enlarging your 
 circle of acquaintances ? Anybody else would 
 be delighted at the prospect of such a visit." 
 
 '' I only ask for one privilege," said Flora^ 
 with a smile ; '' and that is not to be obliged 
 to make myself a slave to pleasure and 
 society." 
 
 '' You are not a slave," argued Mrs. Ford,, 
 who was very matter-of-fact. " In the first 
 place, you would enjoy the visit if you would 
 only make the effort of accepting it ; in the 
 second, 1 am sure you would be the centre 
 of attraction to everybody in the house ; in 
 the third, you do very wrong to come back to 
 town just as the most miserable weather is 
 setting in ; and, finally, you ought not to^ 
 listen to what Lady Marshfield says." 
 
 Lady Marshfield, we must inform the reader,,, 
 was the mother of Sir Alexander, a woman of 
 great fashion and considerable intellect, who
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 91 
 
 had taken a fancy to the charming girl, and 
 of whom Mrs. Ford was wildly, morbidly, un- 
 reasonably jealous. 
 
 '' I am not influenced at all by Lady Marsh- 
 field in this affair," said Flora. 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," replied the other. 
 '' A more undesirable acquaintance for you I 
 cannot conceive. All London knows what a 
 scamp her eldest son is ; her second son is 
 not much better, though married ; and how 
 her daughter obtained a husband I cannot 
 understand." 
 
 '' She is most ao^reeable and kind-hearted," 
 Flora answered, with spirit. '' Nobody feels 
 her son's conduct more than she does ; and I 
 do not think she is at all to blame. As for 
 her daughter, she has only been rather fast 
 and indiscreet." 
 
 '' Flora, you surprise me ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Ford, with dignity. ''You, who have been 
 brought up with such high principles; you, 
 who are so irreproachable, how can you 
 possibly justify people of doubtful reputa- 
 tion ? " 
 
 '' I have never been taught," said Flora^
 
 92 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 " to be uncharitable in my judgment of 
 others." 
 
 '' That has nothhig on earth to do with the 
 question," repHed Mrs. Ford, with Increasing 
 asperity. '' Facts are stubborn things, and 
 they cannot be gainsaid. Lady Marshfield 
 Is, I repeat it, not a desirable acquaintance for 
 you. Though you are now of an age to guide 
 your own actions, I think It my duty to give 
 you the benefit of my wider experience." 
 
 '' Almost always I have followed your ad- 
 vice," said Flora; ''but now, for once, we 
 differ. Lady Marshfield Is most kind and 
 genial, and her society gives me real pleasure. 
 I seldom meet her sons at her house ; her 
 daughter is living abroad, so that no harm 
 can come to me from that quarter. Why, 
 then, should I deny myself the friendship of a 
 woman I like ? I have had few friends to 
 sympathize with me since my poor mother 
 died, heaven knows." 
 
 Mrs. Ford was silent. Had she spoken it 
 might not have mended matters. Her nature 
 was rather stiff and dry, and she was always 
 at a loss to understand why her society was
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 9a 
 
 not sufficient to answer the yearning of the 
 orphan's heart. She was really fond of Flora, 
 and her feelings were by no means prompted 
 by mercenary motives ; but her mind could 
 not grasp the fact that Flora was now of an 
 age when she was beginning to feel more ex- 
 pansive emotions. 
 
 Mrs. Ford soon left the room, and Flora 
 was alone with her thoughts. They were not 
 of the cheeriest kind. A vague desire for 
 love, sympathy, and warmth took possession 
 of her heart, and made her shed some burning 
 tears. 
 
 At this moment Lady Marshfield was an- 
 nounced. Flora received her with delight. 
 
 '' My dearest," she said, when she had 
 taken her seat, '' what gives you that sorrow- 
 ful expression ? Has anything occurred to 
 trouble you ? " 
 
 The speaker was tall and beautifully 
 dressed ; she had large, clear eyes, and an 
 expression of wit and shrewdness, tempered 
 by the most exquisite courtesy. 
 
 Flora, looking down, assured her It was 
 nothing.
 
 54 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 '' Allow me to doubt that statement," said 
 Lady Marshfield, taking her hand. *' There 
 must be something, or you, who are generally 
 so cheerful, would not be dejected. I have 
 so often tried to prove my affection for you, 
 that I am sure I have a right to ask for an ex- 
 planation." 
 
 '' Indeed, you have, dear Lady Marshfield," 
 said the girl, '' and it is not reserve that pre- 
 vents me from speaking ; it is merely the fact 
 that I have nothing to say. I have no sorrow, 
 no anxiety ; I ought to be grateful for all the 
 blessings I enjoy, I know it ; and yet at times 
 I feel so utterly wretched." 
 
 Here her voice quivered, and she burst into 
 tears. 
 
 Lady Marshfield smiled fondly, and 
 mentally reflected that she knew the best 
 remedy for these hysterical moods, but she 
 said aloud — 
 
 '' A few tears will relieve you, Flora. You 
 need not restrain yourself in my presence. I 
 wish you to look upon me as your true and 
 attached friend, and not to withhold your 
 feelings."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 95 
 
 She continued in this soothing strain, and 
 ere long Flora felt as if the load were really 
 being taken off her heart. 
 
 '' And now, my dearest," said Lady Marsh- 
 field, as she was about to leave, " I must ask 
 you to give me the pleasure of dining with 
 me to-morrow evening. We shall be quite 
 en faniille, except for one of Alexander's 
 friends, whom he wished me to invite. I am 
 sure you will not disappoint me by a refusal." 
 
 Flora was more than ready to accept the 
 invitation, and Lady Marshfield went away 
 pleased at having comforted her. 
 
 Mrs. Ford emerged from her retreat as 
 soon as the visitor was gone ; and it was not 
 to her satisfaction that she heard of the 
 engagement Flora had made for the next 
 evening. She was prudent enough to hold 
 her peace, and to make no further dis- 
 paraging remarks on Lady Marshfield ; but 
 she unwisely assumed a chilling demeanour 
 towards Flora, by no means calculated to 
 revive her waning influence. 
 
 Flora took great pains the next evening 
 with her appearance — not that she was in
 
 96 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 need of toilette arts to enhance her attrac- 
 tions, for she looked equally well in the 
 simplest as in the handsomest apparel — but 
 she was desirous of pleasing Lady Marsh- 
 field, whom she knew to be very fond of 
 fashion and dress. 
 
 The friend of Sir Alexander whom she was 
 to meet was Philip Beverley. He had by a 
 series of tricks escaped from durance vile at 
 Dullroad Buildings, and was now enjoying 
 himself in town. He had alarmed Mr. 
 Berner by informing him that he was sum- 
 moned home on urgent business for a few 
 days. He gave orders that his letters were 
 not to be forwarded, and off he went, de- 
 lighted with his '' ruse." Of course, instead 
 of going home he put up at an hotel, and 
 devoted himself to fun and amusement with 
 prodigious zest. 
 
 Lady Marshfield had originally hoped to 
 secure Flora Wentworth for her eldest son ; 
 but, perceiving his extreme dislike to the 
 matrimonial tie, she gave up the scheme, and 
 devoted her thoughts to obtaining elsewhere 
 a suitable husband for her young friend. Her
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 97 
 
 ideas of "suitable" were: firstly, rank; 
 secondly, riches ; thirdly, good looks ; and 
 only fourthly, good character and amiability. 
 
 " How is it possible," she used to argue 
 with her daughter, when persuading her to 
 accept the husband who subsequently made 
 her so unhappy, *' how is it possible for a girl 
 in our position, brought up to expect every 
 luxury and distinction, I say, how is it possi- 
 ble for her to renounce these claims merely to 
 gratify so fleeting a passion as love? If we 
 analyze love we find it is merely a figment, a. 
 fiction, the creation of a warm imaginationi 
 and an inexperienced heart. If, on the con- 
 trary, we examine the advantages of fortune,, 
 we find them to be most real, enduring,, 
 permanent, and beneficial. I own that 
 there must be a certain liking between those 
 who enter the married state ; but, really, any 
 feeling beyond that is a luxury for which you. 
 will have to pay dearly." 
 
 When her daughter's married life proved 
 inauspicious she was not shaken in these 
 convictions. 
 
 '' True," she thought, '' my poor child has. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 suffered from her husband's unkindness, but 
 she has other circumstances to console her. 
 If she cannot find pleasure in the enjoyment 
 of her wealth, she has in her children an un- 
 failing source of interest ; and if they are not 
 sufficient, she has a large circle of friends to 
 divert her thoughts. We must all suffer 
 something in this world. Rank, opulence, 
 consideration, all are hers ; can she not con- 
 sole herself with these gifts for those of 
 which she is deprived?" 
 
 Her mental answer to this question was 
 that if she failed to do so, she would be 
 ungrateful and unreasonable. 
 
 Lady Marshfield herself had married for 
 worldly advantages, and could, therefore, not 
 be accused of not practising what she 
 preached. She had never regretted her fate. 
 To appear handsomely dressed, to give 
 parties to the elite of society, to do good in 
 a fashionable way, to have a town house and 
 a country seat, all these things constituted 
 her idea of human feHcity. Completely 
 happy herself, she desired to obtain similar 
 prosperity for every girl of her acquaintance,
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 99 
 
 and for none more than for Flora Wentworth. 
 The orphan's solitude, in spite of her fortune, 
 touched her compassionate nature, and the 
 girl's attractions and accomplishments in- 
 creased her fondness. She was much dis- 
 appointed when Sir Alexander refused to be 
 captivated by so many charms, and for the 
 first time had a scene bordering on a quarrel 
 with him. To pacify her in some degree he 
 told her he knew of another man who might 
 suit her favourite, and on Lady Marshfield 
 asking his name he mentioned Philip Bever- 
 ley. She thought this a brilliant opportunity 
 for Flora, and eagerly desired her son to bring 
 him to her house. 
 
 And so it chanced that we find Philip and 
 Flora flirting in Lady Marshfield's drawing- 
 room on this eventful evening. When we say 
 *' flirting " we ought to qualify the expression 
 by stating that it was entirely carried on by 
 Phihp, she being too shy and reserved to play 
 more than a passive part. 
 
 He could be pleasant when he chose, and 
 on this particular evening he was determined 
 to show himself at his best. It would hardly
 
 100 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 have been suspected even by the keenest 
 observer that he was an occasional drunkard, 
 a constant gambler, and everything else most 
 undesirable. His good figure, his attractive, 
 if not handsome, features, and the ease and 
 pleasantness of his manner, would have 
 charmed even women with much wider 
 knowledore of the world than Flora. 
 
 He soon had the satisfaction of making 
 her talk, and when once her reserve was 
 overcome it was surprising how much she 
 had to say, and how well she expressed 
 herself. She forgot all her little sorrows and 
 trials while conversing with him, and it was 
 with regret that she found herself obliged to 
 leave when Mrs. Ford informed her that it 
 was time to depart. 
 
 The night was cold and stormy, and as she 
 entered her carriage, a gust of wind swept by 
 and seemed to bring back to her all the 
 solitude of her existence. 
 
 " You appeared to enjoy yourself," re- 
 marked Mrs. Ford as they were driving 
 along. 
 
 *' I did very much," said Flora.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 101 
 
 '' I confess it surprised me that you should 
 take pleasure In the conversation of that fast 
 young man." 
 
 '' Why do you call him fast ? " 
 
 '' Because he is so." 
 
 " How do you know that ?" 
 
 Flora had a puzzling way of putting these 
 extremely simple questions. Mrs. Ford's 
 mental resources were not ample enough to 
 enable her to give a roundabout reply, so she 
 could only say dogmatically — 
 
 '' Because I know it." 
 
 *' I should not have thought it. He is 
 neither loud nor flashy." 
 
 ^' There are many ways of being fast." 
 
 " Then his is a very agreeable way," said 
 Flora. 
 
 The duenna sighed and leant back in the 
 carriage. What was she to do with this 
 positive child ? 
 
 They were both silent. Flora's thoughts 
 were evidently running on Philip Beverley, 
 and Mrs. Ford was casting about for means 
 to break the charm. She thought she had 
 discovered a good method for doing so, but
 
 102 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 unfortunately the sequel was to prove that 
 her conduct only tended to increase Flora's 
 partiality. She was so injudicious as to harp 
 continually on the faults and foibles of Lady 
 Marshiield and her circle, thus making her 
 remarks doubly unsavory to Flora by casting 
 a slur on her most intimate friend and 
 implying discredit to Philip. From morning 
 till night Mrs. Ford was constantly alluding 
 to this ill-chosen topic, with the result of 
 becoming at last positively irksome. 
 
 Flora took refuge as much as she could 
 with Lady Marshfield, and there she found 
 very different companionship. The utmost 
 cordiaHty, the most genial sympathy, the 
 most enjoyable conversation, awaited her. 
 
 With consummate tact Lady Marshfield 
 spoke of Philip as an old friend of Sir 
 Alexander, for whom she had quite a 
 motherly feeling. She mentioned his father 
 in terms of the highest esteem, and led Flora 
 to beheve that the same excellent qualities 
 were to be found in the son. Without 
 obtruding his wealth, she did not let it re- 
 main in the background ; and, in short, every
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 103 
 
 circumstance that could possibly captivate a 
 young girl's imagination was brought promi- 
 nently forward, and the darker shades were 
 either softened down or else left out altogether. 
 It was not to be wondered at that Mrs. Ford 
 failed and Lady Marshfield succeeded. 
 
 As for Philip, his ideas on matrimony 
 coincided almost entirely with those of his 
 friend, save that he looked forward to some 
 remote day In the future when he should 
 settle down and marry. Sir Alexander had 
 given him warning what was in the wind, and 
 he delighted immensely In being rallied on 
 the subject. 
 
 Lady Marshfield decided on a bold move. 
 She was slightly acquainted with Mr. Beverley 
 and wrote to ask his permission for herself 
 and some of her friends who were interested 
 in painting to see his collection of pictures. 
 Of course he gave a favourable answer, and 
 she went one day with a party consisting of 
 Miss Wentworth, Mrs. Ford, Miss Parsons, a 
 lady who was straining every nerve to become 
 a well-known painter, and several other ladies 
 and gentlemen. Lady Marshfield left the
 
 104 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 extraordinary splendour and beauty of the 
 house to take Its effect on Flora. 
 
 Mrs. Ford perceived with mortification the 
 success of Lady Marshfield's designs. Flora 
 could talk of nothing when she returned 
 home but of Mr. Beverley's courtesy, the 
 likeness there was between him and his son, 
 the masterpieces of painting he possessed, 
 and the enjoyment she had derived from the 
 visit. 
 
 Certain of Flora, Lady Marshfield began 
 to devote herself to securing Philip. This 
 was not so easy a task. His nature was not 
 sufficiently affectionate to allow him to fall in 
 love, and he had so many pleasures and 
 diversions that he was far from letting his 
 thoughts recur constantly to Flora, as hers 
 were recurring to him. 
 
 But Lady Marshfield did not despair. She 
 arranged several meetings between the couple; 
 and if he was not enamoured, she perceived 
 that he was certainly attracted. She was 
 puzzling her brain as to how she could urge 
 him on, when events occurred that advanced 
 her schemes to an extent unknowui to herself.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 105 
 
 And here we cannot help pausing to reflect 
 on the frequency of reckless match-making 
 even on the part of women far loftier in 
 character than Lady Marshfield. Characters 
 are embittered, hearts broken, lives wrecked ; 
 and all this misery is caused, not for an end 
 good in itself, but merely to obtain posses- 
 sions that cannot confer happiness or inspire 
 affection.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 After his visit to town, Arthur went through- 
 much that was unpleasant and unwelcome. 
 He had to evade the inquiries of Mr. Berner, 
 and to satisfy the curiosity of Charlotte, who 
 was anxious to know particulars about the 
 arrangements in Mr. Beverley's house ; at 
 the same time he had to keep guard on his 
 speech lest he should betray Philip and re- 
 veal his own weakness. To him, so unversed 
 in falsehood, deceit, and reticence, this was a 
 great trial. He wished over and over again 
 that he had not yielded to the importunities 
 of his companions, and yet so much did he 
 long for a little friendship that in the presence 
 of Philip he was happy and unable to reproach
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE 1 107 
 
 him for his conduct. Philip, as we have seen,, 
 went up to town several times subsequently, 
 and Arthur missed his company, and always 
 welcomed him cordially on his return. 
 
 Arthur was, In truth, the very soul of warm- 
 heartedness and kindness. He was loth ta 
 believe that the generality of mankind were 
 far from being like himself In this respect, 
 and his unsuspicious nature was destined to 
 cause him many sorrows, as the reader will 
 see. 
 
 He made advances to Gallford with as 
 much kindness as O'Brien, and with the same 
 unsatisfactory result. There was no lighten- 
 ing the gloom or softening the asperity of the 
 misanthropist, whose bitter feelings led him 
 one afternoon to be most cutting and wound- 
 ing in language to Arthur, and by his violent 
 conduct to be excluded from Mr. Berner's 
 house. Arthur had been conversing with 
 Philip, and on Gallford entering the room 
 Philip left it. 
 
 *' Is that how you pass your time," said 
 Gallford to Arthur, '' talking to that con- 
 ceited coxcomb ? "
 
 108 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 '' He is one of my best friends," said 
 Arthur. 
 
 '' Oh, indeed ! Best friends, forsooth ! I 
 should Hke to know what your worst are." 
 
 " I beg you will not use such offensive 
 language," retorted Arthur, much offended. 
 
 '' I see you are Hke the rest of the world, 
 you cannot bear truth. But whether you like 
 it or not, I am determined to tell it. I say 
 and maintain, that that Philip Beverley is one 
 of the most utterly bad creatures on the face 
 of the earth. You have only to look at his 
 countenance to see conceit, selfishness, pride, 
 indolence, caprice and perfidy written in 
 legible characters." 
 
 '' All I can say is that he has been very 
 kind to me." 
 
 '^ Oh, yes, of course, without doubt. I 
 have heard of the favours he showered upon 
 you. He took you one day to his father's 
 magnificent house, where you had a good 
 dinner, and where you met some of those 
 people whom the world calls great. I am 
 thankful I know none of them. If his father 
 were a poor man living in an obscure part of
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 109 
 
 the town, you would not have accepted the 
 invitation so eagerly, or have been so grate- 
 ful for it." 
 
 ^' I do not see what right you have to talk 
 to me in this manner," said Arthur. 
 
 '^ The right of the experienced to advise 
 the ignorant. What do you know of the 
 world ? You fancy it is what it appears. 
 You are like that fool O'Brien, who Imagines 
 he makes a friend of every fellow he meets." 
 
 ^' It is most ungrateful of you," said Arthur, 
 '' to speak in such a manner of my friend 
 and your benefactor." 
 
 '' That harum-scarum Irishman my bene- 
 factor ? Who put that absurd idea Into your 
 head ? Has he boasted of all that he did for 
 me? Has he made himself out an equal to 
 Pythias and Damon ? " 
 
 '^ He has done nothing of the kind ; but I 
 have heard from other sources how deeply 
 you are Indebted to him," 
 
 '' To the tune of three pounds ten shillings 
 and sixpence. That Is the amount of what he 
 lent me, if you are alluding to pecuniary debts. 
 He forced the money on me, I suppose to be
 
 no CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 able to applaud himself for his kindness and 
 generosity." 
 
 *' It was nothing of the sort," Arthur 
 replied ; *' it was real kindness." 
 
 '' Real bosh ! There is no such thing as 
 kindness. People do everything either for 
 their pleasure, advantage, or reputation." 
 
 " Do you not believe in friendship ? " 
 
 '* No ! What people call friendship is 
 merely the amusement or profit they derive 
 from the society of particular individuals." 
 
 '* My experience teaches me that friendship 
 exists. I have suffered much ; many have been 
 unkind to me ; but some, who could have had 
 no selfish motives, have conferred upon me 
 real benefactions." 
 
 '' You think so," replied Gallford, "' because 
 you cannot see into them. They did not 
 wish to benefit you, they only desired to 
 enjoy your thanks and praise. Their conduct 
 was merely a refinement on vulgar selfish- 
 ness." 
 
