m^;,i^^^ ^ J{ ~ :^y'm^'y, "■ '\fv 9> :Z>3);\ - Ms >— >>. -Z^. X '^ ' \\ .^ :>>> >^:i. i A. :> » ', • > J:^ ^ * \ > ^ ':>:>- ^"j^^ >^, V: ^ ^ ».. r^^a* y; D > ^ >:: wm^' ' DO'-^^^ji m' ::> J) ->:»- \3^ ^^ 3 > ^>^ >:^ ^ < ^ /> 9 >^ i>'- >^^» ^:a^. ^ o )> :>^ >*■ ^ >_^>- j»- •-.. ^ >•.:. ■^. ». ^> .; /■^ ^ >~y xyy>^ >:> ^^>> >> ' ._23>^ ^^ :2)>J> ^3 ^«r>-.^^^-^ ^^ :>3 >i> " -^.3 ^-^ ^!^fcl^ 3 3 ;> ; D "^fc^'^^k ?l ^i^L^^P- >3>!> M £»%a'^ x> >>^^ 3 > >:>^. .r L I B R^ARY OF THE U N IVLR5ITY or ILLI NOI5 GERALD VOL. L NEW THREE-VOLUME NOVELS AT ALL LIBRARIES. " I SAY NO." By Wilkie Collins. THE LOVER'S CREED. By Mrs. Cashel Hoey. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. By SARAH TirLER. BY MEAD AND STREAM. By Charles Gibbon. FOXGLOVE MANOR. By Robert Buchanan. "THE WEARING OP THE GREEN." By Basil. GERALD. By Eleanor C. Price. PHILISTIA. By Cecil Power. PARNELL'S POLLY. By J. T. Trowbridge. (2 vols.) LONDON: CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY. GERALD BY ELEANOR C. PRICE Author of" Valentina" "Mrs, Lancaster's Rival," "The Foreigners," etc. IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. I. Hontrou CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 1885 [ The Ri^ht of Translation is rescrrccf] CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS, CRYSTAL PALACE PRESS. M T ^ v.l'^ TO GERALDINE MAUDE. I OFFER THIS STORY TO YOU, WITHOUT WHOSE HELP IT COULD NOT HAVE BEEN WRITTEN. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/gerald Olpric CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGB THREE COUSINS I CHAPTER n. IN THE CHANCEL 20 CHAPTER HI. CUT SHORT 35 CHAPTER IV. LADY REDCLIFF 49 CHAPTER V. HUGH . . . . . . . - '67 CHAPTER VI. JOHN 83 CHAPTER VII. A LOST CHILD lOI viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE GERALD fane's HOUSE 122 CHAPTER IX. Helen's house 139 CHAPTER X. DOWN INTO THE VALLEY 1 54 CHAPTER XI. AFTER THE RAIN 1 74 CHAPTER XII. MR. GOODALL HAS HIS WAY . . . -194 CHAPTER XIII. TEMPTATION 215 CHAPTER XIV. A WILFUL WOMAN 244 CHAPTER XV. WINTER 272 GERALD CHAPTER I. THREE COUSINS. LiNwooD St. John Is one of the quietest little towns in the south of England. Its only excitements are a county election, a fair once In the year, and any special event In the Eraser family. The Erasers have been squires there for generations, and the London road runs for a long way under the shadow of their high red garden-wall, just outside the town. Between clustering tree-tops one catches a glimpse of weather-beaten, moss- grown old chimneys ; and presently, at a turn VOL. I. B 2 GERALD. in the road, one looks back and sees the great comfortable house itself, set squarely in the midst of lawns and gardens, with sloping meadows much shaded by trees, leading down to a slow, quiet river. Most of Linwood belongs to the Frasers, as well as a good deal of land in the neigh- bourhood. People supposed that Helen Fraser, who 'for a long time was the Squire's only child, would be a great heiress, but in these calculations they reckoned without her father. Helen's mother died while she was still very young, and she was about twelve years old when Mr. Fraser married again. Then came a large family of boys and girls ; then came long bills, bad times, falling rents, and difficulties threatening on all sides. Mrs. Fraser was extravagant, she was also worldly and ambitious, and she did not at all like to THREE COUSINS. 3' meet these troubles by reducing her ex- penses. Mr. Fraser was weak, and did not insist ; so everything went on as usual, except that the little Squire grew smaller, and paler, and more careworn every day, and that Helen, now a fat, placid, pretty creature of two-and-twenty, with long eyelashes and beautiful fair hair, calmly accepted the rich man her stepmother found for her, and on a certain day in April was to be married to Mr. John Goodall. Even her stepmother was surprised, though quite pleased and satisfied. She had never got on very well with Helen, who was not demonstrative, and took no Interest In the younger children. Not that they had quarrelled, for both were good-tempered, but Mrs. Fraser always felt that Helen's marriage would be a happy thing for the whole family. They had met this man in the winter at B 2 4 GERALD. Torquay ; she had taken him up at first for fun, then seeing his admiration of Helen, had encouraged it partly for fun. But things grew serious very soon. The man was rich ; there was nothing against him ; he and Helen, who was an odd girl in some ways, and fond of talking like a Radical, got on remarkably well together. At the end of a month all was settled, and Mr. Fraser gave a reluctant con- sent ; he was fond of his eldest child, and thought a good deal of his pedigree. '' But in times like these, what can you do ? " he said in apology to his nephew. Captain North, who was disturbed, and thought that Helen was throwing herself away. For many years Linwood had not had such an excitement as this — the wedding of its chief young lady. The inhabitants stood about the wide, quiet street, in the light of THREE COUSINS. 5 a yellow sunset, and watched the preparations for a triumphal arch at the churchyard gate, and stared with satisfaction at the Squire's visitors as they drove from the station. Far away from the bustle of arrivals and from all signs of to-morrow's festivity, in a solitary part of the garden, where a grand old cedar stood at the end of a terrace-walk, and overlooked the peaceful view of meadows, and river, and distant hills, now in a glow of gold and purple that deepened every moment, Helen Fraser was having her last talk, as a girl, with the girl-friend who had belonged to her all her life. Helen's head was resting on Theo's shoulder, and Theo's arm was round her, and she was looking down with a sad gravity in her dark eyes which was hardly suited to the occasion. " My dear, what are you doing ?" she said. '* Don't you care for him, then ? " 6 GERALD. '* Sometimes I hate him," said Helen in a whisper. *' I wish I had not been kept away from you all this time. It is too horrid. Actually to think that I have never seen him ! But I can't stand this, Nell, you know. It is not too late to stop it, even now. Come along, we must go to my uncle at once." '' Nonsense, Theo. Don't be silly ; it is a great deal too late." " What ! when you say you hate the man ? " said Theo, frowning. *' You should not take hold of one's words like that. It is only sometimes, when he bothers me, and I have to pretend I like it, or when he is most particularly unlike Hugh and all the rest of one's people. But he is a nice satisfactory old thing, and tremendously kind, and much better, I can tell you, than all your officers that you think so agreeable. Yes, you always THREE COUSINS. 7 used to be held up to me as such a pattern of sense, but I am wiser than you now, Theo." She ended laughing, and glancing up into her cousin's face ; but Theo was not to be so easily pacified. ''Unlike one's own people!" she repeated in low indignant tones. ''Well, I supposed something of the kind, but your Ideas on those subjects are always so funny, that I thought you cared for him in spite of that. You wrote to me as if you cared for him, Helen. Do you know, I think you are very wicked. You are deceiving this man, and yourself, and everybody else." " Except you, dear," said Helen, with pro- voking amiability. " But you take things up, and exaggerate, don't you see. He is quite satisfied, so it doesn't matter, and when you come to stay with me in the autumn, you will see it is all right." 8 GERALD. '' But why did you do it ? " said Theo. " Oh, I don't know. How is one to answer such an absurd question ? As if those things could ever be explained." But she did her best to explain, and Theo listened with thorough sympathy, though with growls of impatience now and then. An old, strong, constant tenderness kept her from being very angry with her cousin, whatever she might do. If these two girls had met now for the first time, it is probable that they would not have made friends. Theo, seeing Helen's weaknesses clearly, would have scorned them and her; and Helen would have shrunk from a person so different from herself in every way. But they had been friends almost from their cradles ; both their mothers had died early, and they had been brought up almost together. Theo's father, too, had died young, and her lot in life would have been a lonely and sad one, THREE COUSINS. 9 if she had not been taken possession of by Colonel North, the kindest of uncles, the brother of her mother and of Helen's. His wife, too, was dead, and he was left with one son, a few years older than these girls, who had gone Into the army and cared very much for his profession. While Helen and Theo were children, they were together a great deal at Lin wood House, but soon after Mr. Fraser married again Colonel North retired from the army, and took Theo to live with him entirely. He did not like Mrs. Fraser, who on her part dis- approved of his way of educating Theo, and thus through the following years, though the cousins still loved each other dearly, they were not so much together, and grew up In very different atmospheres. They had now been separated for some months by Colonel North's Illness. He had 10 GERALD. been ill all the winter, and Theo, his constant companion, could hardly bring herself to leave him, even for Helen's wedding. Perhaps her coming from a house of suffering may partly account for a certain sadness which weighed on Theo at this time. It was not all disap- pointment at Helen's choosing this man, who was evidently unworthy of her ; though that was bad enough, and a subject of melancholy puzzle to Helen's oldest friend. No explana- tion could be really satisfactory. Helen might not care for her stepmother, she might be tired of living at home ; Mr. Goodall might be the kindest and most generous man living, his defects such as would only be minded by foolish little prejudice. It was all very fine ; these were not reasons, to Theo's mind, for marrying Mr. Goodall. No doubt he was very fond of Nell, and Nell liked people to be fond of her; no douut she would be well THREE COUSINS. ii spoilt all her life, never be troubled with money- cares, have every fancy carried out, be treated like a lazy little princess ; all that would suit her thoroughly. At the end of their talk Theo realised that Helen would not on any account have the marriage broken off now, though she could say that she sometimes hated Mr. Goodall. And Theo also realised, with a mental shiver, that her old Helen was dead, or perhaps had never existed, and that her own high-flown ideas on these subjects had better be kept to herself in future. Presently some one came from the house to call Helen, and Theo let her go, and went alone along the terrace, watching the western sky. The sadness of coming twilight seemed to make it right to be sad. Theo had taken off her hat, for her head ached with vexation, and she stood there against the yellow sky, tall and straight and; graceful, her head lifted, 12 GERALD. and her dark eyes looking away into the distance. The curves of her mouth and nose were very handsome, and very proud and scornful ; her cousin once said that he never saw so much scorn in any profile as in Theo's. Her front face was much more amiable, partly from the beauty and softness of her eyes, and it was so at this moment, when Helen no longer needed her sympathy, and had gone away and left her to a solitary fit of disgust. *' Well, Theo, my dear," said a man's voice, soft and grave, and her cousin, Hugh North, came down the terrace steps and joined her. '* Are you hating anybody ? You don't look so cheerful as you ought on this happy occasion." " I don't know about the happiness," said Theo sorrowfully. '' Hate ? Oh yes, I hate the world, and marriage, and men, and women, and money, and all the consequences." THREE COUSINS. 13 *' A good wide sphere," said Hugh, smiling faintly. He was fair, stiffly handsome, and very seldom amused. ** I met Helen just now. Has she given you these nasty feelings ? " As Theo did not answer, he went on after a minute : ** Is she offensively happy, or what is the matter with her 1 " " Everything — nothing," said Theo im- patiently. " She makes me miserable, and I think, Hugh, you might have stopped this at the beginning." ''What! this marriage.'^ It was no affair of mine. I did what I could, you know. I said something to Uncle Dick, but as he was inclined to make the best of it, of course I could say no more. I would not vex myself, Theo, if I were you ; she will do very well, I dare say." "■ You don't feel about it as I do." 14 GERALD. '* Perhaps not. It Is a pity to be too senti- mental on these occasions. They come in the course of nature, and we may as well take them easy. I have heard of much worse marriages than this of Helen's. The man is a stodgy sort of man, and thinks a good deal of his money ; but he's solvent, he's respectable, and appears to be good-tempered. Helen doesn't dislike him, does she ? " *' Could she marry him if she did ? '^ said Theo. The question was asked as much of herself as of Hugh. She did not feel Inclined just then to answer for Helen in any way, and of course she could not tell Hugh what Helen had said. "• No, I don't think she would," said her cousin, after a moment's consideration. "We may trust Helen, I think, to follow her own inclinations. So don't distress yourself. You may find the man better than you expect." THREE COUSINS. 15 '' He Is not a gentleman,'' said Theo, with so much pain In her voice that Captain North smiled again. '' My dear, excuse me, that Is Helen's affair, and you will be wiser If you accept the In- evitable, and don't talk about It. If you pull a long face to-morrow, it will be unkind to Helen, and rude to Mrs. Fraser." The effect of these grave words was to make Theo smile and soften suddenly. Captain North looked at her with approval, which from another man might have been affectionate ad- miration. " Men never understand," she said. '' I will just tell you this. I think we all have something low and something high in our natures, and we may follow one or the other. I think Nell But I won't say any more." *' Better not. I would rather you kept clear of metaphysics. And as to your hard i6 GERALD. judgment of Nell, I'll observe, Theo, that a girl may have a low motive for marrying a duke, and a high motive for marrying a tradesman." "Yes, if the tradesman was poor," said Theo. " Do you think I am so hard on Nell, though ? Poor dear ! I didn't mean to be. Don't let us talk about It any more ; only please do me this favour, Hugh. If you ever see any signs of my following Nell's example, please lock me up in some safe place till I have recovered my senses." " You promise, then," said Hugh very gravely, looking at her under his sleepy eye- lids, " never to marry without my consent." " Yes ; I think you are a good judge of people. I think I may safely promise that," said Theo. " Good-bye." She went away towards the house, and Captain North looked after her till she was THREE COUSINS. 17 hidden among trees. Theo, who from her childhood had regarded him as a kind -elder brother, sometimes prosy and always parti- cular, would have been perfectly astonished at the thoughts and calculations in his mind as he watched her that evening. He was think- ing of a certain wish of his father's, which at first had not been his own, so that he had let time pass on, and he was now thirty-one and Theo twenty-three, without any sign of change in their relations to each other. His father knew that he was not in love with Theo ; he may perhaps have had a story of his own, which was not confided to his father ; but Colonel North knew, and so did he, that he could offer her an affection, already existing and strengthening every year, which might do almost as well. Theo, with her high-f]own ways, was this quiet Hugh's model of a woman ; she was a little wild, and very obstinate, and VOL. I. • c 1 8 GERALD. had been a tomboy in her younger days ; but he rather enjoyed all that, which his father had certainly encouraged, and quite understood the gentleness underneath. He had many safe and excellent opinions, one of which was that cousins ought not to marry ; but yet the idea of Theo's marrying any one else was hardly bearable. Theo was so used to him and his fidgety ways, which she and her uncle often laughed at together, that she would not have been surprised at his anxious consideration of her future, much as his conclusion would have shocked and startled her. Captain North felt very serious that evening. He did not think his father would live long, and then what was to become of Theo ? It was true that she had a grandmother, Lady Redcliff, who might not object to having her for a time, but she was a , horrid, disagreeable old woman, like all the THREE COUSINS. 19 Redcliffs. Theo's father, George Meynell, should be excepted. He was Lord RedcHff s younger son. He ran through all his money, lived a wild life, and died early in consequence of his wildness ; but he was so charming that everybody loved him. Hia death broke his father's heart, and thoroughly soured his mother. She quarrelled with her elder son's wife. He, too, was now dead, and the present Lady Redcliff and her children saw nothing of the grandmother, who had now lost every one she cared for, and lived a savage, solitary life alone in London. The thought of her, as Theo's only resource, was very distressing to Captain North. Yet he could not make up his. mind just yet to ask Theo to marry him. Perhaps, not being a stupid man, he felt some doubt of her answer. c 2 CHAPTER II. IN THE CHANCEL. A WISE woman wrote once, in a letter to somebody who was going to be married : " Congratulation on such occasions seems to me a tempting of Providence. The triumphal- procession air, which, In our manners and customs, Is given to marriage at the outset — that singing of Te Deum before the battle has begun — has, ever since I could reflect, struck me as somewhat senseless and somewhat Impious. If ever one Is to pray, if ever one Is to feel grave and anxious, If ever one Is to shrink from vain show and vain babble, IN THE CHANCEL. 21 surely it is just on the occasion of two human beings binding themselves to one another, for better and for worse, till death part them ; just on that occasion which it is customary only to celebrate with rejoicings, and congratulations, and trousseaux, and white ribbon ! " Theo Meynell did not suppose herself to have a deep, or clever, or reflective mind, but these were very much the feelings which went to sleep with her the night before Helen's wedding, and woke with her the next morning. She sighed, and wished to go to sleep again, but her maid would not allow her to do that ; so with a few yawns and groans she got up, and soon found that in broad daylight, with bells ringing, and sun shining, and a lovely bridesmaid's dress hanging in the wardrobe, it was impossible to keep up these feelings of cynical philosophy. Everything and every- body seemed so happy, though Helen Fraser 22 GERALD. was going to be married to John Goodall, that Theo, in spite of herself, began to feel happy too. She never thought much of her appear- ance, but it was satisfactor)- to know that she was looking particularly well that morning. Combe said so, and Theo saw that she was right. Captain Xorth need not have warned her against pulling a long face on this joyful occasion, for she did not feel at all inclined to do so, and when Helen came to her room a little later, she received her with all the cheerful affection that could have been expected. ''That's a dear old Theo," said Helen, who was in her usual placid spirits. " You look quite jolly this morning. Do you know, Combe, last night in the garden she was scolding me like anything ? " "You don't seem much the worse for it, }^Iiss Helen,'' said Combe, who had come to Theo as her nurse twenty years ago, and had IN THE CHANCEL, 23 stayed with her ever since. She was an im- portant person in Theo's life ; she told her home-truths, and knew all her tempers. Once she said that she would die for Theo, and there came a time when she was not far from proving the truth of her words. Mrs. Combe was an aristocrat in her notions, with a supreme con- tempt for money and all possessions which had not descended at least from a grandfather. She could not for some time get over the shock of Helen's marrying a man who had made his money in pottery works. " It's a style of thing we're not accustomed to," said Combe. " Not for millions and billions would my young lady so demean herself." " Theo dear," said Helen, when Combe was gone away, "you hope I shall be happy, don't you ? And you know quite well that my being married will never make the smallest difference to you ? " 24 GERALD. "How could it?" said Theo. ''Yes, I hope you will be very, very happy." '' I believe you will like him a great deal better than you expect." '' So Hugh told me last night." " Did he ? What a good old fellow ! I wonder if he would care to come and stay with us some day. You might come at the same time, and then you can amuse each other. I shall want you this summer, Theo, or early in the autumn." *' I can't leave Uncle Henry so long^ as he is so ill." '' Oh, he must get better. What a pity he can't be here to-day ! " '' Yes, a dreadful pity ! " " I believe he and John would get on together ; they are both so straightforward. Uncle Henry is simple, like John, and hasn't so many prejudices as some people." IN THE CHANCEL. 25 " You don't hate John this morning ? " " No, not this morning. I am rather In a good temper," said Helen with a pretty smile. " By the way, there's one bore I must tell you about. You know I told you that John had a friend, a nice clergyman, who was going to be his best man. Well, in his letter this morning he says that Mr. Langton is ill, and can't come, and he must bring somebody else Instead." " That doesn't much matter, does It ?" said Theo Indifferently. *' Don't you think so ? You are the person most concerned, for he will have to take you In to breakfast, I suppose, and that was why I told John most particularly that he must bring his very nicest friend." " Thanks ; you need not have bothered him," said Theo, smiling. '' Oh yes, I thought It was best at once to give him the right impression of you. But I 26 GERALD. am afraid he has made rather a mess of it ; men are so stupid. This is what he says : 'When I got Langton's letter I was at my wit's end, for I have very few friends, especially , in London. But this morning I happened to meet young Fane, a colliery manager in our neighbourhood,'" here Helen stole a glance at her cousin, who looked quite unconcerned, " 'and I asked him to come down with me to- morrow. He made some difficulties, but at last consented. He is a nice boy, and I hope you will like him ; though of course we should both have preferred Langton.' Fane is a good name," said Helen after a moment's pause, "but I suppose a colliery manager can't be anybody. I shall know all those terms better presently, though. Do you mind, Theo ? " " Not in the very least," said Theo earnestly. '' I shall never see the man again ; what difference can it possibly make to me '^. " IN THE CHANCEL. 27 Helen looked at her rather oddly. '' None, of course/' she said after a moment. '' But you will be conscious of his existence for this one day, won't you ? " She went away smiling, a little piqued by Theo's grand indifference, and wishing, as she did sometimes, that her pet cousin was more like other girls. But then she would not be old Theo, with all her oddities and originalities, finest when she was most absurd. '' I hope I shall live to see Theo in love," thought Helen. *' Her Ideas about It are so splendid — but the man will want a little courage, poor fellow ! " Helen was In no agitation about herself, that Important day. She made no fuss, or hurry, or delay ; she looked very pretty and quite con- tented, and kissed her stepmother and the children with placid sweetness. Mrs. Fraser had certainly tried to do all honour to Helen's 28 GERALD. marriage. She had asked half the county, and did not show the smallest outward sign of being ashamed of Mr. Goodall. She smiled agreeably on all Linwood, which had assembled in the street leading to the church, with flags, and flowers, and welcomes, and wishes of joy. The sun shone on the crowed in its Sunday clothes, on the children in blue and white who were to throw flowers in the bride's path. All the rejoicing seemed to be very hearty, for though people rather disliked Mrs. Fraser, and laughed a little at the Squire, they all liked Helen, who had a pleasant manner with them, and knew how to admire their babies. The church was old, and low, and dark, with heavy pillars, and high pews blocking up the nave. The chancel w^as of a later date, a high raised space with three or four great perpendicular windows which, having IN THE CHANCEL. 29 lost their ancient glory of colour except a few fragments, let In a full flood of sunshine on the wedding party. This was where Theo first saw her new cousin and his friend, as she, with the other bridesmaids, followed Mr. Fraser and Helen up the church. John Goodall looked much more nervous than his bride. He was a tall young man, rather fat, and very pale, with a short reddish beard and keen, honest dark eyes. He had an expres- sion of the deepest and most anxious solem- nity, which cleared up a little when Helen was actually standing by his side, and the old rector was beginning the service. Theo was glad to feel that she rather liked him, though he gave her a trembling Inclination to smile. It appeared to her that the man was very fond of Helen, and would think a great deal about making her happy. And though he looked solid, he did not look so GERALD. vulgar. Theo perceived that Hugh was right. Though of course very different from Hugh, John Goodall was not of an absolutely inferior creation. Theo had a free way of looking about her at the most inappropriate moments, and not with quick slight glances, but with a grave deliberate stare, which no person could en- counter without feeling it. Mrs. Fraser had often complained of this trick, one. of the results, she said, of Colonel North's system of no education, and copied exactly from him. But Theo unfortunately never troubled herself about Mrs. Fraser's opinion while she w^as a girl, and Mrs. Fraser had now given up as hopeless any idea of training her to better manners, so she stared about her as usual at Helen's wedding, noticing in a vague sort of way the people's dresses, the effects of light and shade, the beauty of Helen's fair bent IN THE CHANCEL. 31 head under her veil, the sturdy breadth of John Goodall's shoulders. She was in one of her most absent moods, but it was a tender mood too ; she did not look at all scornful ; her face was full of gentle thought, not exactly arising from the service, of which she did not hear a word. She was thinking of Nell's childhood and her own, pitying and loving her cousin, perhaps all the more because she had disappointed her. She was thinking also of their talk last night, and pitying Mr. Goodall, and wishing that Nell had not said those things about him. If the man had been much worse than this, surely Nell, having promised to marry him, ought not to have allowed herself to see or mention any defects in him. Poor Nell! Everybody does not see things in the same way, and it now seemed possible that she might be happy after all. Many people in the church that day looked 32 GERALD: at Theo as much as at the bride. There was something so noble and unconscious in the way she stood — closer to Helen than any of the others — the flowers drooping carelessly from her hands, her head held very erect, with her own little air of spirit and splendour. One of the lookers-on said afterwards that she '* took away his breath." Another, that she was **a magnificent young woman." Theo thought of nobody's opinion. She stood a little sideways in the chancel, in a broad sunbeam, and looked about her with the absent, deliberate coolness which so deeply irritated Mrs. Fraser. But the Fates were lying in wait for Theo, and her happy uncon- sciousness did not last long. She had been gazing Intently at one person in the little group near her, and had just roused herself to wonder who he could be. She certainly had never seen him before, at Linwood or IN THE CHANCEL. 