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" Checkmate, Nice. I am too much for you," said the boy, triumphantly. •' You always are," pouted his antagonist. ''It is very good of me to play, seeing that defeat is a foregone conclusion ; I only stand up to be knocked down like a panta- loon to a rude clown." . VOL. I. 3 34 EUNICE. " Have another game ; it is excellent training for a woman to be beaten." " Very well," said Eunice, too indifferent to argue these vital principles with a hr other and a hoy^ and placing the pieces. " Oh ! father, did I tell jou that I saw my favou- rite, Lady Yerschoyle '{ — she and Mrs. Marshall called this afternoon." " Did they ?" said Sir Peter, in gratified tones. " I hope you were at home, my love ?" turning to a large fair lady, who sat working at a table near. " But, yes, certainement ; et elle est toute charmante, cette chere Lady Ver — Ver que son nom est bete !" " Oh yes !" cried Eunice ; " milady and Mrs. Marshall became grand alhes, talkmg French together, and leaving Lady Ver- schoyle to me. I am so glad they have taken Fairfields, though only for a year : if we make ourselves very agreeable they may like the county and settle here." EUNICE. 35 " Yes, it would be a good thing for the neighbourhood ; we want famihes of posi- tion," rephed Sir Peter. "These people, too, have money ; she was the heiress of a rich merchant." " She talks of having some theatricals in September, when they ^vill have visitors for the shooting, and she asked me to act. Is not that deHghtful T " Attend to the game, Eunice,'" said her brother, sharply. " You are in difficulties again ^^dth your chattering." " Ah ! you led me into it, you bad Lionel ! That is good, though ! Check to your queen." " Well, I'll admit you take no unfair advantage,' said Leo, proceedmg to profit by her hint. " As for your dear Lady Verschoyle, heiress or no heiress, I expect she is a dear bargain as a \sdfe. She is an inveterate flirt, no man is safe from her. 3—2 36 EUNICE. One day it is Mr. Betliime, the next a High Church curate. I should not be surprised if she were to take a fancy to my tutor if he is a personable piece of humanity, or to — to myself" "Lionel," said his father, severely, "you are flippant, and much too ready with your opinions. Reserve your energies for your Latin and Greek." " Phew !" said Lionel, in disgust, " don't remind me of my coming purgatory. Not that I am ashamed to learn. I only wish that others were not ashamed to remain in ignorance." Eunice did not take up the gauntlet thus violently discharged at her ; she looked meekness personified. " And when does this instructor of mingled innocence and genius propose to arrive, father ?" continued the boy. " To-morrow ; he does not mention the EUNICE. 37 train. And I beg that you will treat him with proper respect. He is quite a gentle- man, and was a distinguished student at Oxford. He has since been in Italy for a year with young Ansted, Lord Triptown s son." " I suppose he knows Itahan," said Miss Grantley ; '' the language beyond all others that I should like to learn. But / know nothing y '' This young Harnage is to be pitied," said her father, disregarding her melancholy profession of ignorance. " Brought up to expect a prosperous mercantile career ; now on just entering life he finds his prospects a blank. I wish you to be considerate, Leo, in your conduct. Although his uncle is a bankrupt, he has failed honourably ; circumstances have been too strong for him to be able to breast them.'' " 1 hope he is not a prig," muttered 38 EUNICE. Lionel, already impatient under this tutor- ing. " If he is, I shall instruct Rip to revenge my wrongs." •* Ce vilain oiseau," sighed Lady Grant- ley. •' Qu'il soit mort, je serais heureuse," her cold light eyes darting a look of intense dislike at Lionel, perhaps as the proprietor of the aforesaid bird. " There ! that is over," said Eunice, putting her piece de resistance deUberately into the fat bishop's mouth ; and tossing back the tangled locks that gave her a shaggy, colt-hke appearance, she rose hastily, and went over to her father, and kneeling by his side put her arms coaxingiy round liis neck. " Dear father, I have a favour to ask ; you know how ignorant I am — I am shocked when I reflect upon it." Sir Peter did not combat the proposition, he only looked fondly at the bright face EUNICE. 39 and laughing hazel eyes, that could so well give expression to mischief or tenderness — the former the more usually presiding motive power. She was quite grave ; her fingers twined in his thick white hair, busy in augmenting his long head by a lofty frizzled coiffure. " Since dear mamma died," she continued, " I have had so little regular instruction. Why should not this Mr. Harnage give me lessons in arithmetic and in Italian. I can scarcely add two and two togethei', and I have always wished to learn Italian. French I am niastering pretty weU with mammas practical assistance." The little diplomatist used the tender appellation, rare from her hps, knowing it to be the surest road to her father s heart. Lady Grantley raised her head and listened intently, but the heavy drooping lids still veiled the prominent eyeballs, and 40 EUNICE. her features were impassive under her step- daughter's eagerness. " Can this Admirable Crichton teach music ^" " I should think not, my dear ; but the sums and ItaHan are quite in his way, and I see no objection." '' Mais, mon cher sar Petare," expos- tulated his wife ; " ce n'est pas comme il faut — not at all ; un jeune homme " " What do you fear. Lady Grantley ?" said Eunice, proudly, regarding her with a direct gaze that compelled her step- mother to raise her eyes. " Oh ! nonsense, my love," said Su^ Peter,, who was jealous of any interference with his authority : " we English parents have confidence in our children ; we do not guard our jeunes demoiselles so strictly. If Mr. Harnage will undertake to give this EUNICE. 41 little ignoramus some lessons, he will earn my gratitude." His wife shrugged her shoulders slightly, and with a bow — " Mais apres tout, c'est a Monsieiu' se decider." •' Thank you, dearest old papa," the brightest smile widening Eunice's some- what large mouth. '' I will reward you by showing you how clever I can become. I did try to learn of Mr. Whippem, but he was so stupid." '"I approve," said Lionel. "I foresee a division of labour which will be favour- able to my constitution. Never fear. Pater, but that I will take care she does her fair share of work this time ; we will brighten her." '' You, at least, are not of polishable texture, Leo," retorted Eunice, " or Mr.. Whippem must have been more suc- cessful. " 42 EUNICE. "As I said before, I see no objection," said the Baronet, ^\itll the deliberation with which he loved to speak. " Mr. Harnage will be here, therefore we may as well employ his time. Now, graceless children, to bed." CHAPTER IV. Though equal to all things, for all things unlit ; Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit ; For a patriot too cool ; for a judge disobedient ; And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. IR PETER GRANTLEY did not sleep well ; but his disquiet was in no means due to repentance for his consent to his daughters wishes, Eunice's request that Mr. Hamage should attempt to remedy her educational defects appearing to him reasonable, nay, praise- worthy. It was imperatively necessary to give Lionel a tutor, the poor lad being debarred by his misfortune from school life ; and the sixty pounds a year, with a few judicious words to Harnage at starting, could easily be brought to cover Eunice's 44 EUNICE. lessons. With her good looks and sweet ways, his daughter would of course marry, and marry well ; fulfil the destiny of per- sonable women ; meantime it would be no drawback to the child's pretty face to add a settmg of accomphshments, if the same were to be obtained for nil. That same question — expense — was be- come a very foremost one since his disinte- rested second marriage, all his property being strictly entailed on the eldest son ; not that he grudged Lionel his inheritance ; his feehngs for his deformed boy were a credit to his heart ; the misshapen form raised only emotions of the tenderest com- passion in his fatherly breast, and he was for ever tr3nLng to make amends to the lad by an indulgence in every whim, and per- mitting him a licence of tongue that he would have promptly checked in any one eJse. Lionel loved his father for this for- EUNICE. 45 bearance, which had, however, fostered liis waywardness ; the treatment was not with- out its wisdom ; Lionel was happy, not- withstanding the blight that rested upon him ; was apparently unconscious of his ap- pearance, was self-satisfied and even vain. Sir Peter Grantley was an affectionate husband, a kind father, a sincere friend, and a good hater ; yet 'spite of these strong points he was not a success. Tolerant and benignant in home life, his manners were apt to be overbearing abroad, tinctured with the opinion old country gentlemen are given to holding, that the world was or should be made for them. His preju- dices and partialities were equally violent, and we may add equally unreasonable ; weaknesses that had procured him the intolerance of his clientele, and availed to drive him forth prematurely from the political arena where he would still have 46 EUNICE. fain appeased his thirst for glorj. Unfor- tunately Sir Peter was a man of ideas, and as such not content to be a mere par- liamentary hack — to be uniform in his behaviour to his constituents — to follow his leader — swear by his party, and to do his best to worry the Opposition in season and out of season. He showed himself lamen- tably deficient in these first principles of a legislator's life ; he must needs step out of this beaten track, and often carried away by convictions, he had made a speech of astounding clumsiness, and ended by voting in open defiance of his side of the House. Such conduct in a Conservative, who is indeed nothing if not consistent, was un- pardonable : his party came to look upon the worthy Baronet as a petulant child, whose whims none could answer for, and his leader prepared a signal vengeance. Six years Sii' Peter sat for Trenton, filling-- EUNICE. 