 '' I am thankful," said Arthur, "that I do 
 not look at my fellow-creatures with your 
 jaundiced eye."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 1 111 
 
 " That sentiment could only proceed from 
 one who is foolish and young ! " 
 
 This was more than flesh and blood could 
 bear. To be told that he was foolish and inex- 
 perienced was trying enough for Arthur, but 
 to be taunted with his youth was beyond 
 endurance. 
 
 '' Mr. Gallford," he said, '' I think we had 
 in future better confine ourselves to our 
 studies, and not enter on conversation that is 
 unworthy of you and offensive to me.'' 
 
 '* If my conversation is offensive," said 
 Gallford, '' my presence must be so too. It is 
 desirable that our studies should cease as 
 well. I am not accustomed to be ordered 
 when to speak and when to hold my peace ; 
 I would far rather be liberated from the 
 necessity of holding further communication 
 with you." 
 
 *' As you please," said Arthur. 
 
 '* But one thing I will tell you, and you will 
 repeat it to O'Brien," said Gallford, rising. 
 ** I wish all intercourse to be cut off between 
 you and myself, O'Brien and myself, Dr. 
 Grimmersby and myself. I have been per-
 
 112 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 secuted by Dr. Grimmersby, patronized by 
 O'Brien, and contradicted by you. These 
 things are quite sufficient to give me a 
 sickener of your set. I suppose I shall have 
 to come to this house to teach Ruddles ; but 
 if I ever meet you, I shall treat you with the 
 contempt you deserve. You worship Beverley's 
 wealth. May it do you good ; may you fatten 
 upon it ! The one circumstance that gives 
 me satisfaction, is that I have never spoken 
 to him in the strain of flattery and adulation. 
 I hope you will be accompanied through life 
 by friends equally estimable ! I hope you 
 will not find human beings the vipers I have 
 found them, and that you may pass through 
 the world without injury from false friends ! " 
 With this kind wish, uttered in a tone 
 implying exactly the reverse, Gallford left the 
 room. His nature was stirred to the very 
 depths of its soreness and bitterness. His 
 depressed hopes, his blighted affections, his 
 dreary existence, were brought before him in 
 all their Intensity by Philip's prosperity and 
 Arthur's kindness. Perhaps he remembered 
 the time when he had something of Arthur's
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 113 
 
 freshness and youth, perhaps the memory of 
 happier days came over him Hke a briUiant 
 dream, the vanishing of which is painful and 
 cruel. Who can tell ? Who can penetrate into 
 the abyss of wretchedness concealed within 
 this man's heart ? 
 
 He was seldom in a humour to bear aggra- 
 vation, least of all on this day. But his ill- 
 luck was keeping it in store for him. He had 
 to give a lesson to Ruddles before leaving, and 
 we may pity the poor boy who was forced to 
 bear the brunt of his ill-humour. Mr. Berner, 
 in an adjoining room, suddenly heard howls 
 proceeding from the study. He rushed in 
 and beheld a terrible sight, Gallford standing 
 over Ruddles and grasping him by the hair 
 of his head with one hand, and punching his 
 thick skull with the knuckles of the other. 
 
 " Oh! boo-hoo-hoo! don't," roared Ruddles. 
 
 '' Will you pay attention, or not ? " yelled 
 Gallford, thumping away with increased 
 vigour. 
 
 " Good heavens, Mr. Gallford, what are you 
 dreaming of?" cried Mr. Berner, seizing his 
 hand. '' Will you desist at once ? " 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 But Gallford, beside himself with passion, 
 being prevented from punching, clutched the 
 boy's hair so tightly that he howled louder 
 than ever, and thought his scalp was coming 
 off. His bellowing brought Mrs. Berner, 
 Philip, and Arthur into the room. 
 
 '' Oh, boo-hoo-hoo! Oh, don't, don't!" 
 
 Philip vigorously wrenched Gallford's hand 
 from the boy's head, and the misanthropist 
 presented an absurd picture of baffled rage, 
 being held on one side by Mr. Berner, on the 
 other by Philip, and casting furious glances 
 at Ruddles, who was sobbing in Mrs. Berner's 
 arms Hke the big baby he w^as. 
 
 *' Oh, he has hurt me so ! Boo — hoo — • 
 hoo!" 
 
 " Never mind," said Mrs. Berner. '' It is 
 over now." 
 
 '' He shan't do it again ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Berner, shaking his fist under the misan- 
 thropist's nose. 
 
 '^ The damned dunce deserved it ! " cried 
 Gallford, struggling with his captors. 
 
 ''Mr. Gallford! How dare you use such 
 profane language ? " said Mrs. Berner.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUEl 115 
 
 " Mind your figures of speech/' said Philip 
 to Gallford. 
 
 " How dare you inflict corporal punish- 
 ment on a young gentleman under my care ? "' 
 asked Mr. Berner. 
 
 " I'll tell father," said Ruddles. 
 
 " How dare you ? How dare you ? How dare 
 you?" said Philip, shaking Gallford vigor- 
 ously. " Is that your method of making learn- 
 ing agreeable ? " 
 
 Gallford darted viper- like glances at everv- 
 body. 
 
 " This is not the first time to-day that Mr. 
 Gallford has forgotten himself," said Arthur. 
 
 '^ I suspected as much ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Berner. " I have noticed that Mr. Gallford's 
 temper is anything but under his control, and 
 I think the sooner we dispense with his 
 services the better." 
 
 Gallford, released from their grasp, stalked 
 to the door with as much dignity as he could 
 command. As he was opening it he turned 
 round and said — 
 
 " Far from regretting what has occurred, I 
 rejoice in it. It saves me the intolerable
 
 116 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 yoke of coming to this house, after I have 
 discovered the contemptible characters of 
 those who Hve here." 
 
 " Look to your own character," said Phihp. 
 ** It is in great need of improvement." 
 
 *' I hate that Beverley ! " muttered Gallford, 
 as he left the house. " I wish I could serve 
 him off thoroughly." 
 
 Similar scenes of violence and reviling 
 usually ended all Gallford's relations with 
 people, and then he would retire to his miser- 
 able retreat and brood over the wickedness 
 of the human race. 
 
 Mr. Berner's relief at being rid of him was 
 beyond description. He had from the begin- 
 ning felt an instinctive dislike to the man, 
 which increased as almost every interview 
 brought out more fully his unamiable cha- 
 racter. The next morning he sent Gallford 
 the sum owing to him, and received an 
 acknowledgment couched in the following 
 insolent terms : — 
 
 '' Received, without thanks, the above sum 
 from the so-called Reverend F. Berner. 
 
 ''John Gallford."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUEl 117 
 
 Mr. Berner, in great indignation, sent back 
 so unseemly a receipt, and the corrected 
 acknowledgment ran thus : — 
 
 " Wages paid.— J. Gallford." 
 
 Further bickering with so perverse a 
 creature being obviously useless, Mr. Berner 
 allowed this last document to pass, and turned 
 his attention to the search of another tutor. 
 His wife was, as usual, of the greatest assis- 
 tance, and discovered the very man suited to 
 their purpose. 
 
 Mr. Smilie made the most favourable im- 
 pression on Mr. Berner. He came smirking 
 into the room, advanced on tiptoe, made the 
 profoundest bows, and bestowed the blandest 
 salutations on Arthur and Ruddles. 
 
 " It affords me the most exquisite pleasure," 
 he began, '' to inform Mr. Berner that his old 
 friend the Dean has done me the honour of 
 choosing me to be the bearer of this letter." 
 
 Saying which, he handed an epistle to Mr. 
 Berner. Scarcely of the middle size, with 
 scanty fair hair, a thin, perpetually smiling, 
 but otherwise inexpressive face, a weak shrill
 
 118 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 voice, Mr. Smilie presented the most striking 
 contrast to his predecessor. 
 
 The Dean's letter being highly laudatory, 
 Mr. Berner soon came to terms with its 
 bearer. When all the details were settled, 
 Mr. Smilie thought it time to begin paying 
 court to his future pupils. He smiled benignly 
 on Ruddles, but not knowing exactly how to 
 compliment him, he turned to Arthur. 
 
 " Do you know, Mr. Challoner," he said, 
 '' that you remind me most strikingly in ap- 
 pearance of a former pupil of mine. Lord 
 Proudham ? The same eyes, the same fine 
 profile, the same manly expression. He was, 
 perhaps, a trifle taller, but you have a more 
 elegant figure. The resemblance is really 
 wonderful. Lady Proudham, his mother, did 
 me the honour of being very partial to me, 
 and I am even now occasionally favoured by 
 her notice. I never had a pupil to whom I 
 was more devotedly attached than to Lord 
 Proudham, and you remind me of him, oh, so 
 vividly ! " 
 
 Here he clasped his hands and turned up 
 his eyes in an ecstasy of admiration, present-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 119 
 
 ing a most burlesque appearance. Arthur, 
 totally unaccustomed to such clouds of in- 
 cense, scarcely knew what to say in reply. 
 Ruddles thought what a pleasant person the 
 new tutor seemed, and as for Mr. Berner, he 
 was delighted to hear that a young man in 
 his house made so distinguished an appear- 
 ance and so noble an impression. 
 
 Shortly afterwards they were joined by 
 Philip. On being introduced to him Smilie 
 gave a rapturous squeak. 
 
 '' Oh-h-h ! Is it possible that I have the 
 pleasure of addressing the son of Mr. Bever- 
 ley ? My dear sir, I had once the distinguished 
 honour, at Lady Proudham's, of being in the 
 same room with your universally beloved and 
 respected father. From the striking resem- 
 blance you bear to him I should have 
 recognized you wherever I might have had 
 the happiness of seeing you. The same 
 thoughtful brow, the same commanding eye, 
 enhanced by the charm of youth ! Oh ! how 
 delightful these unexpected meetings are ! " 
 
 At this point his emotions overpowered 
 him, and he was obliged to pause.
 
 120 CAN IT BE TRUE'i 
 
 ^^ I sincerely trust," he continued, after a 
 few moments, '^ that when last you heard from 
 Mr. Beverley he was in the enjoyment of 
 good health and spirits ? " 
 
 '' Thank you, he was in excellent health." 
 
 '' Would it be asking too great a favour," 
 said Smilie, '' if you would kindly, when next 
 you write to Mr. Beverley, present my 
 respectful homage, and say how much plea- 
 sure it gave me to be introduced to you, and 
 with what joy I heard that he was so well? " 
 
 " I shall be happy to do so," said Philip, 
 superciliously, '' but I do not suppose my 
 father is aware of your existence." 
 
 ** Oh, how true!" exclaimed the servile 
 creature; ''how just is that observation! 
 But still, if you were to grant my request 
 you would confer a boon upon me." 
 
 Philip, with great condescension, promised 
 to do so, a promise he carried out that very 
 evening by sending his father a farcical 
 account of the absurd man he had met that 
 day. 
 
 Arthur was so sickened by the obsequious- 
 ness of Smilie that he almost regretted the
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 121 
 
 asperity of Gallford, who was at least honest 
 and Independent. But this sentiment was 
 not shared by the others. Philip only saw 
 enough of the new tutor to be diverted by 
 him. Ruddles was enchanted with his suavity 
 and lax discipline. Mrs. Berner endured him 
 because he was quiet and biddable, and her 
 husband was delighted to find somebody who 
 behaved with deference and submission. 
 
 Philip had now completely thrown off the 
 mask, asserting his right to absent himself 
 whenever he chose. At first Mr. Berner 
 tried to remonstrate, but he soon gave up his 
 feeble attempt as hopeless. Philip received 
 one day an invitation for a ball from Lady 
 Marshfield, and in reply begged for an invita- 
 tion for his friend Arthur Challoner. Arthur, 
 being still in suspense about his Chancery 
 money, was unwilling to go to the cost 
 necessitated by such an invitation, besides 
 wishing not to divert his mind from his 
 studies. But Philip, not satisfied with urging 
 it himself, enlisted Mr. and Mrs. Berner on 
 his side. He assured them that Arthur 
 ■wanted a little enlivening, and they joined
 
 122 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 him in his request. Arthur at last yielded, 
 somewhat against his will, and thought it very 
 kind of Philip to be so anxious to secure him 
 amusement. 
 
 But there was always an underlying design 
 in Philip's actions. As on the day when he 
 took him to his father's, so this time he was 
 desirous of parading his friend before Lady 
 Marshfield, and of giving her a favourable 
 idea of his own kindness and amiability. He 
 also wished to let Arthur see how much he 
 was courted by the best society in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The day came round. They went to 
 Philip's favourite hotel, and Arthur sighed 
 to think how deep an inroad this trip would 
 make on his almost empty purse, Philip not 
 having invited him as his guest, which we 
 are of opinion he might well have done. But 
 he had no real consideration for anybody, and 
 no sympathy beyond himself. 
 
 The ball was splendid. Lady Marshfield's 
 rooms, beautiful in themselves, were made 
 much more so by the most exquisite decora- 
 tions, and the society was, of course, the
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? V2?y 
 
 very best. Miss Wentworth was there, one 
 of the loveliest girls in the room, guarded by 
 Mrs. Ford. 
 
 Among those who attracted most notice 
 was Miss Parsons, the artist, who, thous^h 
 not handsome, had a good figure, and a 
 singular cast of countenance which could 
 not fail to rivet attention, even if it did not 
 charm. Miss Parsons and Flora had taken a 
 liking to each other, and were fast becoming 
 intimate friends, a fact that caused Mrs. 
 Ford extreme annoyance, and made her hate 
 the artist almost as much as Lady Marshfield. 
 She had so long been the sole associate of 
 Flora that she could not resign herself to 
 become secondary in her consideration. 
 Unable to conquer this petty jealousy, and 
 too straightforward to dissemble, she recom- 
 mended herself daily less and less to Flora's 
 favour. 
 
 Arthur was enchanted with Miss Went- 
 worth' s beauty, and he was never tired of 
 watching her while she was dancing with 
 Philip. 
 
 " What do you think of that girl?" asked
 
 124 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 Philip, when she was dancing with someone 
 else. 
 
 " Whom do you mean ? " asked Arthur. 
 
 " That Wentworth girl/' said Philip. 
 
 Arthur considered this a most Impolite way 
 of alluding to her, so he said coldly — 
 
 ''I think Miss Wentworth perfection." 
 
 " Her eyes are good and her hands lovely," 
 said Philip, '' but otherwise I don't see much 
 perfection about her, although she Is above 
 the common run." 
 
 What would Flora, who was beginning to 
 love Philip with all her heart, have thought of 
 these ungracious words ? Happily, or rather 
 unhappily for her future, she was Ignorant of 
 their having been uttered, and she thought 
 Philip delightful. Philip told her that Arthur 
 was his most intimate friend. She, therefore, 
 made herself agreeable to him. He danced 
 with her once, and several times with Miss 
 Parsons. This lady, whose faculty of admira- 
 tion was great, had a vast deal to say In 
 praise of Flora, a theme to which Arthur was 
 never tired of listening. When Miss Went- 
 worth had taken her departure, the charm of
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 125 
 
 the entertainment seemed to Arthur to have 
 vanished, and even Lady Marshfield's jewels 
 appeared to blaze less intensely. He was 
 glad when Philip declared himself ready to 
 leave, though much to his discomfiture he 
 discovered that Sir Alexander was going to 
 accompany them. He formed a resolution of 
 not being again inveigled into their gambling, 
 even though he should be as urgently pressed 
 as on the former lamentable occasion. 
 
 It was too late that night for them to 
 indulge in any mischief, and they parted at 
 Philip's hotel, Sir Alexander promising to 
 look them up in the course of the day. 
 
 As he unfortunately kept his promise, there 
 was no escape for Arthur. Their impor- 
 tunities overcame him, and he was obliged to 
 accompany them. 
 
 '' But mind," he said, ^^ I will not play." 
 
 " We won't even ask you to do so," said 
 Philip. 
 
 So he went, merely to look on. What 
 harm could there be in that ? None at all. 
 One has only to stand by and watch. True, 
 you become a little excited, especially when
 
 126 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 your friends win, but that is of no con- 
 sequence. You look on with more intense 
 interest than ever, and you think, " What if 
 such luck were mine ? " You hesitate, you 
 turn hot and cold, your money seems to burn 
 in your pocket, you draw it forth, you lay it 
 down, and you are in the thick of the fight. 
 
 Thus it was with Arthur. He looked on 
 with ever-growing interest, and when Philip 
 turned round and said to him : '^ You might 
 be as successful as I am if you only had 
 the pluck," he hesitated no longer, and boldly 
 staked all he had with him. He lost, and 
 was about to reproach Philip for his bad 
 advice, when the latter said — 
 
 " I will lend you a few guineas to retrieve 
 your losses." 
 
 Arthur accepted the offer, and began play- 
 ing wildly. He won largely, and in high 
 spirits proceeded to stake his winnings in the 
 hope of reaping a rich harvest. But the tide 
 of fortune then turned, and he lost everything. 
 Philip once more came to his assistance, and 
 he was so excited that he could not tear him- 
 self away, but eagerly seized the loan, and
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 127 
 
 lost again. Philip renewed the loan, but it 
 was of no use, fortune was inexorably un- 
 kind, and at last Arthur rose from the table 
 fifty guineas in Philip's debt. 
 
 He was sobered by this disaster, and 
 seemed to awake from the dream of folly in 
 which he had indulged. But the harm was 
 done, and the misfortune irretrievable. Philip 
 made light of it, and assured him that next 
 time he would be luckier. He returned to 
 Dullroad Buildings with even acuter stings of 
 conscience than on the former occasion, and 
 as a memento of his imprudence he found his 
 poverty burthened with a debt to the heir of 
 countless thousands.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Number Four of that cheerful line of 
 desirable mansions, Dullroad Buildings, was 
 occupied by Miss Clarke, an elderly lady of 
 independent means, who had resided there for 
 some years with her niece. Miss Arabella 
 Clarke, who, we may be sure, was far from 
 attached to her abode. Miss Clarke was a 
 selfish, cross. Illiberal woman, who had 
 quarrelled with nearly all her friends and 
 acquaintances, and had retired to the con- 
 genial gloom of Dullroad Buildings with the 
 firm resolution of never emerging from It 
 during the remainder of her natural life. Miss 
 Arabella, aged about twenty-three, had a cer- 
 tain amount of good looks that were in
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 129 
 
 imminent danger of fading prematurely by 
 reason of the monotonous, depressing life she 
 was leading. Regular features, fair hair, a 
 pale complexion, likely to become sallow, and 
 a good figure formed her appearance, in 
 which, if there was nothing to repel, there was 
 little to attract. Her eyes were small, but 
 well-shaped and dark, quick of vision, and not 
 unpleasant in expression. She was the only 
 child of Miss Clarke's youngest brother, who 
 died when she was about sixteen, and her 
 mother did not long survive him. Miss Clarke, 
 in an unwonted moment of softness, wrote her 
 niece the following letter on hearing of her 
 double bereavement : — 
 
 '' My Dear Niece, 
 
 *' You have never heard from me before, 
 because there were unfortunate differences 
 between your poor father and myself. I am 
 willing to let bygones be bygones, and to offer 
 you the home of which you stand in need. I 
 hope to make you happy, but you must expect 
 neither absurd luxury nor frivolous amuse- 
 ment. My house is very orderly, and I shall 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 require you to conform to that order. Send 
 a reply by return of post to your affectionate 
 aunt, 
 
 '' Lydia Clarke." 
 
 This was, for Miss Clarke, a most cordial 
 invitation. Arabella had no other choice but 
 to accept it. She had formed hopes of being 
 adopted by a relative of her mother, a rich 
 woman who had no children ; but as she re- 
 ceived from that quarter nothing but vague 
 messages of condolence, she reluctantly took 
 refuge with her Aunt Lydia. Without means 
 she could not consult her tastes, but had to 
 bend to necessity. What were her tastes ? 
 They may be summed up in one word : 
 ^' Fashion." Her mother had mixed with the 
 great world before her rash marriage with 
 Frederick Clarke ; but as he had no money, 
 and she very little, their circle gradually 
 became narrower, until at last all that re- 
 mained to Mrs. Clarke was to dwell in 
 memory on the pleasures of the past. During 
 her frequent illnesses, when she was confined 
 to her bed or sofa, her solitary pastime was to
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE .? ] 31 
 
 read the fashionable Intelligence In the papers, 
 and to dilate upon it to her daughter, who re- 
 ceived her mother's stories about countesses 
 and duchesses with eager soul. 
 