33 in the county. He was a very tall young man, taller than the bridegroom, with a dark pale skin, brown hair cut close, and a thin line of moustache which did not hide a rather firmly-set mouth. The upper part of his face was very good, with large, handsome, hazel eyes. He was thin, and looked a little worn, a little ill-tempered, and very like a gentleman. As Theo looked, his rather tired eyes were lifted suddenly and fixed upon her. It was a moment before she, at least, knew how straight and how intently they were staring at each other. Then she slowly dropped her eyes, her whole face and air became scornful, and during the rest of the service she looked about her no more. In the vestry afterwards, she found herself being introduced to Mr. Goodall, who grasped her hand with quite unnecessary warmth. She was also made acquainted with his best man, VOL. I. D 34 GERALD. who bowed and looked shy. They had both written their names as witnesses of the marriage. There they stood for the world to see, on the same sheet of the register — Theodosia Meynell, and Gerald Fane. CHAPTER III. CUT SHORT. Theo of course knew a great many of the wedding guests, and had plenty to do in helping Mrs. Fraser to entertain them. She always liked old people, and she was deep in talk with an old lady about her dogs, having apparently forgotten that there was anybody besides this old lady in the world, and not at all knowing that most people had gone in to breakfast, when she became aware that somebody was standing behind her, and looked up hurriedly once more into the face of Mr. Fane. D 2 36 GERALD. " Oh, are they gone ? " she said, getting up. "I think — will you take Mrs. Campbell, please ? " " No, dear Miss Meynell, certainly not," said Mrs. Campbell with an approving smile. " Nothing so unorthodox. Here is my old friend Colonel Fox coming to take care of me. Theo was satisfied, and gave herself up to Mr. Fane without further difficulty. ** I really forgot," she said, as they went into the dining-room. " Dogs are such a nice subject, and Mrs. Campbell has seven in the house. I don't know, though, whether it is good to scatter one's affections in that way." ** Do you centre yours in one dog .-^ " said Mr. Fane. " Yes. One dog and one horse. I have never been allowed to have any more." CUl SHORT. 37 " But then it is so horrid if the one dies," he said. "It puts them more on the footing of human friends, and that is good," said Theo. *' Why shouldn't we grieve for them ? They give us pleasure enough ; more, I think, than human friends do — dear faithful things ! " " No ; human friends are the best, just because they change, and disappoint one," said Mr. Fane. '' And after all they may live as long as we do ourselves ; the dogs and horses can't, so they are a certain grief —and if you have only one of each " " What do you mean .^ " said Theo, looking at him earnestly. It seemed as if he did not dare to give her more than a glance back. " What do I mean '^. " he repeated in a low voice. " You seem to think that one's friends 38 GERALD. ought to change, and disappoint one. I don't understand." " Nor do I. Only they always do, so it is as well to be hardened. Dogs spoil one with their faithfulness. I suppose that may have been what I meant," he said, looking down and smiling. He was by no means so unconscious as Theo, and had at that moment caught a curious amused look from the bride, whose interest in herself and her husband was not so great as to prevent her from watching her cousin. Gerald Fane was quite quick enough to see and feel the whole state of the case. Since he had taken Theo away from Mrs. Campbell, he had begun to be happy ; till then his whole time had been spent in regretting that he had come. Why could not John Goodall have found one of his own friends ? Gerald had had no idea that the excellent fellow was not marry- CUT SHORT, 39 ing in his own line of life, and he had come for fun, for adventure, for a new experience among a new set of people. Circumstances had made the poor wretch as proud as Lucifer, and, of course, he had not been half an hour in Lin- wood before he found himself in a false position, and was inwardly swearing at his own foolish- ness. As the people came into the church he saw that they were people of his own sort, and not of GoodalFs ; but, of course, they could only regard him as belonging to Goodall. But then Theo came and stood there, and no one else, not even himself, could be thought of after- wards. Now he was sitting close to her, and it was their duty to talk to each other. He could only talk nonsense, and the worst of it was she would not be satisfied. He did not want to talk at all, only to look at her, but that could not be, and perhaps it was only a long absence from civilised society which put such a daring 40 GERALD. thought into his head. It was a good thing after all that she took him quite au s4rie%ix, and went on with the argument. ''Are friends so bad as that? It is a sad way of looking at it," she said. "When I said that dogs gave one more pleasure, I think I meant that one's dog really belongs to one, in a way that no human friend can. But it is very sad to say that one's friends always change, and disappoint one. Sometimes they do — now and then." "About those things we all speak from our own experience," said Mr. Fane. " I have no doubt your friends are faithful to you." " I am fortunate, then," said Theo, half to herself. She was silent for a moment, and then turning away from him, began to talk to some- body on the other side of her. There were no speeches, and Helen very CUT SHORT. 41 soon went away to change her dress. Theo followed her, and the bride found an opportu- nity to say, with a mischievous laugh : *' Well, Theo, how do you like the manager ? " ''Who is the manager?" said Theo. " Why, Mr. Fane. I told you he was manager of a colliery." '' I forgot. Are they all like that ? " " I don't suppose they are all so good- looking," said Helen, much amused. '* Is he good-looking ? He talks nicely about dogs. I must ask him presently whether he likes horses. Perhaps in some ways they are better than dogs." "Well, my dear, don't talk to me about them now. I am not a young man, and I don't want to be amused. I never in my life saw you look so handsome as you did in church, Theo." 42 GERALD, '' Did I ? I'm very sorry. I did not mean to talk about dogs, but what I meant was, are all the managers gentlemen ? " '' I don't know, my dear ; ask Mr. Fane himself," said Helen laughing. " Now here's mamma, so we can't say any more, and you are no good to-day, Theo. I never saw you so dreamy." Gerald Fane, meanwhile, was standing about downstairs, keeping apart from other people, -and wondering how much more he should see of Miss Fraser's beautiful brides- maid. There was to be a dance that evening, and he had been asked to stay the night. He wondered how many times she would dance with him. As he stood with his eyes on the ground, glanced at curiously by different people, but taking no notice of them in return, he was resolving that to-day and to-night, for once, he would be happy. He would forget all the CUT SHORT. 43 horrors and troubles of which life was so full, and would think it was six years ago, before he knew the meaning of hard work and anxiety. She of course knew nothing of his position. Why should she ? Perhaps they would never meet again ; it would be best not, as far as he was concerned, but that thought interfered horribly with present enjoyment. Then Gerald, who was not without a sense of the ridiculous, smiled at himself for a hopeless fool, and thought how all these people would laugh, and laugh with reason, if they knew that a stray pauper like himself had fallen desperately in love with Miss Meynell. Then the ladies came downstairs, and the carriage drove up, and there was a great confu- sion. John Goodall came up to young Fane, wished him good-bye, and thanked him in a jolly sort of manner, nearly wringing his hand off "We shall meet again in the Midlands," 44 GERALD. said John cordially. Gerald Fane forgot to be grateful, and wished that the Midlands were in the middle of Africa. As for Theo, she took no notice whatever of the best man, standing rather dismally in the background, but fulfilled all her own duties of saying good-bye, and flinging rice, with an odd mixture of energy and dreaminess, and then, when they had driven off and all was over, suddenly turned round to her cousin,- Captain North, and went away with him into the library. The room was large, and dark, and still, with small red flames dancing in the grate. A sense of peace and rest came over Theo ; the quietness was so pleasant to her that she forgot at first to ask Hugh w^hat he wanted. She leaned back in a large arm-chair, and smoothed with both hands the creamy satin and lace of her gown. CUT SHORT. 45 "Do you like these clothes?" she said. *' Am I to wear it all day ? What is the matter, Hugh ? " Captain North was not looking at her or her gown. His eyes were fixed on the hearth- rug at his feet ; he was frowning a little, and stroking his thick moustache. " Well, Theo," he said, " every one else is in such a fuss that I thought I had better tell you myself. Did you see — just before breakfast — they brought me a telegram '^. " " Hugh ! " She started from her chair and came towards him, turning as white as her gown. She terrified Captain North, who thought he was breaking bad news most considerately. " Don't be frightened," he said. '' Don't look like that, Theo. It's only that I don't like asking you to come away to-day. In fact I don't think I ought. It will spoil the party, 46 GERALD. but I couldn't somehow go myself without telling you." " Uncle Henry Is worse?" said Theo, see- ing by his calmness that her first fear was not true. " May I see the telegram ? " It was crumpled up In her cousin's hand. He unfolded It, and read the few words : " Colonel North worse. Better come by next train." '' From Dr. Page," he said. '' Well, you see, Theo, I shall have to start In three-quarters of an hour — and of course one doesn't know — and I really think you had better stay quietly here till you hear from me. I rather wish now that we had not both left him, but that's no use. You will do as I ask you '^. You and Combe couldn't possibly be ready In three- quarters of an hour." " Oh, Indeed. I wish I hadn't left him," cried Theo In bitter grief. *' I never would, CUT SHORT. 47 for any one but Helen. You don't think I could stay here and dance and make a fool of myself all the evening, while he will be wanting me and asking for me ? You know he will. Three-quarters of an hour! I could be ready in one, and I shall be thankful to get away from this wedding. I think weddings are the most dreadful, miserable inventions " '' Very well," said Captain North gravely. " But if you are really going, give Combe as much time as you can. I will tell Mrs. Fraser." So the poor best man, lingering in the hall, only caught one glimpse of his lady as she came out of the library and went away up- stairs, without even a look in his direction. Presently one of the numerous Fraser cousins came and talked to him, and carried him off into the garden, and involved him in a game of tennis. Later in the day he heard quite casually that Miss Meynell was gone. People 48 GERALD. were giving plenty of reasons and particulars, but these were nothing to him. She was gone ; everything was a vain show ; and through the long tiresome evening, though he danced and talked like every one else, he could only wish over and over again that he had never come to Linwood. CHAPTER IV. LADY REDCLIFF. Lady Redcliff was a very fierce little old woman Indeed. She wore a black cap, and believed In nothing. She had had a few friends, who remained faithful to her till she was over sixty ; but after that they dropped off one by one, being quite unable to bear with the increasing sharpness of her tongue. Her remarks were sometimes so violently personal as to madden the meekest subject of them, and these are not the days of meekness. In these days the youngest and smallest people have their rights, and the oldest and most VOL. I. 50 ' GERALD. important grandmothers must respect them, unless they wish to be met with open rebellion. The only person to whom Lady Redcliff behaved decently was her granddaughter, Theo Meynell, and this was not because of any of her nice qualities, but because she had w^hat Lady Redcliff called, with satis- faction, '' the Meynell temper." All sorts of horrid legendary old Meynells looked flashing out from Theo's eyes sometimes, when she was angry and scornful ; and these moments were "the grandmother's delight, though the anger was often against herself. She enjoyed telling Theo, whenever she was angry, about an old Lord Redcliff who killed his French cook because a game-pie was burnt, and above all things he loved game-pie. " He ought to have been hanged," said Theo. '' Oh dear, no ; people were not such fools LAD V REDCLIFR 5^ then," said Lady Redcliff. ''He got a better cook, and lived to eat thousands more pies." When Theo showed the strength of her will in some decided way, Lady Redcliff might remark : ** There was a woman in our family once who wanted to marry a man ; but he preferred somebody else who had more money. I believe he liked Theodosia best, however — she was a namesake of yours, you perceive — but that had nothing to do with it ; he was going to marry the other one. Well,' very early on the wedding morning, Theodosia poisoned the woman, or chloroformed her, or something ; dressed herself in white and went to church, and married the man in spite of everybody. Nobody ever stops the Meynells from having their own- way. Nobody wanted that girl to marry your father — certainly I •didn't — but he chose that she should, I can E 2 c«V REDCLIFF. 57 *' Hush ! you forget ; you are talking of my mother," said Theo. '' I don't forget. You never let me forget anything disagreeable." *' Look here, grandmamma ; you don't really want to hurt me, I know, but you do hurt me when you talk like that of my Norths, and especially of Uncle Henry, whom I love with all my heart.'" *' Why shouldn't you be hurt as well as other people ? I have been hurt often enough, and by people who pretended to love me," said her grandmother. "Don't be a fool! Why didn't your dear uncle leave you anything ? " " I never thought or expected that he would," said Theo. " Every one else did, then." " No, grandmamma : not people who knew about his affairs." "• Rubbish ! He had plenty of money to do 58 GERALD, what he liked with. He had a great deal more than his sisters, and they were not badly off, but they married men who spent their money, and Henry North was a miser. That Fraser man muddled away every penny of his first wife's money, and your father spent It rationally," said Lady Redcliff with an odd grimace. '' But that's nothing to the point. What I say Is, don't delude yourself with the idea that your uncle was a poor man. He lived quietly enough, to be sure, down there in that hole, but all the Norths are misers — your Norths, as you call them. I don't think it Is a property to be proud of." ''There are a few things you don't know, grandmamma," said Theo earnestly. '' Are there, really ? " said Lady Redcliff, who was talking herself Into a better humour. 'Well, I never pretended to be as knowing: as you." LADY REDCLIFR 59 " Uncle Henry may have had plenty of money to begin with ; I believe he had," said Theo. '' But there was a man he liked very much, a good deal younger than himself, and of course his junior in the service ; but he was in his regiment for some time, and they were friends to quite an unusual extent, you know. This man left the army, and went In for some speculations. He persuaded Uncle Henry to put a great deal of money into them, and then he turned out all wrong, and swindled everybody who had trusted him. Uncle Henry lost much more than any one else, but It was owing to him that the man was let off easily, because he used to like him so much, and did not believe It was quite all his fault. So it was hushed up, and Hugh believes the man Is alive still, but he does not know what has become of him." "■ Swindling comfortably on somewhere, no 6o GERALD. doubt," said Lady Redcliff. '* It would have been more philanthropic to punish him." *' So Hugh thinks. He does not agree with his father about that ; but it happened long ago, when he was young, so he had nothing to do with it. He hates the man," said Theo in soft thoughtful tones. '' I never saw him look so angry as when he told me about him the other day. He hates to think of Uncle Henry being taken in, and it is a horrid story, certainly." " Quite thrilling, but I wouldn't tell it much, if I were you," said Lady Redcliff " This wicked world laughs at people who are neither clever, wise, nor hard, you know. There, don't flash ; your little tempers tire me. Where does your cousin get his money from, then ? I know he has a good deal of his own." *' His mother had a fortune, and it was settled upon him," answered Theo. LADY RED CLIFF. 6i '' His mother's relations must have been canny people," said Lady Redcliff. '' Saints like Henry North generally manage to have no settlements at all." " I suppose you hate the Norths because they are good," said Theo. She had walked away to the window, and was standing in the shadow of the curtains looking up at the sky. " And is that the reason why you love them, you little Pharisee ? " sneered Lady Redcliff. Something in the look of her eyes, fixed on the tall beautiful figure of the girl standing there, seemed curiously to belie her way of talking, and Theo, perhaps, knew her grand- mother well enough to feel this, though she did not look towards her in return. •'At any rate," she said, '' I suppose I love them because they have been so good to me.'* 62 GERALD. ''Well, that's true, and they had nothing to gain by It," said Lady Redcllff. '' But Hugh's goodness now may not be quite so disinterested. When did he tell you this history of the losses ? Since his father's death ? " ** Yes ; a few weeks ago, when he came here the first time." " And why did he tell It you at all ?" " I think I have an Idea," said Theo dreamily. '' Out with It then. I want to finish this foolish talk and go to sleep." '' I think he thought I might fancy — that I might, perhaps, be disappointed at Uncle. Henry's leaving me nothing — and so he wished me to understand about the affairs, don't you see ? " '' He said nothing about making It up to you In the future ? " LADY RED CLIFF. (>i *' No, grandmamma. How could he ? What do you mean ? Of course he did not allude to my being disappointed at all." ''In fact, he was gentlemanlike and con- siderate, as the Norths always are. I suppose he knows all about your affairs ? " '' Yes," said Theo. *' Your poor little three hundred a year, which you will find a sad pinch now that Uncle Henry has deserted you. You will have to depend on yourself, you know. I can't have you always living here, though I don't mind you for a visit now and then. We have had enough of each other already, that's the truth ; we shall quarrel mortally if you stay much longer. Where will you go when you leave me?" '' I don't know," said Theo. She had probably heard this before, for it did not seem to make much impression on 64 GERALD. her, as she stood gazing out of the window. After a minute Lady Redcliff said abruptly : "■ Hugh North will ask you to marry him." "He won't ; you are quite mistaken," said Theo, turning round with an air of magnificent disdain. " He will. Don't you know^ that I am a witch ? I know the future. I can tell your fortune, my pretty lady ; give me that white hand of yours." Theo put her hands behind her and stood motionless. '* He shall be a dark man," the old woman went on in a sort of beggar's whine. '' No fair man is fit for the likes of you, my darling." Then suddenly changing into her natural tone, she said : ''He will, Theo. What will you say if he does?" ''No, of course," said Theo; "but he wouldn't be so foolish. Oh, it is too horrid LADY REDCLIFF. 65 to talk like this ! I am going out for a walk." *' Go then. I am glad enough to get rid of you," said Lady Redcliff. " Take Combe ; you are not to go by yourself." Theo rushed upstairs to Combe, and hurried her and herself out of the house in an angry excited way. Combe was not surprised ; her mistress generally came out of the drawing- room in these moods, after a long talk with Lady Redcliff. Out of doors a little coolness was beginning to breathe in the air ; so Theo thought, at any rate, in the first minutes of her escape from that oppressive house. Then a flush of heat came over her, for she and Combe had hardly crossed the square when Captain North met them. He was cool, and kind, and calm as usual. Theo could have laughed as she thought of her grandmother's words, and yet hated the little VOL. I. F 66 GERALD. confusion that was inseparable from the memory of them ; but her feelings were quite hidden from Captain North. " Now you may go to church, Combe," he said, in his nice old matter-of-fact way, *'and leave Miss Theo to me. I'm come to take care of her." "■ Thank you, sir. It's too late for church," said Combe. " Well, go and see your friends, or some- thing." " Go for a walk, Combe ; don't go back into that horrid stuffy house," said Theo ; and then, with a feeling of relief and peace, all disagreeables forgotten, she walked cheerfully away with Hugh. CHAPTER V. HUGH. As Theo walked away with her cousin, the shadow of her grandmother's presence, the echo of her mischievous words, became fainter every moment. It had been a piece of un- kindness, of malice mixed with jealousy, that attempt to destroy her peace with Hugh ; but fortunately it had failed, and now Theo did not even resent it much. It was only grandmamma ! Poor grandmamma could not be good-natured if she tried, and must always say what came into her head, no matter how unhappy it made other people. F 2 68 GERALD. Theo was never angry with her long without beginning to be sorry for her. After all, she could not do much harm ; and one need only be in Hugh's company for five minutes to realise what utter nonsense she had been talking, and to be ashamed of having minded it or thought about it at all. Theo was always happy with Hugh. He was never shocked at her flights, and seldom amused at them ; but he often expressed a little disapproval, and never any admiration ; in fact, he was brotherly, in an unusually polite fashion. He was a strength, a protec- tion, a background of quiet family affection — everything, in short, that Uncle Henry's son ought to have been. Theo had never troubled herself to analyse his fondness for her, or hers for him ; it was like the air she breathed ; she had grown up in it, her HUGH. 69 mind resting on his in a faith that asked no questions, and expected no enthusiasms. There was only one drawback — that this dear old Hugh was not really her brother ; with that one step nearer, Theo would not have known the meaning of loneliness. As it was, since her uncle's death and Helen's marriage, she had been horribly lonely, and had spent a good many hours thinking sadly of the future. Her grand- mother's house could never feel like home, and yet what other home was possible ? She had not seen much of Hugh that summer, for he had been very busy, and Lady Redcliff's reception of him in his one or two visits had not encouraged him to come again. She had wanted very much to talk things over with Hugh, and had said so in a letter two or three days before this Sunday ; but now, absurd as Lady Redcliffs 70 GERALD. remarks and prophecies had been, she felt a faint foolish disinclination to talk about her own plans. Besides, it was pleasanter and easier to stroll happily along in the sun- shine, and think about nothing, and talk to dear Wool, her collie, when they had fetched him from the mews, where he sadly lived apart from his mistress. By the time she and Wool had told each other all their feelings, they had reached Kensington Gardens, and he then ran off with a long swinging stride to amuse himself Captain North, who had only entered into this conversation by refusing to see that Wool's coat was dull, and that he was evidently pining away, now began to talk on his own account. He had plans, it seemed, and quite clear and definite ones. He was going to Scotland very soon, to shoot with a friend of his, and HUGH. 71 hoped to be away about six weeks, coming back early in October. He talked of Harry Campbell and his shooting in an animated way, . . and Theo listened with pleasure, for Hugh had been in very low spirits ever since his father's death. They sat down under a tree in a quiet corner, and talked for a long time. Wool, when he was tired, came and lay down at Theo's feet. The rustling wind, the warm soft sun, the touch of autumn sadness already in the air, all was pleasant and peaceful ; it made Theo feel good, and her manner was charming. Captain North, sitting beside her there, ought to have been a very happy man ; his was the privilege of having her all to him- self, of saying anything he pleased, but he only talked about plans for running away from her. Yet even as he sat there he was thinking that perhaps some day Theo would belong 72 GERALD. to him entirely, and no doubt he would be a very fortunate fellow. He certainly had no intention of marrying any one else, and he believed that her fancy, too, was perfectly free. He would not say anything now, from an odd mixture of confidence and diffidence. If Theo had only known it, that last time he came to the square, and was snubbed by Lady Redcliff, and had to retreat rather crest- fallen, though he had found time enough alone with Theo to tell her that story of his father's losses — that day, as he walked away from the house, he had made up his mind to rescue Theo from her grandmother, by asking her to marry him as soon as she would ; but the day after he had a cheerful little note from Theo, and then he thought that Lady Redcliff could not be positively unkind to her, and that this tremendous step might as well be put off a little. Circumstances were HUGH. 73 not likely to change ; in these days Theo never saw anybody, and there could be no possible doubt of his own constancy to her. Besides, it would be very inconvenient to him to marry that autumn ; his affairs were not settled, and he had always intended to leave the army when he married, and this was a step which just now he would be very sorry to take. Perhaps Theo might not have objected to a long engagement ; but the plain truth and the conclusion of the whole thing was, though the hero would hardly have confessed it to himself, that he did not dare ask her. If she refused him, it would be such a horrid business ; their happy confidence and friendship at an end for ever. ** Perhaps I had better not," thought the Captain, in a miserably wavering state of mind, which would have astonished all his 74 