47 the position, as he imagined, with honour to himself and profit to his constituents : — had he been behind the scenes (which few of us are where our dearest interests are con- cerned) he might have been spared a crush- ing mortification. Casual groans and mut- tered grumblings occasionally reached him, but Sir Peter deemed them '' sounds of fury, signifpng nothing," and serenely self- complacent, judged his seat unassailable ; an illusion that was doomed to be rudely dispelled. The flourishing town of Trenton having risen principally on Grantley acres, partook of the nature of a pocket borough, and from time immemorial had been represented by the family whenever they had a twig pos- sessed with the smallest desire to stand. Years rolled on, and houses and factories were built, and passed in many instances into alien hands ; but though they paid 48 EUNICE. neither tithe nor rent, they yet owned an allegiance, and their votes could be securely counted upon by the Conservative Grantley. That such good old traditions should ever be perverted by a beer-serving public ! A Ministerial crisis gave rise to an appeal to the country, and threw Sir Peter on the mercy of his supporters before that trying period had been duly prepared for by a series of judicious entertainments — those social benefactions which act in such a subtle way on the result of elections ; and the modern accredited householders, capricious in their political affections, were not slow to give ear to the pretensions of a smart, bewhiskered London lawyer, who with the prospect of the chief law office before him, and with all his wits in shar- pened condition and unlimited fees in his pockets, scattered dinners and suppers broadcast, and made beer — even the merry EUNICE. 49- vintage of Champagne — flow copiously, riverlike through the town. Seduced from their old friend by tliis generous admirer, their heads heavy with the intoxicating draughts, and beguiled by the S3rren tongue of the stranger, Trenton cast aside Sir Peter Grantley, and with one consent elected Mr. Harry Bethune. Mr. Bethune had come in on the same politics — there was the pill for Sir Peter — to be beaten by his own party ! It turned the milk of his political nature sour for good and all. and in a frenzy of outraged feeling, Sii- Peter — not the first by any means — sought comfort in revenge ; he ratted. From sound Conservatism ('spite his erratic courses, he had never contem- plated a retirement, even to the cave of AduUam), he veered round to barefaced Liberahsm ; at least his quondam allies should discover he had enough power to VOL. I. 4 50 EUNICE. be a thorn in their side. Finding this panacea for his woes insufficient (lie could not worry his foes much), he sought further distraction by going abroad ; whence he returned with a wife — a pale, silent woman, dressed in sombre colours, who showed none of the Hght-hearted loquacity peculiar to her nation. It was a nine days' wonder that Sir Peter should have given his children a foreign stepmother, and one so poorly educated that she had no knowledge of that universal language — English. This was the criticism of those neighbours whose sickly attempts at friendliness had been nipped by distrust of their own French accent. Others, supe- rior to tliis drawback, went so far as to doubt the purity of Lady Grantley's pro- nunciation of her own tongue. However, it mattered httle, the bride was of a retiring nature, and as she joined no EUNICE. 51 coterie, they soon agreed to leave her to herself. She seemed harmless enough^ — a tall, dehcate person, who preserved no elements of showiness, who never committed herself to a decided opinion, and who suf- fered a chronic lassitude which did not prevent her possessing a stock of toleration for her husband and an unlimited fund of adoration for her child — the latter feeHng counterbalanced by her veiled but intense dislike of Lionel. She regarded her stepson with fear and aversion, in consequence of the shafts of ridicule he perpetually launched against any one who tickled his fancy and awakened the train of his conceits ; he was also endowed with a talent for mimicry which did not tend to render him less obnoxious to Lady Grantley. She did not extend her antipathy to Eunice ; it would have been difficult to entertam any, the girl was so sweet and kind and unobtrusive, 4—2 LIBRARY 52 EUNICE. had given way to her so gracefully as mis- tress of the mansion, and above all showed so much affection for her half-brother, that she had made a soft corner in Lady Grant-- ley's not very impressionable heart. CHAPTER V. The baby figure of the giant mass of things to come. HAT place is this?" inquii-ed Harold Harnage, as the train slackened speed and then ran into a spacious station. " Trenton ! Trenton !" bawled the porters. Another moment and he was out on the platform and in the hands of an able- bodied individual, who pounced upon him as his lawful prey. " Luggage, sir — yes, sir, behind, sir ; all right, sir." His enthusiasm cooled on finding that this first-class passenger refused to drive. " How far is it to Grantley ?" 54 EUNICE. " Hather better nor a mile." *' Can you direct me ?" '' Cross the road there ; go straight on until you comes to a bridge ; then to the left." Leaving instructions that his portmanteau should follow humbly on a barrow, Harold strode oft', having decided to make an un- assmning entrance to his new home on foot. He found himself in a clean neat town ; most of the buildings bore the marks of youth : a church with a spire of unex- ampled height, an imposing town-hall (which served as assize-court), and a com- modious market-place, seemed to give pro- mise that Trenton knew its responsibilities, and meant to perform them. The bills on a Methodist chapel, exhorting the passers- by to " Flee from the devil," were not so reassuring, as suggesting an alarming in- habitant. EUNICE. 55 Presently Harold was on a country road, surrounded by soft fertile valleys and breezy, healthy hills — a goodly sight ! — fields stored with golden grain contrasting admirably mth dense masses of trees that waved their branching cro\vns on the up- lands. The hedge-banks tmned with ^\ald roses, and riclily clothed with feathery ferns and foxgloves that drooped their tasseled heads, charmed his eyes. He felt free and happy, like a bird flown from its cage, or a horse turned loose to go where it hsts. In youth we are easily content ; the rich blood which then courses so freely through our veins, our perfect digestions, our buoyant hopes and untrammeled minds, all conspire to make us readily cheerful. Harold Harnage was perfectly satisfied with the not very enviable position in which he found himself — on the world, left to his own devices to seek a subsistence, encum- 56 EUNICE. bered with no patronage, and unshackled by parental authority. To a young man barely twenty- four, sound of wind and limb, this destitute condition was not without its attractions ; his worst evil was poverty, and this the young athlete could easily en- counter ; with a fund of health and hope to draw upon he did not feel a pauper, al- though he had something less than twenty pounds in the world. He congratulated himself that he was well educated : if his patrimony had melted under his uncle's hands, this praiseworthy result had at least been attained and was a secure investment beyond the reach of fluctuations in trade, and one that ought with decent manage- ment to be made to bring in tolerable interest. He had been disagreeably startled to find that his mother s little fortune had entirely evaporated in paying expenses which his uncle always led him to believe EUNICE. 57 were defrayed by his own purse, and which same favours his nephew had dutifully ac- knowledged many a time and oft. But when a man is in difficulties, relatives must not scrutinize these details too closely. Harold thought gratefully of his uncle's many kindnesses, though perhaps the one for which he felt the liveliest sense at this present time was that Mr. Harnage had withdrawn his opposition to the teaching whim, had smoothed all arrangements with his new employer, and allowed liim to depart in peace. Harold's mind dwelt Httle on the people he was going among ; the cacoethes scri- bendi mania still held him in thrall, and he had taken this appointment as the most available means for providing the necessities of life, and with every intention to employ his leisure in invoking Minerva in the form of prose. He had given his uncle only a 58 EUNICE. half-hearted promise — he would abstain from writing poetry, for such had not stood the aspiring one in good stead, but he was not beaten, he would woo fame in another path — his critics might be dead or asleep ; at least, they should not silence him yet What should he fear who had a hand, a heart, a quarrel, and an injury ! Grantley was a pretty place ; he began to take an interest in it for its own sake. Hills rose on every side, gentle hills, and Hned with deep umbrageous woods ; cottages so few they could be counted on his fingers, snug cottages that did not preclude the notion of comfort (Sir Peter was a careful landlord) ; a rural bridge covered with moss, — and now he felt a thrill — could he be afraid ? — those griffins, one without a nose, were imposing as he passed through the aristocratic gates, and was within the EUNICE. 59 demesne. It looked grand and yet home- like. The cattle were standing knee-deep in the stream that skirted the park, laving themselves in the hot sun ; lowing Alder- neys and bees droning in and out of rich garden flowers gave comfortable promise of a land flowing with milk and honey. Leafy parasites wove a lavish network over the southern front of the house, which was large and rambhng, and low of stature ; the plots immediately around it would have furnished no unworthy coronal for Flora ; geraniums in wondrous varieties, striped carnations and clove pinks heavy with scent, every breeze that swept over them bore a gale of perfume on its wings. Here all was art, carefully cultivated art, art triumphant. Then came a shrubbery and some fine old trees, giving through their foliage peeps of green slopes and wooded walks. <6o EUNICE. "" Mr. Hamage, I presume," said a voice at his elbow, a solemn, slow voice. Harold started and bowed. A gentleman of ruddy countenance, and dull, unsettled eyes, and a tall, fair lady were close by his side : they had come up quietly behind him on the greensward, as he stood admiring the prospect and debating how he could best cool his heated face before seeking the acquaintance which had opened thus abruptly. " I vare happy to see you, sare,'' said Lady Grantley, politely, observing that he was incapable of speech, and with a true feminine desire to put the young man at his ease. " Enchante de faii'e ta con- naissance," she amended, evidently doubt- ful as to the success of her trip into a strange tongue. " You are very kind. I — I — thank you," stammered Harold. EUNICE. 