 It may be conceived how well this prepara- 
 tion fitted her for Miss Clarke's melancholy 
 house. At first the poor girl thought she 
 could not endure the dreariness of such an 
 existence another day, but fortunately she 
 discovered a blessed consolation. She had a 
 fine pair of diamond earrings that had be- 
 longed to her mother, and before going to bed 
 she would put them on, make them sparkle in 
 the candle-light, and look at herself for an 
 hour In the glass. Then her imagination 
 would take wing, flying away from her joyless 
 abode to scenes of luxury and splendour, such 
 as her mother used to describe. She pic- 
 tured to her mind's eye a vision of herself 
 being presented at Court ; and, by a natural 
 transition, her fancy would then revel in all the 
 delights of a London season — the balls, 
 parties, operas, and entertainments that 
 figured so prominently in her mother's narra- 
 tions. Without these nocturnal glimpses of
 
 132 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 Fairyland we may doubt whether she could 
 have borne the heaviness of her lot, for even 
 with them it was intolerably irksome. When 
 Miss Clarke was not scolding she was taci- 
 turn, and she strongly disliked being ad- 
 dressed, so that frequently they were hours 
 together in the same room without talking. 
 Miss Clarke was always engaged on some 
 piece of embroidery, and Arabella used to 
 wonder on what her thoughts were running 
 while her fingers were thus occupied. She 
 little guessed that Miss Clarke was con- 
 stantly drawing up new wills and destroying 
 old ones, and that almost every time she went 
 out alone she visited her solicitor to consult 
 him on the subject. She made on an average 
 four wills a year, one in each season, some- 
 times in favour of Arabella, sometimes leaving 
 her out altogether. 
 
 This life had lasted seven years without 
 change or interruption, except for an occa- 
 sional stay at the seaside in the summer, and 
 with few visits from the outer world. Miss 
 Clarke's acquaintances were mostly in her 
 own style — by no means to Arabella's liking
 
 CAN IT BE TRUEl 133 
 
 — and none of them were intimate with her 
 or with her aunt. 
 
 How great, therefore, was Arabella's amaze- 
 ment to see one day a carriage drive up, and 
 a lady alight, who was her very idea of fashion 
 and distinguished appearance ! She was ac- 
 companied by a younger lady no less attrac- 
 tive. 
 
 " My dear Miss Clarke, what pleasure it 
 gives me to see you again after so many 
 years ! Mrs. Silversnake told me you were 
 residing here. I had no idea of it. I 
 thought you were in Wales. I could not 
 deny myself the pleasure of coming to visit 
 you. Now you must tell me how you have 
 been, and why you never let me hear from 
 you." 
 
 " You are very kind. Lady Marshfield," 
 said Miss Clarke, coldly. " I have long 
 ceased to go into the world, and I do not 
 wish to return to it. My health is not what 
 it was, and the doctor has ordered me to 
 keep very quiet." 
 
 *' Most excellent advice. It has been given 
 to me times without number, but I plead guilty
 
 134 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 to being too restless to follow it. I wish I 
 had your firmness and self-denial. But you 
 know my weaknesses of old. How glad I am 
 to see you again ! I am sure if you had not 
 told me that your health was impaired, I 
 should never have thought it from your 
 looks." 
 
 Here Lady Marshfield appealed to Arabella 
 to confirm her opinion, which the latter did, 
 though, perhaps, not with perfect sincerity ; 
 but she was ready to say anything that would 
 put her aunt in good humour. 
 
 Lady Marshfield introduced her '' dear 
 friend," Miss Wentworth, to the old lady, 
 and the girl's genial manners contrived to 
 break the ice. 
 
 The reader will probably have guessed why 
 Lady Marshfield so unexpectedly looked up 
 her former acquaintance. It was perfectly 
 true that Mrs. Silversnake had mentioned 
 Miss Clarke's present abode ; but it was no 
 less true that Lady Marshfield had known it 
 all along without forming the slightest inten- 
 tion of renewing this intimacy. But when 
 she discovered Philip Beverley's Richmond
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 135 
 
 address, and saw that it was next door to 
 Miss Clarke's, she was seized with a sudden 
 revival of affection for that lady, and deter- 
 mined to visit her, accompanied by Flora, 
 who was now her almost inseparable com- 
 panion. She trusted to chance that they 
 might meet Philip somewhere in the neigh- 
 bourhood. And so it happened that we see 
 her displaying her fascinations in Miss 
 Clarke's drawings-room. 
 
 '^ This reminds me quite of old times. 
 You and your dear niece must come and 
 dine with us on the earliest possible occa- 
 sion." 
 
 Arabella could scarcely contain herself for 
 joy on hearing this welcome invitation. Her 
 only fear was lest her aunt should decline it. 
 She did so, indeed, for herself ; but Lady 
 Marshfield urged her so forcibly to let her 
 niece come that she yielded. The prospect 
 would have been delightful for Arabella even 
 in company with her aunt ; but to enjoy un- 
 restrained liberty for half a day exceeded the 
 realization of her utmost hope. 
 
 The visitors left soon after the date of the
 
 136 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 invitation was fixed, and so well-timed was 
 Lady Marshfield's departure that as they 
 were driving off she perceived Philip and 
 Arthur returning from a stroll. 
 
 '' Oh, Mr. Beverley ! " she exclaimed, '' only 
 fancy ! I have just discovered that one of my 
 oldest friends lives next door to you, and we 
 shall be calling there very often/' (This 
 with significance.) "Is it not delightful ? 
 Flora, do you not think it is delightful ? " 
 
 Flora being thus drawn into the conversa- 
 tion. Lady Marshfield turned her attention to 
 Challoner. He looked troubled and worried, 
 but seemed to revive at the sight of Flora, and 
 possibly also at Lady Marshfield's pleasant 
 speeches. 
 
 After prolonging the conversation as long 
 as she could. Lady Marshfield bade them 
 good-bye, highly pleased with the success of 
 her visit, and determining to repeat it very 
 often in the hope of bringing about similar 
 interviews In future. 
 
 PhiHp asked Arthur if he did not consider 
 Miss Wentworth very charming. Arthur 
 warmly assenting, he continued —
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 137 
 
 " Why do you not make up to her more? 
 It would be a fine opening for you. She has 
 plenty of money, and a good-looking man 
 like you might easily make her fall in love." 
 
 Arthur smiled, but was not inclined to 
 pursue the topic. He had been much upset 
 by news received that morning to the effect 
 that the Chancery suit was in extreme com- 
 plication, and that the prospect of his receiv- 
 ing his share was remote. 
 
 This was, indeed, intensely trying. But 
 further reflections were harrowing him. He 
 was far from pleased with the progress he 
 was makino^ in his studies. Smilie was a 
 most incompetent tutor, and Arthur was 
 determined to speak seriously to Mr. Berner 
 on the subject. This was an unpleasant task, 
 as he could not bear to express displeasure 
 or to have to find fault with anybody. 
 
 We may, therefore, suppose that he was 
 unwilling to have the sore point of his affec- 
 tion for Flora touched by the ungentle hand 
 •of Philip. He could perceive that she was 
 more attracted by his friend than by himself ; 
 and even if she had not been so he would
 
 138 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 have been loth, considering his uncertain 
 prospects, to make an offer that might be 
 open to the misinterpretation of interested 
 motives. 
 
 Altogether his ruminations were far from 
 joyous as he walked with Philip that autumn 
 afternoon. 
 
 When they returned home, Mr. Berner 
 informed Arthur that a gentleman had called, 
 and wished to see him on urgent business, 
 and that he had been waiting for upwards of 
 half-an-hour. A feeling came over Arthur 
 as if ill news were in store for him, and with 
 palpitating heart he entered the room where 
 the stranger was expecting him. A tall, 
 thin man, with a solemn face, rose as he en- 
 tered. 
 
 " I come," he said, '' from Mr. Smith, your 
 solicitor." 
 
 ''Any new difficulty," asked Arthur, 
 anxiously, ''about the Chancery affair? " 
 
 " Well, not exactly," said the stranger. 
 
 Here he paused. 
 
 " Please proceed," said Arthur. " This 
 suspense is trying. I have waited so long.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 13^ 
 
 for the settlement of this busuiess that I am 
 prepared for the worst." 
 
 *' It is not about the Chancery suit that I 
 am calling," said the other. 
 
 •' Not ! " exclaimed Arthur. '' What on 
 earth can it be ? " 
 
 *' Mr. Smith bade me give you his compli- 
 ments, and say that any advice or assistance 
 he can offer he will be most happy to place 
 at your disposal." 
 
 " He is very kind," said Arthur ; '* but I 
 am still in the dark as to what has occurred, 
 and what you have to communicate." 
 
 '^ I must beg and pray of you," said the 
 other, " not to allow yourself to be too much 
 agitated by what I have to say." 
 
 'Ms it so great a misfortune?" asked 
 Arthur, in an agony of suspense. 
 
 " Far from it, my dear sir, far from it. But 
 Mr. Smith would be so disconsolate if you 
 were at all upset by my visit that he 
 repeatedly urged me to break the news 
 gradually. He is particularly considerate to 
 his clients when anything unusual has to be 
 imparted to them. You do not know how he
 
 140 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 would blame me if I were to divulge the 
 object of my visit in an imprudent manner." 
 
 '^ I beg and beseech of you," said Arthur, 
 in a state bordering on frenzy, "to come to 
 the point. These preliminary hints are most 
 harrowing." 
 
 '' A few moments' patience, my dear sir, and 
 we shall have the whole affair develop itself 
 most perspicuously." 
 
 Arthur sighed, but tried to control his feel- 
 ings. 
 
 "Mr. Smith," the other continued, "told 
 me to be sure to offer you his sincerest con- 
 _gratulatIons." 
 
 "Congratulations!" exclaimed Arthur. 
 ■^' Then you are the bearer of good news ?" 
 
 *' Of very good news." 
 
 Arthur's relief was beyond expression. 
 
 " You can scarcely conceive, Mr. Chal- 
 loner, the delight it affords Mr. Smith to be 
 the happy channel through which prosperity 
 flows to his clients." 
 
 " I am sure of it," said Arthur, politely. 
 " But please proceed." 
 
 " If you only knew him more intimately
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 141 
 
 you would be struck by his extremely kind 
 and philanthropic disposition ; and you would 
 then be able to measure the extent of his 
 satisfaction in informing you that you have 
 come into a legacy." 
 
 '* Oh, then the Chancery suit is decided ! " 
 exclaimed Arthur. 
 
 "Pardon me; I have had the pleasure of 
 stating to you that my present message is 
 totally distinct from Chancery ; in fact, it has 
 nothing to do with it." 
 
 Arthur thought this really good news. 
 
 '' Mr. Smith has had the pleasure of 
 receiving a communication to the effect that 
 a distant connection of yours died recently in 
 California. Having no family and no near 
 relatives, he left half of his fortune in various 
 legacies, and the other half to you abso- 
 lutely." 
 
 Arthur was rendered speechless for some 
 moments by this unexpected intelligence, and 
 when he regained the power of speech he 
 said — 
 
 '' I remember having heard of my Cali- 
 fornian relative when I was quite a boy.
 
 142 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 Was not his name Augustus Townley 
 Challoner?" 
 
 '' It was the very man." 
 
 " This is singular indeed. I had never 
 heard from him, and I imagined he had 
 totally forgotten me. Is the amount of the 
 legacy considerable ? " 
 
 ''My dear sir, this is the point where Mr. 
 Smith told me to be particularly cautious. 
 He would be so deeply grieved if your nerves 
 were at all tried by the change of fortune." 
 
 " Is the amount so great ? " asked Arthur, 
 turning pale. 
 
 *' Pray compose yourself. I can assure 
 you it is no contemptible sum." 
 
 '' How much is it?" he asked, 
 
 " Supposing you were to guess," said the 
 other, with a smile. 
 
 '' That is almost impossible for me to do," 
 replied Arthur. " I might be wide of the 
 mark. Large fortunes are, or used to be, 
 made in California ; but I never heard that 
 Mr. Townley Challoner was particularly rich. 
 Is it about five thousand pounds ? " 
 
 " Ohj that would be nothing ! "
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? U3 
 
 ''Nothing!" echoed Arthur. ''It would 
 set me up for life." 
 
 The visitor smiled at his idea of the ex- 
 tent to which such a sum would go. 
 
 " It is more." 
 
 " More ! " exclaimed Arthur. " Can it be 
 twenty thousand pounds ? " 
 
 " More still." 
 
 " More even than that ! Can it be fifty 
 thousand ? " 
 
 " Indeed, it is far more." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " exclaimed Arthur. 
 " You do not mean to say that it could 
 amount to twice that sum ? " 
 
 " It even exceeds it considerably." 
 
 "My thoughts," said Arthur, "do not 
 reach beyond one hundred thousand." 
 
 " I think I am safe in saying," said the 
 visitor, " that the total sum will be, even when 
 all expenses are paid, somewhat over five 
 hundred thousand pounds." 
 
 Arthur rested his forehead in his hand, 
 giddy and overcome with excitement and 
 -amazement. 
 
 A pause ensued, after which he said —
 
 144 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 '' What on earth am I to do with this 
 prodigious wealth ? " 
 
 '' Oh, it is not so very much after all," said 
 the stranger, soothingly. '' It will only give 
 you about twenty thousand a year, and that is 
 soon spent. You will not find it at all too 
 much, I can assure you. There are so many 
 ways of enjoying one's self, and every enjoy- 
 ment is so expensive." 
 
 As it seemed rather a relief to Arthur to 
 hear that his money would not go far, Mr. 
 Field — such was the visitor's name — dilated 
 on the interesting topic. 
 
 " You must provide yourself with a town 
 house, which must be sumptuously furnished ; 
 your stables must be full of the handsomest 
 horses ; you must have a country seat, a 
 shooting-box, and, if you like, a yacht. These 
 things are sufficient to strain the most ample 
 resources ; and if you marry and have a 
 family, you will find that your income is not 
 one farthing in excess of your wants." 
 
 Mr. Field looked at Arthur's position from 
 this point of view so successfully that he 
 almost persuaded himself, if not our hero,
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? U5 
 
 that twenty thousand a year was barely 
 enough for the necessaries of life. 
 
 "The first thinof vou have to do/' he said, 
 *' is to enjoy yourself." 
 
 '' I beg your pardon/' Arthur retorted, ''the 
 first thino; I have to do is to go into mourninof 
 for my relative." 
 
 This was a novel idea to ]\Ir, Field. 
 
 ''True," he said, "but he was such a 
 distant connection that deep mourning will 
 not be necessary." 
 
 " I know perfectly," said Arthur, '' what my 
 present position requires." 
 
 We perceive that he is already beginning 
 to feel the dignity accruing from his for- 
 tune. 
 
 The complaisant 'Mr. Field immediately 
 saw the propriety of Arthur's remark. 
 
 " I admire," he said, " the delicacy of your 
 feelings. Nothing could be more fitting 
 or becoming than the sentiments vou dis- 
 
 play." 
 
 Arthur inquired whether there were many 
 details of business to settle. 
 
 " Oh, no/' said Mr. Field. " The late 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 lamented gentleman left his affairs in such 
 excellent order that a few formalities will be 
 sufficient. You are not appointed executor, 
 so you will have no trouble in that respect. 
 Nearly the entire sum to which you are 
 entitled has been standing for years in the 
 testator's name in a London bank. It has 
 only to be transferred to your name, and 
 that will soon be done. There may be 
 a trifling delay of a few weeks before you 
 can draw on your account, but Mr. Smith 
 begged me to say that he will be most 
 happy to advance any sum you may re- 
 quire." 
 
 Arthur thanked him for this obliging offer, 
 and Mr. Field proceeded to read some docu- 
 ments and business papers, the details of 
 which we need not inflict upon the reader. 
 Arthur listened with rapt attention, and 
 promised to call on his solicitor the next 
 day. 
 
 • '' Mr. Smith desired me to tell you," said 
 Mr. Field, '' that if it at all puts you out to 
 come up to town he will be more than de- 
 lighted to come and see you here."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 147 
 
 ''He is truly kind," said Arthur, ''but I 
 should like the change.'^ 
 
 " Most advisable," assented the other. 
 " And, if I may venture to offer my advice, I 
 should now strongly recommend a walk of 
 twenty minutes or half-an-hour to compose 
 your mind and nerves after receiving such 
 weighty tidings." 
 
 This was the first time in Arthur's life 
 that anybody had ever considered his 
 nerves. The novelty of the circumstance 
 amused him, but he took the suggestion, 
 and asked Mr. Field if he would like to 
 come part of the way with him. The latter 
 was, of course, overcome with joy at the 
 honour. 
 
 " Did you mention the news to anyone at 
 Mr. Berner's?" Arthur inquired, after they 
 had left the house. 
 
 " No, I did not. I was not sure whether it 
 would be quite agreeable to you." 
 
 Arthur had received more consideration 
 and deference in the last hour than in the 
 whole course of his previous life. The sen- 
 sation was new and delicious, and he bade a
 
 148 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 most courteous farewell to Mr. Field when 
 they parted. 
 
 He walked along with heart and mind over- 
 flowing, and with a wild chaos of thoughts 
 and emotions pursuing each other. 
 
 He determined on going to see O'Brien 
 and to impart to him the tidings of his good 
 fortune. He did so, and, not only that, but 
 he told O'Brien that he must always look 
 upon him as his best friend, and that he 
 would ever find him ready to come to his 
 assistance should he require it. 
 
 O'Brien was more astonished and delighted 
 than words can express at his friend's bril- 
 Hant good fortune. Without the slightest 
 particle of envy in his nature he could take 
 the heartiest pleasure in the prosperity of 
 others. 
 
 Arthur returned home, engaged in wonder- 
 ing consideration at the change in his pros- 
 pects. A few hours before how dreary did 
 his future appear ! And now, how joyous 
 and enchanting ! His spirits, however, were 
 less elated than might be supposed. For so 
 many years had he suffered adversity that
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE f 149 
 
 his thoughts were more prone to wander in 
 gloom than to revel in joy. 
 
 When he returned to the house he retired 
 to his room, where he remained over an hour, 
 until he was roused by the maid coming up 
 to say that Mr. Berner wished to speak to 
 him.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 During their walk that afternoon Arthur 
 confided to Philip his dissatisfaction with 
 Smilie. On returning home, Philip repeated 
 Arthur's observations to Mr. Berner, not with 
 the intention of making mischief, but merely- 
 stating them as a fact. Mrs. Berner had 
 been urging on her husband the advisability 
 of giving Arthur notice to quit, as they had 
 received two further offers of pupils who were 
 willing to pay the full amount demanded. 
 If Arthur remained, they had only accommo- 
 dation for one ; it was therefore to their 
 interest to make him decamp. Mr. Berner 
 gladly seized the pretext of the complaint 
 about Smilie to give Arthur to understand
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 151 
 
 that they wished him to leave. Like most 
 weak men, he required spurring before he 
 could summon spirit to make an attack, but 
 once fairly on his way he could be quarrel- 
 some and disagreeable. When he sent the 
 message to ask Arthur down, he was preparing 
 himself for the fiorht, and his whole nervous 
 system was in a flurry, although his wife was 
 present to give him support if necessary. He 
 wanted her to undertake the distasteful task, 
 but this she declined to do. She always 
 desired him to stand to the fore, and, though 
 he would not do so of his own accord, he 
 generally, after some hesitation, carried out 
 her instructions, if not with energy, at least 
 with fidelity. But the effort involved in so 
 doing made him snappish and irritable. 
 
 On Arthur entering the room, he began 
 with the courage of desperation — 
 
 "I am surprised, Mr. Challoner; I am 
 really very surprised." 
 
 '' At what, pray ? " asked Arthur. 
 