GERALD. friends ; "■ and yet there is nobody like Theo, and we must settle it some day." But he made up his mind that, at any rate, there could be no harm in waiting ; and in the meanwhile, happily for him, he could meet Theo and walk with her and sit beside her, without the slightest quickening of his pulse. " And now tell me, what are you going to do ? " he said presently. "- I don't know. You have made me en- vious. I wish I was going to shoot in Scot- land," said Theo. '' Yes ; I wish you were coming with me, but unfortunately there's no Mrs. Campbell. What can we do for you, though, Theo ? You are not looking well. I don't think London agrees with you. Would Lady Red- cliff let you go away anywhere ? " *' I suppose so; she doesn't want me always," said Theo a little sadly. HUGH. 75 Captain North looked very grave. He was much interested in balancing a twig on his stick ; but he was thinking what a dreadful misfortune his father's death had been for Theo. When Colonel North was alive Theo had had no troubles, no anxieties ; she had never been expected to decide or arrange anything for herself. Her uncle had accus- tomed her to depend entirely on him, and his son thought this was quite right ; it seemed to him perfectly correct that a woman should have nothing to do with managing her own affairs. Hugh North liked women, and was liked by them ; but he had a very lov^^ opinion of their capacity, and this did not interfere with a good deal of old-fashioned chivalry in his thoughts of them. '* You certainly ought not to stay in London," he said presently. " Isn't there any one by the sea anywhere, or in Wales, 76 GERALD. or in Scotland, after all ? There are the Tom Frasers. That would be a good plan, because we could travel down together." " My dear Hugh, there may be lots of people all over the kingdom, but none of them have asked me, and I am not going to ask myself. You don't want me to do that, I suppose ? " " No," said Captain North. Then he added after a minute's silence : " How would you like to go to Helen ? " " She has not asked me." " I thought you told me some time ago, that she wanted you to go there in the autumn ? " ''That was before she was married," said Theo with a slight sigh. '' She does not often write to me now." " Do you write to her ? Is it possible that you were a little too scornful about her marriage ? " HUGH. 77 ** Indeed I was not scornful at all," said Theo quickly. " I wish you would not think me so horrid, Hugh. Nell and I were the best of friends, and I said nothing that could hurt her feelings, I liked Mr. Goodall ; he seemed very good-tempered. You said yourself that he was not bad, and you thought about him just the same as I did." *' Could you stay in his house ? " Theo looked a little sad. '' It would be NelFs house too," she said, as if reasoning with herself, and then she smiled and looked full at Hugh. '* I think it might be amusing," she said, *' and she would let me be alone, and do anything I liked, and I should learn a great deal about potters and machinery. And don't you think that I might take Aster down, as well as Wool ? It would do them both so much 78 GERALD. good. You won't want Aster while you are in Scotland?" " No. There would have to be negotia- tions. Fellows like Goodall are not always accommodating. They have their own groove, and if anything knocks them out of that, you know, they can't always manage themselves. Besides, Helen doesn't ride, and there might be a difficulty about some one to go out with you." ^^ I could go out alone." *' No, my dear, certainly not. For one thing, a country like that is sure to be full of rough characters. But anyhow I don't approve of it." " But you should consider, Hugh, that it is necessary for a person like me to be independent. One is not so very young at twenty-three, and Fm sure I feel old enough to go all over the world by myself, only I HUGH. 79 should not like it. And there's always Combe. What a pity Combe can't ride ! " " A great pity. But don't begin to be independent just yet, to oblige me." " I am afraid I have begun/' said Theo. ''Well, but seriously, I don't see why you should not write to Nell, and propose a visit. Aster and Wool might come in as an after- thought." Theo was doubtful. " I must consult grandmamma. I think I will wait a few days, at any rate," she said. Presently they got up and strolled a little farther, and then she thought it was time to go back to her grandmother, so they turned their steps that way, walking very slowly. Only too soon, however, they reached the square, and Lady Redcliff's door, and then a shadow came over Theo's face again, and it was with a very 8o GERALD. sad smile that she wished her cousin good- bye. '' Shall I see you again before you go ? '^ she said. " I won't ask you to come in now, because — perhaps you would rather not." " I'll do anything you like — whatever you think best," said Hugh, with a sort of eager- ness that was checked almost before it was visible. " Perhaps you had better not," said Theo. He kept her hand in his for a few moments while he said : '' I am afraid this is good-bye, do you know. I am going on Thursday, and I shall be very busy till then. But Theo, you must not stay here — you are unhappy." He said the last words very low, with an earnest lingering gaze into her face. " I wish I was not obliged to leave you HUGH. 8 1 here," he muttered, as she did not answer at once. '' One can't always expect to be happy," said Theo. "■ You are not happy — we ought not to be, either of us. It is such a very great change. I'm glad you are going to Scotland, and I shall be very glad to see you when you come back again ; you will most likely find me here." " We must write to each other." *' Oh, of course." '' And you won't write to Helen ? " '' I am not sure. I shall wait a little. Mr. Goodall might say I was a bore." *' Helen, perhaps, has taught him that word, but he does not know it by nature," said Captain North. *' Well, good-bye." He turned and walked away, and Theo went into the house. They were both sad at parting. She missed his friendly sym- VOL. I. G 82 GERALD. pathy, and he was haunted by her paleness and thinness, and by the tired look about her beautiful dark eyes. That evening he took some writing-paper, and sat for a long time with a pen in his hand. I believe he was going to write to Theo, and in quite a new strain ; but pru- dence or some other unattractive virtue once more conquered, and instead of writing to Theo he wrote to his cousin, Mrs. John Goodall, a letter chiefly about Theo, her looks, and her present position with her grandmother. Lady Redcliff. CHAPTER VI. JOHN. Another week of hot monotonous August passed away, and Theo was still staying with her grandmother. She was not actually discontented, her nature was too fine for small discontents; but yet she was not at all happy. She missed her uncle and all his old friends ; she missed Hugh, and Aster, and freedom, and fresh air. She could take long walks now with Combe, and have Wool to run by her side ; but she wanted a wide horizon and an active life full of interest, such as she used to live in the old G 2 84 GERALD. days. Her mental and bodily health were both being spoilt by the hard strain of this London life without gaiety or excitement. The only changes of every day were those in Lady Redcliff's temper. If she was not angry, and stinging, and malicious, she was silent and dismal. Theo did not know which of these humours was most trying ; but she hardly ever complained of her grandmother, even to herself, and they had a strange liking for each other, even when they quarrelled most violently. Yet it was a bad training for the mind and heart of a young woman, and Theo's face showed more and more of the weariness that Captain North had sadly noticed there. One afternoon the deadness, the melan- choly of this life seemed more intense and painful than ever. The room was hotter and more stuffy ; Lady Redcliff had been JOHN. 85 very cross all day, and was now nodding half-asleep over her newspaper. Theo sat dreaming with some fancy-work In her hands, at which she stitched unconsciously, and her lips moved sometimes, for she was repeating to herself the words of a song about fairy- land, which Uncle Henry used to make her sing to him nearly every evening : And you shall touch with your finger-tips The ivory gate and golden. Ah yes ; but when and where ? Had Uncle Henry only reached It now, when he had gone away into the shadow, and could not be called back again, and could not come and tell her all that he knew she wanted to know ? They had often talked about these things, for he was a good man, and Theo from a child had found religion very Interest- ing. The silence after his death had had a S6 GERALD. sad effect upon her ; she could now feel sure of nothing, and though she hated her grand- mother's talk of these things, there were dreadful possibilities of truth In It. Theo found It best not to think and puzzle herself too much, but very often to remember and say to herself the words that Uncle Henry used to like best. That song of the fairies — Theo thought that their country was very familiar to him ; she fancied that she herself had looked sometimes with him through "the ivory gate and golden," for certainly, though he had had many troubles, he was the happiest man she had ever known. Ah, but how far away that bright gate seemed now, that en- trance Into beauty and nobleness, and a high and generous life ! A cloud had come down and hidden it ; Lady Redcliff's dark walls shut out such visions most effectually. Happi- ness, too ; the joy of life and youth ; it was JOHN. 87 too soon for these glorious things to "fade into the light of common day," and that fairy- gate, to Theo's fancy, had been the way into them all. Was it never to open again ? She was disturbed in her thoughts by the butler, who opened the door gently, with an alarmed glance at his mistress, and asked her if she would see Mr. Goodall. Before Theo had collected her wits to answer, Lady Redcllff was wide-awake. "Mr. Goodall! Where is he? What does he want ? " She was not a person who had old ser- vants ; they could not be faithful to her, any more than her friends, partly because she never trusted them ; and this little man, who had been in the house a month, could not yet speak to her without trembling. "Mr. Goodall asked for Miss Meynell, my lady." 88 GERALD. '' I know that. Say she Is not at home. I can't have that man coming here, Theo. What makes him take such a Hberty ? " '' He has come to see me, grandmamma," said Theo, getting up. " Show Mr. Goodall Into the Hbrary, Jackson." The butler hesitated a moment In real alarm ; but as Lady Redcllff did not contradict this order, he supposed he was to obey it, and went away. " This Is a sort of odious Impertinence that I w^Ill not endure," said Lady Redcllff. '' My house to be the rendezvous of all the snobs that your cousins choose to connect themselves with ? Do you hear, Theo .'^ I won't have It ! " " I really don't know what you mean," said Theo coldly. '' You are so changeable that I really can't understand you," said Lady Redcllff. '' You JOHN. 89 told me yourself that the man was a snob, or how do I know It ? And now, because you are bored with me, you are ready to fly into his arms. You will be staying at his house next, I suppose ? " '' After all, he is Helen's husband," said Theo. " Does that make any difference ? Does a woman raise her husband, pray ? " '' I can't argue now. I must go and see him.'' '' Well, go. I don't want to keep you from your charming new relation." Theo went slowly downstairs. When she came into the library, where Mr. Goodall was waiting for her, she looked cold, and stately, and sleepy, and absent to the last degree. He, having arrived full of good-nature and friendly feeling, felt himself suddenly checked in his flow of kindness. Theo certainly 90 GERALD. looked and spoke as If she did not want him, and at first the good fellow was Inclined to be angry ; but then he was shocked at her altered looks since the wedding, and remembered all that Helen had said about her , dreamy ways, and sensibly and gene- rously determined to make allowances for her. " I happened to be In London for a day," he said, after answering her questions about Helen, *' and my wife thought I might take the opportunity of calling." '' It was very good of you," said Theo. She was not sure that she liked the way in which those quick dark eyes of his were scrutinising her. They seemed somehow to contradict the rest of his appearance, which was stout, and solid, and opaque. There was an odd kind of smile on his face. Theo thought she liked him less than on the JOHN. 91 wedding-day, and that It was a little stupid of Helen to send him to see her. '' But she Is quite contented with him, I suppose ? " she reflected. '' Dear me, how very, very funny ! " " How is Lady Redcllff ?" said Mr. Good- all. " I did not ask for her, because I under- stood that she does not care to see people much." '' She is pretty well, thank you. She seldom sees anybody." ''It is better to have a talk with you alone," he said, taking a note out of his pocket- book, '' because you can tell me what you think of this plan of ours." " What plan ? " said Theo vaguely, as he gave her the note, which was directed to her in Helen's writing. ''If you will kindly read that, it will save explanation." 92 GERALD. *' My dearest Theo, '' I am sure you must be tired of London by this time, and I know it never agrees with you. I suppose you have not forgotten that you promised to come to me in the autumn, and September begins directly, and I want you now for a really good long visit. This neighbourhood is nothing much, but you and I will have lots to talk about, and you will feel quite independent of the people here, just as I do. I want you to bring Aster and Wool, and to feel as if you were at home, and to stay till something obliges you to go away. This is all from John as well as myself, and his special part is that he will take this letter to you himself, and persuade you to come down with him on Wednesday. Dear old Theo, don't disappoint me. I want you so very much. Your loving '' Helen." JOHN. 93 Theo's face softened wonderfully as she read this letter, and she looked up at John Goodall with a smile, which made him smile cheerfully in return. " Well, it's settled, isn't it ? " he said, in a loud hearty voice. '' We shall meet at Euston at two o'clock to-morrow. And now about your horse and your dog ; can I do anything .^ You haven't got them here, I suppose ? Where are they coming from ? " '' Thank you ; they are both in Street," said Theo. '' My cousin. Captain North, had Aster at Hounslow till the other day ; but I had him up here after he went to Scotland, because I thought I might have a ride now and then. Thank you so much ; but do you really like them to come down with me ? " '' Of course," said John. " We want to cheer you up and make you strong, if you will 94 GERALD. let us, and, excuse me, but I think we are setting about It none too soon." These personal remarks sounded odd, coming from a perfect stranger, and Theo took no notice of them ; but she reminded herself hastily : '' He is my cousin ; he Is Nell's husband," and went on talking about Aster and Wool, and the arrangements for their journey Into the middle of England. ''And you are coming down with me to- morrow ? " said Mr. Goodall in his strong tones. '' That's right." At this moment Lady Redcliff appeared at the door, which was standing a little open. Theo did not seem startled, but a faint shade of colour came Into her pale face. She gave a momentary glance at John, who appeared quite calm and unawed by the little old lady's ap- pearance, and Introduced him in her sweetest, politest manner to her grandmother. JOHN. 95 ''How d'ye do, Lady Redcllff?" said John, stretching out his large hand. '' I hope you won't be angry with me for running away with your granddaughter. We think it's time she had some country air, you know." He was not even frightened by Lady RedcHff's cold astonished look, or the slight touch of her thin icy little fingers. She turned from him to Theo, her eyebrows mounting up in an arch of questions. Then she laughed. ''Is Mr. Goodall tired of his wife already, Theo, and does he want to run away with you ? You look very happy about It. Well, I am not particular, Mr. Goodall ; but you do shock me, I must confess. I always understood you were such an excellent person. I have heard so much of you from Theo — haven't I, Theo '^' And what have you done with your wife '^. " " I left her yesterday In Staffordshire, and I 96 GERALD. am going back to her to-morrow, and with your leave I want to take Miss Meynell with me for a long visit/' said John, grave and unabashed. " Oh, that's all very correct and unin- teresting ; I can't give you my sympathy any further ; you are just as good as they led me to think," said Lady Redcliff " I am sorry for you, though, and I will give you a little advice. Don't say too much about a long visit. Theo will be tired of you In a week ; she has a vaster capacity for being bored than any one I ever knew, except myself. She Is descended from me, you see, and Inherits my vices." John did not answer. He looked at Theo, but her eyes were fixed on Helen's letter. Then he made Lady Redcliff a little bow. " You are quite right not to be compli- mentary," said she. " I have no virtues, and I don't care for the credit of them. Theo In- JOHN. 97 herlts my vices. When are you going to take her away ? To-night ? " Mr. Goodall did not exactly make any answer. He looked again at Theo ; it was plain that her grandmother's account of her had frightened him a little. He turned quite away from Lady Redcliff, bending himself towards Theo, and said very gravely and distinctly : " You like to come ? " " My dear Mr. Goodall, she is enchanted," said Lady Redcliff " She is bored to death with me ; you can see that in her face ; and she is only afraid to speak or look now because she feels too happy. I was only talking about the future just now — and, after all, your wife must be a charming creature, and will be able to amuse her for a week or two, I dare say. Are there plenty of young men in your neighbour- hood — agreeable men, like yourself ? '' VOL. I. H 98 GERALD. At this moment Theo flashed a glance at her grandmother, by which John was really- startled ; and perhaps he began to wish that Helen had never sent him on this errand of kindness and hospitality. It seemed as if there was some family likeness between these ladies, after all. But then Theo's pale beau- tiful face was turned to him again, and her eyes, which had just been so angry, w^ere full of sad sweetness as she said : "It is very kind of you and Helen to want me to come. I like to come extremely, and I will be sure to meet you at the station to-morrow. Two o'clock, did you say ? " '' Two o'clock — yes," said John ; and then he thought that he might go, and stood up, looking down with sturdy coolness into Lady Redcliff's small, pinched, maliciously-smiling face. "No," he said, " my country is not very gay, though there are plenty of people JOHN. 99 in it. We have life, but not society, I'm afraid." ''Well, life is a very good thing. Here in London we have death," said Lady Red- cliff. John hastily wished them good-bye, and went. He squeezed Theo's hand, and looked straight into her eyes, saying : '' To-morrow." As he walked down the street, he said to himself, '* Poor girl, poor girl, poor girl ! What an awful, horrible old woman ! " '' A very fine specimen of a potter," said Lady Redcliff, taking Theo's arm to go up- stairs. "How fat he is, and how brilliantly ^igreeable ! Really, my dear, I envy you a few weeks with him." "He is very nice, grandmamma, and there was no reason for you to be so dreadful to him. He is a good kind fellow, and I know I shall like him very much." H 2 100 GERALD. " He is more amusing than Hugh North, because he shows his outraged feeHngs — a child of nature, in fact," said Lady RedcHff. " But I thought I was charming to him. I certainly felt very much pleased with him for taking you away, and I said nothing but the truth about you. You are the most dreamy, the most lackadaisical, the most easily-bored person, with the most ungoverned temper, that I ever knew in my life. Except myself, as I said. I was just like you when I was young." '' Were you, grandmamma '^ " said Theo, startled. " Ask any of the people who used to know me," said Lady Redcliff triumphantly. CHAPTER VII. A LOST CHILD. Theo and her maid arrived at the station rather before two o'clock the next day. Combe was not in a good temper ; she did not half approve of this visit to Mr. and Mrs. Goodall. Theo, after a cold, painful parting with her grandmother, was in a melancholy dream. She knew that Lady Redcliff hated letting her go, and would miss her extremely ; yet no one else could have known this, for all Lady Redcliffs remarks that morning were full of sneering contempt for Theo herself, and for the people she was going to. I02 GERALD. As Mr. Goodall was nowhere to be seen, Theo walked across the great hall of the station, turned Into the waiting-room, and sat down there, looking absently straight before her. Combe was outside, watching over the luggage and waiting for Wool, who was to be brought from the mews and to go down by the same train with them. There sat Theo in the large gloomy room. Her black clothes were not becoming to her ; they made her look pale and ill, but she could not help being very handsome, though that cold, still, scornful face might hardly have been called attractive. Though her eyes fell some- times on a young girl, who was the only other person in the room, she did not really see or notice her at all. This girl, unlike herself, was very restless. She wandered round and round the room, stopping sometimes to read the advertisements^ A LOST CHILD. 103 or to look at herself In the glass ; sometimes she went out on the platform, and walked a few yards away, and looked up and down, and came back again ; then she went out of the other door into the booking-office, and looked into the hall for a minute, and then came back into the waiting-room with an impatient sigh. At last she stopped near Theo, glancing at her rather wistfully, and their eyes met. After a moment's gaze, Theo began to see her, and perceived what a pretty child she was. She was hardly more than sixteen ; a fair, bright-looking girl, with a tinge of red in her curly hair which made it all the prettier, a lovely pink and white skin, small features, and innocent blue eyes, which looked as if they could either smile or cry very easily. Just now they were nearer crying. She did not look clever, but certainly she was not stupid, for that short look into the cold quiet I04 GERALD. face of the stranger, sitting there so dreamy and still, so much older, and in every way such a contrast to herself, brought her at once several yards nearer, and with a rather tearful smile she said quickly : *' Do you know, I am in such trouble ! " " Have you missed your train, or lost somebody ? " said Theo with the greatest kindness. The child's voice was as sweet as her face, and drove all her own dismal thoughts away. "■ I have missed I don't know how many trains. I have been waiting here since ten this morning, and now I don't know what to do." '' Are you quite alone ? " " I have been alone all these hours. Perhaps I may tell you all about it ? " ''Do," said Theo. A LOST CHILD. 105 '' I have been at school at Kensington. My eldest brother sent me there ; I have only two brothers In the world. I had to stay till now because there was nowhere for me to go, but now they have settled for me to live with my youngest brother in the country. The eldest was going to take me down to-day, and he said I was to be here at ten, so of course I was. But he said he was very busy, and he might not be able to catch that train ; and if so I must wait for him, and we would go by the next. There have been three or four since then, and he doesn't come, and I really don't know what to do. Do you think I ought to stay here all day ? " " Perhaps it would be best for you to go back to the school," said Theo. " But he might come after all, and then he would be angry. And Mrs. Keene, our princi- pal, is going abroad to-morrow, and she can't io6 GERALD. have me on her hands any longer. What shall I do ? " There was something touching, though a little puzzling and provoking, in the girl's way of standing there and looking at Theo for help. She expected it so cer- tainly, that Theo felt as if she must have it, and began to think what she could do. Leave Combe here, perhaps, to take care of this child, and to come down by the later train. Would that be very incon- venient to everybody ? Combe would not be pleased, but after all, her business was to do as she was told. '' Combe forgets that a little too much sometimes," thought her mistress. " I believe it would be the best plan." '' It is not a very long journey, I think, but I have never travelled by myself at all," the girl said, as Theo was silent. *' It is a very A LOST CHILD. 107 ugly part of the country where my brother lives, near Mainley." ''How far from Mainley?" said Theo, looking up with a sudden smile. ''Three miles, I think. What fun it would be " And she checked herself suddenly, blushing, but Theo was looking at her very kindly. " That makes it quite easy," she said. " I am going by this train to Mainley, with a — a cousin of mine. Of course you can go with us, if you like, and there will be no difficulty in getting to your brother, when you are only three miles from him. Perhaps he will meet you." " How kind you are ! Thank you. But I don't know, I'm sure. What will Clarence say if he does come here, and doesn't find me?" "We will leave a message for him. There io8 GERALD. was a nice porter with my things ; he looked as if he would remember a message/' said Theo. ''Shall we go and speak to him?" She got up, and the girl followed her out of the waiting-room. They went on together into the hall, where Combe, with frequent glances at the clock, was standing by a pile of luggage ; the porter was just labelling it to Mainley. Wool had not arrived, nor Mr. Goodall. '' If you please, miss, what shall we do if Mr. Goodall is late for the train ? " said Combe, stepping forward anxiously. '' The dog isn't come, either." "Isn't he?" said Theo. "Will you label this young lady's luggage to Mainley, please ?" she said to the porter. " Where is it ? " turning to her companion. " Oh, the man said he must put it in the cloak-room." A LOST CHILD. 