6 1 " The weather make fine time : it make vare hot — vare hot," reiterated her lady- ship, who had caught the EngHsh habit of making the weather a scapegoat in the dearth of other topics. She gave an im- patient glance at her husband, and con- tinued, " I think we good fortunate to secure an instruct for young boy. Oil est ce cher Lionel, sare Petare ?" Sir Peter s brow was puckered, and his loose, undecided mouth drawn up in the intensity of his observation of the specimen just imported, but he now came to the rescue with a few disjointed remarks, delivered with effort and frequent heavy relapse. Harold was too new to the position to say much ; Sir Peter's cold gravity and sonorous voice were alarming, and Lady Grantley s peculiar manner — a mixture of lassitude and wariness — had already impressed him. The worthy 62 EUNICE. Baronet was, however, harmless enough : he was proud of his mde forehead, and stood before Harold doing his best to increase its spaciousness by passing his hands frequently through his thick wliite locks, cleverly elevating them into per- pendicular walls and imparting an air of ferocity to his visage. Harold found him- self Hstening as in a dream to praise and blame of Lionel, and before he knew clearly what was required of him, had assented to Sir Peter s proposition that Miss Grantley should be included in certain studies. " I think we understand each other, Mr. Harnage," said Sir Peter, more cordially (he had made the sixty pounds per annum the distinct ultimatum of expense). " Come with me, and I mil introduce you to your pupil : you will find plenty to do here. Lionel's education, oTving to his health, has been desultoiy and immethodical. I EUNICE. 63 shall be your debtor if you can rectify some of his faults. You no doubt know that to govern well it is necessary to have energy, principles, and a wholesome severity without cruelty. My son, although I say it, is quick and clever ; but a vivid imagi- nation, unless it be qualified and directed by learning and judgment, is worth little ; it is a cloud driven about aimlessly by the gusts of fancy, and only knowledge can turn it into a beneficent and " the Baronet looked around on his parched flower-beds and they suggested a closing period — "a beneficent and fertihzing rain." The fountain of Sir Peter's oratory once undammed he became gHb enough. " You are orthodox, I hope ? Our Alma Mater is not yet corroded by that spirit of sceptical curiosity which is taking the place of simple faith." 64 EUNICE. " We live in an inquiring age," assented Harold. "It is our sin," said Sir Peter, solemnly; *' we question everything, and shall soon end in believing nothing. Science with her dazzling beauty is the mother of heresy, a dangerous syren, who, when we dally with her, leads us further than we would J) go- " You think that he who inquires too far often ends by being more foolish than he who inquires not at all ?" " Exactly so ; I see you take me," said Sir Peter, blandly. -^^^ CHAPTER VI. Standing with reluctant feet Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet ! Longfellow. E shall get on together; I can see you are a good fellow," said Lionel, approvingly. "I can detect a sham directly. Old Whippem — my last coach, you know — he was slow. What do you think of Eip ?" The raven, a fine specimen of its tribe, followed them, advancing sideways in regular hops. Rip's walk was sedate but oblique ; he had an unconquerable objection to direct- ness of conduct under any circumstances. " Now, Bip, air your accomplishments ; say ' I know you. ' " VOL. L 5 66 EUNICE, The bird halted and turned his sleek blue-black head on one side with a know- ingness that seemed to infer he had too much regard for his character to obey his master. Harold thought him and his bird a queer pair, well assorted with their elfish looks. " He is my pet companion," said the boy, " ranks even before Nicey — she's my sister," he condescended to explain, " and not bad for a girl. You are to teach her, too." " Yes, I have been told that my responsi- bihties are to be increased." And mentally Harold indulged a hope that his unknown pupil might be more like the rest of the world. "You are thinking that you never saw such a grotesque piece of humanity before," said the boy, hopping along in awkward haste. He was wonderfully active, as though EUNICE, 67 composed of elastic springs. " But defor- mity and ugliness have advantages," said the young cynic, peering up in his com- panion's face ; " instead of wasting my time watching the lustre of my eyes and in care of my complexion and eyebrows, I con- centrate my energies on the improvement of my mind. " " You show your sense in being content," said Mr. Harnage kindly, and unaffected by the implied charge of vanity. " The shrewd witty men of history have usually had the distinction of ugliness or personal defects, ^sop, Socrates, Scarron, were ill-grown, plain men who yet contrived to influence mankind. " " I would rather be as I am than a dwarf well-proportioned," replied the lad ; " one might be an accident, the latter is Nature's deliberate insult." " I had a conversation with Sir Peter," 5—2 ^8 EUNICE. said Mr. Harnage, trying to change the subject. " He appears most anxious for your welfare and that you should progress with your studies." " Oh 1 ah ! — yes. I daresay," drawled Lionel. " Here comes that turnip with ears — my precious brother ! — another and important member of this happy family," pointing to a child who, much be-starched and be-feathered, marched along head-in-air and toy sword in hand. " Look at the little innocent in its best bib and tucker — the incipient vanity of the atom ! I wish I could choke it with its own bull's-eye " (viciously). " It is always kicking my shins by accident. If I catch him alone, you'll hear of an accident." Rip, who disliked children, and Adrian in particular, had made a rapid advance, using his wings for a series of short flights, and began to peck at the child's red stockings. EUNICE. 69 Adrian dropped his sword, and moved his legs ludicrously, screaming lustily, but did not attempt to show fight or to run away. *' Master Lionel, call him oJ0P ! He's a killing Master Hadrian," cried the distressed damsel in charge, making however no effort towards a rescue. " It's my belief that bird is a demon, and his master, too," muttered the girl, as Harold promptly snatched up the child, while Lionel stood by with an amused smile. " Well ! young Hopeful, how are the stockings ?" inquired Lionel, placidly. " You're a ball-constrickler, Leo ! Mamma says so," screamed Adrian, and slapping his deliverer energetically in the face in the confusion of his feelings. Harold soon put him into his nurse's arms. " When I am big, I will fight Leo, and kill Rip," roared Adrian, eloquent de- 70 EUNICE, termination in his pouting red lips and flashing eyes. " I know you ! — I'm a thief — am I ?" said the raven, suddenly giving tongue and hurhng the concluding query at the depart- ing foe with indescribable defiance. Harold began to think he had pitched upon warm quarters for the dog-days. " You do not appear to be much attached to your brother. '^ " I like children — a long way off,'^ an- swered Leo, with the dehberation of a man of sixty. " The way that infant is brought up is disgustiQg. Have you seen Lady Grantley V " I have had that honour." "A — ah" (drawing a long breath), "I was made to be a contiauous joy to my mamma-in-law. Wasn't I, Eip ?" The raven delivered himself of several — " Choks !" and continued to mingle in the EUNICE. 7X conversation, announcing with startling distinctness — " bad boy ! — I know you," and apparently experienced a desire to follow up the introduction by making near ac- quaintance with Mr. Harnage's legs, pranc- ing along at a pace half hop, half walk, and when Harold was off guard making vigorous pecks at his calves. " I suppose you speak French well V inquired Mr. Harnage, parrying Hip's attack as well as he could. " Je voudrais si je couldrais, mais je ne cannais pas," repHed Lionel, mockingly. " Is that a fair specimen of your attain- ments ?" said Harold, suppressing a smile. " I hope you can give me a better one of your Greek and Latin." " Not mucL I never could see the use of the dead languages." " They alone will always live." " Well, /think them anything but lively ^ 72 EUNICE. ** Have you done any Virgil or Sallust V " Precious little. I am not heavy on the classics, I tell you," said Lionel, candidly. *' Have you done much algebra then V " Can't say that I have," he answered, crustily : then, in a lighter tone, " But no doubt you will soon instruct my vernal mind ; at present I am a flower in the bud, a chicken in its shell." He added, in the hope of checking further inquiries, " Come along into the rosery (you may as well learn your way about here), it has not been made long. Nothing T'/ould content my sister but to have a garden entirely for roses, and since she carried her point she does work like a nigger. Ah ! hard at it, I see." Mr. Harnage's temper was not in best condition ; he was about to repay Rip for his attentions by a well- administered kick at the precise moment that he became aware of the presence of a girl half hidden EUNICE. 73 amid the rose bushes. Engaged indus- triously in tending her pets, Eunice did not perceive their approach. Her large hat had fallen to the groiuid, leaving exposed to view oceans of rippling brown hair loosely tied back. Beauty and health are the attributes of gardening ; and though with- out claims to absolute beauty, she made a pretty figure in the foreground of the well- mown grass, which showed smooth as a velvet mantle against the yellow of the well-knit gravel. " Well, Nice ! courting a sunstroke in place of a sunshade with your usual con- trariness of taste." She started at Lionel's words and rose precipitately, looking, as Harold felt, an- noyed at the intrusion. He lifted his hat ceremoniously, a politeness she acknow- ledged simply by a stare. Lionel said nothing ; boy-like his tongue was tied when 74 EUNICE. it would be of service, or maybe he pur- posely did not lessen the awkwardness of the moment by a seasonable introduction. Harold, too shy to announce himself or his calling, faltered something about its being too hot for gardening. She cast another glance of mere observation on the new- comer. " You may well say that, Mr. Hamage. If you have the shghtest regard for your complexion, Eunice, I should advise your resuming your hat before Rip has de- molished it." Miss Grantley turned to rescue her pro- perty, which, after a stout defence. Rip resigned with an indignant " Carack," the straw the worse for many a cut and thrust of his active beak. Miss Grantley silently put on her head-covering, and went back to her employment, transplanting a some- what large standard rose (Eunice was for EUNICE. 75 ever trying curious experiments in hor- ticulture) ; and IVIr. Hamage, in the face of this direct hint from the young lady for their absence, continued his walk, followed by Lionel. " Miss Grantley is, as you see, faultless in person, and charming in disposition ; that she is a Httle less than perfect in edu- cation, and that her manners are also a trifle awry for want of training, are defects that you will address yourself to re- medying." " How odious boys are ! Lionel espe- cially," mused Eunice, overhearing this summary. "I feel I shall not like this new man" — giving the bush a vicious poke — " even old Whippem was better ; he knew his place. I know I look like a fire, which is unnecessary this roasting hot day, but the impertinence of a tutor to notice it ! He is not much to look at either" — stealing 76- EUNICE. a side glance. " He is quite a boy, too young to teach or to know anything. Determined and rather bad-tempered, I can see ; he has not that firm mouth and square chin for nothing. He is all eyes, and what broad shoulders !" refreshing her commentaries with another furtive glance. " Carries his head well ; but," shaking her own in grave disapproval, " whoever saw a schoolmaster with such a swinging walk ! — much too independent." There was an unconscious self-assertion in Harold's gait ; he had the free walk, with head thrown back and open chest, that practised athletes are sure to acquire. " Ah ! they are going away at last — good. No, they have sat down." (Mr. Harnage, seeing a convenient seat, suggested that his companion must be fatigued.) "How tiresome! I don't see, though, why it should make any difference to me. I shall finish my work. EUNICE. 