 " At the very unexpected information I 
 have received — " 
 
 Arthur thought Mr. Berner had heard the
 
 152 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 intelligence of his accession to fortune, and 
 so he replied — 
 
 ^' I am sure no one was more surprised than 
 myself.'* 
 
 " What do you mean? " said Mr. Berner, 
 with rising colour. 
 
 " I mean to say that I was never more 
 astonished in all my Hfe." 
 
 *' I was told, on the contrary, by Mr. Bever- 
 ley, that you said you never expected much 
 from that man." 
 
 '* I had not," said Arthur, " mentioned the 
 subject as yet to Mr. Beverley." 
 
 ^' Not mentioned the subject to Mr. Bever- 
 ley," exclaimed Mr. Berner, '' when he 
 himself has just repeated to me your un- 
 warrantable observations ? " 
 
 Here he rang the bell violently. Arthur 
 was about to speak, but the other stopped 
 him, saying — 
 
 *' Please not to say anything until Mr. 
 Beverley appears to corroborate my words." 
 
 The maid entered, and he told her to ask 
 Mr. Beverley to come down at once. 
 
 '^ \ am amazed," he continued, ^'at the
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 155 
 
 whole affair. I — I consider that it puts me 
 in a most painful position, especially as you 
 choose the extraordinary course of denying 
 what you said." 
 
 *' There must be a mistake," said Arthur, 
 quite at a loss to account for his demeanour. 
 
 *' There is no mistake. You cast a slur 
 upon me, and the whole affair reflects dis- 
 credit upon yourself." 
 
 '' Mr. Berner, I beg you will moderate your 
 language," said Arthur, indignantly. 
 
 '' Here is Mr. Beverley," said Mr. Berner, 
 as Philip entered. '' Will you still maintain 
 in his presence that you never mentioned the 
 subject to him ? " 
 
 '' Never," Arthur declared, '' on my word." 
 
 '' Now, Mr. Beverley, what do you say to 
 that unheard-of asseveration ? What do you 
 think of it? Is it not an impudent lie, when 
 you yourself told me that he did nothing but 
 complain of Mr. Smilie all the time you 
 were out together ? His conduct is unjusti- 
 fiable." 
 
 " Your language is unjustifiable," said 
 Arthur, hotly. '* But I perceive there is a
 
 154 CAN IT BE TR UE 7 
 
 mistake. I did not think you were alluding 
 to Mr. Smilie." 
 
 '' And to what else should I allude ? " 
 
 " Allow me to explain," said Arthur, with 
 as much self-control as he could preserve. 
 
 '^ No, I will hear no explanation. I might, 
 perhaps, receive an apology, but I decline to 
 hsten to any justification of your conduct. 
 It is not what I expected from you. Mr. 
 Smilie is a man who has had the highest 
 Academical honours, and to say that he is 
 incompetent is to cast blame, not only on 
 myself for employing him, but on those 
 eminent people by whom he is so cordially 
 recommended." 
 
 '' I only said what I really think," said 
 Arthur. 
 
 '' I must decline to enter into an argument. 
 I beg you will consider yourself at liberty to 
 leave this house as soon as it suits your con- 
 venience. You need not hold yourself bound 
 to stay until the term is over." 
 
 ^' You are really far too hasty, Mr. Berner," 
 said Philip, who was much taken aback at the 
 scene.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 155 
 
 ^' No, I am not. I have — I have my own 
 feelings on the subject. I do not like it to be 
 said that — that — In short the whole affair is 
 to me most intensely unpleasant." 
 
 " So it is to me," said Arthur. 
 
 *' I am glad to hear that you have that 
 much sense of the becoming left," said Mr. 
 Berner. *' I consider that as you pay so 
 much less than the others, it ill befits you to 
 carp at the arrangements in my house, whether 
 with respect to tuition or to anything else. 
 It was only to oblige Dr. Grimmersby that I 
 took you in. We shall want your room for a 
 young gentleman whom we are expecting. 
 We are forced to look to our own interests, 
 and we cannot afford to throw away an oppor- 
 tunity such as is now presented. I should 
 not wish to inconvenience you, but you must 
 remember you were only admitted as a 
 favour." 
 
 Arthur had determined not to mortify him 
 by stating the change of fortune he had 
 experienced that day ; but this last sting 
 roused his feelings to such an extent that 
 he could not deny himself the gratification
 
 156 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 of causing the Berners to repent of their in- 
 civiHty. 
 
 ''As to inconveniencing me," he began,. 
 " you may be quite at rest on that score. I 
 shall make way for your young gentleman 
 long before he comes. I hope he may 
 progress rapidly under Mr. Smilie, and that 
 he may be treated with all the respect his 
 solvency deserves." 
 
 " I decHne to be spoken to in this way," 
 said Mr. Berner, walking up and down the 
 room in great agitation. " I beg you will be 
 silent." 
 
 *' After listening patiently to your polite 
 speeches," said Arthur, " I insist on being 
 heard in my turn. When I entered the room 
 I never dreamt you were alluding to my 
 remarks on Mr. Smilie. Under this mistake, 
 I made the statement which you described in 
 Mr. Beverley's presence as an ' impudent lie.* 
 I shall now explain what I was thinking of, 
 and if you do not retract that expression, I 
 shall leave your house this very evening." 
 
 Mr. Berner's face assumed a bewildered, 
 frightened expression. He had quite lost his
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 157 
 
 presence of mind, and now he could not for 
 the Hfe of him remember the words he had 
 used. From the firmness of Arthur's tone 
 and manner he derived a vague sense of 
 having gone too far. 
 
 '' There are no men," Arthur continued, 
 *' worthy of the name, who would submit 
 tamely to such language. When you began 
 speaking to me about unexpected information, 
 I naturally thought you were referring to the 
 news that Mr. Field brought me. As such 
 was not the case, and as we were both think- 
 ing of different subjects, I beg you will 
 perceive your error, and retract the expres- 
 sion used." 
 
 " I am sure," stammered Mr. Berner, '' that 
 if — that nothing — had I considered — I am 
 sometimes rather hasty — I was far from im- 
 plying any doubt of your veracity. I do not 
 wish you to be at any inconvenience, or to 
 leave before it suits you." 
 
 '* It would suit me to leave any moment," 
 said Arthur. '' Mr. Field came to inform me 
 that a distant relation of mine died lately 
 in Cahfornia and did me the great kind-
 
 158 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 ness of bequeathing me half of his large for- 
 tune." 
 
 Mr. Berner's eyes became round with 
 amazement ; Philip thought Arthur was 
 hoaxing them ; Mrs. Berner, who was seated 
 at work in a far corner of the room, turned 
 very red, and a pause ensued. 
 
 '^ I shall be obliged to go up to town on 
 business/' Arthur continued, *' and it will 
 probably be necessary for me to stay there 
 for the present. In any case, it would be 
 advisable for my residence in this house 
 to come to an end to-morrow morning." 
 
 With these words he left the room. 
 
 The unutterable mortification of the 
 Berners was written on their features, and 
 Philip being witness of their discomfiture 
 formed no slight aggravation of their misery. 
 With his usual malignant pleasure at the 
 distress of others, he began to taunt them 
 under the guise of sympathy. 
 
 " How trying the reflection must be for 
 you, Mr. Berner, that you have offended him 
 just as he has had such a windfall ! But let 
 us hope for the best. Let us trust that it is
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 15^ 
 
 not so great a fortune after all, or that he has 
 concocted the story to avenge himself for 
 your observations, which, I must confess, he 
 bore more patiently than I should have done. 
 If a fellow were to say one-half to me of what 
 you said to him, I should knock him down 
 for his impudence ! " 
 
 Mr. Berner looked furious, but, not having 
 the cue from his wife to quarrel with Philip, 
 he held his peace. 
 
 " I will just inquire of him," Philip con- 
 tinued, *' all the particulars of the affair; and 
 perhaps I may be able to bring you the 
 delightful tidings that he invented the story 
 to annoy you." 
 
 When they were alone, husband and wife 
 looked blankly at each other. 
 
 " That's what comes of following your 
 advice, Charlotte." 
 
 " Nonsense, Frederick ; I never advised 
 you to use the language you did." 
 
 *' Who would have thought that Challoner, 
 of all people, would be likely to come 
 into a fortune ! " exclaimed Mr. Berner in 
 despair.
 
 1 60 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 '' It is most unfortunate," she owned, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 '' Could I but have seen into the future ! " 
 he said, wringing his hands, and gazing wildly 
 upwards at the chandelier. *' Had I but 
 waited until he had spoken ! Why, why was 
 I led into such a fatal mistake? '* 
 
 *' It was done for the best," she declared. 
 
 *' But it turned out for the worst," he re- 
 plied. '' Never, never will I take your advice 
 again ! " 
 
 " Frederick, how can you be so un- 
 grateful ? " she cried. ''Have I not been 
 your prop and staff for fifteen years ? Was 
 it not I who brought the young men into the 
 house ? " 
 
 '' But you are driving them out again," he 
 roared, in a real passion. 
 
 She burst into tears. 
 
 '' You are too cruel," she sobbed, '' after 
 all I have done ! After working and striving 
 and thinking, and doing, I repeat it, every- 
 thing for the best." 
 
 Their dull drawing-room had assuredly 
 never witnessed such exciting scenes as on
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 161 
 
 that day. They could not bear their mis- 
 fortune in common, but fell to quarrelling as 
 to who was the originator of the mischief. 
 
 While they were thus engaged, Philip was 
 sounding Arthur on the subject of his in- 
 heritance. He had a lurking idea that the 
 story was invented for the edification of the 
 Berners, but it was quickly dispelled. Philip 
 was himself the heir to such a huge fortune 
 that he could look on Arthur's luck without 
 envy, and could congratulate him sincerely. 
 Arthur told him that he had no intention of 
 departing that evening, but his mind was 
 quite made up to leave next day, and never 
 to return to Dullroad Buildings. 
 
 That evening, before dinner, Philip again 
 attacked the Berners on this sore subject. 
 
 ''Well!" he exclaimed, '' Challoner has 
 come into an immense fortune ! No less than 
 twenty thousand a year ! I sincerely hoped, 
 for your sakes, that it was only a few 
 hundreds." 
 
 Mr. Berner had nothing to reply, but his 
 wife said with some dignity — 
 
 " You are completely mistaken if you sup- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 pose that we do not rejoice in Mr. Challoner's 
 prosperity." 
 
 Philip had informed Ruddles, and Ann, and 
 the cook of the wonderful event, and they 
 were all the evening thinking and talking of 
 nothing else. At dinner. Ruddles could not 
 take his eyes off Arthur, as if he wished to 
 see what a person looked like who had come 
 into an unexpected inheritance. As for 
 Ann, her empressement to attend to Arthur 
 was prodigious, and her attentions set off 
 more fully Mr. Berner's silence and reserve. 
 He never addressed Arthur, who, indeed, did 
 not so much as look at him the whole even- 
 incr. With Mrs. Berner he conversed as if no 
 difference had arisen between them, notwith- 
 standing his conviction that she had prompted 
 her husband. 
 
 Arthur retired early, but not to rest. His 
 mind was too excited to be lulled in slumber. 
 So great was the change in his destiny that 
 he could scarcely realize its extent. As the 
 hours of darkness advanced in sable proces- 
 sion, he recalled the past and anticipated the 
 future ; and the strong contrast they pre-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 163 
 
 sented enhanced the strangeness of his feel- 
 ings. He was no longer destined to endure 
 the neglect, unkindness, insolence, oppression, 
 and solitude whereby his life had hitherto 
 been obscured. He was now a man of im- 
 portance, weight, and position ; and what had 
 produced this wonderful transformation ? 
 About himself everything was the same. He 
 was a gentleman by birth, education, and 
 character, no alteration had taken place in 
 his nature. But these advantages, formerly 
 overlooked, would now be regarded as worthy 
 of the highest eulogy, and he would be 
 courted, flattered, and caressed. How was 
 such a magic change to be accounted for? 
 Merely by the accident of his coming into 
 large possessions. Far from being elated 
 by these considerations, he reflected, with 
 some contempt for the world, that had the 
 least worthy of mortals been in his position 
 the homage would be the same. 
 
 However, not for very long did his thoughts 
 pursue this reflective course. He soon began 
 to think how he should employ his fortune, 
 what property he should buy, what company
 
 164 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 he should keep, what pleasures he should 
 procure. The delightful knowledge that he 
 could now consult his tastes without let or 
 hindrance filled his imagination with a world 
 of varied visions, and occupied his cogitations 
 until he fell asleep towards morning. 
 
 It was broad daylight when he awoke, and 
 his first sensation was that something unusual 
 had happened ; he knew not what, for the 
 clouds of sleep were still hanging over his 
 memory. At last, the events of yesterday all 
 rushed back upon him, though at first he had 
 a feeling of terror as though his felicity might 
 merely be a dream of the night. But the 
 sight of his things lying about the room, 
 waiting to be packed, recalled the altercation 
 with Mr. Berner, the visit of Mr. Field, and 
 with them the reality of his marvellous 
 prosperity. 
 
 He made haste in his preparations for 
 departure, as the morning was more advanced 
 than he had supposed. 
 
 The maid came up to ask if he would like 
 his breakfast in his room, but he sent word 
 that he would come down. As he had never
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 165 
 
 before received such a message, he concluded 
 the Berners wished to avoid him as much as 
 possible on the last day, and he determined 
 not to give them that satisfaction. 
 
 When he made his appearance, Mrs. Berner 
 informed him that her husband greatly re- 
 gretted his prevention by indisposition from 
 bidding him good-bye in person. Arthur 
 made a frigid reply, and the subject dropped. 
 He was glad he had driven his adversary out 
 of the field, but was too civil to allow this 
 feeling to appear. Mrs. Berner had done 
 her best to press upon her husband the 
 necessity of facing Arthur boldly, but his 
 mortification and anger were so great that he 
 obstinately refused to emerge from his re- 
 treat. 
 
 Ruddles was unfeignedly sorry that Arthur 
 was leaving, but the latter consoled him by 
 promising to invite him later on, when he 
 should be settled in his new abode, wherever 
 that might be. Philip felt similar regret, 
 though it was more selfish than the boy's. 
 
 '' I'll be hanged," he said, '' if I stay much 
 longer in this house. Now that you are going,
 
 166 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 what shall I do ? It is enough to drive a 
 fellow mad. You were the only being who 
 kept me from utter dulness. I have only 
 Ruddles to fall back upon, and we know 
 what he is. O'Brien is good company, but 
 he is always immersed in his studies. Gall- 
 ford would have afforded me vast fun, but he 
 is now out of the question. What the deuce 
 am I to do ? Wait a few days, and you 
 shall hear news about me. I will become 
 such a devil that the Berners will be thankful 
 to get me out of the house. Mark my words 
 that I will. The governor, too, will have to 
 give in to me, whether he likes it or not. 
 When once I make up my mind I am as 
 resolute as the whole world put together ! " 
 
 He looked as if he meant what he said, and 
 the expression of his face was, for the moment,, 
 absolutely savage. But he soon smoothed 
 his features to their usual haughty expression, 
 and the episode did not make a deep effect 
 upon Arthur. 
 
 About half-an-hour before Arthur was to 
 leave, Smilie arrived. He saw the trunk in 
 the hall, and asked the maid '' Who was
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 167 
 
 leaving? " The answer acquainted him with 
 the remarkable circumstances, even including 
 the quarrel between Arthur and Mr. Berner, 
 which Philip had fully reported to the ser- 
 vants. 
 
 This was, for Smilie, too brilliant an oppor- 
 tunity to be lost. He waited patiently until 
 Arthur made his appearance, and then rushed 
 forward with both hands extended, exclaim- 
 ing in an ecstatic tone — 
 
 '' I wish you joy, joy, joy ! Oh, Mr. 
 Challoner, what a privilege it is for me to 
 witness the moment of your bursting forth on 
 the world ! As soon as you set foot in London 
 you will be in your zenith. The gates of 
 glory will open for you, and you will be 
 ushered into the presence of splendour. You 
 will sit at the banquets of the great, and you 
 will receive the mighty in your halls. Then, 
 alas ! you will be dazzled by the attentions of 
 the proud, and your former friends will be 
 buried in the tomb of oblivion. But never 
 shall your memory fade from our minds ; 
 never shall we forget the lustre your presence 
 shed on our paths ; never shall James Smilie
 
 168 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 cease to remember that he had the inesti- 
 mable honour of being one of the first to 
 offer you his sincerest, most cordial, most 
 fervent congratulations." 
 
 Arthur hstened to this ovation with the 
 dignity of a monarch receiving the homage 
 of his vassal; and as Philip, Ruddles, and 
 Ann were witnessing this absurd scene, he 
 made a successful effort to keep his gravity. 
 He shook hands very cordially with Smilie, 
 assuring him that he would always have a 
 lively recollection of his kind expressions, 
 and raising him to the highest summit of 
 rapture by inviting him to come and see him 
 when in town. He took a hearty farewell of 
 Philip and Ruddles, promising to write fre- 
 quently to the former, and drove off in great 
 spirits at having left them with a favourable 
 parting. He had tipped the servants hand- 
 somely, and was eager that everybody should 
 share in his good fortune. 
 
 How Smilie sang his praises need not be 
 recorded ; we have had sufficient samples of 
 his style to form an idea of his encomiums ; 
 but we must not omit to describe the way in
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 169 
 
 which Gallford received the surprising intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 Mrs. Rabbits, the landlady at number 
 twenty-four, was the most indefatigable gossip 
 in all Dullroad Buildings. Early that morning 
 she heard the news from her milkman, who 
 also supplied number five, and who had learnt 
 it from the communicative Ann. He was so 
 brimful of the news that he bestowed it on 
 his customers while measuring out his pints 
 and quarts ; and when he mentioned it to 
 Mrs. Rabbits she had no peace of mind until 
 she communicated it to her lodgers. She 
 had been on good terms with Gallford lately, 
 as he had paid up his arrears ; but he was 
 very gruff in manner to her, and she wished 
 to ingratiate herself with him again, and this 
 seemed a golden opportunity for so doing. 
 
 '^Do you know what has 'appened, Mr. 
 Gallford, sir? " she said, as she brought him 
 his breakfast. 
 
 '' No, and don't wish to." 
 
 *' Oh, you'll not say that when you hear 
 what it is. It is something wonderful." 
 
 " I don't want to hear it."
 
 170 CAN IT BE TRUE'i 
 
 But as Mrs. Rabbits wanted to tell it, she 
 persevered. 
 
 " One o' the young gentlemen as lives at 
 Mr. Berner's come into such hincredible 
 wealth, 'undreds and 'undreds of thousands ! " 
 
 '' What ! " exclaimed Gallford ; '' is Bever- 
 ley's father dead ? " 
 
 *'No, it haint Mr. Beverley, it's Mr. 
 Challingner ; and hall unbeknown to him he 
 gets it. A cousin o' his dies in California, 
 and leaves it him, 'undreds and 'undreds of 
 thousands ! " 
 
 There was a pause, during which Gallford 
 looked unusually sour. 
 
 " He'll waste it in debauchery," he mut- 
 tered. '' He'll squander it all in two or three 
 years." 
 
 " 'Undreds and 'undreds of thousands ! " 
 repeated the landlady, with increasing wonder. 
 
 " A short course of riotous living will soon 
 make it vanish." 
 
 " Such wealth," said Mrs. Rabbits, '' such 
 overwhelmin' hopulence, cannot vanish." 
 
 '' Nonsense ! " said Gallford. '' Give a 
 young fellow money and we know what he
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 171 
 
 does with It. I hope he may suffer for his 
 follies. I hope the day may come when he 
 will receive a lesson he will never forget." 
 