109 ''For this train, miss? I'll see to it directly," said the porter. '' And if a gentleman comes after the train is gone, and asks for this young lady, will you tell him that she is quite safe, and has gone on to Mainley ? " Here Theo was checked in her romantic career, much to Combe's relief, by the simul- taneous arrival of two men, who came in at different doors, and walked straight up to the group in the middle of the hall. One was Mr. Goodall, with a porter leading Wool, who struggled to reach his mistress. The other was a tall, lazy, gentlemanlike, middle- aged man, with a not very agreeable expres- sion. Theo, looking at him, was faintly reminded of somebody she had seen. She noticed him with some interest, for her young companion turned quickly to meet him, rather frightened and confused. no GERALD. " I thought you were never coming," she began. '' Here we are now, and there is no time to lose," said her brother. He was not just then looking at her, but at Mr. Goodall, and the two men lifted their hats to each other. Both looked stiff, and John Goodall's face was very stern. His eyes darted from the man to the girl, and then to Theo : these two bowed and smiled to each other as the tall man hurried his sister away. Then followed a few moments of bustle and confusion, for they were nearly late for the train. John Goodall was in a great fuss, and Theo thought him a tiresome fellow- traveller, and wondered how Helen's placid ways would fit in with this sort of thing. After all, they were in the carriage a minute or two before the train started, and Theo A LOST CHILD. in saw her friend pass along the platform. There were now two men with her ; the second was a rough, vulgar-looking man, with a red, close-shaven face and a bumptious air. John Goodall gave a sort of angry grunt, and threw himself back in the corner. '* Do you know those people ? " said Theo as the train began to move. "Yes. How can they Interest you?" said John crossly. Theo looked at him and smiled a little. He passed his hand over his face, as If to brush away some cobwebs, and went on, still in a grumpy manner : " I am sorry If I hurried you just now. I was kept by a stupid mistake, and I have been bothered this morning by some business going wrong. Have you been waiting long ? " *' Not much more than ten minutes, I think," said Theo. 112 GERALD. '' I beg your pardon. What did you ask me about those people ? Were you talking to that girl when I came in just now ? " '' Yes. I asked you if you knew them." " I don't know much good of them, and I wonder how you picked up the acquaint- ance. Helen wouldn't approve, you know." " But I don't suppose Helen knows the girl. Tell me about them, and then I will tell you why I was talking to her." "As to the girl I know nothing about her." " Except that she is wonderfully pretty." '' Well, I don't even know that. I never saw her before, and I didn't look at her just now. I suppose she is Litton's sister, poor thing! and in that case she has a valuable brother. I have heard a few things about him — nothing that you can actually take hold of, you know, but it is warning enough for A LOST CHILD. 113 us business men when all a man's history is not quite straight and above-board. He doesn't often show himself down at Malnley ; nor does that fellow who was with him just now, and who certainly bears a letter of recommendation in his face. Didn't you think so ?" *' You are very satirical," said Theo dreamily. ''Well, no wonder. And I'm curious too. I want to know how you made acquaint- ance with Miss Fane ; It Is not a secret, I suppose." ''Fane! Is that her name?" " If It was LItton's sister, her name Is Fane. The mother married twice." * But how very odd ! " said Theo, looking him full in the face and smiling. "Is she related to that Mr. Fane who came to your wedding ? " VOL. I. I 114 GERALD. "Oh, you haven't forgotten that fellow?"^ said John Goodall a Httle uncomfortably. '' Of course not. I thought he was a friend of yours. This is very puzzling alto- gether.'' ''Well, I can explain it. The company only took these Deerhurst mines last winter, and young Fane came as manager. Every- thing seemed fair and right enough then^ and I took rather a fancy to him ; he was a better sort of fellow than we often get down there. He had been rather under the weather, I think, before he came ; he left the army because he couldn't pay his debts, and I suppose Litton did the best he could for him by giving him this post of manager. He told me once that Litton had done everything in the world for him and his sister — put her to school and so forth. Well, Litton may have been generous, but I rather A LOST CHILD. 115 suspect It was with other people's money. It Is only within the last few weeks, you understand, that I have begun to have doubts about him. And now I have nothing to say against Fane ; only If a fellow can work with men like Litton and Warren, and keep his hands clean, he Is a miracle, which we don't expect in these days. It was a mistake, my bringing Fane to the wedding. I acknowledge that. But I was in a diffi- culty, as Helen perhaps told you." " I remember," said Theo. '' But he did no harm, and I think he was very agree- able." "As to that, he is rather ornamental," said Mr. Goodall. '' But It looked Intimate ; it was taking him up, you see, to an extent that I have regretted since." " I can't see that you have anything to regret," said Theo, with a clear memory of I 2 ii6 GERALD. Mr. Fane's great superiority to the bride- groom. ** That's natural ; he is a smart fellow in his way, but we business men have to look at things from our point of view. And now you were going to tell me how you made acquaintance with Miss Fane." Theo told him, and her worthy cousin listened with a good-natured, rather patro- nising smile, but said nothing to offend her. "Well," he remarked, ''she will have a dull life of it, poor girl ! They have got rather a nice little old house, with a good view over trees and meadows, right away from the smoke. The company bought it, and I have been sorry ever since that I did not buy it myself, for it is one of the best sites in the neighbourhood. I rather wish I had gone In for the mine and the whole A LOST CHILD. 117 thing, but I had other things in my head last winter." '' Helen will go and see Miss Fane, won't she ? " '' I can't say," said Mr. Goodall dryly. *' We are some distance off, and Helen doesn't much care for visiting, as you know." " But you know the brother ; and the girl is so pretty, and has such nice manners. I am quite sure Helen would like her." '* We shall see. There is no hurry about it. I have not seen much of young Fane lately, and I don't care to mix myself up with them just now." " But Helen is not you." Mr. Goodall smiled. "You don't think so .^ " "Besides," said Theo, "women have nothing to do with business. You can quarrel as much as you like with the brothers. ii8 GERALD. but that need not hinder Helen from being kind to the poor lonely harmless little sister." " I'm sorry for her, I assure you, but I don't believe Helen would agree with you in all that. Marriage changes people's ideas. When you are married, you will find that your husband's quarrels are apt to become your own." This personal touch put an end at once to Theo's argument. She showed no annoy- ance, but she turned her face away to the window, and silently reflected on the moral of all this talk — that there could be no real sympathy between people of different kinds, such as herself and Mr. Goodall. He did not seem sorry to take up his newspaper, over which he glanced now and then, with a shade of vexation, at the fair proud profile of his wife's favourite cousin. He was very glad A LOST CHILD. 119 that Helen was not such an impracticable person ; and yet, though she provoked him' he could not help liking Theo. The train rushed on for several hours, past woods, and meadows and corn-fields — a landscape which would have been uninter- esting if it had not glowed with gold and green and blue in the riches of summer ; here and there a reddening tree, a soft hanging mist, a cleared harvest-field, bringing a touch of autumn to sober all the joy. At last the horizon began to be stained with long trails of smoke, which Theo thought were clouds, till she saw the chimneys from which they were slowly creeping forth ; and then presently the train stopped at a rather grimy-looking station, with honest ugly faces on the platform, and they were at their journey's end. As John Goodall took her to the carriage, Theo looked round and saw I20 GERALD, her girl-friend again. She was walking with Mr. Warren, the disagreeable-faced man who had joined them at Euston. He had just taken a book out of her hand, and was laugh- ing. She looked flushed and miserable, but, catching Theo's eyes, she hurried suddenly on, and Theo held out her hand to her. Mr. Goodall glanced at her curiously, but not unkindly. Theo herself was strangely touched by the child's unhappy face, and the way in which she flew to her. '' Are you very tired ? '' she said in her sweetest manner. "You have had a long day. Good-bye ! But I know where you live, and I shall come and see you." '' Will you, really ? Oh, thank you — thank you ! " Mr. Goodall said nothing till he and Theo were driving off in his great carriage together. Then he remarked : A LOST CHILD. 121 *' So you chose to commit yourself." '' Yes, I did. I always do what I choose," said Theo, so gently, and with such a smile, that he could not even feel angry with her. CHAPTER VIII. GERALD fane's HOUSE. The drawing-room window at Deerhurst Lodge looked out into a balcony full of flowers, over a green terrace with large bushes of fuchsia and old-fashioned roses, and carnations, and salvias, and asters, and gera- niums, crowded together and growing rather wildly. At the north end of this terrace there was a yew, and a high wall covered with ivy and Virginia creeper ; at the south end a great old wych-elm stretched its brown arms and hung its tresses of feathery leaves over the terrace and a lawn on the other GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 123 side, which sloped up southward, bordered with box and rhododendrons, to the drive and the gate into the village. Below the terrace, to the west, there was an orchard with old gray apple-trees, some of them now covered with fruit. The ground fell away steeply into the hollow, where was a pond nearly hidden by trees, then rising again to a grass-field, and a corn- field full of standing sheaves, then falling to flat meadows and a river, with tall rows of poplars against the sky. Farther away there were woods, and distant, fields, and hills, but except on the northern horizon, where there were signs of a town behind the tree-tops, half-hidden by the shoulder of the ridge on which Deerhurst stood, no smoke was to be seen, or any sign that all this was in a country of mines and manu- feictures. Certainly there was a distant puff- 124 GERALD. ing and snorting ' of engines to be heard that evening, and perhaps it interfered a little with the peace of the solemn landscape, the sun gone down in stormy glory, on which Ada Fane looked out as she sat with her brother at the w^indow ; but she was almost too young to feel the sentiment of the hour or its disturbance. He was sitting in a large arm-chair, and she was opposite him on the low window- seat. The last sunset lights had cauQ^ht her crop of auburn curls, so that his eyes lingered on the lovely piece of colour ; but he made no remark upon it ; he was quite taken up with listening to her adventures of the day. '' And you didn't find out what her name was ? " *' No, Gerald. How could I ? But we shall know when she comes to see me." GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 125 Her brother laughed. '' She won't come ; don't flatter your- self," he said. " She could only come with Mrs. Goodall, and that beast Goodall won't let them. He means to cut me. Why, I don't know, but I suppose we are not smart enough for him now he is married. He has never asked me to the house once, though he dragged me to the wedding. I wish I had never gone." " Why, when you came to see me, directly afterwards, I thought you had liked it," said Ada ''Did you?" '' Don't be cross, Gerald, or I shan't like living with you. Don't you think it was selfish of old Clarence to keep me waiting all those hours because he wanted that horrid Mr. Warren to come down with us ? " '' Poor litde thing ! Don't talk so loud ; 126 GERALD. the window down there is open, and they might hear you." '' Oh no, I hear their old voices droning away ; they are thinking of wine and tobacco, and not of me at all. But I should rather like Mr. Warren to know that I think him horrid, because I do." "You are not fond of smoking?" " I don't mind your innocent cigarettes, my dear." '' Well, as you are going to live with me, and as I am many years older than you " '' Not more than eight, Gerald." *' Listen. You will have, of course, to do everything I tell you." -Shall I really?" "Yes; I mean it. And to begin with, you must be civil to the people that Clarence brings here. They may be the biggest GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 127 bores possible, but you have got to behave well to them, and especially to Mr. Warren." '' I can't, Gerald. I hate him, and I shall not speak to him again if I can help it." ** That is a babyish way of talking. You will have to go back to school, if you can't behave like a grown-up person. Look here, I don't like Warren either, and I don't sup- pose Clarence does ; but don't you see, the company depends upon him. He has got all the money. The house and the whole thing belongs to him, really and literally ; at least, if he withdrew, we couldn't go on for a month, and so he must be kept in a good temper. If I am thrown out of this work, I shall have to go to the Colonies, and then I don't know what would become of you. Now you see it is our interest to be civil to Mr. Warren." Ada sighed. 128 GERALD. '' To oblige you," she said. " But I hope he won't come here much. At any rate, I'm glad you don't like him." " I should be happy to kick him out of the house," said her brother. Ada sat looking up at him, as he stared out of the window, with the enthusiastic devo- tion of sixteen. She liked Clarence, and was grateful to him ; he had always been kind to her ; but Gerald was her only own brother, the hero of all her hopes and fancies, to her mind the handsomest man and the finest gentleman in England. Their mother had spoilt him to the very utmost of her power, and since her death he had not wanted worshippers, though he had indeed been lonely enough since trouble came, and this distasteful work. He disliked it more than ever now. For the last two or three years he had been in the north of England GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 129 plodding away in a colliery office where his brother had put him ; solitary, of course, among his companions, who yet liked and respected him. For there really was some- thing fine about Gerald, inferior as he was to what poor Mrs. Fane and Ada thought him. He had breeding, character, ambition ; he disdained to shine among the associates to whom fate had condemned him ; but his false position filled him with that sensitive pride which had made him so bitterly regret going to John Goodall's wedding. Poor fellow ! he had certainly made a mess of his life so far. Two years in the army had been enough to run through the few thousand pounds that his mother had left him ; he had been even more careless and thoughtless than most boys of his age. But all that seemed long ago now ; at four-and-twenty, Gerald was begin- ning to feel himself a dismal, respectable old VOL. I. . K I30 GERALD. man ; a racehorse obliged to plod in a cart for the rest of his broken-down days, and yet conscious that all the strength and swift- ness were hidden somewhere in him still. " How do you like the house ? " said Gerald presently. '' Do you think it is all right ? Have I got everything proper ? " '' I think it is all lovely. Did you get this nice furniture ? " " Well, it had to be furnished. Clarence said it was to be comfortable, so I got every- thing I thought necessary. I am rather proud of the arm-chairs ; have you tried them yet ? That bookcase is a success, I think, and the piano is a good one. But it all wants a lady, of course." " It has got one now," said Ada. She jumped up and walked round the room, in which the most aesthetic taste could hardly have wished anything altered. Its GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 131 inspiration might perhaps have been found between the quiet boards of Mr. Morris's *' Hopes and Fears for Art," which was lying on a small table ; yet there was more of comfort than he and his school would quite have approved of; and Mrs. Fane, who had had great troubles, looked down sadly from the wall on her two darling children. "• Oak, china, books, nice greens and blues," said Ada, as she wandered round. '* Oh yes, it's all very satisfying, but there is one thing we want, Gerald." ''What?" '^Flowers, and things to hold them. Tm sure my lady is fond of flowers, and I know she will come, whatever you may say." Gerald laughed. ** There are plenty outside," he said, and then he got up from his chair and began following her lazily round. K 2 1 132 GERALD. Standing at the bookcase, he took out a book, and turned over the leaves, while she opened the piano and ran her fingers up and down. " Take care," he said ; '* perhaps you will bring Mr. Warren upstairs." Ada shut the piano with an exclamation. " I don't see why you and I should not live like civilised people, Ada," he said gravely. "These men won't be down here very often ; the affairs are a good deal left to me, and as It is our house, I think it had better be a regular house, you know. You can look after the housekeeping ; the cook Is a good sort of woman, and if you are In any trouble you can come to me." " Oh no, I shall never come to you," said Ada. " Don't be so conceited ; really you are priggish. It will be delightful fun, and I shall order all kinds of nice things. By- the-by, do you have five o'clock tea ? " GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 133 '^ Never. That's a feast unknown. I don't come In till after six. You will want it, of course, so mind you order it to-morrow morning." " Perhaps I shall have the pleasure of pouring it out for Miss , Mr. Goodall's cousin. I do wish I knew her name." " What did you say she was like '^ Tell me again," said Gerald, his face still bent over his book. " She is like a symphony of Beethoven's which I learned the other day. And you are like my Hungarian March, Gerald. I wonder that never struck me before." "Can't you answer a plain question?" " Don't be cross. Her hair and eyes are dark ; but her eyes are much more than dark — they are so soft and smiling, It makes one happy to look at them. Her complexion is pale, her lips are red ; I think her mouth is a 134 GERALD, lovely shape. I don't know that I ever saw a beautiful person, they are so very rare ; but if I did, she is one. There is a sort of cut look about her nose " '' Oh, by Jove ! " exclaimed Gerald, with a sudden laugh. '* What is the matter ? " " Nothing ; only your description. It is very good after all. Go on." Ada hesitated, half offended, but she went on : ''When I first saw her, I felt afraid to speak to her, she looked so cold, and grave, and grand, but presently she began to look at me, quite absently at first, till her eyes woke up, and then I saw she was a perfect darling." ''Was there a dog anywhere about?" said Gerald after a pause. " Yes. Mr. Goodall brought a collie, and he pulled to go to her, and she went and GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 135 patted him. Then Clarence came and took me away." " I know who she is — Miss Meynell, Mrs. Goodall's cousin. I saw her at the wedding," said Gerald, quietly putting back his book, and walking to the window. Ada was full of exclamations. ** Did you speak to her at the wedding } Will she remember you ? '* '* Yes, I spoke to her. I took her in to breakfast, and we had a little talk about dogs. I saw no more of her, for she went away in the afternoon. No, I don't suppose she will remember me." '' And didn't you admire her tremendously ? How very funny men are ! " " She is very handsome," said Gerald. '* Don't you call her beautiful ? " He stood at the window with his hands in his pockets, and looked out at the sky. 136 GERALD, " We shall have a wet day to-morrow." Just then a tramping of feet on the stairs, and a fumbling with the handle of the door, announced Mr. Warren, who came In rather noisily. " Well, Fane, you are very quiet up here. How does Miss Fane like her new home — eh ? She'll soon make it pretty, I bet you. How did you come to do up this room in such a gloomy style ? This young lady ought to be surrounded with roses and lilies and forget-me- nots." '' She prefers high art and sunflowers," said Gerald, turning from the window. '' Then certainly she ought to have every- thing she does prefer. I have left your brother downstairs over the accounts. He is too de- voted to business, In my opinion. Now I think your head is none the less clear if you give it a little rest, spare time and thoughts GERALD FANE'S HOUSE. 137 to make yourself agreeable, and so I told him. I said that with a charming lady in the house, his dry old books shouldn't keep me any longer, and I advised him to follow me up without delay. But he's an awful persevering fellow, that brother of yours. And too clever — too clever by half, Mr. Fane." *' He likes his work," said Gerald. He had strolled back along the room, so as to stand between Ada and Mr. Warren, who had arranged himself comfortably in the largest arm-chair. Gerald did not know when he had thought the man so repulsive. "Are you a musician, Miss Fane?" said Mr. Warren, in his thick unpleasant tones. "Would you mind playing something?" said Gerald, going up to his sister. She looked up imploringly into his face, flushed and distressed ; all her happy spirit and fun were gone. Her lips moved, and she said : 138 GERALD. ''Must I?'* " Do, please/' said Gerald in the same undertone. He stood by her at the piano, while she played the wild romantic Hungarian March which she said reminded her of him. Mr. Warren at first kept time and applauded loudly, but in the middle of her next piece she and Gerald were both startled by a sudden snore. She looked up laughing at her brother, who was frowning ferociously. When the music was over, as he slept comfortably on, the two young people w^ent quietly out together, and Ada had her first walk about the old garden in the twilight. But her question about Miss Meynell was not answered that evening. CHAPTER IX. Helen's house. Theo looked out from her high window at that stormy sunset. She saw it through and over a veil of lurid smoke, which made strange effects of colour quite new to her eyes. Mr. Goodall's house stood on high ground, facing west ; in front of it there was a kind of small park with trees ; then came the village of Woodcote, in which old thatched cottages, some of them half-timbered, were mixed with ugly rows of new red brick. The high road ran down to the north of Wood- cote House, and through the chief part of I40 GERALD. the village. Lower in the valley it passed by Mr. Goodall's great pottery works, on the way to Mainley, which lay to the north again. All the broad valley which lay west of Wood- cote was traversed by the railway, and one colliery succeeded another along its length ; there were brickworks, too, adding their sul- phur-smoke to the blackness which disfigured a once pretty country. Theo's window, in the new and highest part of Mr. Goodall's house, had a view across this valley to hills far distant ; but beyond the railway, between her and them, there ran a green ridge with a line of Scotch firs and a group of poplars at the end of them, and more trees that seemed to cluster round build- ings ; beyond these the setting sun certainly caught some roofs of houses. Helen had apologised for the smoke that was to be seen from her cousin's window — HELEN'S HOUSE. 141 John had planted trees, but they were not yet grown tall enough to hide it. Theo said the smoke was rather beautiful, and she liked to see it ; at which Helen laughed amiably. Theo was very happy that evening. She had hardly known what it was to be cheerful all the summer, since the sad afternoon of the wedding, when Hugh took her away to his father's deathbed. Colonel North had lingered on a few days after that, but he was either unconscious or in great pain ; and after he died Theo's only course had been to go straight to her grandmother. Certainly the time spent with poor Lady Redcliff had been neither peace nor rest. It was pleasant to be with Helen again — dear soft old Nell, always, in her lazy way, affectionate and comforting, and quite un- changed by her eccentric step of marrying John Goodall. It was amusing to see her 142 GERALD. perfect content with the worthy man she had chosen, her seeming unconsciousness of his defects, her placid satisfaction with everything, except the smoke, that surrounded her. The house was most successful. The furniture was, perhaps, a little too smart and new, too great a contrast with the old distinguished shabbiness of Linwood. This was a difficult point, and Mr. Goodall would not have allowed dogs in the house, even if Helen had cared for them, which she did not. ''You and I must scratch and tear about a little, Theo," said Helen. ''We shall soon make the things look a little worn and nice. You may forget sometimes, and let Wool come in, when John isn't here to drive him out. John doesn't quite understand, you see ; he thinks things ought always to be new." But this, and a few other such small differences, seemed to be the only things that HELEN'S HOUSE. 143 ruffled Helen's serenity. The outside of her house was not by any means disagreeably new. It was large, and built of red brick. Part of it might have been a hundred years old, but all the best rooms had been added by Mr. Goodall a few years ago, and most of the front was covered with climbing roses and clematis. A flight of white steps, with a fine glaring balustrade, was the ugliest und most pretentious thing about it ; but the garden, with large old trees in it, sloped prettily down to the park, and the flowers were splendid. The greenhouses, as well as the yards and stables, would have done credit to a much larger place. Altogether, many people might have thought Helen a fortunate woman. Helen was delighted, for her part, to have her cousin with her again. She had thought of her at intervals, all through the summer. It was true that she had not written 144 GERALD. to her much, but Colonel North's death had been a kind of separation, just as his illness all that last winter had been. Helen had always respected Uncle Henry, but she knew very well that he had never cared for her. This did not trouble her, but it made it diffi- cult to sympathise heartily enough with Theo's grief at the loss of him. Then John was a difficulty. He had begun his married life, like other mistaken men, by taking an immense interest in his wife's smallest concerns ; and therefore of course in her correspondence. He thought it a duty and privilege to read all her letters. This bored Helen a little ; she had not been quite prepared for such absolute possession. It did not really make much difference to her, for she hated writing, and had no intimate friend but Theo ; but the worst of it was that John, reading Theo's very unconventional HELEN'S HOUSE. 145 letters, became rather prejudiced against her. He thought Theo gave herself airs, and that Helen need not ask her to stay with them just yet. Before his marriage he had been meek and respectful about Theo, but this good state of mind had passed away. Helen did not trouble herself to contradict him much, or to resent these opinions of his. She was really very fond of him in her way, and quite appreciated his devotion to herself. She therefore dropped the subject of her friend Theo, till one day Hugh North's letter came, giving such a melancholy account of her. This brought out all the kindness and good-nature for which John Goodall had been given credit by his new relations. He was going to London on business, and he himself proposed that he should go to Lady Redcliff's, and bring Theo away with him. ** And it's no use doing things by halves," VOL. I. 146 GERALD. said he. " When you have got her, you had better keep her a good long time." Helen smiled on him with great approval, and so he had carried out his plan, with satis- faction to himself and pity for Theo, which was much increased by his interview with her grandmother. It was nearly a year since the two friends had seen much of each other, and they seemed to be back in that happy old time — that time when Theo's freer life had sometimes been a subject of secret envy to Helen, who was getting tired of the rule of her stepmother. No Mr. Goodall had appeared on the scene then. After all, Theo saw, and she was not sorry to confess it, that her cousin was contented. Helen said she was happy, but some one has said that those who have never seen happiness may pass through life mistaking content for HELEN'S HOUSE. 