77 He has come to stay, so I must get used to him." She wished them, nevertheless, at the bottom of the Red Sea ; in her wrath she did not assign them a hotter abode : she knew she was observed, and yet was too proud to allow it to affect her employ- ment. In a few mmutes the flowers en- grossed her attention, and, talking and singing to them, she forgot Harold's very existence. Mr. Hamage was content to rest and admire the roses ; that his eyes should frequently stray to the queen of the flowers was natural ; a present human being is generally a centre of interest in any land- scape, however charming. He saw Miss Grantley fetch a large can of water, and baptize Eip, who continued his raids — liberally, by the way. Again she went for another supply. He fancied that she looked tired. His answers to Lionel became 78 EUNICE. random ; and, without a word of his pur- pose, he rose and went forward. " Miss Grantley, may I carry the water ? It is too heavy for you." At the sound of the grave, low voice at her elbow, the sweet eyes, dazed and won- dering at this recal from flower-life, looked full into his. He thought he had never seen any so lovely before — deep hazel, soft, yet dazzhng as a sunlit stream seen through an opening in its willow banks ; dark-brown hair, lying in rings over her creamy forehead ; and a wide, full-Hpped, good-tempered mouth. Her costume was singular: a brown holland skirt, tucked up, showing feet and ankles that could stand such display, and a large gardening pinafore — a garment suitable to her occu- pation, but few girls would have the courage to don so ugly an one. " No — that is, you may carry it if you EUNICE. 79 like," she answered, ungraciously. " I am tired, but I must finish the work." And he did like ; and as he was discreet, and did not attempt conversation, she felt more amiably towards him, even told him to fetch more water, with the air of one addressing a servant ; while he found his reward in watching the unstudied grace which characterized every movement. Lionel, rolling on the grass, enjoyed a game of diamond cut diamond with the raven. Rip was greatly attached to his master, and his devotion became more intense over a fresh phrase ; his round head bobbed up and down as he tried to repeat the new words. Rip was anxious about his education, and always seconded efforts to increase his vocabulary. CHAPTER VII. O, Star-eyed Science! hast thou wandered there, To waft us home the message of despair ? IE PETEE GRANTLEY looked on his new inmate with approval when Harold descended to the drawing-room, dressed for the dinner that was served with considerable ceremony at seven o'clock. " A chaque oiseau son nid est beau" — a happy conviction that Sir Peter enjoyed to the uttermost — any one who belonged to his household could do no wrong ; the segis of his own perfec- tions sheltered his belongings ; house, lands, wife, 'children, servants, mangle wnrzel, man-traps and spring-guns, as being alike part of himself, shared the totality of good. And now he was quite EUNICE. 8i ready to admit his son's tutor into tlie charmed circle, and prepared to believe that he must be a very superior young man — '' plenty of common sense." Sir Peter laid great stress on common sense. Persons more critical than Sir Peter would have agreed with him in this instance. A pleasing appearance is a valuable setting that enhances the beauty of the most priceless gem, and recommends it at once to the beholder. Clean-shaven, with a uniformly pale, clear complexion, Harold Hamage was fair and goodly to see. His large, well-opened eyes, gave him a frank sincere air, while courage and determination were stamped on every feature of his manly, sensible face, and spoke eloquently in his finely carried head, and in the vigorous symmetry of his Hmbs. His profile good ; nose, an instance of the cogitative with its full, wide nostnls ; and VOL. I. 6 82 EUNICE. TiiR mouth — his most attractive feature — not pretty or small, but a mouth which, even in repose and firmly shut, showed beautiful curves — a mouth that could give brave kisses, and utter strong words, and keep its owner's counsel well Nature could never intend him to be a mere butterfly, sipping the sweets of passing flowers, and flaimting his summer days in uninterrupted sunshine ; nor could she mean him to be a slug, dragging his slow miry way along the beaten track of commonplace ; circum- stance and opportunity alone could be wanting to rouse his powers into action. Sir Peter discussed the state of the country, and Harold Hstened with a well-bred deference that enchanted his employer, as in easy transition of sub- ject the Baronet dwelt on the consis- tency of his own pohtical career ; though whether he proved it to the satisfaction of EUNICE. 83 his hearer, or satisfied his own internal scruples, is another matter : — we have only to say a thing often enough, and ten to one we shall end in beheving it. " If the world thought him changed the fault was the world's ; he was the same as he had ever been, progressing towards right, while a foohsh world persisted in standing still." The atmosphere clouded somewhat at one period of the meal, Lady Grantley alluding rather tartly to Rip's raid upon her son's legs. " Doubtless you have been favoured, my love, with an exaggerated account by the abigail," said Sir Peter, good humouredly. " The little fellow is apparently none the worse for the encounter. " " Poor Rip ! Addy's red legs must have been irresistibly attractive," said Eunice. " Why didn't he run away ?" 6—2 84 EUNICE. *' Worse than useless," said Lionel. " Rip is an adept in the art of ingeniously torment- ing the enemy in the rear. It was comic to see the little beggar hopping first on one leg and then on the other as if he were dancing on hot irons." Her ladyship was likely to get scant sympathy ; hers and Rip's mutual hostility was a declared fact, only somehow the artful bird generally got the best of the vendetta ; she regarded him as a feathered fiend, the incarnation of every- thing horrible. " Le pauvre enfant," sighed Lady Grant- ley. " Embrasse ton pere, Adrien ; it is time you sleep," considerately applying her mouchoir to her son's mouth and nose before dismissing him for the night. "It is all Hke that with you EngHs," turning to Harold, a smile on her thin lips but no mirth in her eyes. " No mattare, EUNICE. 85 I say to myself, when a lady find herself in a strange country she keep her eye open but stare at nothing at all. " The lady practised what she preached, the prominent expres- sionless eyes which had no depth — which shone like painted glass — being constantly veiled by the drooping lids, her delicate look enhanced by her pale complexion, white with a lymphatic whiteness. " You come from London, sare T "Yes, Lady Grantley, and am very pleased to leave it." " London great deal much more large than Paris ; mais pas assez large, not finish yet ; make create quick new street, good many miles at a time." " How do you know T asked Sir Peter. *' I thought you had never been in London, Justine." Justine ! Harold almost started at the quiet, saintly appellation ; it did not accord 86 EUNICE. with those strong nervous hands, nor the thin lipless mouth, which in repose was like a locked vice. A flush struggled tardily into her pale cheeks. " Non, non, nevare, nevare," she said, hastily ; " but I read my papers." And the suspicion and caution which had been dissipated for the moment again settled on her countenance. *' I not know what I say. Ze EngHs is difficile ; c'est impossible that a stranger should miss to perplex himself with so many differents in one words. But it is a great country and a grande langage — Les Fran^ais know bettare to speak and to dress ; but ze Englis know bettare to think and to act. N'est-ce pas, monsieur ; I have the reason to it say T Harold bowed. " We must accept any role you choose to assign to us." He felt stupid and awk- EUNICE. 87 ward ; new to the position, he was afraid of saying too much or too little. " I prefer the character you have given us," said Eunice, merrily, " though you have appropriated the more pleasing and showy." " Appro — ! quel mot ! it crack one jaw for to say it. " " Father," said Lionel, " they have found out that it is Tom Lowe who has been play- ing those tricks in the town." " What tricks ?" '' Pretending to be a ghost, you know, and all that. He nearly frightened Mary Wilson into a lunatic asylum ; but her husband was a match for him, and before he could get off knocked him down " " When he was discovered to be an evil spirit, but of this world. He is a bad drink- ing fellow : those sort of people are very gullible to have been taken in by so coarse an article." 88 EUNICE. We live in a credulous age," said Harold. " Posterity will wonder at the fatuity that believed in Spiritualism ; it is not a whit better than the charms, witchcraft, and astrology of our ancestors." " Eather worse," said Eunice. " There is some poetry in a behef iq one's star, or in weanng an amulet, but none in chairs and tables moving, and rappings being heard at stated seances, when the audience is suffi- ciently large to make it worth the spirit's while to attend." It was the first sentence Miss Grantley had addressed to Harold since the water carrying, and now she did not look at him, nor did her distant half-scornfiil tone encourage further remarks. " The best excuse for these superstitions, is that they have their birth in the poetical part of our nature." E UNICE. 