 '' Oh, Mr. Gallford ! " she exclaimed, in a 
 mournful voice, '' why did you quarrel with 
 him ? Why did you not put up with him ? 
 If you 'ad only kep' in with him you might 
 now be reapin' a 'eavenly reward ! He might 
 have took you to live with him, or he 
 might even have called upon you in this 
 'ouse, in this very 'ouse ! Oh dear ! oh dear ! 
 Why did you fall out with him ? What a 
 pity ! Now, if you were, Hke a good, dear 
 gentleman, to take my 'umble advice, you 
 would sit down at that there desk and write 
 him a nice, long, 'earty letter, and tell him 
 'ow glad you was to learn his good fortune. 
 You will, now, won't you ? You could say 
 hall that so cleverly, and it would be such a 
 hadvantage for you to find a friend in so 
 great a gentleman as he will be now." 
 
 " Mrs. Rabbits," he said, sternly, " do you 
 seriously advise me to compromise the dignity 
 of independent poverty and neglected merit 
 by fawning on the wealthy? Woman, for-
 
 172 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 bear ! Breathe not another word of such 
 treason in my presence ! I know whom he 
 likes ; I know what sort of friends he will 
 favour. I likewise remember how he behaved 
 to me, and I turn away from him in scorn, 
 leaving him to the punishment he deserves ! " 
 
 ''Well," said Mrs. Rabbits, on relating 
 this dialogue to another lodger, '^ of all the 
 contrairy people that hever I see, that dear 
 soul upstairs is the worst. Now, just think, 
 he could, I am positive on it, make friends 
 with that young gentleman again, who is 
 hever so rich ; and yet he throws away his 
 chance, and prefers sulkin' to payin' his re- 
 spects in a quarter where he might get no 
 hend of money, hinfluence, and hintroduc- 
 tions." 
 
 The lodger agreed with Mrs. Rabbits that 
 such conduct was the acme of folly, wrong- 
 headedness, and madness.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 When Arthur arrived in town he immediately, 
 after securing his rooms at the hotel where he 
 had been with Philip, drove to his solicitor's. 
 The reception he there received contrasted 
 stronorlv with the coldness that was shown 
 him on a former occasion. The moment his 
 name was announced, Mr. Smith's door opened 
 as if by magic, and that gentleman himself 
 appeared on the threshold and harangued 
 Arthur almost in the style of Mr. Smilie. 
 After his exuberance had somewhat cooled 
 down, they settled to business, and Arthur 
 heard with satisfaction that the few formali- 
 ties necessary would not take long in perform- 
 ing. He availed himself of the offer made
 
 174 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 through Mr. Field, and borrowed the sum of 
 two hundred pounds for immediate expenses. 
 
 All being arranged for the present, and 
 having nothing further to say, Arthur rose to 
 depart, Mr. Smith insisting on escorting him 
 downstairs. As they were descending they 
 encountered a gentleman who was coming up, 
 a httle Hthe man, with sharp eyes and a hook 
 nose, on beholding whom Mr. Smith ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 '' Oh ! what an opportune meeting ! Mr. 
 Challoner, I have long wished to make you 
 acquainted with Mr. Silversnake. This is, 
 indeed, a pleasure to me. Mr. Silversnake, 
 you know Mr. Challoner already by name." 
 
 The gentleman rejoicing in the cognomen 
 of Silversnake replied that he did, and added 
 that he had met Mr. Townley Challoner years 
 ago in California. This was interesting in- 
 telligence to Arthur, who was desirous of 
 having particulars about his relative ; but 
 not wishing to detain the stranger any longer 
 at that moment, he invited him to visit him 
 at his hotel, an invitation accepted with 
 •alacrity.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 175 
 
 From Mr. Smith Arthur repaired to a tailor, 
 recommended to him by PhiHp, and ordered 
 his mourning. He was anxious to pay respect 
 to the memory of a man to whom he owed so 
 much. His feehngs were always of the most 
 elevated kind, and never led him into erroneous 
 actions, except, perhaps, when they persuaded 
 him to confer favours on people whose merits 
 he had not sufficiently investigated. But this 
 was a fault '' leaning to virtue's side," and for 
 which the reader will, we are sure, forgive 
 him. 
 
 From the tailor's he went to a bookshop 
 and purchased some novels and poems to 
 beguile his solitude at the hotel. His active 
 mind had always required reading, and he 
 was guided in the fields of literature by un- 
 usual taste and judgment. He had studied 
 from a boy as much to contribute to his own 
 pleasure as to perform the tasks imposed upon 
 him, and at this particular time his reading 
 propensities were of great benefit to him. 
 Solitude in a large city is more trying than in 
 a small town or the country ; and he would, 
 indeed, have been thrown adrift the first few
 
 176 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 days of his stay in town if he had not indulged 
 in the companionship of books. 
 
 However, his loneHness was not completely 
 unbroken, Mr. Silversnake ere long availing 
 himself of the invitation. 
 
 ^^ Do you know," he said, '^ that I happened 
 to mention your name to a friend of my son, 
 and he declared you were an old schoolfellow 
 of his ? He says he should be delighted to 
 meet you again after such a long time. Can 
 you imagine who it is ? '^ 
 
 ^' No," said Arthur; '' please tell me, you 
 have aroused my curiosity." 
 
 '' George Vane." 
 
 '' Is it possible?" Arthur exclaimed. ''I 
 wrote to him two or three times since we last 
 met and never received an answer." 
 
 " Oh, but you should have seen his delight 
 on hearing of you again ! He could scarcely 
 contain himself for joy." 
 
 This was not strictly true ; but it was a 
 sufficiently near approach to truth to satisfy 
 Mr. Silversnake's veracity. George Vane, 
 on hearing Arthur mentioned, showed the 
 completest indifference ; but when he was
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 177 
 
 informed that he had inherited a large for- 
 tune, his eagerness to meet his former friend 
 knew no bounds, and he begged Mr. Silver- 
 snake to bring them together, a wish the latter 
 promised to gratify. Arthur, who was not 
 disposed to bear ill-will for neglect, expressed 
 a wish to see Vane, and his visitor seized the 
 opportunity of inviting him to his house. 
 
 " My wife will be charmed to have the 
 pleasure of making your acquaintance ; so 
 will the rest of my family. If you will dine 
 with us to-morrow evening, Vane shall be 
 there, and you will confer a favour on us all.'* 
 
 Arthur readily promised to come. Mr. 
 Silversnake was enchanted. 
 
 ''If you only knew," he said, ''all the 
 fatigue I have constantly to undergo ; what 
 with being director to this company and 
 chairman of that board, I really sometimes 
 do not know how I get through my work 
 without breaking down, to say nothing of the 
 enterprises I have on hand, and which are of 
 such colossal magnitude that the strain on 
 my mind is some-times o-v-er-whel-ming." 
 These last words with solemn emphasis. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 '' But/' he resumed, in a conversational 
 tone, '' I shall have more to say to you on 
 these interesting topics later on. For the 
 present, I will only add that if you do not 
 see me to-morrow evening, you will excuse 
 my absence by considering that I have been 
 overcome by the excess of my labours." 
 
 Mr. Silversnake, as the reader may have 
 already suspected, was a man deeply engaged 
 in a variety of speculations, and who had an 
 eye to the assistance of Arthur's large fortune 
 in his future undertakings. But Arthur was 
 innocent of any suspicion, and thought his 
 visitor a pleasant, hospitable man. 
 
 Mrs. Silversnake was similar to her husband 
 in character, only with this difference, that 
 while he w^as devoting his energies to money- 
 making, she was equally active in the pursuit 
 of social distinction. A lady by birth, poverty 
 compelled her to accept the offer of a man 
 for whom she did not feel much affection, 
 but when they were married she made the 
 best of her position, and was not a little the 
 cause of her husband's hazardous specula- 
 tions. Her tastes were expensive and her
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 179 
 
 ambition unbounded, so that his money soon 
 took wing in her hands, and he found it 
 necessary to be ahvays supplying larger 
 sums. They had one daughter, for whom 
 they were forming great matrimonial pro- 
 jects, and this was chiefly the reason why 
 Mr. Silversnake did not oppose his wife's 
 lavish expenditure. If they desired to re- 
 ceive the best company for Bessie's sake, 
 they must entertain accordingly. Their 
 house was, therefore, the scene of constant 
 hospitality and gaiety, and it must be allowed 
 that Mrs. Silversnake had the talent of being 
 an agreeable hostess. Good-looking in the 
 eyes of most people, and, according to some, 
 absolutely handsome, she had a pleasant, 
 insinuating manner that blinded all, except 
 the most penetrating, to the fact that she 
 was really a sly, intriguing, untrustworthy 
 woman. Her daughter Bessie took after her 
 in appearance ; she had the same cold, clear 
 eyes, the same defined, well-cut features, the 
 same slight, graceful figure, but she was 
 more open and natural than her mother. 
 Mrs. Silversnake received Arthur with her
 
 180 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 most fascinating smiles and speeches, 
 George Vane had not yet arrived, and 
 Arthur had time to form his first impression 
 of his hostess and her daughter. It was not 
 unfavourable with regard to the latter ; but, 
 unaccustomed to fulsome attentions, he felt 
 somewhat oppressed by Mrs. Silversnake's 
 politeness. 
 
 To Arthur's great relief, her attention was 
 soon diverted to other guests, among whom 
 were Lady Marshfield and Sir Alexander. 
 Shortly afterwards Miss Wentworth and Mrs. 
 Ford appeared, to his joyful surprise, as he 
 did not know that Flora was acquainted with 
 the Silversnakes. She appeared to him more 
 charming than ever, and with her and Lady 
 Marshfield he conversed until George Vane 
 entered the room. 
 
 This former friend of Arthur was a young 
 man in whose hands the fairest opportunities 
 in life had been frittered away. Idle, capri- 
 cious, prodigal, he had wearied the kindness 
 of his parents, and exhausted the patience of 
 his friends. Arthur would scarcely have 
 known him again, so changed was he in
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 181 
 
 appearance, some would have said for the 
 better ; but Arthur was not of this opinion. 
 He had lost in candour what he had gained 
 in polish. He greeted Arthur with a wonder- 
 ful show of cordiahty, and did not lose sight 
 of him the whole evening ; and next day 
 he called upon him with a scheme in his 
 head, which was carried out in the following 
 dialogue : — 
 
 '' I was amazingly glad/' said Vane, '' to 
 see you again. I frequently thought of you, 
 and wondered where you were." 
 
 *'I wrote to you several times," said Arthur, 
 ^' but never received a reply." 
 
 *' Well, I have led such a wandering life," 
 Vane answered, '' that it is not strange if 
 letters sent to me were lost. I assure you, for 
 years I have not been three weeks in the same 
 place. You get so weary of living in one 
 spot and never stirring ; and if you travel, 
 even travelling soon loses its charm." 
 
 '' You seem," said Arthur, '' to be out of 
 sorts this morning. Last night you were 
 more cheerful." 
 
 '' I am always cheerful of an evening," his
 
 182 CAN IT BE TRUE 1 
 
 visitor retorted ; '' but of a morning how 
 barren and unsatisfactory the whole world 
 appears ! When we are tumbling out of bed 
 what deplorable objects we look ! Is there 
 anything more dreary than the aspect of a 
 street at seven or eight a.m.? " 
 
 Arthur laughed at this odd fancy. 
 
 '' I find," continued Vane, ^' nothing but 
 vanity and affliction of spirit of a morning, 
 and if it had not been for my impatience to 
 pay you a visit, I should scarcely have 
 emerged from my den at such an early 
 hour." 
 
 This assertion was flagrantly untrue, but it 
 suited his purpose to appear as though he 
 were very partial to Arthur. 
 
 '' I should never have thought it possible," 
 he went on saying, ''for anyone to bear so 
 great and sudden a change of fortune so 
 philosophically as you are doing. I should 
 be half wild with excitement. What astonish- 
 ing strength of mind you must have to be so 
 composed! " 
 
 This remark was highly gratifying to 
 Arthur. He had not supposed that the
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE'i 183 
 
 manner in which he bore his good fortune 
 was deserving of commendation, but now that 
 he came to think of it he mentally agreed 
 with Vane that it was highly praiseworthy. 
 
 " I should have a thousand schemes in my 
 head," said Vane, '^as to how I should enjoy 
 myself, and I should be so impatient that I 
 should certainly plunge at once into a whirl of 
 gaiety. Not one moment would I delay 
 enjoying myself." 
 
 '' There are few people," said Arthur, 
 '' who would not say so too. But I — well, 
 the fact is, I have gone through so much that 
 I have at present little relish for amusement." 
 
 ''If you will only begin," said Vane, '' the 
 relish will come before you are aware of it. 
 You must launch forth, you must assert your- 
 self, you must — " 
 
 Words here failed him to express his con- 
 ceptions, so he waved his hands, as if he were 
 embracing all the joys and pleasures of the 
 world. He would, indeed, have been over- 
 joyed to become Arthur's guide on the 
 flowery path to ruin, and to occupy this post 
 was the great object he had in view.
 
 184 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 Arthur, impressionable and unsuspicious, 
 was, within certain bounds, easily influenced. 
 An idea suggested to him was quickly grasped 
 by his mind, and improved by his lively 
 imagination ; and those towards whom he 
 was favourably disposed had additional 
 facility in moulding him to their will. He 
 was not weak, but he was kind, pliant, and 
 courteous, and sensitive in a high degree to 
 pleasant or unpleasant impressions. 
 
 We need not, therefore, marvel if he was 
 inclined to take George Vane into his good 
 graces and to make an intimate friend of 
 him. He invited him to stay for luncheon, 
 and talked all the time of his plans, of the 
 house he intended to take, of how he should 
 furnish it, of the horses he would buy, and 
 listened with much interest to Vane's sugges- 
 tions and recommendations. Vane was 
 greatly elated to find that his advances were 
 so well received, and he determined to derive 
 as much advantage as possible from his 
 wealthy friend's partiality. 
 
 Arthur's days were now very pleasantly 
 spent, what with invitations from Lady Marsh-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 185 
 
 iield, the Silversnakes, and other acquaint- 
 ances, and the agreeable occupation of fitting 
 up his house in the most luxurious style. 
 Lady Marshfield and Mrs. Silversnake were 
 most kind In giving him the benefit of their 
 taste and experience, and the solicitude which 
 Mrs. Silversnake showed in all his affairs was 
 so marked that George Vane drew from It the 
 inference that she was not without hopes of 
 securing the young, handsome, and rich 
 Arthur Challoner for her dauo^hter, '' other- 
 wise," he argued, ''what could her motive be 
 in taking such an absorbing interest in him?" 
 Whether this suspicion was well-founded or 
 not, it proves that Vane held disinterested 
 friendship to be a fiction and a myth.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 In vast cities, where men of all nations 
 assemble, there is sure to be a dangerous 
 minority, capable of every vice and crime, 
 forming a nucleus of evil by which the peace 
 and security of the State are threatened. 
 Thus in Philip Beverley's disposition, exposed 
 by nature and fortune to every bad passion 
 and misleading influence, there was formed, 
 if we may so express ourselves, a deposit of 
 evil qualities which only required stirring to 
 poison his character and his actions. Now, 
 unfortunately, the time had arrived when it 
 was to be lashed into fury, and goaded into 
 frenzy. As our narrative proceeds we shall 
 have to trace the decline and fall of what 
 might have been an honourable career.
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 187 
 
 When he told Arthur that he intended to 
 make himself as disagreeable as possible to 
 the Berners, he said no more than was really 
 his intention ; and he lost no time in carrying 
 out his amiable plan. 
 
 He opened hostilities by writing a long 
 letter to his father, the whole tenour of which 
 tended to bias him against Mr. Berner. At 
 the same time, Philip professed to be per- 
 fectly contented with his place of residence, 
 and to be willing to remain as long as might 
 be desired. He knew his father's character, 
 and calculated accordingly. Had he openly 
 decried Mr. Berner, his assertions would have 
 obtained no credit ; but this subtle method of 
 detraction, dictated seemingly by a friendly 
 spirit, and uttered, as it were, in an uncon- 
 scious manner, worked with the greatest 
 force and effect. 
 
 Having thus diplomatically prepared the 
 way for retreat, he vigorously attacked the 
 enemy, and made himself so disagreeable 
 that, when he announced his intention of 
 leaving, the very thought of his departure 
 was delightful to the Berners.
 
 188 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 Having carried his point, Philip behaved 
 with tolerable civility until he left. So intense 
 was his selfishness, and so violent his craving 
 for perpetual enjoyment, that, whenever he 
 was thwarted in the slightest degree, he 
 would lose sight of the laws of decorum and 
 civility, and behave with odious insolence, 
 and even ferocity ; but if the obstacle which 
 roused his ire was removed, he would become 
 somewhat less overbearing, and more amen- 
 able to reason. 
 
 It was a relief to the Berners when he was 
 gone, but Ruddles felt his loss deeply, not- 
 withstanding the frequent bullying to which 
 lie had been subjected. The boy was 
 naturally affectionate and forgiving, and 
 would have borne even harsher treatment 
 Avithout a murmur. 
 
 While these events were taking place, the 
 fortunes of those who lived at number 4, 
 Dullroad Buildings, were undergoing a change. 
 Arabella Clarke was destined not much 
 longer to remain in that dreary abode. 
 
 Miss Clarke was, as we have already 
 informed the reader, constantly making new
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 189' 
 
 wills. Her freaks and caprices were un- 
 accountable, and sorely puzzled the cool, 
 legal mind of her solicitor, to whom the 
 slightest deviation from the path of a strictly 
 rational conduct appeared a mild lunacy. 
 
 *' Well, I declare ! " he exclaimed one 
 morning, '' if that isn't Miss Clarke coming 
 again about her everlasting will ! When 
 will the woman settle as to how she will leave 
 her property ? Not satisfied with adding 
 codicils, she is for ever revoking wills which 
 only a few weeks before she declared to 
 express her final decision." 
 
 Miss Clarke marched into his office with a 
 determined step, and after drawing out of 
 her reticule an enormous quantity of letters 
 and memoranda, she said — 
 
 *' I feel it my duty to reconsider the will I 
 made three months ago, and by which I left 
 my niece Arabella nothing. Since then I have 
 had reason to believe that she is looked upon 
 with extreme disfavour by my cousin Letitia 
 Jemima Ehzabeth Clarke, a person to whom 
 I have the greatest aversion, and I therefore 
 intend leaving the said Arabella Clarke a
 
 190 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 substantial legacy as the best means of pro- 
 voking, annoying, and aggravating the said 
 Letitia Jemima Elizabeth Clarke." 
 
 The solicitor took down her instructions, 
 trying his best to conceal the sardonic smile 
 called forth by this exhibition of petty spite. 
 
 '^ I bequeath the sum of ten thousand 
 pounds to my niece Arabella Clarke. Have 
 you written that ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 ^' Very well. Now I am positive that she 
 has an intense wish to possess my rings, a 
 wish I am determined not to gratify. I there- 
 fore intend leaving my emerald and diamond 
 ring to Mrs. Silversnake as a memento of a 
 devoted friend ; though I do not much care 
 for the woman, that phrase sounds well, so 
 please insert it. I leave my brilliant diamond 
 ring and my half-hoop ruby ring to Miss 
 Scratcher. Arabella is frantically jealous of 
 her, she will be wild at my leaving them to 
 Clotilda ! Miss Clotilda Scratcher ; have you 
 put that down ? " 
 
 '' I have." 
 
 '^As for my opal ring, I bequeath it to
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 191 
 
 Mrs. Jones. She is superstitious to the last 
 degree, and will be terrified at receiving it. 
 My half-hoop sapphire ring I bequeath to 
 Lady Marshfield as a slight token of affec- 
 tionate regard ! I can't say that I really 
 have any regard for her, but it sounds well 
 to have a title in the list of legatees. My 
 turquoise and diamond earrings I leave to 
 Mrs. M'Dowd, w^ho never wears earrings. 
 The rest of my jewellery is to be sold, and 
 
 the proceeds to be handed over to the 
 
 Hospital. It looks well to bequeath some- 
 thing to a hospital, and that particular institu- 
 tion is not in want of funds. I have made it 
 a rule through life never to give anything in 
 charity ; it pauperizes the recipients, and 
 encourages begging and idleness. I do not 
 deviate from that wholesome principle by 
 leaving a legacy to a wealthy hospital ; it is 
 more a present than a charity. Are you not 
 of that opinion ? " 
 
 *' Decidedly ; and I admire the consistency 
 with which you carry out your ideas." 
 