147 her. Perhaps this depends on their own characters ; perhaps natures Hke Helen's are not deep enough to hold happiness if she comes to them. Helen came downstairs again late that night, leaving Theo in her room, and found her husband, who did not smoke, still sitting in the drawing-room. He was reading, but he laid down his book, and was quite ready to welcome her. He wanted to tell her all that he had been doing in London ; it was a new thing to have his wife's attention taken away from him, and he had not enjoyed that evening much, and was a little inclined to regret all he had so generously said about '' a long visit ; " but Helen knew how to drive these selfish thoughts away, for John was very much in love with her still. ''Well, you have got your friend, so I hope you are contented," he said at last when L 2 148 GERALD. he had given her a full account of his adventures. "Quite contented, thank you," said Helen with a small yawn. "Isn't she handsome?" " Very, I suppose, in her own style ; but she is gone off since the wedding." "Well, a little thinner; but she has had a good deal of bother, you know, and she looked better than usual that day. She is a most excellent creature, John. How she puts up with that awful grandmother of hers is a mystery to me ! " " She is awful," said John in a slightly lowered tone, as if Lady Redcliff might have come in at the door. " But somehow, do you think there is any likeness " " Likeness between my Theo and that horrid old woman ! " exclaimed his wife. " My dear boy, you are out of your mind." HELEN'S HOUSE. 149 " No ; I'll soon tell you what I mean. Your cousin is not of a meek disposition." *' She Is tremendously generous and for- giving, and has not a shadow of conceit." *' Ah ! but she Is not meek — there Is no humility about her." *' I don't know that. She thinks less of herself than I do." " I am not disputing the fact that she Is a perfect character," said John with a grave smile. " But if you will let me finish what I was saying " *' Make haste ; Fm very sleepy." '' Yes ; I was going to say that I saw no signs of her giving in to Lady Redcllff. I should say that she made life bearable by holding her own, and having her own way, and I think that In strength of will, posltive- ness, and so on, she is probably a match for her grandmother. A good thing too. I50 GERALD, A manageable young woman would be miser- able, cowed, a mere slave, In the hands ot an old witch like that." ''Oh, as to that, nobody except Uncle Henry could ever manage Theo, and that was just because she was fond of him." " I thought so. She would be difficult to manage," said Mr. Goodall. "And as she is fond of you, perhaps you will be able to keep her from making friends with these Fanes." '' Don't torment yourself about that," said Helen serenely. " I see nothing so dreadful, after all, in her trying to help the girl." " Nor should I, if I liked the connection." '' Connection ! " said Helen, making a little face. " Well, now you do frighten me. Your young Fane certainly did admire her very much at the wedding — but it was not my fault that he came, remember." HELEN'S HOUSE, 151 " I quite acknowledge that It was mine," said John, reddening up to his hair. '' But look here, Helen, if you see the remotest possibility, your cousin had better go back to her grandmother at once. We must run no risks of that kind.'' '' You really are actually frightened," said Helen. '* My dear, if Mr. Fane chose to be such an idiot, he might as well cry for the moon. The man doesn't exist who is good enough for Theo. Can you look at her face and not see how proud she is, how she would scorn any poor whipper-snapper who dared One thing, John, please remember — never make a joke on that subject to her. If she understood you she would be very angry.S Mr. Goodall smiled. "• Well, I don't think Fane is a fool," he said, *' and she has not much money, which makes it safer, for they are a scheming lot, 152 GERALD. I suspect. I'm sorry, though, that she has made acquaintance with them. You had better not let It go any further. I don't want you to go and see them, and she will hardly go by herself, I Imagine." " I can't say what she may do," said Helen. '' I was put out by the sight of those two fellows," he went on after a pause, ''and I said one or two things about Litton which I rather regret now. I have no proof of any- thing against him, and It Is unbusinesslike to put one's suspicions Into words, as I did to your cousin to-day. I said something about LItton's having been generous with other people's money. It would not do for that to come to his ears — you understand," he said, looking at Helen anxiously. " What do you mean ? " she said, yawning. " Would it be as well to say to your HELEN'S HOUSE. 153 cousin In case she should meet Miss Fane again " '* What enormous caution ! " said Helen. " Speak to her if you like, certainly, but I am quite sure she has forgotten every word you said long ago. And if she remembers it, she is neither wicked nor foolish enough to repeat it." *' Ah, well, ladies don't always think what they are saying, but I dare say you are right," said the excellent John, a little disconcerted. CHAPTER X. DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. Helen was a consistently lazy person, both in mind and body. She never walked if she could help it, and young as she was, a morning's stroll about the garden was often enough to tire her for the afternoon. But the day after Theo came she was unusually active, and they stayed out all the morning with the dogs in the park and garden. Theo wanted to see everything, and it amused Helen to show her old friend all her new possessions. They went to the stable, and inspected Aster after his journey. Helen had DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 155 learnt from Theo long ago to be at home among horses and dogs ; these were among the tastes which Mrs. Fraser thought useless and unfemlnlne, blaming Colonel North for encouraging them in his adopted child. At luncheon Mr. Goodall proposed that they should go out for a drive In the after- noon, but the day was Inclined to be rainy and windy, and Helen preferred staying at home. '' Go to your work and leave us In peace," she said, smiling at John. ''Theo and I will be quite happy indoors ; we have plenty to talk about, and after all, there are no pretty drives." "You don't look for them; there are more than you think. You make no use of the horses at all," he said, a litde Injured. '' I told you not to buy them for me," 156 GERALD. said Helen placidly. ''You didn't suppose I should be one of those martyrs who exer- cise their horses every afternoon ? Take Theo out, and let her drive, If you want to make her happy." '' I should be very glad, but the carriage Is not suited for that kind of thing." " Poor Theo ! We are much too tame and civilised for you," said Helen. " Will you let me walk down with you and see your works ?" said Theo, looking up at Mr. Goodall, whose face brio-htened ; for a moment he had seemed to feel as If he understood neither of them. ''Any other day I should be most happy," he said. " But I have to go to Malnley this afternoon. I will take you all over them some day, If you like. They might Interest you, If you have never seen anything of the kind." DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 157 "■ I know they would Interest me," said Theo. "It Is going to rain, and you are to stay quietly with me this afternoon," said Helen. She was perfectly contented with this arrangement, and rather liked a wet day, which gave her an excuse for being really comfortable. A novel, a sofa, perfect liberty to talk, read, or sleep as she pleased — Helen wanted very little more to make her life happy. Theo had often rebelled violently against this state of mind in her cousin, and had now and then succeeded In making her ashamed of It. She saw that Helen's marriage had not made her at all more energetic ; but that day she did not speak her mind. They were not quite the old two ; perhaps they never would be again. 158 GERALD, Looking at Helen's soft face on the cushion, the book drooping in her hand as if she hardly cared to hold it, Theo felt rather sad. The rain dashed in storms against the windows ; they talked a little at intervals ; then Helen turned over a page ; then her eyelids dropped for a few minutes ; then she woke up and talked again. At last she fell sound asleep, and then Theo got up and went to the window. As she looked out, the clouds were growing thinner and hurrying faster every moment ; light began to shine in the distance, beyond the wild flying mist of rain ; the hills, far away, were in sunshine now, and the whole air began to be flooded with a yellow brilliancy. Theo watched it for a few minutes, and then turned round to look once more at the smart, but dismal room, and her cousin asleep on the sofa. DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 159 'A little later, she and Wool walked down the drive together, and turned into the village street. The good mothers of Woodcote, look- ing out of their doors when the rain stopped, watched her with curiosity and interest as she passed — tall, erect, graceful, walking fast, going away into the country. They never saw Mrs. Goodall march off alone like this ; in fact, they hardly ever saw her at all, except driving by, for Mr. Goodall was nervous, about infectious diseases, and did not like his wife to go into cottages, though he was generous to the people, and ready to help them in any other way. Some of these women who watched Theo knew that Mrs. Goodall's cousin was staying with her. It was the fashion at Woodcote to think Helen a beauty. They were not so sure about this young lady ; she was of a type they did not so well understand. Looking so proud, and i6o GERALD. straight, and fearless, with her large black dog running by her side, these good people were a little alarmed at Theo. Only one girl, who had had great trouble, and who was crossing the road just then, and spoke to Wool, and met Theo's eyes with a smile, gave It as her opinion that this lady was worth a dozen of Mrs. Goodall. Theo wished to explore the country, but she did not feel at all inclined to go down the straight high-road, between rows of new houses, and past the great pottery works. In the middle of the village, near the church, a lane struck off to the left, and she turned along this, while the rain came flashing down again between her and the sun, and up to the left a great arch of rainbow rose above Mr. Goodall's trees and chimneys. The western distance, which attracted her, was all in a wet golden haze ; even the colliery smoke was DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. i6i gilded, and hung about in the valley, a dark beautiful mist. In this part of the village the houses were old and thatched, with thick whitewashed walls ; broken flights of steps led up to them ; their little bright gardens were perched on banks of grass and stones. Here and there was an opening into a field, with a rough stile, and a bit of tall straggling hedge, red with hawthorn-berries. All this was old Woodcote of many years ago, before engi- neers and manufacturers had found out its hidden treasures. Perhaps — for he was a man of this country — Mr. Goodall's grandfather had lived and brought up his children under one of these thatched roofs. Theo and Wool followed the lane, which went climbing slowly southward along the high ground, gradually becoming more stony and rough, and leaving the houses behind. Up here there were one or two small home- VOL. I. M i62 GERALD. Steads built of sandstone, which cropped out pretty often In the road Itself. One was a little farm with red pigs routing about In Its tumble-down yard ; another had a timber- yard, and behind It the fields seemed to fall steeply and suddenly away Into the valley, where the white smoke of a train was stealing along now. Theo walked on fast. She liked the cool rainy air, the freshness of the high ground, with Its foreground of ruddy hedges, and dis- tance full of golden mystery. Her spirits rose ; she was happy, she felt free and adven- turous, and wondered how any one could call this country dull, or ugly, or uninteresting. The rough untidy lane was far enough from civilisation, certainly ; there was a different life stirring from any she had ever known before, for her home with Colonel North had been in the rich luxurious peace of Kent, and DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 163 Linwood, too, had dark palings, and neat roads, and model cottages about it. This was a strange sort of country — not lonely, and yet wild ; dishevelled, hard, pulled about by the rough hands that made their living out of it ; yet the children were rosy and smiling, and a merry firelight streamed out of the cottage doors, and plenty of trees grew in the hedgerows, and the sun shone on pleasant hills and valleys, from which the mist was clearing away every moment. That ridge with its Scotch firs and poplars, which Theo had first seen from her window, seemed very near her now ; she could see it across the valley, a mile or two away ; the roofs of one or two farmhouses peeped out among the trees. But between her and it lay the valley, with its railway and mines and brickworks. She could hear the working of the engines, and could look down upon the M 2 1 64 GERALD. black groups of buildings, the great waste banks, the pools of water. Every now and then all seemed hidden in smoke and mist ; then a clearer view would come, as a fresh wind raised the curtain and drove it along the valley. Presently she came to the top of a lane, which turned out of her own lane, and went down a deep pitch into the valley. Wool ran on that way at once, and his mistress followed him. The road dived down in a hollow of its own between rocky banks, with low oak-trees almost arching overhead, their roots half bare among the crumbling stones. Blackberry bushes hung down in a thick tap- estry, and the sun now filled the hollow with flickering lights and shadows. Below, where the banks were not so steep, the road, shining with rain and yellow sunlight, was like a golden path sweeping down into the valley. Theo went down, following her road with DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 165 out much thought of where it was taking her, only conscious of a happy freedom and the joy of discovery. She had met no one since she left the village, but with Wool she never felt lonely. She went down, down, and found herself descending upon a large colliery which to her eyes looked deserted. She saw great black wheels high up in the air, but they were not going round ; the long roofs, the mounds, the low round brick-kilns, with slow black smoke stealing up from one or two of them, all seemed to be uninhabited and left to take care of themselves. She had expected to see a crowd of colliers with grimy faces hurrying here and there, and to hear a Babel of rough voices ; she saw nothing but machinery and buildings, and heard nothing but a low gut- tural noise of pumping and fizzing, which went on by itself, to all seeming, without any human agency. 1 66 GERALD. She stood In the lane for a few minutes, some distance above the gate of the colliery. She could still look down on it, and on the railway beyond, and she was aware that there were more chimneys and buildings to the left, further up the valley. The immediate neighbourhood of her col- liery did not look inviting. Its gate opened into a road with deep ruts of black mud, with wild rank grass and coarse weeds growing on each side. Just beyond, by the roadside, there was a great pond of poisonous-looking water, with green and yellow lights in it. This pond was gradually spreading itself; the road had been raised above it, but was damp and spongy and full of holes, and on the other side a flat meadow was becoming a marsh, out of whose unnatural greenness some sad black trunks stood up with a dismal ghostly air against the sky ; the roots had been DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 167 sapped and poisoned and killed by the creeping water. Still all was silent and lonely, and at this moment the sun was covered by wild clouds sweeping up from the west; there was a sudden chill In the wind, and Wool, as his mistress paused before walking on Into this desolation, came and sat down beside her, and gave a small whine. " You don't want to go back, Wool ? " said Theo. *' This Is all so very odd and savage, we must discover a little more. Don't you like It much better than London ? " Wool got up and wagged his tall. He was not quite sure : he only knew that he liked whatever she chose to do, and he followed her obediently down the last little slope of the hill. She stopped again at the gate ; there was still no one to be seen ; she pushed It open and turned Into the black road. She 1 68 GERALD. was soon In the midst of the buildings, crossing Iron rails on which some trucks were standing, and following narrow muddy ways between long low sheds, in which she now perceived that bricks were drying. Then she found herself In the warm light that poured out from the red glowing furnace of a brick- kiln. Then two or three wild-looking boys, all besmeared with clay, crossed her path and stared at her and the dog as if they were creatures from another country. Theo stopped the tallest and most intelligent-looking of these boys, and asked him if any work was going on. '' Yes," he said. " Where are the men ?" said Theo. " Down the pit." *' Does anybody — can I go down the pit ?" she said dreamily, fixing her eyes on the boy. DOWN INTO THE VALLEY, 169 He grinned, and looked at her from head to foot. Then his handsome smiHng eyes met hers. *' 'Taint fit for you," he said. "But I should like it," said Theo. *' Where is the pit? Can you take me down '^, " He shook his head. ''Yonder," he said, and pointed to a black and gray bank and a high stage of machinery. ''Down in there?" said Theo. "And if you work here, why are not you black ? " " I work in the clay," he said, looking away as if to hide his amusement ; to him she was evidently a new and charming and refined sort of idiot. "Well, thank you," said Theo. She was looking at him, considering whether he was too old and too nice to care for sixpence. I70 GERALD. " Where do you live ? " "Up at Deerhurst," he said, nodding his head westward. *'Is that Deerhurst where the trees are?" "Yes." " How very near! " said Theo. Suddenly, to end this strange little talk, a wild shower came flying down over the colliery with such hurried violence that she looked round for shelter. She was stepping into the dark recesses of the nearest shed, when the door of a low red building behind her opened. She had been standing with her back to this little house, hardly noticing it, as she talked to the boy, and even he had been too much interested in her to see that someoody was looking out of the window — somebody whose glance would have sent him away to his work in pretty quick time. . DOWN INTO THE VALLEY, 171 But now the door was opened, and a grave young man came out Into the rain. **The office is not comfortable, but If you would care to take shelter '^ he began In a low Indifferent voice, which yet had a little effort In It, and though his eyes were quiet enough, a flush came up Into his face as Theo looked at him. She held out her hand, smiling, and a little startled too. *' Mr. Fane! This Is very funny," she said. "Yes; you remember me .'^ That's the funniest part of all, somehow," said Gerald, his eyes brightening suddenly. '' Do come in. I have a chair for you, If there is nothing else. Come in, old fellow. Your one dog, isn't he ? — and he deserves the honour." The sweet ready recognition had raised the poor fellow's spirits to a wild height 172 GERALD. of joy. Ashamed of his squalid surroundings, of his shabby coat even, for he was almost a boy, he had watched her from the window with a half resolve to hide himself, and to take no advantage of the accident which must have brought her there. But the rain made that course impossible. Theo was very much amused, and really pleased to see Mr. Fane again. The thought of Mr. Goodall and his opinions crossed her mind without interfering at all with her enjoyment of this little adventure. She sat in a very hard chair in the dark gloomy office, looking quite as beautiful, Gerald thought, as when he had first seen her radiant in white and flowers in the chancel of Linwood Church on that happy, miserable wedding-day. She sat there and talked delightfully, while he stood by the window and tried to talk without looking at her, afraid DOWN INTO THE VALLEY. 173 that she might see the wild thoughts which were flying through his mind. But he need not have been afraid of any such discern- ment on Theo's part. His thoughts did not at present trouble her at all ; besides, poor boy ! he had been well trained in hiding them successfully. CHAPTER XL AFTER THE RAIN. They talked at first on their old subject of dogs, and especially about Wool, who sat between them, looking intelligently from one to the other. Gerald would have liked to ask Theo what turns of road, and fate, and fancy had brought her into the middle of his colliery, the last place on earth where a visitor to Mr. Goodall might have been expected to appear ; but for this very reason he felt a little awkward- ness, and asked no questions. After all, he had not room for much curiosity in his mind ; the charm and wonder of seeinof her there drove out all other feelinp-s. AFTER THE RAIN. 175 Presently she began to remark on what she had seen outside the furnaces — the clay- covered boys, the quiet way in which so much work was carried on. '' And are you the head of it all ? " she said. '' I am the manager. I'm paid," said Gerald. '' My brother and another man are the chiefs of the concern." ''Do you go down the pit?" said Theo, '' or do you stay all day in this room '^. " '' No," he said smiling. '' It doesn't look, does it, like a place to stay all day in ? I go down the pit pretty often to see that all is right there. This isn't our best room. Miss Meynell. There is a better one inside ; the clerks work out here ; but it is locked to-day, and my brother has the key in his pocket. I wish he hadn't." " This is quite good enough for a shelter 17 6 GERALD. from the rain," said Theo. '' But you must be very glad to go home in the evening." '' Yes ; don't you think it must be a de- graded sort of life ? " said Gerald, looking at her sadly. '' I was not thinking so," said Theo. After a moment's pause, she went on : "How is your sister .^ Did she tell you how we met yesterday ? " '' She could talk of nothing but your kind- ness. And from her description, and from the fact of your being with Mr. Goodall, I guessed who you must be." " I was not able to do anything for her, after all," said Theo. "And is she going to live always with you ? " At that moment some one passed the window, and Gerald, without answering her, rushed out into the little passage. " What are you doing in there 't Are you AFTER THE RAIN. 177 ready ? " asked a rather pleasant voice. '' I have left Warren to entertain Ada in the road. She's awfully disgusted. She had better What dog is that ? ''* Gerald answered with a few muttered words. Theo felt suddenly a little vexed with both him and herself; the shower had been nothing ; though the office window did not show much light, it was evidently over now. She got up, and walked out with her coldest and quietest air into the passage, en- countering Mr. Litton at the door. There was certainly a likeness between the brothers. Gerald Fane, when he was a few years older, might look as hard and worn and unscrupulous as this man, whose bold, shrewd, sneering face was still rather hand- some, and not altogether disagreeable. Theo, though she looked at him, was quite uncon- scious of the slight surprised smile which VOL. I. N 178 GERALD. greeted her as she walked out of the office door. Gerald was only too well aware of it, and his eyes flashed, but he kept his temper down, and introduced the two to each other. ''You are an old acquaintance of my brother's, I think. Miss Meynell," said Clarence Litton, as he and Gerald walked with Theo towards the gate. *' Yes," said Theo. '' But I do not know this country at all, and Mr. Fane appeared at the right moment, and gave me shelter from the rain. You were telling me about your sister," she said, turning to Gerald. '* Is she really going to live with you ? " *' I hope so," he answered. *' A sister like ours is a great anxiety," said Mr. Litton. '' We must try this experi- ment ; but I am not sure that these two are not too young to take care of each other. AFTER THE RAIN. 179 Don't you think so, Miss Meynell, from what you have seen of them ? " '' I don't know. I hardly think Mr. Fane would have left his sister for so many hours at the station yesterday," said Theo very quietly. But she just lifted her eyes, and Gerald caught a glance which made him silently happy. " I can't say what he might have done, but certainly it was wrong of me," said Clarence Litton. '' But I had motives — I had ends in view ; and even one's sister must give way sometimes to business arrangements ; she may not be the worse off in the end ; and I think she has forgiven me now. She ought to remember that she might never have spoken to you if it had not been for me." *' Oh yes — we were coming down into the same neighbourhood," said Theo. *' And you " began Mr. Litton ; but he N 2 i8o GERALD, checked himself, with a glance at Gerald, for the young fellow looked a little dangerous, and the end of his sentence might have bordered on being impertinent. It would be a fine thing to chaff Gerald about by-and-by, that opportune shelter from the rain, which, after all, had stopped almost as soon as it began ; but with a girl like this, it would not do to approach within a mile of a joke on the subject. Mr. Litton had instinct enough to know that, though of late years his acquaintance had not been among very refined women. As they came down the muddy road to the gate, Ada Fane, who was standing there with Mr. Warren, hurried eagerly to meet them. Her companion stood staring, and amusing himself with a low whistle. Gerald had never before felt so bitterly ashamed of him, or quite perceived what a repulsive object AFTER THE RAIN. i8i he was. He tried to stand between him and Miss Meynell, that she might not see him, and devoutly hoped that Clarence would not dare to introduce him to her. '' I did not expect to see you again so soon," said Theo, taking Ada's hand. The girl was almost breathless with delight. She was entirely mystified ; she could not imagine what had brought her friend here, but she looked from her to her brother with quick shy pleasure. •* Oh, Gerald, you were right then ; it is Miss Meynell, and she remembers you ! " With Clarence sardonically smiling in the background, Gerald could not help flushing as he answered : *' Yes ; it came on to rain, and Miss Mey- nell happened to be walking through the colliery, and I looked out of the office, quite by accident " i82 GERALD. He stopped, flushing