89 " No one could feel poetical in London," objected Eunice. " Difficult," admitted Harold, " but we do manage it sometimes." " London is a horrid place ! — the people all look unhappy. To drive down the streets of a poor neighbourhood and see the crowds of pale worn faces make one realize that we live in a world of sin." " You are very exaggerated, my dear," said her father. " Few people — even those who live in London — are unhappy or dis- satisfied. You meexi faces ploughed with lines of care, illness, poverty, age, but rarely of discontent. The masses are for the most part too unintellectual to have the wish or power to reason on their state : — like animals they are content with what they find is the normal condition of things. And not bad wearing philosophy either ; we cultivated 90 EUNICE. ones of the earth often make ourselves un- happy jB:om a superabundance of care and artful reasoning." " The happy ignorant are a strong majority," remarked Mr. Hamage : " there are few Fausts made miserable and repining by their learning." " That delightful Opera ! — the only one I have seen," said Eunice. " But Faust v^as discontented because he was old." In her eagerness she looked straight at him, and for the second time that day the new tutor thought her eyes lovely. " No, Miss Grantley, that is the mistake into which the pubHc have been led by the Opera version where the original idea is completely lost sight of The Belle Helene as performed nightly at the * Levity ' with the accompaniments of unlimited legs, spangles, rouge, and false hair, bears about as faithfiil a resemblance to its glorious pro- EUNICE. 91 genitor the ' Iliad/ as does the Faust of Goethe to the creation of the Opera libretto. All the poetry, the deep metaphysical imaginings, are carefully eliminated from the latter, and the story distorted to the merest commonplace, worthy only a child's story book. Faust is represented a decrepit old man of commonest clay, fast turning to his mother earth ; and when tempted he strikes a ready bargaiu with the evil one for a mere vulgar renewal of youth and its pleasures. Now Goethe's Faust is a refined creature. To begin with, he is compara- tively a young man, not more than forty, and therefore certainly not past the enjoy- ment of life as far as years are concerned. He is learned, but still dissatisfied and un- happy, and Mephistopheles assails him with the promise of urdimited gratification of every wish he can possibly form, on con- dition that his soul shall be forfeit if he 92 EUNICE. ever feels thoroughly and completely happy." " And is it possible that Faust could hope to escape ikud payment of his bond?" " Mephistopheles made a bad bargain for once, Miss Grantley; Goethe makes the repining natural to man to triumph ; and Faust is supposed never to be thoroughly content even for a time, and so preserves his soul. There is a deep second meaning in Goethe's wiitings which makes him difficult reading." " Ah ! they do make long preach in zis country," said Lady Grantley wearily, in an audible aside. " Qui est-ce done ce Goe — ?" She tried to repeat Goethe, and faihng, said Hghtly — " Soit pour dit ; il n'est pas courtois qui a ecrit cette parole." Harold thought it strange that she should never have heard the name before, but it EUNICE. 93 was a strangeness that did not seem to strike any one else. " It make very late," continued her lady- ship ; '* now you shall get some sleeps, Leon. Ce cher Leon have not had the sleep for one dozen days. C'est vrai. I say at last he shall get some sleep nevare." "Your tender consideration for my health, Madame, is most touching." " I forgot to tell you, father," said Eunice, " that Lady Verschoyle told me yesterday it is reported on good authority, that Mr. Justice Shearme is going to resign, and that Sir Harry Bethune is safe to be the new judge." " By St. George !— it is not unlikely." " Then who will be the new member % Do you mean to stand ?" " No, no, my boy, that sort of thing is quite over for me," said Sir Peter, sighing heavily. 94 EUNICE. " Lady Verschoyle has settled that, too," laughed Eunice. " Lord Errington means to try, and he is sure to get in. In addition to Trenton's natural proclivities there is a strong Conservative reaction." " Quite a politician. Miss Eunice ; but there must be a vacancy before it can be filled," said her father, grimly. " I actually heard in the town that that low fellow Pyke has designs on the borough in the Liberal interest." " If you dislike a person, Lionel, I should advise your practising the golden rule never to speak of him." said Sir Peter, severely. "If Mr. Pyke does come for- ward, he will have my countenance and support." Lionel tried to keep his extreme surprise out of his intelligent features. " But he's a regular Had, and is besides a stranger in the land." EUNICE. 95 " Le pauvre homme !" interjected Lady Grantley. " That gentle sigh is for the all-conquer- ing Pyke. I forget that he is a prime favourite of yours, Madame. " " Que vous etes mechant, Leon ! He play the part of a mauvais plaisant, monsieur. Yenez, Eunice cherie." CHAPTER VIII. Oh ! mirth and innocence 1 Oh ! milk and water ! Ye happy mixtures of more happy days. — Byron. R. HAENAGE paced the shrub- bery in complacent mood, glancing up ever and anon at the house where he had inaugurated many a night's repose by a sweet sleep, reserved for the blessed. He had just decided that the window where the white roses clustered must be Miss Grantley's, when he saw Eip approaching. The bird drew nearer in a succession of obHque movements ; and presently Harold began to suspect there were some manoeuvres in operation. With an air of extreme secrecy the raven from time to time lowered his head side- EUNICE. 97 ways, ear to the ground, evidently taking observation, then glancing over his shoulder to see if he were watched. Apparently satisfied, he fell to digging a hole as fast as his head would nod. Having concluded this part of the business, he peered around in the most significant manner, and hastily disgorging something bright in metal, it was dropped into the hole, and immediately covered. These arrangements finished with neatness and despatch, he hopped off with an air of extreme innocence. Harold emerged from his concealment, and made diligent search ; but it was long before he discovered the spot. He found the hidden treasure to be an old-fashioned pendant locket, and turning it, he saw the portrait of a man, painted on ivory ; and, to his fancy, it was curiously like his imcle Ralph. He had only a cursory glance, for Lady Grantley came out on the lawn ; and VOL. I. 7 98 EUNICE, Harold told her of this adventure, and tendered the recovered property. " Mille remerciemens ! c'est a moi. I not like to it lose. That bad vilain bird is my " Bete noire, maman," interrupted Miss Grantley, playfully, and returning Harold's bow (she did not offer to shake hands) with a nod and a smile. " You are fortunate to get it back. Rip generally hides his trea- sures too well. Is it a valuable locket ? — may I see it ?" " No, no, Eunice, I have it safe, and there approach that Keep. " Eunice pressed the request no further. Had she seen that portrait — and Lady Grantley had no particular wish to con- ceal it — it would in all probabihty have changed the course of Eunice's life, made the difference between happiness and misery, and life and death. On such EUNICE. 99 trifles do our most important afiairs some- times hinge. " E-ip has exhibited his weaknesses to you very early, Mr. Hamage," said Eunice demurely, her delicious features dehcately coloured by the morning breeze, and spark- ling with youth and happiness. " I am afraid his morahty is low ; cor- responds in blackness with his outward appearance. " " But he is a darling ! — so bold and clever. You must cultivate a hking for Kip for Leo's sake. He cannot help his monomania for petty larceny ; it is only by exercising strong self-restraint that he can resist the possession of a glittering object." "He has retained an effective special pleader," said Harold, obhvious that com- pliments to his pupil were not included in his list of duties. 7—2 loo EUNICE. Miss Grantley looked surprised and haughty. " That sounds very legal ; worthy of Sir Harry Bethune." And with a frown she floated away like a white cloud, leaving Harold to form strong resolutions to re- strict himself for the future in the matter of gallant speeches. The first day's lessons had gone off pretty well ; Lionel stood the test of examina- tion with creditable ignorance. Leo was a very feeble Greekling ; and Mr. Har- nage feared without the will to make a struggle towards strength : as far as he could discover, the principal indication of the boy's genius lay in a great power of imitating the cries of various animals and birds. Harold found him an uncomfortable pupil ; he belonged to the fidgety firaternity, and possessed by an active restlessness, EUNICE, loi distorted himself into every imaginable posture. He could not be strict with the poor lad, who was the reverse of strong and healthy. Even when Lionel tried to upset all authority and decorum by a startling outspeaking, a glance at his deformed figure, his hollow eyes and pallid com- plexion — a pallor enhanced by his straight lank dark hair — carried away the intended rebuke. Vainly did Mr. Harnage try to interest him in those great names that bum with quenchless fire, blazing like constellations through the dark night of antiquity. Lionel was determined that the mighty dead should not " rule his spirit fi'om their urns." He had a jeer and a gibe for everything. " You need not expect much from me," said Lionel, explanatorily. " I could not read until I was ten, or make pothooks until a year later. You see I have had it I02 EUNICE, pretty much my own way witli the gov, because he fancies I am delicate. I sub- sequently enlarged my Lilliputian stock of knowledge by some Latin and other de- sirable branches. As to French, I have been getting on lately like a house on fire ; •and acquired from such a source as ma belle mere, I flatter myself my accent is pure. And I am rather good at logic — I can arguefy. But Eunice will do you credit ; she is eager to cultivate her mind." '" Who is that Mr. Pyke they were talking of last evening ?" asked Mr. Harnage, irrelevantly. "" Oh I a low, stock-jobbing fellow, who never talks of anything but his dirty money. I can't imagine why the governor tolerates him." " Does he come here often, then ? *'Oftener than I like," said Lionel, shortly. EUNICE. 103 Precisely as the clock struck twelve Lady Grantley and her little boy, followed by Eunice, entered the room. Sir Peter hal hinted to his wife that she should act duenna during the hour of Miss Grantley's instruction. *You me forgive, sare, that I do bring mj leetle boy ; he vare docile ; he make no ncise — du tout, n'est-ce pas, Adrien V Adrian was busy crawlrug along the ft)or ; and comiug up behind his sister, pulled at her foot unexpectedly, and nearly ipset her. The little horror! Harold felt he could have strangled him. " Hor ! — hor !" he shouted, as his doting mother tried to raise him, saying, sooth- ingly— " Cela suffit ; va-t-en, va-t-en, Adrien." Eunice bore the assault with sweet equanimity, and quietly taking a seat opposite to Harold, proceeded to arrange I04 EUNICE. her gleanings from the Hbrary — Dante, readings from Italian prose literature, Petrarch, &c. " I am afraid these are rather advanced for you," said Mr. Harnage. " Do jou know much Itahan T I "A little; but I fear only a very Httle." 