 *' Exactly ! " she exclaimed, with great 
 complacency, ^' that is what I am alw^ays im-
 
 192 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 pressing on Arabella. ' Never be influenced 
 by feelings,' I say to her ; ' always by prin- 
 ciple. Never let your actions be the result 
 of whim or impulse, but always of reason. 
 Take an example by me, who am never 
 swayed by passion or caprice.' I have said 
 that to her times without number. But to 
 return to business. In my last will I left my 
 cook an annuity of forty pounds. She 
 burned my chops yesterday, and my coffee 
 was as weak as water. I will not be neglected 
 with impunity, so I shall omit her altogether 
 in this will. And, after all, I am not bound 
 to provide for her. She has only been in my 
 service fifteen years ; and, in my opinion, 
 servants employed for any period under a 
 quarter of a century ought not to be entitled 
 to form expectations. I leave the sum of 
 one thousand pounds to my doctor, provided 
 I attain the age of eighty ; if I do not attain 
 that age he is to have nothing. I have 
 already informed him of this item, and it has 
 had the desired effect of making him bestow 
 more care on my constitution. Of late I 
 have been feeling very ill, with the strangest
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 193 
 
 sensations all over me. I do not know what 
 they are." 
 
 She said these last words with a shudder, 
 and paused for a moment. 
 
 "As for that hateful Letitia Jemima Eliza- 
 beth Clarke/' she resumed, with desperate 
 energy, " she shall not have one farthing of 
 my money, not one halfpenny. She is on 
 bad terms with her brother, John Clarke ; I 
 therefore leave him two thousand pounds free 
 of duty. Arabella's money shall not be free 
 of duty ; that will make her angry. And I 
 appoint the said John Clarke and the Reverend 
 Frederick Berner my executors and trustees j 
 and I bequeath two hundred pounds to Mr. 
 Berner, to compensate him for the trouble he 
 will have. I gave him a hint one day that I 
 would leave him a thousand pounds ; but I 
 do not care for his wife, so the other sum is 
 ample. The lease of my house I leave to 
 Arabella. She hates it, and will dislike having 
 it on her hands. After these legacies and all 
 my debts are paid, I direct that the residue 
 of my estate be applied to erecting a magni- 
 ficent stained glass window in Church to 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 
 
 my memory, and that a brass tablet be placed 
 beneath it setting forth my munificence and 
 concluding with the words : ' Her spirit was 
 charity and love.' " 
 
 Having given with this hypocritical osten- 
 tation the finishing touch to her frightful 
 exhibition of malignity and caprice, she rose 
 with a triumphant air. 
 
 The soHcitor was too well versed in the 
 darker phases of human nature to feel surprise 
 or indignation at the frame of mind in which 
 she drew up her last will and testament, but 
 he could not suppress a feehng of intense 
 contempt. 
 
 He arranged to come next day with the 
 document in a legal form and the witnesses, 
 and she departed well-pleased with the result 
 of the interview. 
 
 Next day the document was duly signed, 
 Arabella having been previously sent out of 
 the house on some pretext by her astute aunt 
 that she might not guess what event was 
 taking place. Indeed, she was completely 
 ignorant of the fact that Miss Clarke had 
 made and revoked so many wills.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 195 
 
 It was fortunate for Arabella that the will 
 was made without loss of time. Miss Clarke, 
 whose health had long been failing, now 
 rapidly declined. One evening when Arabella 
 had retired to her room, she heard a violent 
 ringing of bells, and a moment afterwards 
 the housemaid came running upstairs and 
 rapped at her door, exclaiming in an agitated 
 voice — 
 
 '' Do come down, Miss Arabella. We 
 don't know what to do. Miss Clarke is so 
 queer." 
 
 Arabella, in the greatest alarm, slipped on 
 her dressing-gown and hastened to her aunt's 
 room. She found her reclining in an easy- 
 chair, to which the cook and housemaid had 
 conducted her on answering the bell. She 
 had sunk on the fioor near the bell-rope, and 
 was almost unconscious when they entered. 
 She was now somewhat relieved, and answered 
 Arabella's inquiries with impatience. 
 
 ^^ Don't bend over me like that, child ; you 
 stifle me. Send for the doctor. The room 
 was too hot. I shall be better presently." 
 
 In spite of this assurance she looked
 
 196 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 alarmingly ill, and Arabella lost no time in 
 dispatching a message to the doctor, begging 
 his immediate attendance. 
 
 Pending his arrival she did her best to 
 alleviate the pains of the sufferer ; no easy 
 task, for she was restless, impatient, and 
 savagely irritable. With the cook's assist- 
 ance Arabella managed to get her into 
 bed, though the trouble and exertion were 
 great. 
 
 At last the doctor came. The patient 
 watched the expression of his face with 
 anxiety, and answered his questions angrily 
 and evasively. 
 
 ''I am not ill at all," she muttered; ''I 
 am only suffering from the effects of an over- 
 heated room. We need not have sent for 
 you, but Arabella is so absurdly nervous. I 
 have told her times without number not to be 
 guided by impulse." 
 
 Here she paused for breath, closing her 
 eyes, and then resumed — 
 
 '' Perhaps she believes what she hopes. 
 We all do that. She wishes me to go. She 
 cannot hear what I am saying ? "
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 197 
 
 With these words she sat up in her bed 
 and looked wildly round the room. 
 
 '^ No, she cannot," said the doctor, sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 '^ I will alter my will," she resumed, sinking 
 back on her pillow. '^ She shall have no 
 cause to rejoice ! She has been plotting and 
 scheming, scheming and plotting for this — 
 for this ! I know her ! Doctor, tell me truly : 
 am I in danger? " 
 
 Saying these words she clasped his hand 
 eagerly. 
 
 '' If you keep yourself perfectly quiet," he 
 replied, '' I can answer honestly that you are 
 not in danger." 
 
 '^Arabella!" she cried, with a sudden 
 effort. *' Arabella, come to me quickly." 
 
 Her niece obeyed the summons and hurried 
 to her bedside. 
 
 '' I am here. Aunt Lydia," 
 
 '^ Arabella," she cried, '' he wishes to 
 prevent me from saying what I have to say ; 
 but I will not be silenced. They are forging 
 my will ! I thought so all along, I suspected 
 it for months, and now I know it 1 But they
 
 198 CAN IT BE TRUE^ 
 
 shall be well punished. Send for the police,, 
 and have them arrested. Forgery ! police ! 
 detectives ! '' 
 
 Arabella stood aghast on hearing these 
 delirious words, and gazed with alarm and 
 concern at the wretched old woman. 
 
 *' I must prosecute them," she continued. 
 *' Doctor, make me well by the time the trial 
 takes place. I must appear as a witness, and 
 so must Arabella and John Clarke. Oh, for 
 Heaven's sake make me well ! I have left 
 you a thousand pounds in my will, provided I 
 live to be eighty. I am actually seventy now, 
 though I don't look it. Don't you think you 
 can pull me through another ten years ? It 
 is to your interest to do so. Ten years are a 
 short time after all. Make me well, and God 
 will bless you. Make me well ! make me 
 well ! " 
 
 She moaned and shuddered and looked 
 appeahngly at the doctor, who tried to soothe 
 her as best he could. He wrote a prescrip- 
 tion, and took his departure when she was 
 somewhat composed, assuring Arabella that 
 there was no imminent danger provided she
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 199 
 
 could be prevented from exciting herself with 
 talking. 
 
 Arabella sent without delay for the medicine 
 and spent the interval in anxious watching at 
 the bedside. Great lassitude had set in 
 after the foregoing excitement, and Arabella 
 fervently hoped that all danger was averted ; 
 but when the medicine arrived it was neces- 
 sary to give it to the patient, and Arabella 
 approached the bed with that object. To 
 her extreme dismay, Miss Clarke stubbornly 
 refused to take it, and pushed her aside angrily. 
 
 ^' No, no," she murmured ; '' not a drop. 
 I want nothing. I will take nothing. I will 
 be left in peace. Why torment me ? Ara- 
 bella, you are unkind to me, to me who leave 
 you so much." 
 
 Arabella urged her to take the medicine, 
 but without avail. She turned her face to the 
 wall and feigned to fall asleep. 
 
 Seeing that further pressing was useless, 
 and might be injurious, Arabella desisted, 
 and resolved to wait for a favourable oppor- 
 tunity. The hours of night were advancing, 
 and not a sign did Miss Clarke make. So
 
 200 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 silent was she that at last Arabella became 
 alarmed and softly approached the bedside. 
 
 The sick woman started with terror, and 
 gazed at her with wild eyes. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked. 
 
 Arabella again implored her to take the 
 medicine. 
 
 '' Not I ! " she retorted. '' I am better, I 
 am well. The stained-glass window will look 
 superb, and the inscription on the tablet will 
 be impressive. If Letitia ever sees it she 
 will turn white with anger. I wish she were 
 suffering what I am suffering now. Give me 
 the medicine ; Letitia would rather I did not 
 take it." 
 
 Relieved at this favourable turn of affairs, 
 Arabella did as she was told. Miss Clarke 
 swallowed it eagerly ; but her mind was 
 wandering, and her fancies became more 
 strange and incoherent. 
 
 '' Burn it, burn it," she moaned. '' It is 
 useless — I will make another. A thousand 
 pounds, doctor ; remember that ! Ten years 
 more. Arabella, we must go away — change 
 of air — I shall recover. This day next year
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 201 
 
 where shall I be ? Oh, Arabella, do not say 
 that I shall be taken before then ! A few 
 years longer. I have so much to do — so 
 many things to settle, and it is so cold 
 travelling at this time of year. I must go 
 abroad — to Germany for the waters — I shall 
 then recover. Pack up everything, child, but 
 not my rings. They are to be given to Lady 
 Scratcher and Clotilda Marshfield. They 
 are valuable, and might be stolen. Is my 
 will stolen ? Have they forged it ? Keep 
 me back, child, keep me back. They are 
 carrying me away ! The passage is so 
 terribly rough, and the wind is so high ! 
 Keep me back ! A thousand pounds — all 
 my fortune — to make me well ! " 
 
 She wandered in this harrowing strain until 
 her strength failed and unconsciousness set 
 in, from which she never rallied. She died 
 the next evening at half-past seven, and 
 Arabella, alone in the world, wept bitterly for 
 her loss, selfish, harsh, capricious, and unkind 
 though she had frequently been. 
 
 The obsequies were performed, the will 
 was opened and read ; and, to use the
 
 202 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 beautiful metaphor uttered by Mr. Berner 
 on the occasion, ''the spirit of the departed 
 beamed on the legatees." He was pleased 
 with his share, but most of the others were, 
 as the testatrix had foreseen, sorely disap- 
 pointed. Arabella, though not dissatisfied 
 with the sum bequeathed to her, had con- 
 fidently expected her aunt's jewels. Letitia, 
 being completely passed over, had thus a 
 bitter grievance, which she nourished for the 
 rest of her life. John Clarke was indignant 
 at the smallness of his legacy, and Mrs. 
 Jones gave herself up for lost when she 
 received the opal ring. 
 
 But the superb window was placed in the 
 church, the tablet was put up with a fulsome 
 inscription, in which a woman who had never 
 done a generous action in her life was ex- 
 tolled as the pattern of every virtue.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The frost and snow of winter, the winds of 
 March, and the fitful showers of April have 
 succeeded each other, and spring is advancing 
 into summer since the events narrated in our 
 last chapter. As the months went by they 
 brought many pleasures and gratifications to 
 Arthur. He had become a great favourite in 
 society, and, as George Vane had foreseen, 
 when he had tasted pleasure he was, ere long, 
 captivated by it. Many of his qualities that 
 had lain dormant were now developed by 
 prosperity. Eight months earlier he was but 
 a youth, inexperienced, diffident of himself, 
 and uncertain of his future ; now he was a 
 man, acquainted with the world, though not
 
 204 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 disabused of its follies ; conscious of his own 
 advantages of nature and fortune, though not 
 yet versed in the correct estimation of those 
 who called themselves his friends ; capable 
 of indulging his tastes and inclinations to the 
 utmost, though not laying aside the real kind- 
 ness and generosity of his character. 
 
 But however much he might divert himself 
 with gaieties, his thoughts were constantly 
 reverting to Flora Wentworth and her many 
 attractions, and it was a sharp thorn in his 
 side to perceive how far deeper were her feel- 
 ings for Philip Beverley than for himself. 
 
 With O'Brien he was, as ever, on the most 
 cordial terms. They were drawn to each 
 other by an innate sympathy such as can 
 only be felt, not analyzed ; a sympathy for 
 which no reason can be adduced, except 
 that given by Montaigne when asked why he 
 was so attached to his friend : '''' Puree que 
 c'etait lui, parce que c'etait moi/' 
 
 If O'Brien was in every sense a desirable 
 companion, the same cannot be said of 
 George Vane. Every month seemed to 
 develop more fully the bad qualities in-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 205 
 
 herent to his disposition, and they were 
 qualities unredeemed by any amiable traits. 
 
 Arthur had not seen much of Philip during 
 these months. Mr. Beverley had died sud- 
 denly, and Philip had succeeded to his 
 enormous fortune. Neither affectionate nor 
 dutiful, his feelings were little in harmony 
 with the mourning he donned. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Silversnake were sedulous in 
 their attentions to Arthur, and surrounded 
 him with a delicate little web of treacherous 
 kindness and false civility. In which they 
 hoped to entangle, if not himself, at least his 
 fortune. Miss Silversnake had made a bosom 
 friend of Arabella Clarke, who was her parents' 
 constant visitor. At their house Arthur also 
 frequently met Flora and Mrs. Ford ; but he 
 had few opportunities of a tete-a-tete with 
 the charming girl as she was keenly watched 
 by her comxpanlon and he by his satellites. 
 
 And now that we see him in the clutches 
 of this gang of Beverleys, Silversnakes, and 
 Vanes, to say nothing of the smaller fry of 
 harpies and parasites, we can confidently 
 prophesy that he will reap sorrow and deso-
 
 206 CAN IT BE TR UE 1 
 
 lation from such a seed. We shall enumerate 
 one by one the wounds inflicted upon his 
 heart, until at last, pierced through and 
 through with the arrows of treachery, it will 
 be a marvel that he arises and lives. 
 
 '^ I'll bet you five thousand guineas that in 
 all Europe you could never find a handsomer 
 or more attractive girl than Flora Wentworth. 
 Even the jealous eye of Miss Silversnake fails 
 to discover a flaw in her beauty. If you were 
 to marry her, all the men would envy you and 
 all the women would be jealous of her. She 
 is peerless, and I am quite certain that you 
 appreciate her perfections. Why, therefore, 
 do you not propose to her?" 
 
 Thus Philip Beverley was saying to Arthur 
 one evening after dinner at the house of 
 the latter, and after imbibing a considerable 
 quantity of wine. 
 
 '' You have often asked me that question,'* 
 said Arthur, smiling, '' and I have invariably 
 repHed that you stand higher in her favour
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE^ 207 
 
 than myself, and that is an excellent reason 
 for me not to proceed further." 
 
 *' But if I assure you," said Philip, filling 
 his glass, '^ that I have not the slightest 
 intention of marrying as yet? If I give you 
 my word of honour that I never paid, or 
 intended to pay, my addresses to Miss Went- 
 worth ? If I declare that I really am not in 
 love with her, and that I have no reason to 
 believe that she cares for me as much as you 
 suppose? " 
 
 As he said these words he drank off his 
 wine rapidly and excitedly. 
 
 Arthur looked at him and said — 
 
 " I am surely not mistaken. The insight 
 of love is keen, and I am convinced that 
 Flora Wentworth is devoted to you. Propose 
 to her and you will be accepted. I would be 
 the last to stand in the way of your happiness. 
 It would give me almost as much joy to see 
 you happy with her as myself." 
 
 Philip's perfidious eyes had a strange 
 gleam in them as he answered — 
 
 *' Perhaps I may be induced to marry ten 
 years hence, but not now. I wish to enjoy
 
 208 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 my liberty a little longer. You, who are so 
 much steadier than I am, would make a far 
 better husband. Why do you hesitate ? Your 
 fortune is, I am sure, more than ample." 
 
 '^ It is nothing to yours," said Arthur. 
 
 ''What of that? Flora is not a girl to 
 weigh pounds, shillings, and pence ; and, even 
 if she were, your position is such that she 
 would be delighted with your offer. I would 
 not say all this if I did not know how happy 
 you would be together. Now, my dear fellow, 
 why oblige me to hold forth all night ? Why 
 not hsten to reason and take the step that 
 will make your future delightful ? " 
 
 He proceeded to paint their connubial 
 felicity in such brilliant colours that Arthur, 
 enchanted with the prospect, gave up all 
 further opposition, and assured his friend that 
 he would propose to her next day. 
 
 ''Very well," thought Philip ; '' but I shall 
 take care that you arrive too late." 
 
 Philip Beverley had indeed placed in 
 Arthur's way a net of abominable guile. 
 
 We have seen enough of this young man's 
 nature to discover that he derived a fiend-like
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 209 
 
 pleasure from the misery of others ; and now 
 that he perceived this unique opportunity of 
 gratifying that odious taste he seized it with 
 eager dehght. He looked upon the whole 
 affair as a huge joke, and whether it would 
 make Arthur unhappy or not was little his 
 concern. Accordingly, so soon as he re- 
 turned to his house that night, he wrote a 
 letter to Miss Wentworth declaring his love 
 and asking her to become his wife, a piece of 
 double-dyed treachery at once perfidious to 
 his friend and cruel to the woman he pro- 
 fessed to love. 
 
 When Flora Wentworth received the letter 
 she perused It with feelings of rapturous 
 elation. The plausible exterior of the arch- 
 traitor had captivated her, and she was one 
 of those who, If they love at all, love deeply 
 and constantly. Her reply was, as may be 
 supposed, a most favourable assent, highly 
 gratifying to Philip's vanity. 
 
 Having despatched her answer, she ac- 
 quainted Mrs. Ford with the momentous step 
 she had taken. 
 
 '' What ! " exclaimed that lady, '' you do 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 not mean to say that you have been so rash 
 as to accept Mr. Beverley ? " 
 
 '' I have accepted him," said Flora, "with- 
 out hesitation." 
 
 *' In spite of all my warnings ? " 
 
 " I know you have a prejudice against 
 him," she replied ; '' but it is unfounded." 
 
 '^ On the contrary," protested Mrs. Ford, 
 *' I myself liked him at first, and it was not 
 until I had unanswerable proof of his bad 
 disposition that I tried to open your eyes. 
 Flora, we have lived long enough together 
 for you to know that I am not suspicious, not 
 censorious, not uncharitable in my judgment ; 
 but my love for you, and my desire for your 
 happiness, make me speak out boldly and 
 firmly, and declare that if you marry Mr. 
 Beverley it will be the most fatal step you 
 could possibly take." 
 
 " I will not listen to such language," said 
 Flora, hotly ; " after having accepted him it 
 would be treason in me to do so." 
 
 " There is time," argued Mrs. Ford, *' there 
 is yet time for you to draw back. The happi- 
 ness of your whole future is concerned. I
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 211 
 
 have heard stories about him from rehable 
 sources that would make you shudder." 
 
 " And who has not been calumniated and 
 libelled?" asked Flora, indignantly. '^ How 
 can you stoop to make yourself the mouth- 
 piece of such fabrications ? " 
 
 '* They are nothing of the kind. They are 
 truths ; and I utter them in order to save you 
 from a terrible fate." 
 
 A pause ensued, and Flora seemed for a 
 moment impressed by her words. However, 
 she soon resumed her attitude of self- 
 defence. 
 
 '' Lady Marshfield declared solemnly to me 
 that Philip Beverley would make an excellent 
 husband ; that he may have had faults, but 
 that they would be toned down ere long, and 
 that I would be very unwise to reject him." 
 