a little more, for nobody but Clarence seemed to be listening to him. " I am very fond of walking about and discovering things," Theo explained, looking down into Ada's fair wondering face. " I meant to discover you some day, but this is sooner than I hoped." Mr. Warren stood by the gate and stared at her as she walked through. She did not even give him a glance, but, with the slightly imperious air which sometimes belonged to her quite unconsciously, she took possession of Ada, and walked on with her along the dismal black lane towards the railway. The three men found themselves left behind. Gerald walked apart from the others, with his eyes on the ground. Mr. Warren began grinning and asking questions. " That's a fine young woman ; where did you meet her, Fane ? Does she take an AFTER THE RAIN. 183 Interest In brlckmaking ? It's the same that came down with Goodall yesterday. A relation of his wife's, I suppose. Now I'm singular, I dare say, in admiring Miss Ada the most of that pair. As to you, ;, Fane, if that's your taste, I don't wonder you feel yourself above your work, poor chap ! I say, has she got any money ? " " He's sensitive, don't chaff him, Warren," said Clarence, having caught some mutter- ings under Gerald's breath, which conveyed hints of throwing somebody into the ditch. " It's a pity if he can't take a joke," said Warren. ''Tell you what, Litton," as the young man suddenly went on with long strides and overtook Miss Meynell and her sister ; '' that brother of yours is the worst feature in this concern." '' He does his work ; we have nothing to complain of" 1 84 GERALD. '' He does his work, but he hates it all the time. He hasn't a bit of gratitude in his nature. Where would he be, I should like to know, if it wasn't for you and me ? And he's got a nasty cross temper. That little sister of his will be an angel if she can put up with him, as she must for a year or two, I suppose." " Thanks ; don't trouble yourself about that, they get on perfectly well." *' I hate all that disgusting conceit in a fellow who owes other people the very rags he stands up in," Mr. Warren went on grumbling, on which Clarence burst into a short laugh. *' After all, Warren, he's my brother." ** Your half-brother, and vou think a ereat deal too much of him for your own interests. What are they stopping for ? " After passing under the railway, the lane AFTER THE RAIN. 185 made a turn under some large oak-trees, beyond which lay a brown field of standing sheaves, and then the ground sloped up to another road and some red cottages, which were the outskirts of Deerhurst. The lane here began to climb, and the three young people had paused at the top of a steep little hill, where a footpath led back across a clover-field to the railway, and so up and along the eastern ridge to Woodcote. "The short cut to Woodcote," said Mr. Litton, as he and his companion followed them up the lane. " Miss Meynell's best way back, which no doubt Gerald is going to show her." "Meynell! is that her name?" said Mr. Warren, looking sharply at him. " I have heard that name before. I say, didn't one of those Norths marry a Meynell ? " Clarence Litton's yellow skin turned a little yellower. i86 ' GERALD. " I think so," he said quietly. " It did not strike me at once, but I beHeve they are all dead." " I'm alive, though," said Mr. Warren. " Why do you remind me of that ? " said Clarence, walking along with his eyes on the ground and his hands in his pockets. " For two reasons. First, that you may not forget that you have a friend capable of giving advice — and my advice is, in case of accidents, don't let those two charming young idiots of yours become intimate with that young lady. That's good advice, isn't It?" " Well ? " said Clarence coolly. " Also that you may not forget all you owe me, and how I mean to be paid. I sometimes think your memory is getting short on that subject. It's an old bargain, though, and I mean it to be carried out." AFTER THE RAIN. 187 " I don't forget anything," said Litton im- patiently. '' There is one condition though, you must remember." ''Only a matter of form." " I am not so sure of that," muttered his partner. "Well, Warren," he said, in his usual voice, ''don't be in such a fool of a hurry, and don't lose your temper. I thought so ; here is my sister coming back alone.'^ Poor Ada had felt herself a little injured when Gerald told her she had better go back ; a walk with him and Miss Meynell would have been so much pleasanter than one with Clarence and Mr. Warren, who would persist at staring at her and paying her compliments. But Gerald knew best, she was sure of that ; and when he said : " Clarence will want you ; you had better not come with me," she sub- mitted at once, only looking a little sad as she wished Miss Meynell good-bye, and i88 GERALD. watched the two as they set off across the field. Theo, who felt a real Interest in the child, had asked her one or two questions In the few minutes they were alone, and had found out that life with her brother was not yet quite the bright thing she had imagined It yesterday. "The people that come to the house — business people " — Ada had spoken of these with a sort of shrinking, and Theo was conscious enough of the appearance of Mr. Warren to feel strong sympathy. Neither did she care at all for the looks of Mr. Litton, and she thought that John Goodall's opinion of the two men was probably just enough. Gerald Fane seemed to her so very different, that the connection between these four became something queer, hard to understand, and In- teresting to the last degree. She was dreaming of this as she walked AFTER THE RAIN, 189 on with Gerald across the railway and up the high open fields that led towards Wood- cote. She could not very well question him about his circumstances, and he, not knowing how her thoughts were occupied, was afraid that he had bored her by offering to show her the way home. But presently she looked into her guide's face, as he was helping her over a stile, and was roused to a smile by the sort of reproachful sadness she saw there. *' I was thinking of your sister," she said hastily to explain herself. '' You must be very fond of her." '' Well, you see, she and I have nobody else ; and it's not much good my being fond of her." '* I am fond of her too," said Theo. "Are you.-^" he said rather vaguely. '' That's awfully kind of you." I90 GERALD. '* Oh no, I couldn't help it. But now, as I have told you that, may I say what I think?" '' Thank you, If you will," he said in a low voice. The things she said sounded so strange, so sweet, she looked so grave and earnest, and without the smallest affectation was so different from everybody else In the world, that he felt It was not only her beauty which made him literally long to throw himself at her feet. ''It Is very nice for her to live with you," said Theo, and her slight emphasis made him flush and smile. *' But if I were you — do forgive me, it is no business of mine " '' Please go on," said Gerald very meekly. Then he added as she hesitated a little : " You only saw that man Warren as you passed him just now, but you think I ought AFTER THE RAIN. 191 to kick him downstairs. I should Hke to, but one can't always indulge one's self." '' No," said Theo, '' I suppose not. But at least, if I were you, I should keep him out of my sister's way, if I had a dear little sister like that." ''You have no sisters?" '' I have no one at all, and perhaps that is why I am so very impertinent. Because I know nothing at all of you, or your arrange- ments — and possibly that friend of your brother's may be nice, though he looks rough ; but I think, somehow, he annoys your sister, and you will agree with me that she ought to be happy." '' I wish I had the means of making her so," said Gerald. '' But a fate pursues some people. Miss Meynell ; you know nothing of such lives as ours. I can't be happy, and I can't make her so, and unless we keep 192 GERALD. Warren in a good temper we may find our- selves starving. He gives me my work ; I can't quarrel with him, or forbid him the house because Ada doesn't like him." *' I am so sorry," said Theo, after a mo- ment's silence, for there was an almost pas- sionate sadness in the young man's voice. *' I am so very sorry I said anything at all. I might have known you would do every- thing you could." The walk was very short, and they were close upon Woodcote. Gerald did not answer this last speech of hers. ''You know the way now," he said; "and I think Mr. and Mrs. Goodall are coming to meet you. Good-bye." They were only a few yards beyond the last stile. Theo, at the moment, could think of nothing but her self-reproach. She let him go without a word. He was over the stile AFTER THE RAIN. 193 instantly, and half across the next field. She would almost have called him back, but John and Helen were really coming along the road, so she only turned her head and looked after him as he hurried away into the west, which was now all brilliant, the golden gate of her dreams. ''My dear Theo!" said Helen. The words were a thousand remonstrances, while Mr. Goodall, too, looked after the young man, and coughed a surprised disapproval. VOL. I. CHAPTER XII. MR. GOODALL HAS HIS WAY. '' You won't mind my saying so, Theo dear, but it really does not do to be quite so odd," said Helen, with the superiority of a married woman. They were in the drawing-room after dinner, and Mr. Goodall had not yet come in. Helen was looking down as she spoke, her long eyelashes were drooping, her fair head shone in the lamplight ; her mouth was smiling, for she was very much amused at what her cousin had been saying. She was not vexed, for she thought Theo was a little ashamed of her prank that afternoon. Theo MR. GOOD ALL HAS HIS WAY, 195 had explained how it all happened, and had told her what she and Mr. Fane had talked about on the way home ; this seemed quite a strange piece of condescension, and very satisfactory. Theo's meekness encouraged Helen to moralise a little, in hopes of checking these adventures for the future. " Am I odd ? How do you mean ? " said Theo. '' Well, my dear, talking over a man's family affairs with him, the second time you have seen him. I dare say he took it very nicely, but don't you think he must have been rather surprised ? " *' I was afraid he would be. I begged his pardon," said Theo. "Yes, I am sorry for some reasons. It seemed to remind him of so many tiresome things, poor boy ! I don't think he really minded, though." o 2 196 GERALD. '' Perhaps he felt that your interest was a compliment," said Helen, smiling still. "Some people like being pitied and fussed over, but I think," she added with sudden seriousness, '* it is a dangerous game, Theo, for a girl like you." She stopped and looked up at her cousin, but Theo seemed hardly to have heard her ; she was leaning forward on a table, with Caldecott's last picture-book before her, her hand shading her eyes. Helen thought she might as well go on a little further ; her husband's influence had made her anxious, by some means or other, to throw cold water on Theo's acquaintance with the Fanes. " You amuse me," she said, '' when you talk of Mr. Fane as 'poor boy.' When I saw him at the wedding he looked like any- thing but that. I am pretty sure he is older than you think, and very much less simple and MR. GOODALL HAS HIS WAY. 197 soft-hearted than you think. He has gone through a good deal before he came Into these parts. But perhaps the next time you see him he will confide the story of his life. When do you expect to meet him again, Theo ? " Theo did not answer for a moment, and Helen was almost afraid that she had gone too far ; she was venturing on the verge of those jokes which experience had taught her that Theo would not bear, even from her. But Theo was not thinking at all of her- self that evening, and it did not occur to her to be angry. '* He looked younger to-day than at the wedding," she said quietly. '* I dare say you are right, though ; he may have gone through a good deal, but of course that does not matter to us. What does matter is his sister, obliged to be in the house with those men. I don't like his brother at all — still 198 GERALD. he is the brother, and he is not unkind to her — but that other man is quite out of the question." '*My child," said Helen sorrowfully, "are you going to make it your mission to rescue all the girls who have horrid men in the house with them ? You had better build a sort of orphanage, and set up an order of women to look after them, and be yourself the first lady abbess." " There might be many worse ways of spending one's life," said Theo. Helen laughed a little. " No doubt," she said. " But I think you might find a worse case than Miss Fane's to begin with. She has two brothers to take care of her ; both of them are sup- posed to be kind to her, one perfectly devoted. I'm sorry, but I can't screw out much sym- pathy for her. If I could, I should be more MR. GOOD ALL HAS HIS WAY. 199 sorry that both you and I will have to let her alone." '' Why ? " said Theo, taking her hand away from her eyes, and looking at Helen with an earnestness which was a little difficult to meet. '* Why, my dear," said Helen, and coming quickly across to the sofa where her cousin was sitting, she put her arm round her and kissed her in her old soft coaxing way ; " why," she said, '' I know John better than you do, Theo, and when he wishes a thing seriously, I know he has some good reason for it. He is not hard or unkind, but he is very sensible. He does not wish me to know these people, and so, Theo, don't you understand, you can hardly see much of them while you are staying with me. Of course he knows that to-day was an accident, and, anyhow, you perhaps didn't clearly see 200 GERALD. how decided he is about it. I really am very sorry, if you have taken a fancy to them," she said affectionately, looking up into her friend's face. Theo had coloured a little, and there was a line in her forehead, but she could not be really angry with Helen, however stupid and un- reasonable she might think Mr. Goodall. Helen had found the right means of getting her own way. Theo bent and kissed her soft cheek. *' All right, Nell. I won't walk that way again,'' she said. *'And now let us drop the subject, please." It seemed like an easy victory, and Helen was satisfied. She wished for nothing better than to drop the subject. Theo might go on thinking about these people ; most likely she would, in her own foolish romantic way ; but as long as she did not talk about them, and did MR, GOODALL HAS HIS WAY, 201 not attempt to carry her Quixotic fancies into action, her thoughts did not matter much. Helen had every reason to be satisfied. For a few days after this adventure, Theo was, perhaps, a Httle more dreamy than usual, a little indifferent about going out, and seeing more of the neighbourhood; but one day she seemed to wake to a consciousness of her shortcomings, and a change came over her which gratified Mr. Goodall. She asked him to take her over his works, and spent a whole afternoon there with him in the hot sheds and workrooms, among the wheels, and the clay-heaps, and the smoking furnaces. She talked to the potters at their work, to the red- grimed boys who were fetching and carrying, to the rough girls who sat painting. The work was all rather rough, for Mr. Goodall's clay was not of a sort to make china, and the people naturally were rough too. Those girls stared 202 GERALD. at Theo, and looked at each other, and glanced aside at the master, whose few words to them had always been entirely business-like. Some of them were inclined to laugh at the strange experience, but they looked at Theo again, and softened and grew grave in spite of themselves. Mrs. Goodall had walked through the rooms once since she came, but without much interest, and with very great dislike of the dirt, the noise, the heat, and the staring of the work- people. Her light dress was more suited for a tennis-party ; her lip curled with disgust at the whole thing, and she spoke to nobody but her husband. Yet they liked seeing her ; she was a pretty thing to look at, and their staring was all admiration. One or two pretty girls tried their best, on following Sundays and holidays, to copy her dress and air. She was quite their idea of what a lady MR. GOO BALL HAS HIS WAY, 203 ought to be ; far more within their compre- hension than this friend of hers, whose beauty was of a kind they did not understand, and who stopped and looked them in the face with rather sad eyes, and asked questions which confused them, and took their work in her slight hands, asking how it was done. When she and Mr. Goodall had passed on there were great arguments in the work shops. '' But she don't look like t'other one, and my word, if I was a lady, wouldn't I wear a smarter frock nor that ! " was the opinion of the prettiest girl in the works, who had been trying, with great success, her admirers thought, to copy Mrs. Goodall. '' Ah, that's all you look at, you young 'uns. Now I say she's right down nice," said an older woman, to whom Thco had talked for several minutes. 204 GERALD. ''Don't you like having all those people?" said Theo to Mr. Goodall as he walked back with her up the hill. *' I must have them, till I can get all the work done by machinery," said John. '' No, I don't like them. Those girls especially are a rough lot." '' I thought some of them had such good faces," she said. '' Machinery ! That would be very uninteresting ; and, besides, how would they all live 1 " " That is an unpractical argument, you know, against machinery." '' I should like to have great works," said Theo after a minute, ''and no machines at all. I should employ hundreds of people.' " I hope you would sell your goods." " I should not care about that," said Theo. John smiled patiently and stroked his MR. GOOD ALL HAS HIS WAY. 205 face. It was hard on a sensible man to have such a babyish companion. '' But I should sell them," she proceeded, " because they would be much better than other people's." " Then you are going to create some new workpeople," said John. '' Of course they would want training," said Theo. "These things can't be done in a day. Ah, you are laughing at me! But if I could try something of the kind, you would see." " I hope not, for I don't care to see failures," said John. " No ; in every age the right plan is to use the materials that the age gives you ; make the best of them, take care of them, but don't expect more than they can do. I dare say we fall rather short in the way of philanthropy. I think myself it is as well to leave them a good deal of indepen- 2o6 GERALD. dence. The vicar likes to do all he can, and he has started a club, and classes, and so forth. Of course I support him. A friend of mine, who has some large works a dozen miles from here, has made model arrange- ments for his workmen. I wonder if you would care to see them ? " " Very much indeed," said Theo. '' We will drive over when I have a free day — or would it be too long a ride for you ? " '' No, certainly not. Aster and I would enjoy it of all things — only, there's Helen." ** It would not interest her," said Mr. Goodall. Theo had not at all expected to find her- self riding about the country with him. The September days were pleasant and cool, and that ride to the model village proved to be only the first of many. John did not profess to care much for MR. GOOD ALL HAS HIS WAY. 207 riding ; he was growing rather heavy, and walking suited him better ; but he had a good strong horse, and riding with Theo was much more amusing than riding alone. Her fights with Aster, in which she always came off conqueror, though he had a strong will of his own, her grace and perfect riding, her thorough girlish delight in a gallop over the turf, the brightness that came to her spirits as the soft wind blew in her face and brought colour to it, her preposterous arguments, the smile with which she took John's good solid contradic- tions, the disappearance of her dreaminess in this rapid movement and fresh air — all these things filled the worthy fellow with satisfaction. Every day he grew more fond of Theo. And Helen, who used to watch them away from the door and go back peacefully to her sofa and her novel, knew that they would come in presently much more cheerful than 2o8 . GERALD. they went, and would have a great deal to tell her — Theo, at least — of adventures on the way and the wonderful behaviour of the horses. On other days Helen and Theo took long drives together, for the neighbourhood, like most of its kind, was both prettier and more sociable than they thought at first. There were people scattered here and there, and a cathedral town within fifteen miles ; there were garden-parties, to which Mr. Goodall was generally too busy to go, so that the two cousins appeared at them together. Here they met a variety of people, who were all friendly, though most of them lived a long way off; but neither Helen nor Theo cared much for any of them, and they generally came back yawning from these festivities. " I should like to be quite uncivilised, and to ride for miles and miles over a great plain," MR. GOODALL HAS HIS WAY. 209 said Theo one evening, when John had been reproaching them for their unsociableness. '' And I should Hke to be left in peace," said Helen. At the same time John noticed, when he went with them to any of these parties, that his wife and her cousin appeared perfectly- happy, and were more agreeable, and had more to talk about than any of the other people there. Under these circumstances it seemed wrong-headed of them to complain afterwards of being bored to extinction. He said so to Helen, but she only laughed, and told him he did not understand. They did not meet the Fanes anywhere; perhaps it was not likely that they should ; yet Theo's eyes always wandered a little cu- riously round the rooms and lawns, and a sad scornful sort of look came into her face when she saw they were not there. She often VOL. I. p 2IO GERALD. thought of the child Ada, with the pleading blue eyes that had touched her. It seemed hardly possible that she was not to see her or her brother again. It was a little humili- ating to imagine what he must think of the foolish strange woman who had told him she was fond of his sister, and then had lived on for weeks and weeks within two miles, with- out making the smallest attempt to see her again. What could he think ? Theo puzzled herself about this very often, till she put up her two hands to her cheeks, and found they were burning with vexation. Yet she was not conscious of any wish to go away from Woodcote, and Helen was only too glad to keep her. Hugh wrote that he would be coming back from Scotland before long, and could stop at Woodcote and take her back to London. Of course that was very nice, and she would be very glad to see dear old MR. GOOD ALL HAS HIS WAY. 211 Hugh again. But in the meanwhile, evening after evening, she looked out of her own high window to the sunset, and to a distant line of trees dark against the glow, often more or less obscured by smoke rising from the valley. One evening a little thing happened, not important in itself, as far as Theo knew, though it brought a strange trouble into her mind, and she was never afterwards able to forget it. October had come ; the days were shorten- ing fast, and it was quite twilight when she and Mr. Goodall were returning from one of their long rides. They had come along the high road nearly as far as Deerhurst, when John suggested that by crossing a field or two they would cut off a corner, and come into the Woodcote lane much quicker than by going on to where it joined the road. There was a p 2 212 GERALD, broad path across the field, and a rough stile used by the miners, many of whom made a short cut this way to the colliery. It was not, however, the direct pathway to the colliery from Deerhurst. At this time in the evening no one was to be seen there ; the marshy meadows, the waste banks beyond, stretched out bare and dismal under a dim cloudy sky. The gate was not easy to unfasten, and Mr. Goodall was fumbling with it when a tall figure appeared suddenly out of the shadow of the hedge, having come up the road from Deerhurst, and a voice said : '* Let me do that for you." "■ Much obliged ; it is some dodge that I can't make out," said John. ''Is It you. Fane ? How are you ? Getting on all right, I hope." '' All right, thank you," was the answer. MR. GOO BALL HAS HIS WAY. 213 Mr. Fane's voice did not sound very cheer- ful, but he was stooping down at the gate. In a moment he had opened it for them to pass through. Theo was quite close to him ; he took off his hat, but hardly looked up. She stooped a Httle from her saddle and asked him how his sister was. ** She is very well, thank you," answered Gerald. " Will you remember me to her ? " said Theo, and she stooped a little more, and held out her hand to him ; she must have done it, if twenty Goodalls had been looking on. He looked up then, and took her hand, and held it perhaps for a second or two longer than he ought. His own was as hot as fire, and trembled : but Theo only afterwards remembered the fate of her hand. At the moment she could see and feel nothing but 2J4 GERALD. the. look that was fastened upon her ; and she knew, too, that his face was very white and thin in the twihght — that he looked like a man with some terrible trouble upon him. She made a sort of half exclamation ; it was hardly possible not to ask him what was the matter ; yet he had just now told Mr. Goodall that all was right with him. At any rate she had no time, for all had passed like lightning ; they had left him behind, with a cheerful ''good-night" from John to comfort him, and Aster was cantering across the field. Theo looked back once, but the tall hedges cast a shadow, and the darkness was deepening; she could not see him. CHAPTER XIII. TEMPTATION. At Ada Fane's age, disappointments do not always seem to come naturally. Looking forward from school, the idea of life with her brother had been most amusing and delightful ; this boy-and-girl housekeeping was a sort of fun that does not fall to the lot of everybody, and Ada thought herself much more lucky than her schoolfellows with their dull old settled homes waiting for them. That first evening with Gerald in the pretty old house and garden had been very happy, In spite of Mr. Warren's presence there ; he was horrid, of course, but 2i6 GERALD. Gerald thought so too, and he would soon go away. The next day he seemed so much more horrid, that Ada knew she could not be really happy till he did go away ; she was, in fact, rather miserable till the afternoon, and those few minutes in the lane with Miss Meynell. She saw that Theo liked her, and listened kindly to the discontents she could not help pouring out, as they walked those few yards together. Gerald, too, when he came back from Woodcote, told her that Miss Meynell had said kind things about her, and though he could not, or would not, repeat the things, Ada felt a sort of happy triumph. Nothing seemed to matter so much, if she had a friend so near, and her heart was filled with enthu- siastic affection for Theo. A doubt of Theo's sincerity would have been sacrilege, and the TEMPTATION. 