1 "It is a language that is easy ;o make way in at first ; but the difficulties increase as you proceed." \ " You are very discouraging," said she with a pout. ' \ " Persevere, and you will improve. Industry works miracles." " Industry — bah ! it is so colourless." " Here is something simple ; let me hear you read." " But I have done aU this before." " Never mind, I should like you to read it." EUNICE, 105 She tossed her head, offended at his per- sistence, or perhaps thinking his address too famihar ; but pride was useless ; for the time, he occupied the superior, she the in- ferior position ; nor was he disposed to waive his advantages. " I think you must come here," pointing to a seat by himself, *' if you have only one copy of the book." She hesitated as in dislike of the freedom, then finally com- pHed with sovereign unconcern. Eunice had a charming speaking voice, an excellent thing in women, one in con- stant use, and Harold thought the liquid language never sounded so well before. He liked to hear her pretty strivings at pronunciation, but mindful of his experi- ence of the morning was careful to keep his approbation out of his countenance. " Now let me hear if you can put these phrases into Itahan. That is not quite io6 EUNICE. right. You flounder in your tenses, and the pronouns are a little various — not in their places." "I shall not learn at all if you are so rude." " But I must tell you your faults," said he, bewildered by his new position and the hazel eyes playing bo-peep beneath the long dark lashes. " You will find not any of us like a reproof," said she, with an arch smile, and an utter disregard for grammar. " Now I am sure that is right, pronoun and all," laugh- ing a pretty rippling laugh, contagious in its merriment, and raising eyes that peeped like modest stars under fleecy clouds of hair to his. Harold began to feel a strange whirling in his head. "We ought to have an universal lan- guage," said Lionel " How is it possible to feel like men and brothers when one is EUNICE. 107 pulled up at every touch and turn by non comprenez." Lady Grantley sat by, her maternal at- tention absorbed by her child. To Harold's surprise, she knew no Italian, unusual igno- rance in a well educated Frenchwoman. Next came the arithmetic lesson, and before the " horrid figures," Miss Grant- ley's last vestige of hauteiu* vanished ; she became almost abject. Though a grown woman of nearly eighteen years, Eunice was a child still, and on small provocation would give way to childish mutations of tears and smiles ; a light thing would amuse, a small matter depress her. Like Leo, she was a sad dunce, but, unlike him, she felt shame of her shortcomings. Harold, concerned at her self-abasement, was at pains to make the crooked straight to her comprehension, which was certainly of the dullest in siuns. io8 EUNICE. By dint of much coaxing and imploring, backed by many threats delivered in an ex- traordinary jumble of English and French, Lady Grantley had dismissed Adrian to the nursery. Shrieks and bellows were now heard issuing therefrom. " Quelle tapage ! est-ce Adrian T ex- claimed her ladyship. " Inquire what for make such a noise." Eunice rose and hurried to the door. "Please, miss, Master Hadrian hev bin and gone and swallowed all missus' s com- plexion," said a shrill voice in the passage, "and we think he's pisoned hisself " Lionel laughed consumedly. " Don't alarm yourself, madame, bismuth is less harmful to the inside than to the outside." " You yourself amuse at me, sare," said my lady, furiously, as she rushed to her afflicted darling. CHAPTEE IX. A rosebud set with little wilful thorns, And sweet as English air could make her, she. WEEK — two weeks ^ passed. Harold Hamage was quite do- mesticated, and did not find it a dull life, though one day was very much like another in this quiet, regular, orderly family ; conscious of happiness, he did not seek to analyse the why or the wherefore, fearing to fright the welcome guest by a fatal questioning. Happiness is so deli- cate, so impalpable, that it is well to be content to let it float around us, inhahng peace and light with the air we breathe ; for so coy is this spirit of joy, once ask if she is ours, and she hides her rosy face no EUNICE. in mantle of gloomy doubts, and turns and flees ; attempt to reduce her to outward form, pursue her ever so eagerly, seek to handle her, and she dissolves beneath our grasp ; we must take her en passant in her humour or not at all Lessons went on very regularly. Mr. Hamaofe and Lionel breakfasted in the schoolroom alone ; then study all the morn- ino^, variegated for Harold, though not intermitted, by Miss Grantley's hour, when Lady Grantley, with commendable indus- try sat by stitching diligently as if her livelihood depended on her not losing a moment, and seldom lifting her heavy lids. If she found this attendance irksome, she did not show it ; she seemed too absolutely passionless to like or dishke any mortal thing. Miss Grantley meanwhile displayed much industry and caprice ; she and her EUNICE. Ill brother gave their instructor ample oppor- tunities of exercising the cardinal virtue, Patience. " He must be very good to be so patient," thought Eunice at times, in a fit of penitence. Harold was at in- finite pains to explain with clearness, and he did not treat her merely as a pupil, but with deference, and observed a re- spectful silence, which soothed her pride and won her favour. She was now used to him, and, absorbed in her subject, would look at him in entire absence of self-consciousness ; listening fi-ank and unconcerned as a child to his expla- nation of her difiiciilties as if he were some snuffy old professor. Often she addressed him in the language of con- descension, as to one whose services have been purchased ; and sometimes she gave him winning smiles — smiles that called into life ravishing dimples around the charming 112 EUNICE. moutli ; and not infrequently in a pet with him or Lionel or her studies, or attracted by some new object, she would rise hastily, close the book, and take her wilful self out of the room — no with your leave, nor by your leave, and quite regardless of the efiPect of her sudden departure on her master. " La petite paresseuse ! elle ne sait pas travailler," her stepmother would remark, philosophically ; and it was not for the tutor to resent shortcomings that passed unreproved in high places. "Most women have no characters at all" The poet doubtless intended this for praise. Women with characters are mostly the ne plus ultra of bores ; it suggests Gor- gons dire, bad-tempered, strong-minded bas bleues ; females who stand on their rights, and firight modest men from mating. EUNICE. 113 Eunice at tliis stage of her life had no character worth mentioning, she had not enjoyed the regular training which assists to form the article ; at least, it was not yet developed in her case, though proba- bly a grain of obstinacy and firmness lay hidden somewhere, out of sight, m the sunny depths of her young heart — a grain which only needed appropriate cultivation to flourish and grow into a large tree. To be sweet-tempered, pretty, and not an absolute fool is all the most exacting person expects from feminine eighteen ; and Eunice fulfilled these requirements handsomely. It was difficult to imagine any- thing more pure and dehcate, that more resembled a freshly blown flower : her beauty did not take by storm, it evolved itself gradually and gracefully like the leaves of an opening rosebud ; the more one gazed, the more one found to admire ; and VOL. I. 8 114 EUNICE. there was a grace and fascination of manner peculiarly her own, the half appealing, half retiring sweetness which is a blending of refinement and the secluded reserve of a young girl not yet out. And she was not only good-looking, but what is a much more valuable possession she looked good : she excelled in what Sterne happily calls " the small sweet courtesies of life," tender affectionate looks, little kind acts of attention, the gracious offspring of a generous sensibility which constitutes the sum total of woman's witchcraft simg and hymned by a thousand poets. Eunice was the sunbeam of the house, at every one's beck and call, to smooth the difficulties, soothe the ruffled, nurse the sick, and amalgamate the incongruous elements of Grantley ; from Sir Peter down to Rip she was indispensable to the comfort and well- doing of each member of the household. y EUNICE. 115 Nor were her ministrations confined to home ; outside the gates she was general almoner to the poor and afflicted ; there was not a trouble to which suffering humanity is heir, but " Miss Nicey " was sure to be the first summoned to the council for relief; she would undertake fortunes however desperate, and not stint her best endeavours in their behalf With the exception of the hour's lesson Mr. Hamage saw little of the busy young lady ; luncheon was an irregular meal at which she seldom appeared (he found that she went constantly to the rectory for music lessons) ; afternoon engagements, rides, and drives he of course took no part in. At dinner they always occupied the same places, Miss Grantley opposite to him ; he always thought of her as Miss Grantley at dinner, she was so shy and distant, she never glanced at ai d rarely addressed him. 8— :i ii6 EUNICE. He sat by Lionel : he began to look upon himself as a part of his pupil, so perse- veringly was he assigned to his society, morning, noon, and night, by a carefiil father's rules. Fortunately, he and Lionel got on well together. Harold now understood and pitied the poor lad, who, sensitive that his monstrous appearance separated him from the sympathies of his kind, was inclined often to be impatient and ireful : his un- failing kindness and forbearance had won on the boy, who already felt a real affection for his tutor. Sir Peter was pleased in his son's content ; and Lady Grantley in the distant manner peculiar to her, was quite his friend : even Rip sunk his mistrust, and had been bound over to keep the peace — i.e., to respect Mr. Harnage's legs. CHAPTER X. Heavens ! what thick darkness pervades the minds of men ! ADY VERSCHOYLE'S information proved correct. The legal orna- ment that Trenton dehghted to honour, with that quick circulation which exists between the benches of the House of Commons and the benches of the Law Courts, was to disappear from its admiring gaze. The clever, witty, agreeable Harry Bethune, would no longer shed lustre on the constituents whom his genius had re- deemed from their heretofore insignifi- cant luiknown position in their country's councils ; and Trenton figuratively wept briny tears to think that never more would ii8 EUNICE, their eyes be gladdened by a sight of those splendid whiskers, nor their ears be tickled by his consummate eloquence and tact. No longer would they pore with laudable pride over the flowing periods of their practised member, nor thrill in response to the thunders of denunciation with which their man demoHshed the flower of the Opposi- tion, making the very leader to quake in his pohtical boots. And so it came to pass that promotion was again open to the adventurous at Trenton, and swiftly a fresh shooting star appeared on the horizon. Pyke, the irre- pressible, perceived his hour was come. This individual had long had an eye to the seat, and it was mainly through the offices of their late rejected representative, Sir Peter Grantley, that he proposed to foist himself upon the constituency. That the proud old Baronet, whose genealogical tree EUNICE. 