 '' Lady Marshfield ! " exclaimed Mrs. Ford, 
 bitterly ; " if she is to become your guide, 
 philosopher, and friend, I shall not wonder at 
 the most untoward result. But I shall say no 
 more. I have done my duty ; I have warned 
 you; I am not called upon to interfere further. 
 I am compelled to leave you to your own
 
 212 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 judgment. May it guide you safely through 
 the dangers of life ! " 
 
 With these words, uttered with profounder 
 emotion than this cold, self-contained woman 
 had ever before shown, she left the room. 
 
 Flora was alone. In spite of herself, the 
 warning had sunk deeply into her soul. She 
 could not shake off a sense of the momentous 
 nature of the step she had taken. The 
 prospect of the future rose in vague outline 
 and dark colouring before her, and it required 
 all her affection for Philip to reassure her. 
 But, nevertheless, some clouds continued to 
 hang over her, and, although she was far from 
 regretting what she had done, there were 
 some importunate queries and fears that 
 would not be dispelled. 
 
 While she was in this frame of mind, Arthur 
 Challonerwas announced. She received him 
 with some surprise. 
 
 He looked unusually well on this momentous 
 day. His fine figure was set off by fashion- 
 able clothes, and his face was animated by a 
 singularly tender and pleasing expression. 
 Flora could not help being struck by it, and
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 213 
 
 with her feminine keenness of perception she 
 vaguely, if not distinctly, foresaw on what 
 errand he had come. 
 
 '^ You come opportunely," she said, with a 
 smile. '' I have been meditating, and that 
 occupation does not always make us cheer- 
 ful." 
 
 '' I should suppose," said Arthur, " that 
 your thoughts would always be of a dehghtful 
 nature." 
 
 '* Not always," she answered. " There are 
 moments — " 
 
 She sighed, and did not finish her phrase. 
 
 *' Yes," said Arthur, '' I, too, feel that 
 there are moments when our reflections are 
 fraught with melancholy, when we feel that 
 our destiny is not as we imagined it to be, 
 when we hope for something more beautiful 
 than the present can offer. I speak from 
 experience, for I have felt these emotions 
 myself. Indeed, I feel them now ; and I 
 shall always feel them unless a happier future 
 opens on my path ; I shall always feel a 
 loneliness and a vague desire for greater 
 happiness if I have not her I love to make
 
 214 CAN IT BE TRUE 1 
 
 me happy, if my intense affection and devo- 
 tion are not requited. Need I explain myself 
 further? Do you not know that you, and 
 you alone, are, and ever have been, the joy 
 of my life and the ideal of my dreams?'^ 
 
 He seized her hand and kissed it passion- 
 ately. 
 
 " Mr. Challoner," she exclaimed, '^ this is 
 indeed a strange time you have chosen for 
 such a declaration, a time when I am un- 
 prepared for it, when 1 thought you surely 
 must know — you cannot be ignorant — you, 
 his intimate friend — are you not aware that I 
 am engaged to him ? '' 
 
 '' Engaged to whom ? " Arthur gasped. 
 
 '' To Mr. Beverley," she replied. 
 
 Arthur was thunderstruck. He gazed at 
 her with speechless astonishment. 
 
 Several minutes elapsed before he could 
 find voice to say — 
 
 ** What do I hear ? Can it be true ? You, 
 engaged to Beverley, to Philip Beverley ? 
 To the man who — but no — there must be a 
 mistake. It cannot be my friend that you 
 mean ! "
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 215 
 
 '' But I do/' she said. '' Why do you 
 doubt it ? " 
 
 He rested his giddy head in his hand and 
 closed his eyes. After an interval he asked — 
 
 '^ Since when have you been engaged?" 
 
 '' Only since to-day," she replied. '^ Why 
 do you inquire ? " 
 
 " Because there is treachery in it," he cried, 
 passionately, '' because there is double-dyed 
 villainy in it, and falsehood, and infernal 
 fraud. He himself only yesterday — but no, 
 I cannot tell you the cruel story." 
 
 He rose, and paced excitedly up and down 
 the room. Her eyes followed him with a 
 terrified, bewildered expression. 
 
 '' You will not believe me when I relate it," 
 he continued. *' Only yesterday, not twenty- 
 four hours ago, I told him how deeply I loved 
 you, and that I was only held back by my 
 conviction that you preferred him to me. 
 What was his reply ? He gave me his most 
 solemn w^ord of honour that he had no inten- 
 tion of declaring himself ; indeed, he assured 
 me " (this Arthur uttered with bitter emphasis) 
 '' that he did not love you, that his feelings
 
 216 CAN IT BE TRUE't 
 
 were not sufficiently deep for him to contem- 
 plate matrimony. From this circumstance 
 you may judge the sincerity of his profes- 
 sions." 
 
 " This is a most painful and terrible scene," 
 Flora exclaimed with profound emotion. '* It 
 grieves me to see you so distressed, and to 
 hear such accusations levelled against Philip. 
 There must be a misunderstanding somewhere. 
 They cannot^ cannot be accurate. Pray con- 
 sider, Mr. Challoner, what you are saying. 
 Remember that I am now his affianced bride, 
 and that to attempt to sow distrust between 
 us would be cruel." 
 
 Here she burst into tears. 
 
 Arthur Avas moved, and said gently — 
 
 *' My dear Miss Wentworth, I grieve more 
 for your distress than for my own misfortune. 
 Never would I say a word to wound you or to 
 disturb your happiness ; but I must still main- 
 tain that there is no mistake, and that I am 
 the victim of a most cruel, atrocious fraud." 
 
 " Leave me, leave me," she cried, vehe- 
 mently. *' I cannot listen without treason to 
 such language respecting my future husband.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 1 217 
 
 I shall speak to him, and it will all be ex- 
 plained. Leave me, I pray you, leave me 
 without delay. I cannot endure this any 
 longer. Philip shall speak— he shall justify 
 himself — but meanwhile leave me." 
 
 Her voice was so imploring, and her look 
 expressive of such acute sorrow, that he was 
 fain to obey in silence. 
 
 He left her, a tempest raging in his heart. 
 Outside he encountered the sedate figure of 
 Mrs. Ford. 
 
 *' What has happened ? " she asked. "' I 
 knew by your voices something unusual had 
 occurred." 
 
 In disjointed, hurried phrases he told her 
 his story. 
 
 '' I am not surprised," she muttered. " Of 
 Mr. Beverley I always had an unfavourable 
 opinion. You have confirmed it. He will 
 make my poor child unhappy. By what 
 malignant influence is she so blinded ? 
 Would to God her eyes were opened ! " 
 
 Arthur sighed, and assured her that what 
 he said was true. 
 
 *' I believe it " she exclaimed, " I believe
 
 218 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 it fully. I have seen the world, and I know 
 W'hat Mr. Beverley is. I have tried in vain 
 to warn her against him. May this incident 
 be more successful in disabusing her than my 
 feeble words have been ! " 
 
 She said this so kindly and sincerely that 
 Arthur was emboldened to ask her to let him 
 know how Flora would be disposed In a day 
 or two, to let him have a short note with in- 
 formation as to how she was behaving 
 towards Philip. After some hesitation Mrs. 
 Ford agreed to comply with his request. 
 
 '' I may be wrong," she said, ''in writing 
 to you in such delicate circumstances without 
 her knowledge ; but If you will promise not 
 to seek an interview of her without first in- 
 forming me, I think I shall be justified in 
 doing as you desire." 
 
 He readily gave the promise, and left her 
 with many expressions of gratitude for her 
 sympathy. 
 
 As he went his way he felt as if the ground 
 were burning under his feet, and as if the 
 houses were about to fall on him and crush 
 him. Such wickedness, such perfidy, such
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 21^ 
 
 deliberate and cold-blooded treacbery ! He 
 could scarcely believe It. He doubted for a 
 moment whether he was not under the In- 
 fluence of a horrible nightmare. But no — It 
 was the bitter truth. The blood w^as running 
 hotly through his veins. He was passing 
 through the streets of London. The house 
 of the woman he loved lay behind him, and 
 ere long he saw before him the house of the 
 man he must for ever hate. 
 
 He gazed upon the lofty pile as It rose up 
 against the grey sky ; he pictured to himself 
 Flora's form passing through Its stately 
 doors ; he beheld In thought Philip by her 
 side ; the Idea overpowered him, and he 
 angrily resolved to call him to account, and 
 to make him ow^n face to face his treason. 
 
 Arthur, being known to the servants as one 
 of their master's Intimates, was admitted 
 without delay ; but when he came to Philip's 
 room he found It empty. He had expected 
 to see him there, and before he could recover 
 from his surprise, Philip's valet entered with 
 a message to the effect that his master w^as 
 unwell and could receive nobody. Arthur
 
 :220 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 was not to be shaken off so easily. He wrote 
 some lines in his pocket-book, upbraiding 
 Philip for his perfidious conduct, and de- 
 claring that he would never speak to him 
 again. He folded up the paper and gave it 
 to the valet, who soon returned with the 
 following answer — 
 
 '' Dear Challoner, 
 
 '' I don't quite understand your note. 
 What I said last night was mere fun, and I 
 never meant you to take it seriously. The 
 fact is, we had both of us been drinking too 
 much wine. You had better not think any 
 more of the affair. I have been accepted, 
 but you may console yourself with the 
 thought that you might have been the lucky 
 man had your offer preceded mine by a few 
 hours. 
 
 '' Yours truly, 
 
 ''P. B." 
 
 The deliberate brazen impudence of this 
 answer gave Arthur a deeper insight into 
 Philip's nature than he had hitherto possessed. 
 He left the house with indignant rage, and
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 221 
 
 determined never to set foot in it again. 
 What a scandalously false assertion that they 
 had been drinking the night before ! And 
 how insulting was the concluding consola- 
 tion ! 
 
 Had Arthur been of a designing and selfish 
 disposition, this action of Philip's would have 
 produced in him little of the surprise that 
 now over^vhelmed him. But his very can- 
 dour and sincerity were now the gates through 
 which a flood of sorrow entered his soul. 
 
 When he returned home he realized more 
 fully than before how completely he had set 
 his heart on Flora Wentworth, and how bitter 
 was the disappointment of refusal. It was, 
 in truth, the first great trial of his life, his 
 first draught of the cup of sorrow. 
 
 Hearing as he did from the Marshfields 
 and the Silversnakes frequent reports as to 
 the preparations for Flora's wedding, his in- 
 jured feelings were constantly receiving new 
 wounds, whereby he was wrought up to so 
 acute a state of mental suffering that he 
 determined to absent himself for a while 
 from the scene of his rival's success and
 
 222 CAN IT BE TRUEl 
 
 happiness. He invited O'Brien to go with 
 him to Norway for a few weeks, in the fond 
 hope of escaping the sight and even the news 
 of the wedding. 
 
 O'Brien willingly accepted his invitation, 
 so without delay they started on their tour. 
 But before his departure Arthur sent Flora a 
 present of a magnificent bracelet of brilliants 
 and rubies, accompanied by a note express- 
 ing in tender terms his sincere wishes for her 
 future happiness.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 It must not be supposed that Flora received 
 either Arthur's present or note without a 
 pang. She was of so kind and sympathetic 
 a nature, that to see any fellow-creature in 
 sorrow was misery to her, and much more so 
 when the afflicted person was one towards 
 whom she entertained a feeling of partiality. 
 She had always liked Arthur, and was deeply 
 distressed on hearing from him the account 
 of Philip's strange, and to her inexplicable, 
 behaviour; nor would she have forgiven the 
 latter had he not possessed complete mastery 
 over her feelings, and had he not justified 
 himself by the same plea with which he jus- 
 tified his conduct to Arthur. 
 
 "My dearest Flora," he said, ''do not
 
 224 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 waste a thought on Challoner. The evening 
 before we both proposed we were talking of 
 you. I knew that he admired you, and I said 
 jestingly something about your being suited 
 to each other. I did not mean It, and should 
 not have said it, but one does not always 
 weigh one's words exactly. As to my telling 
 him that I had no intention of proposing to 
 you, it is utterly false. The fact is, he had 
 been taking rather more wine than was good 
 for him, and next morning he had but a 
 confused recollection of our conversation- 
 You may rest assured that his account of it 
 was a mistake from beginning to end. Do 
 not think of it any more, and, above all, do 
 not believe that I ever could have said that I 
 did not love you." 
 
 These words banished Flora's misgivings, 
 and her Idol reigned supreme over her heart. 
 She doubted neither his faith nor his sincerity,, 
 and would not listen to Mrs. Ford or to any 
 other person who warned her against him. 
 
 There was, indeed, much that was dazzling 
 in PhlHp. Apart from his Immense fortune, 
 he possessed qualities, neither deep nor
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 225 
 
 estimable, but, nevertheless, calculated to 
 make him attractive to many. Even Mrs. 
 Ford relented somewhat towards him, espe- 
 cially when she saw the magnificent presents 
 he made his bride, the priceless jewels and 
 the invaluable lace. 
 
 Lady Marshfield's triumphant delight in 
 the brilliant marriage her dear Flora was 
 about to make, knew no bounds. She called 
 daily, sometimes several times a day, and was 
 never weary of extolling Philip's lavish gifts, 
 and of telling Flora how happy and enviable 
 was her lot. 
 
 The fifteenth of June, the day fixed for the 
 wedding, was drawing near. Mr. Wentworth, 
 Flora's former guardian, came up to town to 
 give her away ; the splendid trousseau was 
 nearly ready, and Lady Marshfield was in the 
 highest spirits. 
 
 Flora's dressing-room would have delighted 
 a painter's eye, strewn as it was with the 
 costliest productions of Europe and Asia, 
 and the tables covered with cases containing 
 flashing diamonds, blood-red rubies, and long 
 strings of exquisite pearls. Her refined 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 type of beauty harmonized admirably with 
 her sumptuous surroundings. This was Lady 
 Marshfield's reflection as she gazed on the 
 graceful girl. She thought her the perfection 
 of loveliness, and congratulated herself on 
 having been the means whereby Flora entered 
 a sphere for which she was so pre-eminently 
 fitted. 
 
 While Philip was paying homage to Flora 
 by procuring her every luxury that wealth 
 could purchase and art devise, Arthur, in the 
 mountains of Norway and the rocks of 
 Scandinavia, was consuming his heart with 
 the memory of his love, and from day to day 
 feehng more keenly his loss. Loss it was, 
 although he had never possessed the object 
 of his desire. Loss it was, although he had 
 never owned the heart which now belonged 
 to another. The vision of Flora haunted him 
 in the forests of the North, and was present 
 to him on the billows of the sea. No distance, 
 and assuredly no time, could ever diminish 
 the charm or break the spell. As night fell 
 he perceived her, and as morning dawned he 
 thought only of her. The memory of her
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 227 
 
 was delicious sorrow and exquisite pain ; it 
 was encircled with a halo of grief, and 
 sanctified with a passionate tribute of devo- 
 tion. He might divert himself with passing 
 through strange countries and distant climes, 
 but the supreme place in his heart would still 
 be held by her. To avoid the sight of his 
 rival's triumph he repaired to the North, but 
 to avoid the triumph of love in his soul was 
 beyond his power. Nor did he wish it ; he 
 was far from desiring not to feel the painful 
 emotions that overcame him. When the first 
 shock was over, he derived a strange sensation, 
 akin to pain and yet not unmingled with plea- 
 sure, from the intensity of his passion. It 
 supplied him with a perennial fountain of 
 thought, it gave him a companion in solitude, 
 it cast a new light on the world, and made 
 him see it in another shape than before. 
 
 O'Brien was a great solace to him in this 
 frame of mind. He was sympathetic and yet 
 cheerful, and entered thoroughly into all his 
 views and feelings. He was of opinion that 
 Arthur did well to absent himself from 
 England for the present. Everyone would
 
 228 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 have agreed with him on this point, but, un- 
 fortunately, Arthur was destined to behold 
 the scene from which he had so strongly 
 wished to escape. 
 
 Sir Alexander wrote to him now and then, 
 and in one of his letters he informed him that 
 the wedding was to take place on the fifth of 
 June. This day was originally chosen, but 
 later on, for Flora's convenience, it was post- 
 poned until the fifteenth, and of this circum- 
 stance Arthur did not hear. When the 
 momentous fifth was over, he was seized with 
 a restless mood, and nothing would satisfy 
 him but to return to England without delay.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ^' Who would have thought two months ago 
 that I should be married to-day ? " 
 
 These words were said by Philip on the 
 morning of the fifteenth of June to Sir 
 Alexander Marshfield^ his best man, as they 
 were w^aiting for the carriage to take them to 
 church. 
 
 "Not I, for one/' replied Marshfield, 
 laughing. 
 
 '' I should think not," said Philip. '' I am 
 as much surprised as you are to find myself 
 in this position. Of course, I should have 
 had to marry some day or other, but I did not 
 think it would be so soon."
 
 230 CAN IT BE TRUEl 
 
 '' In your case It is not ' better late than 
 never,' " said Marsh field. 
 
 '^ I can scarcely believe it myself," said 
 Philip ; "' but I suppose in a few hours I 
 shall be convinced. I have to thank Chal- 
 loner for this." 
 
 '^ It is a pity," said Sir Alexander, "' that 
 he is not here to receive your thanks." 
 
 '' He is cooling himself in the snows of 
 Norway," replied Philip, in a mocking tone ; 
 '' for my part I wish he were at the North 
 Pole." 
 
 '' What good would his residence there do 
 you ? " asked the other. 
 
 '' Do you think I want him dangling round 
 Flora after what has passed ?" Philip asked, 
 rather sharply. '' What the devil would the 
 fellow be doing? I know him better than 
 you do. I wish he and George Vane would 
 emigrate to some out-of-the-way place and 
 never come back." 
 
 '* I thought you Hked Vane," said Sir 
 Alexander. 
 
 *' I neither like nor dislike him ; but he is
 
 CAN IT BE TRUEl 231 
 
 always in debt, for ever in difficulties, and per- 
 petually asking his friends to lend him money. 
 Challoner is rich enough now ; why can't 
 he ask him, and leave me in peace ? I am 
 not the only rich man in the world." 
 
 Philip was in a singular mood on his 
 wedding day. An impatient memory of the 
 past, an uneasy anticipation of the future, an 
 irrritating sense of his own faults combined 
 to nettle his pride and sharpen his temper. 
 He was ready to fall foul of everybody. Sir 
 Alexander perceived this, and said as little as 
 possible. 
 
 It was Philip's determination to have his 
 wedding as splendid as wealth could make it, 
 and the brilliancy of the scene in the church 
 was such as to satisfy even his exacting taste. 
 Flora was ablaze with the jewels he had given 
 her, and her beauty and grace were the 
 admiration of all present ; the eight brides- 
 maids were scarcely inferior to her in attrac- 
 tions. Lady Marshfield appeared in full 
 magnificence, and the church was thronged 
 with the greatest and noblest of the land.
 
 232 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 As he passed down the aisle of the church 
 with his wife on his arm, when the ceremony 
 was over, he was indeed, as he had cause to 
 be, elated with joyous pride. Flora and he 
 were the centre of this splendid function ; all 
 eyes were fixed on him with envy, on her 
 with admiration ; he had eclipsed his peers 
 and baffled his rivals. What more complete 
 gratification could he ever experience ? 
 
 Flora was supremely happy ; her love for 
 Philip was profound ; and she firmly believed 
 that this day was to be the opening of a 
 blissful future. 
 
 The breakfast was to be at Lady Marsh- 
 field's house, and a brilliant company had 
 assembled there in expectation of the bridal 
 party. But they were destined to a painful 
 surprise and a dire alarm. 
 
 The carriage containing Philip and Flora 
 had nearly arrived at its destination when it 
 encountered another, the horses of which had 
 taken fright, and were tearing along at a 
 furious pace. They dashed violently into 
 Philip's equipage, smashing the windows, and
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 233 
 
 liurllng It to the ground. The coachman was 
 thrown with terrific force from the box, the 
 horses reared, the spectators cried out, a 
 crowd assembled in a moment, and some 
 courageous men had the presence of mind to 
 stop the horses and to succour the injured. 
 From the carriage which had caused the 
 accident none other alighted than Arthur 
 Challoner, breathless with agitation, and 
 eager to come to the rescue. He had 
 returned from the Continent that morning, 
 believing that the event, the cause of so much 
 sorrow to him, had been over some days 
 before. How great was his bewildered 
 wonder on seeing rescued from the shattered 
 carriage the bleeding^ form of Flora in bridal 
 attire ! 
 