217 child felt perfectly sure that they would meet again in a few days. In the meanwhile she filled the drawing-room with flowers, and watched and listened every afternoon for visitors, and hid herself as well as she could from Mr. Warren, who had an odious habit of following her about, paying her compli- ments, and trying to make her talk to him, especially when her brothers were not in the room. Day after day passed, and no one came. Ada cried once or twice from disappointment, and then scolded herself, and remembered that it would be much better for Miss Meynell not to come till Clarence and Mr. Warren were gone away ; but the time seemed very long and weary. At last the day came for them to go, and she hid herself at the last moment, and so escaped saying good-bye to Mr. Warren, a 2i8 GERALD. piece of rudeness for which Gerald was inclined to scold her afterwards. '' Clarence was angry," he said. '' He would have hunted you up, only there wasn't time. You should not behave like a baby, you know, Ada." '' I don't care," said Ada cheerfully. '' I hope I shall never see that detestable man ao-ain. And if Clarence can't come here with- out him, I don't care how long he stays away." ''What a vixen you are!" said Gerald. '' What harm has the fellow done you ? " " Didn't you say yourself you would like to kick him downstairs ? " " Did I ? Well, have you no better reason for hating him than that ? " ''He told me one day that I was pretty, or something still more nonsensical," said Ada, colouring, and walking away to the end of the room. TEMPTATION. 219 " Did that make you angry ? Never mind. I don't think you are prettier than most girls." " Oh, Gerald, how silly you are ! " she said, laughing. ''He is a nasty impertinent man, and you need not tease me, for I know you think so too. Well, he is gone, and now we may be happy. And first of all I have thought of several improvements in this room. I think Miss Meynell will come — don't you ? — now that they are gone." " She may, but I don't advise you to be too hopeful," said Gerald. " What a stupid old log you are ! " said Ada, and then she skated along the polished floor, seized her brother, and shook him by the shoulders, as he sat tired and discontented in his chair. '' You are a lump of indifference," she said, pulling his hair. '' I hate you, and I 2 20 GERALD. love Miss Meynell. You won't care if we never see her again, but I mean to go and walk up and down Woodcote till she comes out of Mrs. Goodalls gate." "You will do nothing of the kind. Get away, and don't bother," said Gerald crossly. Ada was offended, and walked off to the other side of the room, where she stood with her back to him, pulling at a fern. After a few minutes of silence, Gerald said in a reasonable voice, looking out of the window : " I believe Miss Meynell meant to come and see you. She may be prevented, or she may have changed her mind, but, I tell you, I don't think she is coming now. And as for you and me, our present level is quite low enough ; we need not go lower still by pushing and running after people who don't want us." After this speech he waited a little, sitting TEMPTATION, 221 Still In his chair. But Ada did not look round or answer him, as he expected ; and he did not attempt to make friends with her then, but presently got up and went out, leaving her alone. The little cloud had passed off when he came in again. He was more cheerful, and his sister, naturally sweet-tempered, could not long be angry with any one she loved and admired so much. She comforted herself, poor child! by loving and admiring him, though sometimes the disappointment about Theo was almost too much for her, and she cried a little at night over that lost vision. At seventeen one believes and loves so heartily, and wants and losses seem almost impossible to bear. Finding that talk about Theo always made Gerald cross and dismal, she let the painful subject alone, and for many days the name 222 GERALD. that was in both their minds was not men- tioned between them. So the autumn weeks passed slowly away, Ada amused herself as well as she could while her brother was out, and always welcomed him joyfully home ; but her life was very monotonous. There were no neighbours to interest her in the little village, she was too young and untrained to care for the poor, and the pleasantest after- noons were those in which Gerald found time to drive her about the country, at a great pace, in his rough pony-cart. Once or twice in this tearing round they dashed through Woodcote, and Ada looked about her with great eagerness then ; but probably Theo and Mr. Goodall were riding many miles away They never met them. That evening at the gate was Gerald's first encounter with Theo on her rides, and something else had happened to him before then. TEMPTATION. 223 One evening Clarence Litton arrived un- expectedly. He went first to the colliery, to look after his business matters, and was busy for some time at the Iron safe in the office, where he finally left some valuable papers, chiefly railway bonds and certificates, belonging to himself and Mr. Warren. When he had done, and he and Gerald were walking home together, he talked to the young manager rather confidentially. He told him that Warren was not well, and thought of going abroad for the winter. Gerald was a little puzzled by his manner, but they reached their own gate, and Clarence said : ''We'll talk business after dinner." He was very pleasant at dinner, and kind to Ada, telling stories to make her laugh. She began to wish that Clarence would come down very often, if only he would leave Mr. Warren behind. 224 GERALD. Gerald was rather silent ; he could not throw off his anxieties as Clarence did, though his brother's burden was no doubt the heaviest. He suspected that something was wrong, and could not rest till Clarence was sitting with his pipe over the study- fire, ready to answer questions and talk seriously. He stood on the rug close by, with eager eyes looking down at Clarence ; the inscrutable old face, as he called it in his mind, was harder to read than ever. It was yellow and coarse-grained, weather- beaten and lined all over with care ; the eyes were languid, keen, and expressionless ; if the mouth had a smile or touch of good- ness, it was hidden by the long thick moustache. Yet Clarence's was not a bad face ; the hard, worn features had some suggestion of past refinement ; the man had been a gentleman in mind as well as by TEMPTATION. 225 birth, and had had some kindness in him. Twenty years ago he might have been a generous, attractive fellow, and good men might have called him friend ; indeed, con- sidering his associates, and the life he had led, he might easily have shown more out- ward degradation now. ** What is all this about going abroad ? " said Gerald, as his brother did not seem inclined to speak. "Is anything wrong?" ** No ; he says he wants a holiday," said Clarence. "• I don't believe he will go till after Christmas, however. He thinks we couldn't get on without him. I think we could." "Have you disagreed about anything?" said Gerald, when his brother had smoked in silence for a minute or two. ** Would you be surprised If we had ? '* *' Not In the least. The wonder is that VOL. I. Q 2 26^ GERALD. it has not happened before. I say, Clarence, I am awfully glad to hear it," said Gerald, his face brightening. " Life might be worth living, if Warren was out of it." ** On the contrary," said Clarence, "if Warren was out of it, you and I would be breaking stones. Fortunately I am not quite so romantic and prejudiced as you. If he and I were to dissolve partnership now, I should come off badly, for he is not the sort of fellow you can take any advantage of, you know. That's not the way to make my fortune out of him, which I mean to do ; you understand ? " '* I don't see how you are to do that," said Gerald, once more depressed. *' No," said Clarence, "and I won't try: to explain. But there's you to think of as well as myself, and as I have done pretty well for you so far, I suppose you will le^ve TEMPTATION. 227 yourself in my hands to the end of the chapter." "What do you mean ? Have you got any new work for me ? If it is anything inde- pendent of Warren, I am in your hands ten times over.'' ** Don't be an ass ! " said Clarence lazily. '* If I am not independent of him, how can you be ? I have a serious word to say to you, my boy. If you could bring down your pride so far as to be civil to Warren, you would be in a much better position at this moment. In fact, even now, if you will be quiet and behave reasonably, I have some hopes that he will take you into partnership." "Why, I have not a penny in the world," said Gerald, looking amused, but not particu- larly pleased. " Warren is not likely to be so weak as that. Besides, he hates me as much as I hate him." Q 2 228 GERALD. '' He Is not fond of you, that is true," said Clarence, ''but he values me. I am of great use to him, and he would sacrifice a good many likes and dislikes rather than quarrel with me. Besides, a lucky hit the other day brought me in a few thousands, which he wants me to invest in these works. Now, if he will consent to have you, the money shall be invested in your name — that will be all right between you and me. If he won't, I think I can do better with it some- where else. You see there is a chance for you, and a good one — the best, in fact, that you have ever had in your life. When Warren was your age he was nearly as poor as you." ''Thank you," said Gerald. "Let me think about it." He sat down opposite his brother, staring into the fire. For about five minutes neither TEMPTATION. 229 of them spoke, but every now and then Clarence stole a glance under his sleepy eyelids at Gerald's grave face. Who would have thought that this ungracious young fellow was having his fortune made! Clarence never expected much from human nature, but he was a little disappointed ; If Gerald had seemed to care more for his new prospects, future arrangements would have been easier, he thought. But he waited quietly, while Gerald turned the thing over in his mind. '' I wish you and I had never been mixed up with a fellow like Warren," said the young man at last. *' I almost think I would rather break stones than have fifty thousand a year with Warren for a partner." " As you please," said Clarence coolly. " Your fifty thousand a year is not likely to come in any other way, as far as I can see. And I think if you had it you would sing to 230 GERALD, a different tune. However, after all, what do you know against Warren ? " "Not so much as you do probably," said Gerald. Clarence almost laughed. '' Well, half of your dislike is prejudice," he said. *' He's rough, I grant you, and his manners are not good, nor is his temper. But he has some points that are not so bad. He is a capital man of business, and not ill-natured, and generous in his way. He was a very useful friend to me some years ago, when without his help I should have gone to the dogs altogether. We have done a good deal for each other, sooner or later, and neither of us could very well afford to quarrel with the other ; still you understand that I owe Warren more than he owes me. It is no use fighting against facts. I am to a great extent in Warren's power, and I won't say it is always TEMPTA TION. 23 1 a pleasant state of things. But I am making money, and this seems a chance for you to make money too, if you will put your preju- dices and your high notions out of the way." '' I should never be in Warren's power ? " said Gerald quickly. ** No ; that is my privilege," said Clarence, *' It is a good offer, and you had better take it," he went on after a minute. *' Of course, I am very much obliged to you," said his brother. *' Don't be too grateful. I hope you will be a rich man one of these days — but I want you to do something for me in return." ''What sort of thing ?" ** Well, to stand by me in one of my difficulties." '' Of course " *' Don't be in a hurry," said Clarence. 232 GERALD, He became suddenly very uneasy, and Gerald looked at him in surprise. An odd, anxious, half-ashamed look came into his face ; he got up, laid down his pipe, and stooped over the fire, poking it vigorously ; then he began to walk about the room. On the wall opposite the fire hung a very pretty portrait of Ada as a little child, which Mrs. Fane had given to her eldest son in his younger and better days. She was in bad health even then, and she had always felt that she could leave her boy and girl quite happily in Clarence's care. Clarence glanced up at the portrait that evening, and walked away again. The smiling eyes, bright colour, and golden locks were like Ada still. **You know," he said, '* that picture of Ada — I used always to have it in my rooms in town." TEMPTATION. 233 ** Yes," said Gerald. *' Do you want it back again ? " '' No. Pity I ever had it there at all ! " '* Why ? What do you mean ? What are you talking about ? " '' I tell you," said Clarence, '' if it had not been for Warren, I should have gone to the dogs more than once. One day in London, years ago, when I was specially obliged to him about something — and I think he was much less of a brute then than he is now — I asked him how I was to repay him. He looked up at that picture and said, ' By the time that child is seven- teen I shall be rich enough to marry. You shall let me marry her.' Well — perhaps neither of us was half in earnest — at any rate I couldn't afford to refuse, and I gave him a written promise that as far as I was concerned I would further the marriage." 234 GERALD, He said all this in a low hurried voice, walking up and down. Gerald stared at him incredulously. It was almost impossible to believe in such a bargain, and words to express his feeling about it would not come at once to the surface. ** He sticks to it, I am sorry to say," Clarence went on after a pause, '* and since he saw her this time he has talked of nothing else. She will be seventeen this winter, won't she ? I tell him that, of course, it must depend on her consent, but the state of the case is this : we shall be ruined if she refuses. If Warren sets his mind on any- thing, there is no turning him off. He has waited for her, and worked for her — he means it ; and you and I must persuade her to like him better than she does now. Do you understand ? " He spoke impatiently now, and looked TEMPTATION. 235 Gerald straight in the face. To him evidently the worst was over, now that his brother knew it. Gerald turned very pale as he an- swered him. " No, I don't understand — at least, I won't." '' Then you had better use your brains, and make haste about it," said Clarence. '' Her refusal means a split with Warren, and I don't mean that to happen. I can't afford it. I have to keep my promise, and Ada shall marry Warren when she is seventeen." His manner became every moment more angry and defiant ; all shame, all regret seemed to leave him, as he watched disQfust and horror strengthening in his brother's face. He had quite lost his usual coolness, and with it all chance, if such a thing ever existed, of having his own way with Gerald. '' You have lived so much with Warren," said the young man quietly, though his eyes 236 GERALD, flamed with anger, '' that you are becoming rather too much Hke him. Do you mean to say that you can look at Ada — can think of our sister, and imagine such a thing for a single Instant possible ? You are mad ! you are possessed — I don't know what to say to you." " Don't blaze away at me, you young fool!" said Clarence between his teeth. *' Why, what an idiot you are! Don't you see how much depends upon it '^. " *' I see that you are far worse than I ever thought you," said Gerald. '' Worse than Warren — for one can't expect him to see the impossibility. You want to sacrifice that child for the sake of money ! You thought I should help you, stand by you, for the sake of a partnership ? What have I ever done or said that you should think me such a scoundrel ? Why, my mother would come back, if she TEMPTATION. 237 could, to take Ada. She had better die. I would rather see her dead than But you will not dare even to hint such a thing to her." The deep pain and resolution In the young fellow's voice, the anger and amazement in his face — above all, the allusion to his mother, impressed Clarence a little, vexed and pro- voked as he was. His moral skin was natu- rally much thicker than Gerald's, and had been well tanned by all sorts of experience. The idea of Warren's marrying his sister had been familiar to him for years — always a disagreeable idea, no doubt. As he laid it before Gerald, it certainly seemed more than disagreeable. Still, as he said, Warren was not altogether a bad fellow, and it would be a ridiculous thing indeed if the obstinacy of a boy and girl were to break up all his plans for the future. Many girls had married for money, and many girls had married worse 238 GERALD. men than Warren, Clarence knew. He was angry with Gerald for his opposition, which, after all, he had expected ; but though he saw it was not to be trifled with, he thought that a little quiet management would set things right in time. Both were silent for a minute or two ; Clarence still pacing about the room, Gerald standing before the fire. After a short struggle for self-conquest, the elder brother said very quietly : "• I have done everything in my power for you, and this is my reward — to be abused like a pickpocket." ''If it was anything that concerned myself " said Gerald. *' However, look here — we may as well understand each other. Of course I shall never consent to this. I will not have it, if you are ruined ten times over. I am Ada's proper guardian — nearer to her TEMPTATION. 239 than you are, remember. I will not have the subject mentioned to her. I decline this partnership, and I shall resign my present post. If Ada and I have been dependent on you till now, we never will be again." *' And pray how are you going to support yourself and Ada ? " asked Clarence. . " By breaking stones," said Gerald. Clarence laughed. His young brother looked at him for a moment ; that laugh brought them to the edge of something worse than an ordinary quarrel. It was no use talking any more ; and Clarence, who would have found an open breach with Gerald only less disagreeable and incon- venient than with Warren, was glad that after an instant's hesitation Gerald went out of the room. Mr. Litton went away early the next morning, without having alluded to the 240 GERALD. subject again. Gerald went to his work as usual, but came back In the middle of the day so very gloomy and silent, that Ada guessed there was something wrong. She did not Imagine a quarrel with Clarence, for she had not seen them together since yesterday at dinner, when Clarence seemed so pleasant and kind. After luncheon Gerald shut himself up in the study, and remained there for two or three hours. At last Ada, tired of being alone when he was In the house, gently opened the door and went in. Gerald had perhaps been reading the newspaper ; at any rate, it was spread out on the table, and he was sitting there, his arms and his head laid down upon it. He started up when Ada came in, and pushed away his chair, and stood by the fire. "What do you want, child?" he said TEMPTATION. 241 kindly, but he was looking so ill and pale that Ada was frightened. *' Nothing, Gerald — only you," she said. '' Nothing — only me," he repeated. " I wish I was nothing." There was a hopeless despairing look in his eyes, and Ada thought his manner very strange. He put his arm round her as she came close to him, and kissed her curly head ; his ways were not often so affectionate. " Dear old boy ! " said Ada, laughing ; '* what should I do if you were ? " " Wouldn't it be jolly," he said, his eyes wandering out of the window, where the wych-elms were waving their arms, and shaking down dead leaves on the grass, " if you and I could go off to California, or the diamond-fields, or somewhere ? We might change our names, and nobody in England would ever hear of us again." VOL. I. R 242 GERALD. " Till we came back with an immense fortune," said Ada. '' Oh yes, Gerald, what fun ! When shall we go ? " ''We should never come back," said Gerald; "but, after all, you wouldn't mind that. You have no friends here, nor have I. If I had any money to start with, we might go to-morrow." " Clarence would be surprised, wouldn't he .? " said Ada. A shade came over Gerald's face. " I mean it seriously," he said. " I have been thinking it over for the last two hours. Now you can do the same, for I must go down to the works. In two hours I will come back, and tell you whether we can go." " But the money — where is that coming from ? " said Ada. " Don't ask questions," said her brother. TEMPTATION. 243 He pushed her aside a little roughly, and took up his hat. She watched him from the long low window as he walked away very fast up the drive. It was beginning to be dusk. Ada went back slowly upstairs, very much puzzled ; it was impossible to sit down and think seriously of such wild plans as he had sug- gested. Two hours seemed a long time. It was not nearly at an end, however, wjien she heard him open the house door and go into the study. She flew downstairs to welcome him, and found him sitting in the dark, silent, moody, and quite forgetful of all his fine ideas. '' Well, are we going .-^ " she said rather timidly. *' No, we are not," Gerald answered very shortly. *' Light those candles, will you, and leave me alone. I can't be always chattering," Poor Ada obeyed these orders silently. R 2 CHAPTER XIV. A WILFUL WOMAN. Theo Meynell's visit to the Midlands was drawing near its end, for Hugh North had written from Scotland to say that he was going back to London one day in the next week, and would be glad to take her back with him if Helen and John would let him stay one night at their house. Perhaps he would hardly have proposed this, for he thought she was much better with Helen than with Lady Redcliff, but a rather restless letter from Theo — perhaps her grandmother had not been so far wrong in describing her character — had told him that she meant to A WILFUL WOMAN. 245 go back soon, and had had the effect of making him — the calm, cool, deliberate Hugh North — a little restless too. It was bad to be amusing one's self in Scotland, it would be worse to be on duty close to London, when Theo was in Staffordshire. Hugh thought a great deal as he tramped over the moors, and in a new, uneasy, inexplicable sort of way, began to know that he loved his cousin. Lady Redcliff was right. Theo was be- ginning to be tired of life at Woodcote. Helen was not an inspiring companion ; still less so, married to the excellent John, who could not help being sometimes tiresome. Theo could not have any intercourse with the only people who interested her at all ; she was often rather weary, rather bored, in spite of Aster and Wool ; and as she read the postscript to one of her grandmothers 246 GERALD. cross letters, something in her nature seemed to go out to meet the impatient old woman. Her sins might be many, but heaviness was not among them, and after her fashion she loved Theo. " When are you coming home ? " she said in that postscript. " I sometimes think I should like to hear a human voice again. Those I do hear are the voices of animals, and I suspect your present experience is not very different." " I have brought you some gossip," said Mr. Goodall one evening, two days before Captain North was to arrive. He went on to tell them how at IMainley Station that afternoon he had seen his friend Morland, the proprietor of the model village to which Theo rode with him one day. And Morland had been making one or two journeys on business lately, and in one of X A WILFUL WOMAN. 247 these he had travelled in the same carriage with " that fellow Warren," who was talking a great deal in a very loud voice to another man he knew. Morland thought he was not quite sober, but John Goodall charitably hoped it was only his awful vulgarity. *' He was telling this other fellow all about himself and his affairs, and among other things he said he was going abroad to see the world, and coming back in the spring to be married." " I hope he is not going to live near us,*** said Helen. *' I hope not," said John. '' But, Theo, you will be rather shocked to hear who he is going to marry." "It can't be any one I know," said Theo with conviction. "Well, I suppose I may say you know her. Anyhow, you took some interest in her. / 248 GERALD. That pretty girl — that child — Gerald Fane's sister." ^' Dear me ! " said Helen languidly. "After all, Theo dear, the Fanes can't be nice, or they wouldn't do that, would they?" Theo did not speak for a minute or two. She was extremely shocked, and very grave. She gazed absently at John, who was turning over a book, and then dropped her eyes on the floor. Having collected her thoughts, she said quietly : '' I don't believe it." " Now, Theo, you really are unreasonable," said Helen. " Did not I tell you," said Theo, '' how much that girl disliked that man ? " John Goodall shook his head over his book and smiled provokingly. '' Money," he said ; "or, rather, the want A WILFUL WOMAN. 249 of it. There you have the explanation of most things, and no doubt of this." ''But how could Mr. Fane consent?" ex- claimed Theo. '' Oh, it is too horrid ! How can you laugh, Nell ? It is the most dreadful thing I ever heard in my life. I don't believe he knows anything about it. I believe it is a plot between those two men." " Well, I'm afraid he does know," said John, looking up. " He has looked very bad when I have seen him lately — ill and pale, and more discontented than ever. Do you re- member how dismal he looked when he opened the gate for us the other evening ? " "Yes — yes, he did," said Theo, half to herself •' And I met him here in the village this morning, when I first went out. He was mooning along under my wall there, looking regularly white and wretched, as if he had 250 GERALD. been up all night. I thought, then, poor chap ! he looked as if something had happened to him. If this engagement is a fact, and if he is letting it go on, I quite agree with you that he doesn't like it. He's not a bad fellow, poor Fane ! I nearly asked him in to breakfast." After the first words of this sentence Theo had heard no more. But as soon as John paused, she said quickly and earnestly : *' Please listen, both of you. I have not been kind to that girl, because you did not wish it. But now Hugh is coming the day after to-morrow, and then I am going away ; so you won't mind, Helen — you can't — if I go and see her that last afternoon. I have made up my mind, please. I must know if this horrid story is true." *' That could be found out by other means ; couldn't it, John?" said Helen. "And if it is a plot between those men, as you said just A WILFUL WOMAN. 251 now, Theo, perhaps the girl herself has not been let into it yet. And if you attack her on the subject, you may make a grand general combustion. There may be no end to the muddle ; and is it exactly your business, Theo, do you think ? " '' Am I my sister's keeper ? " said Theo dreamily. ''Yes, Nell, it seems to me that I am." She got up and walked across to the door ; there she turned round for a moment, smiling. '' I won't make a muddle," she said. *' I won't ask her ; but if she knows she will tell me." " And what will you do then ?" said John solemnly. *' Oh, something ! " said Theo as she shut the door. " My dear," he said to his wife when she was gone, '' I like Theo very much, and I shall 252 GERALD, be sorry when she goes away, but for her own sake It Is a good thing she's going. Her violent Interest In these Fanes makes me nervous. Did you hear her — ' Am I my sister's keeper?' It made me glad I hadn't asked the fellow In this morning, as I really felt half Inclined to do." "She meant nothing by that," said Helen. " You don't quite understand her yet, my dear John. It Is all pure benevolence." "■ Anyhow, it Is a dangerous game, with mad, demoralised people like those," said Mr. Goodall. Perhaps Helen herself did not quite understand Theo, who felt a strange happy excitement when the appointed time came, and she was walking across the fields to Deerhurst with Wool for her only com- panion. It was not a very fine day ; there were A WILFUL WOMAN. 