119 branched backwards until its lowest roots were lost in mythological thanes and earls, should constitute himself dry nurse to this vulgar, pushing, purse-proud promoter of doubtful companies and discreditable financial speculations, aroused the indignant wonder of the gentry of the county. There was more however behind the scenes than was dreamed of in their philosophy. If Sir Peter, instead of indulging his acrid feelings, had bided his time, the turn of the wheel would now have brought him in triumphantly. But — " the gods are just, and of our pleasant vices make instruments to scourge us." Indulgence in our evil passions mostly ends in our own extreme discomfiture. When Sir Peter, smarting under his political failure, in a fever of mortification and revenge became a turn- coat, he little dreamed that it would be an indirect means of drawing Pyke's deadly I20 EUNICE. attention ; that this apostasy of his princi- ples, in which his heart did not share, would help to fasten an incubus upon him, a mill- stone around his neck that would end in dragging him into an abyss of anxious misery. It chanced that a dispute, arising out of the election, jostled Sir Peter against Mr. Morell Pyke. To define Mr. Pyke s pro- fession is diJS&cult ; his connexion with the Stock Exchange had long been intimate ; yet he was not a stock-jobber, nor a stock- broker. In earlier and humbler times he was said mysteriously to be " something in the City ;" in these prosperous latter days, he was known to be a large financial operator, who, while keeping himself wisely as much as might be in the background, and out of the pubHc gaze, was thoroughly understood by the initiated to pull the strings (and pretty strongly) in many a EUNICE. daring enterprise, thereby not imfirequently making water to run down the backs of the unwary in a very shower bath of terror and despair. He was, in fact, though poor, simple Sir Peter did not recognise the wolf in his gay, lamb-Hke fleece, one of those dis- graces to humanity who make vampirism their trade — whose metier it is to prey in the dark on the vitals of their country. And now, gorged with his ill-gotten gains, and wishful to enjoy them, Pyke sought rehabilitation of his character, and aware that nothing is more effectual than to tack M.P. after your name (his was sufficiently black to require the strongest whitewash) this acute gentleman settled upon Sir Peter as the tool with which to work his desired end. Owner of a large property, somewhat encumbered, the Baronet exercised con- siderable influence over the voters ; while 122 EUNICE. the state of his pecuniary affairs laid him open to the wily tempter's schemes. Pyke was bold, cunning, and unscru- pulous. Sir Peter refined, unguarded, and confiding. It was an unequal conflict ; Pyke baited his hook and cast his line with the certainty of a bite. He discoursed of cables. Hues, mines, and other choice enterprises, where everything was to be reaped, and nothing ventured, until Sir Peter's dazzled vision saw in him only a magician who held the ofen sesame to untold wealth. His wife's influence also aided to draw him into the vortex of the Stock Exchange : dissatisfied with her boy's prospects, she lent a greedy ear to Pyke's golden imaginings ; and having listened to the charmer, Eve-like, she prevailed on her husband to hearken also. Sir Peter had no idea of the sink of iniquity into which he was plunging. EUNICE. 123 Financial schemes were mere words, that conveyed the vaguest notions to his hazy mind, and his Mentor took care not to let in too much daylight ; therefore were the victim's first tottering yet almost irre- trievable steps, taken in simple faith, in dehghtful unconsciousness of the wrong he was abetting with the powerful use of his name, of the widespread misery he was assisting to create. Sir Peter was a man who, with a good heart and unselfish disposition, seldom managed to do the right thing for himself, or for any one else : he was a sort of Don Quixote ; all that he said was perfect ; all that he did absurd ; his intentions were excellent, but his actions mad. Since he yielded to Pyke's fatal persuasion his deeds, from being tolerably innocuous, had taken on an active form of the complaint. The mania for speculation held him in its 124 EUNICE. grip ; he was the prey of " bears," the baited of "bulls ;" and whichever side had it, lie always lost. His last achievement was to fall neck and crop into the abyss of Pyke's latest pet—" Arethusa Mine." Well for him if he conld extricate himself from that lover-like embrace before the msatiate dame, strong of digestion, bolted the Grantley acres at a mouthful. ^^.5?^^..Js^^^^2 CHAPTER XL And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side. T will be plain to the inteUigent reader that Mr. Harold Harnage is on the high road to fall, or walk, or tumble head over ears in love with his bewitching pupil. Such is the deceit- fulness of the human heart, we incline to think that very early in his coming to Grantley it was a foregone conclusion with him that this very catastrophe would occur — a serious imputation to bring against our hero, who, though we claim for him to be no " monster of perfection," was a young man of fair and agreeable dispositions. To dissect his character, treat it phrenolo- gicaUy, we should' say — 126 EUNICE. Veneration — imperceptible. Caution — small Amativeness — ^large. Constancy — ^large. Ideality — enormous. This same bump of Ideality had made him a poet — had also induced him to become tutor to the deformed Lionel ; and on the discovery that a charming back- ground of romance existed at Grantley in shape of fair girlhood, it was not likely to influence him to resign his post. He cer- tainly indulged in this early stage no wicked design of dragging her into the cares of a hopeless love ; had he argued the point (which he did not) his plea would have been — first, that he had often been fascinated before, and had as often re- covered without lasting or ill results — secondly, that it was most unlikely Miss Grantley would ever waste a thought upon EUNICE. 127 him that could assist to pale that blooming cheek, or dim those lovely eyes. If any one were Hkely to suffer it was himself, and he was ready to chance it. Thus does j&^il humankind palter with the conscience, trusting to the chapter of accidents that it shall 'scape whipping. Instead of flying from temptation — had he done so the current of events would have been strongly diverted, and this moving love-tale had no birth — Harold infatuatedly congratulated himself on the prospect he had of enjoying much of her society, forgetting that it was a pleasure which might poison his Hfe. To be aware that one is in want of remedies is the first step towards cure; but so Httle contented him that he was imconscious of danger. First true love is patient, and in no haste to reach its goal, the hopes and fears and slow approaches satisfy. He took no 128 EUNICE. umbrage at her cold distant manner, varied in her discourteous moments by an abrupt- ness that verged on the rude ; he found consolation in the truth, that it is better to be undervalued than rated above one's due ; when she knew him better, he might hope to rise in her favour. "When she hears that I am the author of ' Sketches in Cor- sica,'" thought he, "to say nothing of my * Koses and Thorns,' she will have more respect for me." They had never even shaken hands ; evidently she did not ex- pect the advance. " Eunice ! this has been an afternoon of excitement," said Lionel, Hmpmg into the drawing-room, followed by his father, Lady Grantley, and Harold. " It has quite woke me up." "What is it? TeUme, Leo." " First we met Lady Verschoyle, and she formally asked father's leave for you to act at their theatricals." EUNICE. 129 " She has much want of a young mees, une ingenue," said Lady Grantley, play- fuUy; "mais " *'But me no buts," cried Eunice, irre- verently. " I must go. I have been look- ing forward to this — thinking of nothing else. You will let me go, darling ?" bound- ing to her father, and throwing her arms around him with the action of a graceful child. *' I never decide any matter hastily ; and I may thank that habit for not having to entertain useless regrets." (Oh, Sir Peter ! such is our fatuity, we constantly pride ourselves on our failings.) " Of course, if you have any real objec- tion I will give it up," said Eunice, rather crestfallen at her father's superior tone. Eunice's first care was, what would others like ; to please herself was an idea that rarely occurred to her. VOL. I. 9 I30 EUNICE. Harold's eyes darted approval, their agency, however, somewhat obscured by the gloaming. " There is an amount of display about girls' acting which is not to my taste ; but I scarcely know how to refuse our new neio^hbours, and on this one occasion I see no objection." " How dehghtful ! I am so glad !" de- positing a Hght kiss on her sire's high fore- head (Harold was startled to find how her expressions of pleasure jarred on him). "You shall see how well I can act." " Eubbish 1" said her father, testily. " But those people were so pressing they left me no loophole. You are to stay at Fairfields for rehearsals, and we are to drive over for the perfonnance." " I shall be strange there by myself," faltered the girL *' There are to be no end of fine people," EUNICE. 131 said Leo, kindly desirous to bolster up her courage. " The irresistible Lord Errington is to act the principal part, so take care of your heart." " Rather he must take care of liis," said Sir Peter, proudly. " Chi lo sa?" said she, gaily, and with an imperceptible glance at Harold. '* But Lord Errington is the Conservative candidate, and if we are to wield the cudgels for Mr. Pyke I shall suffer reflected odinm." Sir Peter grew very grave, and his long upper lip was drawn down to still longer lengtL " Mr. |Pyke is coming forward, and he has asked me to put him up here during the election. He brings his friend Mr. Fox Swefsey to help him in the canvass." " He is a comet that cannot shine with- out his attendant tail," remarked Eunice. 