 Amazement deprived him of speech for 
 some moments ; then, with a sudden impulse, 
 he rushed forward, exclaiming — 
 '' Is she saved ? Is she saved ? " 
 No answer forthcomino^ his blood froze 
 within him at the idea that the worst might 
 have happened. Philip, less injured than
 
 234 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 Flora, was raising her up, assisted by several 
 spectators. Intent upon their task, they 
 paid no heed to the questioner. Again he 
 cried — 
 
 ''Is she saved?" 
 
 PhiHp, recognizing the voice, looked up, 
 and it was now his turn to be astonished. 
 
 " What brings you here ? " he gasped. 
 
 Without replying, Arthur seized Flora's 
 hand. She had lost consciousness, but her 
 pulse was still beating. With a jealous 
 movement, Philip dashed aside Arthur's arm, 
 and said he could assist her himself. It was 
 a painful sight to see the beautiful girl. In 
 her bridal white satin, her veil and her jewels, 
 lying on the road, bleeding and bespattered 
 with mud. Fortunately, Lady Marshfield's 
 house was only a few hundred yards from the 
 scene of the disaster ; and Arthur, in spite of 
 Philip's protestations, helped him to carry her 
 thither. 
 
 Words cannot describe the emotions felt 
 by those assembled for a joyous banquet 
 when they saw the blood-stained and inani-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 235 
 
 mate form of her whom they had expected to 
 welcome in all the fulness of beauty and 
 life. 
 
 She was carried up to a bedroom past an 
 inquiring throng, whose festive apparel was in 
 strange contrast with their pale and startled 
 faces. Lady Marshfield was in hysterics, and 
 had completely lost her presence of mind. 
 Sir Alexander could do nothing but utter in- 
 coherent exclamations. Mrs. Silversnake 
 and her daughter, and Arabella Clarke, who 
 were among the company, suggested fifteen or 
 twenty doctors for whom it would be advis- 
 able to send. Mrs. Ford was the only person 
 who preserved a certain degree of coolness 
 and promptitude. She assumed the com- 
 mand of the frightened house ; she sent for 
 doctors and surgeons ; she tried to quiet the 
 wild apprehensions that were circulating ; in 
 short, she did her utmost at that trying junc- 
 ture. 
 
 The doctors arrived, and, to the relief of 
 all, pronounced Flora's injuries not dangerous. 
 Arthur was relieved beyond expression on
 
 236 CAN IT BE TRUE 7 
 
 hearing this opinion ; and Phihp, who had 
 been in great suspense, heaved a sigh expres- 
 sive of the mental strain he had undergone. 
 It was a curious sight to see these two men 
 in the same room on such an occasion. 
 Phihp married to the woman Arthur loved ; 
 Arthur the unexpected spectator of the 
 bridal party, and the thrilling disaster. 
 Arthur was too humane to show any resent- 
 ment in his manner to Philip, and the latter 
 was too well versed in worldly ways to betray 
 either embarrassment or uneasiness. 
 
 As Philip's misgivings about Flora's danger 
 were dispelled, his displeasure at all his plans 
 and arrangements being disturbed became 
 very marked. He was harsh and irritable 
 to those around him, and at nightfall returned 
 to his house in an angry and disappointed 
 mood, leaving orders that he was to be 
 apprised should any change for the worse 
 take place in Flora's condition. 
 
 Arthur required all the assurances of Mrs. 
 Ford and the doctors before he could set his 
 mind at rest that Flora was not in danger,
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 237 
 
 and before he could bring himself to leave 
 Lady Marshfi eld's house. The excitement, 
 not only of the accident, but also of the 
 singular meeting, produced such perturbation 
 within him that he passed a restless and 
 sleepless night, and when the hour was suffi- 
 ciently advanced the first thing he did was 
 to send a messenger to inquire how the 
 patient was progressing. To his intense joy 
 the answer was favourable ; she had passed 
 a tolerable night, and the injuries were less 
 serious than at first they seemed. 
 
 The account of this startling termination 
 to so brilliant a wedding was rapidly spread, 
 and appeared next morning with ample details 
 in the newspapers. But the most extraordi- 
 nary version of the affair was that which 
 originated with Mrs. Silversnake. Though 
 it did not reach the general public through 
 the medium of the press, it was circulated 
 with amazing rapidity among her acquaint- 
 ances. The way in which she communicated 
 it to her intimates was pretty much in the 
 following style : —
 
 238 CAN IT BE TRUE'i 
 
 '^ You have heard of the terrible accident 
 that happened to Mr. and Mrs. Beverley on 
 their wedding-day ? I had the misfortune to 
 witness it, and the happiness of being of 
 some use to the sufferer afterwards. I never 
 saw anything so dreadful in all my life. I 
 thought they were all killed. They escaped 
 as if by a miracle. The fright nearly proved 
 fatal to Lady Marshfield. If it had not been 
 for me I really believe she would have fainted ; 
 but I gave her my scent-bottle, and she re- 
 vived. Of course, you know that the carriage 
 that caused the accident belonged to Mr. 
 Challoner, the young man who recently came 
 into a large fortune ; and, of course, you are 
 aware that he was Mr. Beverley's rival in the 
 affections of Miss Wentworth. He was, 
 however, rejected for the wealthier suitor. 
 Now, I leave it to you to imagine what his 
 feelings were on finding himself thus slighted. 
 My husband is very intimate with Mr. Chal- 
 loner, and likes him vastly, and so do I ; but 
 we all know what resentment is that springs 
 from disappointed love. I would be the last
 
 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 239 
 
 person to breathe a word against him ; never- 
 theless, I cannot conceal the fact that I have 
 formed suspicions, which I trust are un- 
 founded. I hope you will not repeat to any- 
 body what I am about to say. Now, pray 
 observe : The carriage belonged to him ; it 
 was his rival's wedding-day ; he had returned 
 from the Continent only a few hours pre- 
 viously; and just as they are driving up to 
 the house where the breakfast is to be held, 
 his carriage dashes into theirs, and an acci- 
 dent, all but fatal, is the result. Now, I ask, 
 what do you gather from these circum- 
 stances ? Does it appear to you to be 
 chance or design ? I would never even re- 
 motely suggest such a thought if the events, 
 when put together, did not force it invincibly 
 upon me. I rely on you not to say a word 
 about it to anybody ; but tell me whether 
 you yourself can refrain from looking upon 
 the occurrence in the same light ? I was 
 present when he helped Mr. Beverley to 
 carry the poor sufferer into the house. I 
 scrutinized his face, and it wore an expres-
 
 240 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 sion which I shudder to recall. It was the 
 very embodiment of hatred and revenge. I 
 may be wrong, I may be totally mistaken ; 
 but we know what things people do when 
 their passions are roused, and I regret to say 
 that I think there is cause for the strongest 
 suspicion." 
 
 This suspicion she communicated in the 
 strictest confidence to about fifty or sixty 
 people ; and the consequence was that the 
 opinion gained ground that the accident was 
 brought on by Arthur's diabolical vindictive- 
 ness. Sensation-mongers and romantic 
 young ladies seized the idea eagerly ; and 
 he was ere long the centre of as thick a mass 
 of fable as gathered over the memory of his 
 Royal namesake of the Round Table. Some 
 people affirmed that he drew a revolver, and 
 was about to fire at Flora as she lay sense- 
 less, and was only prevented by Philip rush- 
 ing forward and wresting it from his grasp. 
 Others discovered that he had been from his 
 childhood of a turbulent and dangerous 
 character. They related how he had threa-^
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 241 
 
 tened '' to do " for his guardian, and how he 
 had actually stabbed one of his schoolfellows. 
 But worse remained behind. It was asserted 
 by some, who professed to be well informed, 
 that he had obtained his large fortune by 
 forging a will, and that the fact was well 
 known to several persons at San Francisco, 
 whose interest, however, was best served by 
 their silence. 
 
 If Mrs. Silversnake wished to set the ball 
 of calumny rolling, she fully had her desire. 
 It is not impossible that such really was her 
 intention. She was piqued with Arthur for 
 showing no symptom of falling in love with 
 her daughter, an event on which she had set 
 her heart. It is quite certain that she was 
 by no means a woman to utter so far-fetched 
 a suspicion unless prompted to do so by 
 malice. Her mind was too clear and acute 
 to entertain the absurd notions she pro- 
 fessed. 
 
 While she was so busily employed in 
 spreading these rumours. Lady Marshfield 
 and Mrs. Ford were devoting their time and 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 attention to Flora. Though her injuries were 
 not dangerous, she required great care, and, 
 above all, had to be kept perfectly quiet. 
 When she regained consciousness her first 
 thought was for Philip's safety ; and when 
 he came to her bedside and told her that he 
 had not been injured her delight was indes- 
 cribable. She desired to have him constantly 
 beside her — a proof of affection which he did 
 not at all relish, as he infinitely preferred 
 going to his club and other places of amuse- 
 ment to moping in her room. He withdrew 
 with as good a grace as he could, and paid 
 her as few visits as possible. But, although 
 he was so negligent of her during her illness, 
 he was very eager for her recovery, and 
 counted the days until he could proceed with 
 her on their honeymoon. 
 
 Arthur's solicitude continued unabated, and 
 numerous were the inquiries he sent after her 
 health. He was thankful to hear the favour- 
 able reports, but many other considerations 
 gave him keen pain. He heard from Mrs. 
 Ford how little devotion Philip was showing,
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 243 
 
 and it was a harrowing reflection to him that 
 Flora now belonged to a man who did not 
 value her as he would have done. He took 
 little delight in his usual pursuits and plea- 
 sures, and it required all the efforts of O'Brien 
 and George Vane to prevent him from passing 
 his days in seclusion and melancholy reveries 
 — a state from which they determined to 
 rescue him — O'Brien out of consideration for 
 his peace of mind, and Vane because he 
 wished his friend to launch into pleasures in 
 which he was sure to have a share. 
 
 As long as Flora was suffering from the 
 effects of the accident his mind was too 
 uneasy to allow him to follow their advice, 
 but when she was sufflciently recovered to 
 leave town with Philip, he plunged with 
 desperate energy into every sort of gaiety 
 and dissipation. He felt the wound rankling 
 in his breast, and determined to stifle it with 
 reckless riot. 
 
 One evening he went to a dance at Mrs. 
 Silversnake's with O'Brien and Georore Vane. 
 He had not been feeling well all day, and as
 
 244 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 he entered the house, O'Brien remarked to 
 him that he seemed upset. 
 
 '' It is nothing," said Arthur. '' It will 
 pass off." 
 
 But in spite of this assurance it was as 
 much as he could do to keep his feet as the 
 hours advanced. One of the guests was 
 Miss Parsons, Flora's friend. With her he 
 danced, and was happy to be able to 
 exchange some words about the idol of 
 his heart. She subsequently danced with 
 O'Brien, and Arthur was interested to observe 
 that they seemed to take a great fancy to 
 each other. He felt, however, so ill that 
 during the supper he was scarcely conscious 
 of what he was doing. His eyes seemed to 
 be set on fire by the lights ; his brain was 
 confused and excited ; the heat of the rooms 
 produced a burning sensation all over his 
 frame, succeeded by intense chill and shiver- 
 ing. His utmost energy was requisite to sus- 
 tain him until his departure, and by the time he 
 reached his own house he was in a high fever, 
 which increased alarmingly during the night.
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 245 
 
 His doctor was summoned without delay, 
 and pronounced it to be a case of brain fever. 
 O'Brien hastened to his bedside, and was 
 constantly in attendance upon him until he 
 was out of danger. For weary days and 
 nights poor Arthur lay in the splendid house 
 he had only recently fitted up for himself, 
 prostrate of body and wandering in mind. 
 
 The mental and physical excitement he had 
 gone through the last few months, the poig- 
 nant grief and the sudden shock, the passion- 
 ate intensity of his love, and the subsequent 
 frantic diversions Into which he threw him- 
 self, were, united, too baneful in their power 
 for his constitution to resist. He collapsed 
 suddenly and with terrible completeness. 
 
 It was harrowing to O'Brien to have to 
 listen to his delirious words. All the events 
 of the past year hurried In wild chaos through 
 his mind. His sudden accession to wealth, 
 his love for Flora, his friendship towards 
 PhlHp so treacherously betrayed, his agony, 
 his voyage to Norway, the wedding, and the 
 accident, all claimed their share in his in-
 
 246 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 coherent, feverish wandering. At times he 
 would fancy that he had attained his wishes, 
 that he was happy with Flora, and that she 
 was beside him ; but soon the pleasing vision 
 would fade, like the chimera it was, and 
 would give place to wilder and darker fancies. 
 He would cry out against Philip, and de- 
 nounce him as the cause of his misery, and 
 then his mind would revert to the snowy 
 mountains of Norway, and another train of 
 visions would arise. 
 
 '' Why do they keep Flora away from 
 me?" he moaned. ''Is she not mine, and 
 am not I hers ? From the first day I saw 
 her I felt she must be mine. Why are the 
 horses running away ? Stop them ! Stop 
 them ! " 
 
 His eyes dilated with horror at the scene 
 his imagination conjured up. 
 
 '' There ! It is done ! We are lost, and she 
 is killed ; I have killed her. I must escape ; I 
 cannot stay in Norway ; I must go home. I 
 have had so much to do since I came into my 
 fortune."
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 247 
 
 He moved his head unquietly on the pillow 
 and sighed and groaned. 
 
 Then came a pause, during which he 
 seemed to be fixing his thoughts on some 
 terror-striking object. 
 
 '' For ever, gone for ever, lost to me for 
 ever ! Yes, we all are lost in a wilderness. 
 Look at those mountains and rocks how they 
 frown upon us ! She is on the other side, but 
 I cannot cross them. I am tied down, a 
 prisoner, and they are burning my body. 
 Philip laughs at me — well he may. I see his 
 mocking face. Why do you wish me to stay 
 in Norway ? I must return to England ; I am 
 not going to be kept in obscurity as in my 
 old days at Exeter. My house is ready, and 
 Flora calls it ' home.' How happy we shall be 
 together ! Only a few days' patience, I have 
 suffered so much, I can bear to wait. I 
 never expected to have the wealth I now 
 enjoy, but why is the night so dark? " 
 
 Such were the outpourings of his wounded 
 spirit and fevered brain during the long hours 
 of his delirium. It pained O'Brien that the
 
 248 CAN IT BE TR UE ? 
 
 most intimate secrets of his heart should be 
 thus revealed to the curiosity of his household, 
 and he endeavoured to be as much about the 
 sufferer as possible ; but he was frequently 
 compelled to be absent, and during those 
 intervals he grieved that others should over- 
 hear his wanderings. 
 
 Arthur's illness was dangerous and long, 
 but one morninor on awakinor his mind was 
 no longer involved in obscurity. The doctor 
 was beginning to apprehend that it might be 
 permanently affected, so serious were the 
 symptoms ; great, therefore, was his relief on 
 descrying the glimmering of returning reason. 
 The prostration of the general system was 
 extreme, and a long time elapsed before his 
 strength was in any degree restored. Had 
 he not had youth and a sound constitution on 
 his side, he would not have risen from his 
 bed, and the earth would ere long have 
 covered Philip's rival and victim. 
 
 Gradually he revived, and could take 
 interest in what was going on around him. 
 He could appreciate and express his grati-
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE 2 249 
 
 tude for O'Brien's devoted attention; he 
 could gaze with pleasure on the sky and 
 clouds visible from his window ; he could 
 begin to take stronger nourishment, and the 
 disastrous crisis through which he had passed 
 was receding and leaving him, though suffer- 
 ing, not destroyed. 
 
 George Vane had kept aloof from him 
 during this trying time, and did not venture 
 into his presence until he was quite restored. 
 The contrast between his conduct and that 
 of O'Brien was very marked. Unfortunately 
 for Arthur, O'Brien, about the time of his 
 recovery, obtained an appointment in India, 
 and was obliged to take his departure. It 
 was a great grief to Arthur to lose him just 
 at this moment ; but the event could not be 
 postponed, and O'Brien went, and with him 
 departed Arthur's good genius. 
 
 He was now left to the baleful atmosphere 
 of George Vane's and Sir Alexander's in- 
 terested friendship ; and, delicate as he still 
 was, can we wonder that he relied unduly on 
 them for support ? He did so, and allowed
 
 250 CAN IT BE TRUE? 
 
 them to enter so far into his confidence as, 
 in stronger and happier days, he would as- 
 suredly not have done. 
 
 During his convalescence he was oc- 
 casionally visited by Lady Marshfield, and 
 from her he received sympathy, comfort, and, 
 above all, tidings of Flora. She and her 
 husband had been to France and Switzerland 
 during their honeymoon ; they had now re- 
 turned to town, but intended going abroad 
 again for the winter. Arthur was glad to- 
 hear that Flora was in good health and 
 spirits, and that she seemed perfectly happy 
 with Philip. Their house had been splendidly 
 renovated, and they were entertaining their 
 friends with sumptuous balls and parties. 
 
 Arthur wondered whether Flora's thoughts 
 ever reverted to him ; whether his form ever 
 rose before her mind's eye ; whether her 
 heart ever felt an aching regret that he had 
 been rejected. 
 
 He would have given all he possessed to 
 gaze upon her again. But this was impossible, 
 and with a sigh he looked on the dreary reality
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE? 251 
 
 that surrounded him, and endeavoured to find 
 in friendship the solace that was denied him 
 by love. 
 
 As he regained strength, he was able to 
 see more of his acquaintances, and to give 
 them dinners which they all considered highly 
 enjoyable. He had a first-rate chef, his 
 wines were of the oldest and choicest, his 
 house was handsome, and he himself had the 
 art of pleasing and entertaining his guests. 
 
 Among those who were most frequently 
 seen at his house was Lord Proudham, whose 
 name the reader may remember to have heard 
 from the obsequious Smilie. Lord Proudham 
 was a young man who had recently come into 
 his title and fortune, and whose love of plea- 
 sure was only equalled by his extravagance. 
 He made Arthur's acquaintance through Sir 
 Alexander, and thought him very gentlemanly 
 and agreeable. A new friend always had an 
 immense attraction for him, but as a rule his 
 liking began to wane as the individual lost 
 the gloss of novelty. However, he was now 
 at the height of his friendship for Arthur, and
 
 252 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 
 
 had formed a little scheme for their mutual 
 enjoyment, which was as follows — 
 
 Arthur had been advised by the doctors to 
 seek a warmer climate before the winter came 
 on, partly for change of scene after his 
 dangerous illness, partly because it would be 
 wise for him to avoid the rigour of an English 
 winter. Lord Proudham recommended him 
 to follow their counsel, and suggested that he 
 should go with him and with Sir Alexander to 
 Monte Carlo, where he could have every ad- 
 vantage of climate and plenty of amusement 
 besides. 
 
 '' Nothing in the world could be better for 
 you," he said. " I shall be delighted to have 
 you with me ; Marshfield will be in his 
 element ; lots of my friends will be there ; it 
 will be most enjoyable. If you don't like it, 
 you can easily move on further south ; but 
 you are sure to like it. As for me, I don't 
 play much ; and you needn't play at all ; 
 Marshfield will make up for our inactivity. I 
 won't take a refusal ; I have made up my 
 mind that you shall be one of our party, and
 
 CAN IT BE TRUE ? 253 
 
 the affair is settled. We think of starting 
 early in November ; will that suit you ? " 
 
 Arthur replied that it would, and thanked 
 him for wishing to have his company. 
 
 When George Vane heard of this arrange- 
 ment, he gave Arthur so many hints that he 
 would like to join them, and alluded so openly 
 to the fact that his finances would not allow 
 him to defray his expenses, that Arthur 
 invited him to come and be his guest, an 
 invitation most eagerly accepted. And so it 
 was arranged that they should start for 
 Monte Carlo during the first week in Novem- 
 ber ; and the results of their stay at that 
 place we shall relate in the following 
 chapters. 
 
 END OF VOL. I,