253 wild clouds about, and the wind was moaning and threatening to rise to a gale, but the sun came out now and then and cheered the dull autumnal landscape. But this rest- less weather suited Theo better than quiet sunshine ; there was mystery, uncertainty, in the strange shapes of the flying clouds, in the shadows that went sweeping across the country when the sun showed his face for a minute or two. Theo's own life was not unlike one of those clouds ; she, too, was blown by winds, and did not know where she was going. And none of her own people could have understood — not Helen, or John, or Hugh North — what a wild secret pleasure there was in it. After she had passed the railway the path was strange, but she could not lose her way, with the line of green firs on that 254 GERALD, ridge between her and the sky. Coming to the high-road, she walked for a few yards beside a little noisy brook, shaded by oak-trees turning brown, and then, just at the entrance to Deerhurst village, which skirted the sloping road in an irregular patch of cottages here and there, she turned into a path that led her up two grass-fields that grew gradually steeper, along by hedges bright with red and golden maple, till at the top she came into another lane close under those fir-trees to which her eyes had been directed all the way. Now she could see the other side of the country — the pleasant valley beyond Deerhurst, unstained by smoke, and scattered with trees. Down in the meadows far below her — for the ground fell steeply away here — the river gleamed as it went slowly winding on its way. A WILFUL WOMAN. 255 A rough hedge and fence divided Theo from the fir-trees, which grew along a bank at the top of a steep field. They were much blown and strained by the wind, and even now were singing like the sea ; but they made a pleasant shelter, and she walked along under them, going a little down-hill, till she came to gates and haystacks, with Lombardy poplars leaning over them, and the rough old white gables and outbuildings of a house, set snugly in a little hollow of the ridge. It was partly covered with ivy and creepers, and much sheltered by trees — wych-elms nearly bared by the windy weather beeches still a blaze of gold. Theo stood still and looked at the quaint little homestead with a strange feeling of familiarity. She knew that this must be Deerhurst Lodge, for John had pointed out its roofs and trees, and she had discovered, 2S6 GERALD. without telling John, that she could see its chimneys from her window at Woodcote. He said it had been a manor-house once, and a much larger place than it was now. It lay on the edge of a great old chase, which had given it its sylvan name, and relics of those days, such as stags' horns, had been dug up not long ago In the peat- beds by the river. Theo listened, and vaguely thought she liked to hear all this ; but she found it much more interesting now. The sun was shining as she turned in at the gate, and walked down to the door with Wool marching solemnly behind her. A sudden smile seemed to light up the world ; the wind was lulled, the garden was full of soft shadows and gleams ; and the same change took place in Gerald, who came out of the door just as Miss Meynell approached it. A WILFUL WOMAN. 257 '' Is it you ? " said Gerald with sudden joy, and for a moment Theo could not help looking as happy as he did. She gave him her hand, smiling and blushing a little, and began to speak rather quickly, asking him. if he thought she had quite forgotten his sister. *' Is she at home ? May I go in and see her ? " " She will be too happy," said Gerald. ** I told her I did not think you would be able to come." " I was not sure about It," said Theo. ** But I am going back to London to-morrow, and " She suddenly remembered the reason that had brought her there, and then was ready to drive that horrid story at once out of her mind. How could one look at him and believe that he would let such a thing happen to his little sister ? VOL. I. s 258 GERALD. But the experiment of looking at him did not answer ; it plunged them both into a depth of shyness, a new feeling into Theo's proud independent nature. " Come in, please," said Gerald gravely, holding the door open, Theo went in, and he took her up the low oak staircase to the drawing-room, where Ada, who had heard their voices, was waiting in a state of joyful unbelief. She looked so happy, so affectionate, as she came forward to meet her, that Theo could not help kissing her. It Is not quite certain that she knew what she was doing ; a quick Impulse carried her away, but If it had been necessary to win the heart of that lonely child, Theo's kiss would have done It for ever. None of the three, except perhaps Ada, could have told afterwards how they spent that afternoon. If Theo thought at all, she A WILFUL WOMAN. 259 thought that her only visit might be a long one ; if Gerald had business that ought to have taken him away, he seemed to have forgotten it. The sun went on shining, and they took her out to see the garden, wandering down by ivy walls, past the orchard. Into the lower garden, with Its shady corners, and the great yellow walnut-tree hanging over the slope. A few roses lingered on the bushes down there, and when Theo came up from the garden, she was carrying a red one in her hand. The sun went in, the clouds came crowding over darkly, the wind whistled, and it began to rain ; but they were now in the house again, and Theo did not appear to notice the weather. Gerald did, however, and he went off to see that his pony would be ready to take her home when she chose to go. Men are selfish, and he certainly felt satisfaction in the thought s 2 26o GERALD. that his cart only held two ; but his selfishness was not bad enough to deserve Its speedy punishment. When the two girls were left alone, Ada moved to the low window-seat close beside Theo, and looked up Into her friend's eyes. *' How good It was of you to come ! " she said softly. Theo looked at her gravely. That story, that horrid nightmare, which she had forgotten for the last hour, had come back to her again. She felt that It was impossible to say anything about it, for Ada plainly knew nothing ; yet she was going away, and could not bear the thought of leaving the child to her fate. Could her brother be trusted to take care of her ? She thought so ; and yet, suppose anything was to take him away ! Theo took out a letter and a pencil, and scribbled her London address on the envelope. A WILFUL WOMAN. 261 " May I give you this ? " she said to Ada, ** and I want you to promise me something, please." "That I will," said Ada. "Oh, is it your direction 1 " " Yes. Forgive me, dear, but you have not many friends, have you ? Women friends, at least." "You know," said Ada, smiling, while tears rushed into her eyes, " I have nobody in the world but Gerald, and Clarence, and you." " Thank you," said Theo. " Then I shall always feel that you belong to me a little ; " and she kissed the girl's soft face again. **You must promise me this — if you are ever unhappy, or in any trouble — when your brothers are not quite enough for you — if I can ever be of any use to you, you will write and tell me all about it." 262 GERALD. ** I will promise," said Ada, rather solemnly, for Theo frightened her a little when she looked as grave as she did now. The rain now began to dash furiously against the window. Theo looked up and noticed it for the first time. " I must go," she said. *' Wool, we must go ; " and Wool got up, wagging his tail, from the rug, where he was lying stretched at full length in perfect contentment. *' You must have tea with me first," said Ada, '* and then the shower will be over." Pouring out tea for Miss Meynell, and feeding Wool with large pieces of cake, seemed like the realising of one of Ada's first and favourite dreams. It was not perfect, though ; realised dreams never are. Theo was going away to-morrow ; and Gerald, when he came back into the room, looked grave and bothered; A WILFUL WOMAN. 263 something had wakened him to his sordid everyday Hfe again. '' Clarence is come," he said to his sister after a minute. '' Is he .'^ I thought you were talking to some one. I hope he is by himself } " said Ada, looking up anxiously. '' Yes," said Gerald. Theo could not help watching him just then, and his grave looks made her say to herself : '* John was right ; he knows." He caught her glance, and came across the room to her, while Ada went to the open door and called Clarence to come and have some tea. *' It is quite a heavy storm," Gerald said. *' You cannot walk back. I will drive you in my cart, if you don't mind ; it Is a rough concern." 264 GERALD ** Thank you very much ; but Wool and I don't mind the rain." ** It will be getting dusk ; you must let me drive you," Gerald repeated. *' It Is not at all a nice walk in the dark." '* Thank you," said Theo softly. '' I must thank you for coming to-day," said Gerald. ** I'm afraid it was disagreeable to you — but Ada is grateful, and so am I." '' I have wished to come all the time. I'm sorry it is my first and last visit," said Theo, looking on the floor. " She will let me hear of her sometimes, I hope, and," glancing up in sudden forgetfulness, " you will take care of her ? " ** I should do that, even if you did not tell me," he said with a little reproach in his voice. '' Did you think it was necessary to tell me ? " ** No ; please forgive me," she said A WILFUL WOMAN. 265 smiling ; but all her self-possession had left her for the moment, and she knew that she was flushing very much as Ada came back Into the room, followed by her eldest brother. Theo was not facing the light, and she did not think that any one saw the confusion that had overtaken her — not even Gerald — most of all she hoped not Gerald — for she was quite Indifferent as to what his brother might see or Imagine. But she felt a little fright- ened at herself; the red rose she wore brought back to her suddenly all the strange- ness of that quickly-flying afternoon, and the thought of Helen added an almost comic touch of dismay. ** What have I done ? I have been very foolish — still, after all, what have I done ? ' she said to herself. '' I must throw away this rose." Her manner to Mr. Litton was cold and 266 GERAJLD, absent enough. Gerald now retreated to the other side of the room, and watched the rain as it came pelting harder and harder against the window. All outside was blackness and storm. Theo's eyes, too, wandered often to the window, as Clarence, who had just come from London, talked to her about the news of the day. The noise of the wind and rain was loud enough to drown other voices, and it was only Gerald's quick ears that presently heard a rumble of wheels. He guessed at once what it meant ; and he was not surprised, though the others were, when the drawing- room door opened, and Mr. Goodall came in, followed by a fair handsome man. That cousin — Gerald well remembered him — he had taken her away after the wedding, and now he was going to take her away again. John Goodall's manner was quite friendly ; A WILFUL WOMAN, 267 he shook hands with Clarence Litton, and talked to him about the weather, and ex- plained that he had come to fetch Miss Meynell home. Clarence, however, was star- ing at Captain North, and hardly seemed to hear what he was saying. Hugh North did not at first notice him. He had spoken coldly to Gerald, and glanced at Ada with something like curiosity, and then he had gone up to Theo, and they were standing together a little apart from the others. His manner was quite that of one who takes possession ; it was clear enough that for him there was nobody in the room but Theo. His arrival did not seem to make much difference to her. She was very dreamy and absent just then, and after a few moments with Hugh, during which he talked to her, but she did not hear what he said, though she answered him with vague remarks of, " Yes — 268 GERALD. yes ; dreadful, isn't it ? Very good of you and John," she went suddenly forward to where Gerald was standing, looking rather forsaken and miserable. *' I am not going home in your cart after all," she said ; and if she had known how her face and eyes changed as she spoke to him she would have been startled at herself. Gerald brightened suddenly as he looked at her. '' No," he said, " I'm not to be allowed to do anything for you ; but it would be selfish to be sorry. I am selfish, though, and sorry." He spoke in a low voice, and Theo answered him in the same. " Thank you just as much," he said, smiling, and then she turned again to Hugh. But just at that moment something happened which took her cousin's attention away from A WILFUL WOMAN. 269 her and her doings. To John Goodall's great surprise, who had thought it necessary to introduce him to Mr. Litton, Hugh North looked Clarence straight in the face for a moment, and with an expression of contempt quite new to his quiet blue eyes, said : '' I have met Mr. Litton before. Hadn't we better start ; the storm is only getting worse ? " A curious sort of chill seemed to fall upon the ill-assorted company. " Yes, very true ; you had better say good- bye," said John to Theo, after an awkward pause, and she quickly did as he wished. It all seemed such a horrid confusion, that she could not remember afterwards how she had parted with Ada and Gerald after their happy, short afternoon. Mr. Litton seemed to have disappeared after Hugh's recognition. Both her companions were rather silent 27© GERALD. on the way home, Hugh especially so, and she felt a little angry and amused at the consciousness that she was In disgrace. "Where did you know Litton?" John Goodall asked Hugh as they drove along. ''He was in the service ; perhaps you know," said Hugh stiffly. ''You don't think very well of him, it seems." "He did not bear a shining character." No more was said then, but when Captain North came into the drawing-room before dinner, and found Theo there alone, he went up and stood near her, and said very gravely : " My dear Theo, those people to-day are not at all fit acquaintances for you." Theo flushed crimson ; she was extremely annoyed, and a reaction from the excitements of the day had made her temper very uncertain. A WILFUL WOMAN. 271 '' I assure you, Hugh," she said, ^' you are not the first person who has told me so. Helen and John have been repeating It ever since I came." ''Then they could surely " began Hugh. *' No, they could not," said Theo. '' I like Mr. Fane very much indeed, and I am very fond of his sister," flushing more deeply still. '' If I had had my own way, I should have seen a great deal more of them. As it is, I have only been there once, and that was to-day. I hardly know the brother, and I don't like him." '' You will understand me better, perhaps," said Captain North, speaking low and quickly, for Helen was coming through the hall, "when I tell you that Clarence Litton was the man who swindled and ruined my father." CHAPTER XV. WINTER. Captain North's disclosure had an effect upon Theo with which he ought to have been satisfied. His father had been dearer to her than her own, and was, Indeed, the only person to whom she had given the whole love and reverence of her nature. She felt with Hugh, that there could be no forgiveness for the man who had been Uncle Henry's friend, whom he had trusted, who had cheated and betrayed him. She could not, it was plain, have anything to do with that man — or with his relations. She threw Gerald's rose into the fire that night, and WINTER, 273 sat looking, long after it had disappeared, at the red little cavern where it had been, till her eyes became dim, and she could not look any longer. Hugh and she did not mention the subject again ; it was too painful to them both ; but by her gentleness and sweetness the next day he understood that she meant to make a little amends for her obstinacy. It was only that, however. Hugh could not flatter himself that she had been glad to see him the day before, or that she cared at all to go back with him to London. He had known Theo too long to be deceived In her moods. He was jealous and unhappy, though Theo did not trouble herself to know that. It was hard, he thought, that he should have found out in Scotland how much he cared for her, and should have come back to find that some new barrier had been set up between them. For as he sat in the railway-carriage and VOL. I. T a74 GERALD. looked at Theo, and she looked far beyond him, it made him sad to feel how little hope there was of ever coming between Theo and her dreams. In the summer, he had thought that he might safely wait for a long time ; now he wondered how he could have made such a terrible mistake. He could not forget the look, the flush, with which Theo had spoken of Gerald Fane ; she had had no idea how much it told him. He certainly believed that what he had said about Litton had been a strong check, and that the affair would no doubt pass away in time ; but at present the pale face opposite, the quiet lips and thoughtful eyes, the slightly puzzled look that Theo always had when her mind was uneasy, told him plainly that he must wait ; if he could keep his old place with Theo, it was all that he must expect now. He took her to Lady Redcliffs, and went WINTER. 275 off to his quarters with a heavy heart, all the heavier because the thing had been in part his own doing ; he had himself suggested that Helen should ask her down there. He was very angry with himself, not with Theo ; he could understand, he thought, how those scheming people had worked on her generous heart ; she believed in them, as his father had once believed in Litton. All his friends were quite aware of his low spirits, and thought he must have had very bad sport in Scotland. Hugh left them to imagine what they liked. He went on wondering how long he could be patient — how long he could keep this love silent, which grew stronger every day. He went constantly to see Theo, for it was impossible to keep away, though Lady Redcliff snubbed him as usual, and every sight of Theo left him more miserable, and more conscious T 2 276 GERALD. how entirely all the feeling was on one side. As for Lady Redcliff, she hardly knew what to make of her granddaughter, now that she had her back again. Theo seemed in a great measure to have lost her old spirit — the Meynell temper was no longer so ready to flare up under sarcasm and provocation of all kinds. It did not at all please Lady Red- cliff to find that her sharpest speeches were hardly heard, or answered with what she thought a horrid unnatural gentleness. At first she was angry, and hardly spoke at all for a day or two, perhaps with an idea of paying Theo off In her own coin ; then, as this treatment had no effect on Theo, who moved about in listless, grave indifference, she became really anxious, and after much curious peering at the girl," burst out one day: WINTER, 277 ** Theo, you are in love — but not with your cousin, I'm glad to see.'' It was just after one of Captain North's hopeless visits, and Lady Redcliff had noticed with satisfaction that Theo did not seem sorry when he went away. Theo started violently ; she had been look- ing out of the window, but her thoughts were far away from London. She was instantly on the defensive, however, and something of the fine old scornful look came into her eyes as she turned towards Lady Redcliff '' No, grandmamma. What do you mean ?" she said. Lady Redcliff smiled maliciously, and went on looking at her in silence, till Theo changed colour, and turned to the window again. ''I'm glad you are awake," said Lady Redcliff '' I knew you would be bored with 278 GERALD. those Goodalls, but I hardly expected that the life would be literally bored out of you. You actually were extinguished — bored to ex- tinction — very expressive, but I never saw such an instance of it before. And is that poor wretch in love with you, may I ask } or what makes him so abominably dismal ? " " What poor wretch .^ " said Theo. " Hugh North, of course," said Lady Redcliff, beating impatiently on the arm of her chair. "In love with me .^ How you fancy things!" said Theo. "Hugh is just the same as ever. He is my brother, grandmamma ; you never will understand." " I don't think you are a humbug," said Lady Redcliff. " I believe you really are as blind as you seem to be. All I can say is, that a brother does not often look at his sister as that man looks at you — and I WINTER. 279 suspect it is you who won't understand. At least you can't, poor thing ! you were born stupid." Theo did not speak. '' Come, you are thinking of somebody else; who is it?" said Lady Redcliff. "You had better go back to Staffordshire to- morrow, for I see you have left your heart there. Who is it ? Mr. Goodall's head clerk ? " *' Please don't tease me now, my head aches," said Theo gently ; and it was such a pale face, with such weary, sorrowful eyes that she turned to her grandmother, that Lady Redcliff had a pang of repentance. *' You look like a ghost ; go to your room and lie down," she said. '* But just remember that I am your best friend, and that your wisest plan would be to tell me all about it." 28o GERALD. " I have nothing to tell you," said Theo as she left the room. '' It is the head clerk, I verily believe," mused Lady Redcliff when she was gone. " But how am I to do anything if the girl won't tell me ? Shall I ask that prig ? He probably knows or suspects. No, I won't have him between me and Theo. What an idiot he is ! If I were a young man, would I take so much snubbing ?" After this Theo had a great struggle with herself, and brightened up wonderfully. She was almost like her old self again ; she went out riding with Hugh, and walking every day with her friend Wool. She talked to Hugh just as she used to talk in the old days about anything that came uppermost. Her cousin — most cautious of men — found great happiness in listening to every laugh, and in watching every sign of returning spirits. WINTER. 281 It was a struggle for him, too ; he thought he must still wait a little longer ; he could not risk everything on Theo's present mood ; and the waiting was not quite such hard work, now that she was her old self with him again. He began to feel that all would come right in the future, if only he had patience. Lady Redcliff watched Theo's humour too, but not with so much confidence, for she was a very clever old woman. Besides, she saw Theo at times when Hugh did not — in the long evenings, when she sat reading till her grandmother was ready to play cards. Those were the times for dreaming, and Lady Redcliff would start up suddenly from a prolonged inspection of Theo's face under the lamp, while she herself was supposed to be asleep after dinner, and the game that began after those wakeful fits of hers was pretty sure to end in a quarrel. Lady Redcliff 283 GERALD. would dash the cards across the table, and Theo would ring the bell sharply and walk scornfully out of the room. She was now quite equal to the old fights with her grand- mother, and Lady Redcliff often saw that brown flame in her eyes which she loved, because it belonged to the Meynells. In these days Theo thought it right to try and forget the existence of the Fanes alto- gether. She might have been more successful if it had depended on herself whether she should ever hear of them again. Theo had great strength in doing what she chose, and her ideas of right and wrong were very de- cided. Uncle Henry, the loved authority of her early life, now stood between her and them, and the thought of him was still, for Theo, to be regarded above all other thoughts. If she had known that before, she said to herself, she would never have attempted to WINTER. 283 make friends with them. But now the future was a Httle out of her own power. Any post might bring a letter from Ada, claiming the help she had offered ; and then what was she to do ? That question would press itself on her mind continually, and other questions seemed to follow after it. One could not rule one's memory, one could not drive the sad, troublesome, attractive subject away, when the postman's knock was always coming to make one's heart beat quicker. It was a cold winter, and all through January Theo hardly went out, for Lady Redcliff was ill, and could not bear to lose sight of her. It was a repetition of last winter, when she had been with Colonel North all through his illness. He certainly was a very different kind of patient, thinking of everything but himself, while this poor woman thought of nothing but herself. Still, 284 GERALD. she was more bearable In illness than In health, for she was cheerful, Interested in her symp- toms, and bore pain like the old heathen philosopher she was. She had every intention of getting better, and her funny old doctor, in whom she had more confidence than in any other living person, told Theo there was no cause for fear. '' Lady Redcliff won't die till she chooses," he said ; and, as she looked at him, a little grave and surprised, he added : '' strength of mind has a great deal to do with it, and some people have kept themselves alive for years by resolution." "It must be a great effort. I think I should be too lazy for It," said Theo. '' I'm afraid you would," said the old doctor. '' Pity — it's better to be active and courageous, like your grand- mother." WINTER. 285 " Is it worth while ? " said Theo, half to herself, as he left the room. Hugh came often to see her in those dark afternoons. He was tender and kind, and Theo looked forward to seeing him with her old feeling of peaceful trust, wondering now and then how her grandmother could have misunderstood him so absurdly. This was just as Hugh wished, for he had resolved not to trouble her till Lady Redcliff was quite well again, and her mind was at rest. At last, one mild afternoon in February, when Lady Redcliff was much better, and had been out for a drive, he called rather late, and asked Theo if she would let him take her to the Old Masters the next day. A picture of his was there — a Gainsborough portrait of an ancestress of his own and Thco's. It used to hang over the writing-table in his father's library, and had been a familiar friend to him 286 GERALD. and Theo from their childhood. Theo much wished to go and visit the picture in its crowded soHtude at BurHngton House ; she made Hugh smile by saying that dear Mrs. Hildebrand, as they called her, must be so very dull there. '' I don't think so," he said. *' She has plenty of friends in the same room." Theo looked so happy and sweet, as she sat by the fire in the twilight and talked about Mrs. Hildebrand, that Hugh gazed at her with a mixture of intense joy and pain. There was no danger of her finding him out, for she was thinking of the great-great-aunt, who had been a celebrated beauty in her day, but who never, Hugh felt sure, could have had the lovely distinction of Theo. '' My darling ! " he said to himself, " I can't bear it any longer. I shall ask her to-morrow, and I think she likes me enouo^h, almost." WINTER. 287 Theo little guessed what was in store for her, though Hugh's manner at parting was a shade more affectionate than usual. ''Then I may come to-morrow, dear?" he said, bending over her, and holding her hand for a moment. '' Yes, please do. I shall be so glad," said Theo. END OF VOL. I. CHAS. DICKENS AND EVANS, CRYSTAL PALACE PRESS. ;r A Gerald. A novel. (XC c CCCc C 3 0112 0889fi7Q4Q Cl^C cco;x, x: ex ■ :0 x cc cr r-CCX''^:f ^CC CE"- ccc \ < c c CCC, c err Cv