9—2 132 EUNICE. " He would describe a very large orbit before he found himself here if I had my will," said Lionel, scornfully. "I re- member Sweasey, an insidious creature, with pink eyes, which spite of their red- ness had plenty of cold calculation in them. He is always doing a sum, ' What's your price ?' He will have to do a good deal of buying and selling before he gets his prin- cipal in for Trenton. I don't beheve a low Rad like Pyke has a chance." " About what age is this Mr. Pyke ?" inquired Mr. Harnage, as he and Lionel strolled out into the garden. " Something under half a century," said Leo, carelessly. " Is he married T " In spite of his devotion to the fair sex, he has managed to keep that highest gift, his hand, still free and in his own posses- sion." EUNICE, 133 " A good-looking, gentlemanly fellow, I suppose ?" " Why, as for that, he is not absolutely repulsive JO %5ica%. I think he's jet-black morally. He's a red-hot RepubHcan, speaks lustily at Eeform meetings, denouncing the vices of the aristocracy. An inflammatory dog ! Pour moi, as ma belle mere would say, I have always a desire to make pie of his rascally visage ; his great hooked nose must have been made for the convenience of tweaking." " And who is Mr. Sweasey ?" " He was a Trenton attorney (his people live down there still), who deserted his desk to take to literature in London — reviews for the Fly-trap. " Oh ! prefers slashing authors to cutting up estates ; mighty bad taste. And his appearance 1" "Pale, dingy complexion, high cheek- 134 EUNICE, bones, and small ferrety eyes," said Leo, furnishing an inventory with an obliging candour. " A shocking chapter of natui^l history, by your account, Leo," said Hamage, who did not relish the coming of these visitors, though from the description that had tran- spired they did not threaten to prove dangerous animals in Harolds present particular view of beasts. " What carriage is that T cried LioneL '' By Jingo ! it's Pyke ! Talk of the gentle- man in black and you are sure to see his horns. Those eyebrows are unmistakable." CHAPTER XII. Then he will talk— ye Gods, how he will talk ! K PYKE, on receipt of private intelligence from his election agents, had judged it advisable to precipitate his attack on the borough. Posed on the hearthrug, this Narcissus of the City looked a splendid animal. Erect and strongly built, he was usually credited with more than his native six feet of clay. His eyebrows, which stood out long and bristling, a mixture of coarse black and white hairs, his imperial of iron grey hair, which he caressed frequently, and the large diamond ring worn aggressively on his fore- finger, were to Harold's first view his most 136 EUNICE. marked features. His ejes were small but keenly penetrating, his teeth large and white, and frequently displayed in an habitual smirk, reminding the admiring spectator involuntarily of a shark " ]VIr. Morell Pyke— Mr. Harnage," said Sir Peter, his voice depressed and sepul- chral as on the occasion of a funeral. " A gentleman who has kindly undertaken my son's education." Mr. Pyke dropped the coat-tails which force of habit was compelling him to lift and caress on either arm before the fireless grate, and grasped Harold's hand in both of his, being an adept in the two-handed cordiality which, costing nothing, often secures much. " This is a pleasure ! a son of my old friend Phil Harnage 1" It was a peculiarity of Pyke's that he knew every one. He was Cosmopolitan in EUNICE. 137 his acquaintances, his vices, and his schemes. Nothing was beyond his range. "Mr. Hamage — Mr. Sweasey." Mr. Fox Sweasey made an effective foil for his big, ruddy- complexioned friend, a weakly, knock-kneed little feUow, and so curiously attenuated one would imagine a tolerably persevering gust of wind would have no difficulty in puffing him to any required point of the compass. His pale and muddy skin, floatiag sandy locks and ragged whiskers, gave a sameness of colour, or rather want of colour. He looked such a harmless little man one would never have divined his crushing propensities and slash- ing pen. His attraction for his burly inti- mate was a mystery. In the paroxysm of confidential moments Pyke had been heard to say Sweasey was invaluable to him ; yet Pyke was no disciple of Apollo to require friendly puffs, his own entire Hterary genius 138 EUNICE. lying in that same direction, having its beginning and end in flaming and seductive prospectuses, in which a strong family like- ness was visible. Perhaps the bond of union consisted in Sweasey's being a good listener ; assurance is loquacious, and Pyke had always plenty to say : but he was talkative without being genial, familiar yet not gracious ; and his voice was harsh and grated on the ear, seeming to tell of rapacity and selfish insolence. In spite of this and other disadvantages, Pyke had fought a desperate single-handed battle with society and the world at large, had fought it bravely and, in his own opinion, most successfully ; there he stood at forty- seven, a fine man, a healthy rich and influential man, and, moreover, one who was about to canter into Parliament and respectabihty on poor Sir Peter's back. *^ I remember your father well ; a good- looking fellow, but gullible — (yes, I'll EUNICE. 139 trouble you for another slice, Grant ley ; I am rather sharp set). How he did get taken in by that submarine cable business ! It swamped him, for his candle was pro- digiously dipped before — ha ! ha !" His loud startling monosyllabic, ha ! ha ! ever at his service, Mr. Pyke never lacked applause. Sir Peter visibly saddened, and his heavy sigh was the only encouragement Mr. Pyke received to proceed with reminiscences Harold could well have foregone. " He had a doosid pretty Httle wife," smacking his lips in mingled appreciation of Roederer s champagne and the deceased Mrs. Harnage. "He understood the fair sex — ha ! ha ! Not a bad sort of know- ledge either, eh. Miss Eunice ?" Harold already found the man insuffer- able ; under the garb of friendliness he stabbed his pride and lacerated his sensi- bilities with every word. I40 EUNICE. " That uncle of yours is a handsome dog, and knows what he is about too — at least I used to think so. Can't understand his falling into trouble." " No blame attaches to him," said Sir Peter, warmly ; "no man could have acted more honourably." " Ah ! I don't attach importance to ex- cuses sought to be made for men who don't succeed. But it is a see-saw world — up and down ; some of us are doing well enough," said Pyke, thrusting his hands deep into his breeches pockets, an intima- tion that lie had thoroughly mastered the money question. " I jostled against Master E-alph the other day in the City ; his bank- ruptcy appears to agree with him." " My uncle's affairs will no doubt right themselves in time," said Harold, quietly ; "meanwhile I must thank you for your kind interest in them." EUNICE. 141 " Do you cherisli a hope that his creditors are defunct ?" said Pyke, becoming tart under a suspicion of irony. " A mistake ; duns never die.'' " And what for is a — what you call him — dun T asked Lady Grantley. " A dun, my lady, is a mixture of light and darkness, an insipid cross between saint and devil ; — not quite a roaring lion, nor yet sufficiently a sucking dove to forego his claims." "En effet, un homme qui fait tout son possible obtenir son argent," said her lady- ship, with a quick appreciation of Pyke's flowers of rhetoric that did her credit. " Et ils ont raison — what for they not to have their money T " Unfortunately fast men are not of your way of thinking." " Comment ? — fast men ? Sont-ils les viveurs — les tapageurs T 142 EUNICE. " Precisely ; viveurs, fast livers," said Pyke, wlio was apt to be liberal in his translations. " By-the-bye, I have seen something lately of a countryman of yours — from St. Lire, in Ardeche." " Your part of the world, Justine," said her husband, lifting his clouded brow. " Ah, yes," said his wife, carelessly. " This Mussher de Yaubong is, I suspect, somewhat of a viveur." " De Vauban ! — and from St. Lire ? — a relative of yours surely, my love," said Sir Peter, trying to throw off the depression caused by his noisy visitor. " We will ask him down to meet Mr. Pyke." Lady Grantley whitened to a ghastly pallor. " I — I — think not," she stammered ** Is he in London — encore ?" *' Eelative or no relative, you cannot see your compatriot at present ; he is gone back to France." EUNICE, 143 The lady smiled one of her rare smiles. "There have been dark spots in that woman's life," thought the shrewd Pyke, marking her relief ; he had, however, too many irons in the fire to trouble himself with speculations as to the obscure incidents in a passee Frenchwoman's existence. " So you are to be nominated at once," said Sir Peter, with a faint semblance of friendly interest. " Are you satisfied about your chances T " Quite ; with you to propose, and the ladies to second me, I consider the election safe," answered Pyke cheerfully, giving an especial bow to Miss Grantley — the palace rising on the Thames Embankment would soon only want a mistress for a finishing touch of grace and elegance, and he thought Eunice marvellously improved. " Those confounded fellows Boorer and Jewin have been at me — say I must be on the spot, 144 EUNICE. though Sweasey has been preparing the ground for some time ; sowing the good seed." " We are very pleased to have you here," laboured politeness and small satisfaction in his host's measured tones. " Thanks ; I like to be within easy reach of the constituency I mean to woo — ha ! ha ! Are my tactics false, Miss Eunice ?" " On the contrary, they are most prac- tical and therefore likely to be successful," repHed Miss Grantley, who was unusually silent spite the frequent notice Mr. Pyke bestowed upon her. " Are you not afraid of your opponent ? — he is an aboriginal of these parts." ** I am a citizen of the world, and flatter myself I can strike root anywhere. All you have to do is to vapour away about the labouring class — the wrongs of the working-man. Give a stab at the vitals of EUNICE. 145 nobility — a great point in my fav^onr that Errington has a handle to his name— a little personal invective comes in handy, gives a human colouring, and is sure to appeal to the hearts of the people. Then I shall touch up the grasping avarice of the landlords " " Thank you, Pyke," said Sir Peter, making a sickly effort to be arch, " No need to particularize," said that gentleman, airily ; " the more indefinite the finer the effect. In these days of house- hold suffrage, confine yourself to gaining the ear of the masses, and you'll do. I am a fluent fellow enough, only give me some- thing to discourse upon." Pyke's belief in himself was illimitable ; it was both instructive and amazing to contemplate an instance of such perfect and entire faith — a faith that knew not a flaw. VOL. I. 10 146 EUNICE. " The plan is to impeach everything, and stick to the watch word * Eeform ;' — Law Reform — Financial Eeform — Church Ee- form. My dear friend, only repeat the cuckoo cry ^Reform' often enough, and it will carry us through the wood, I stake my life on it." " Vive la Reforme !" interjected her lady- ship, with an energy that savoured of Communistic proclivities. Sir Peter shuddered. Nothing in his opinion could justify such a democratic tirade. And this was his protege ! — he was to stand sponsor before the county to this loud-voiced snob, this seething mass of vulgar audacity and omnipotent will ! The robustness of his tones and his blatant manner afflicted the Baronet even more than his matter ; it was not only his senti- ments but his way of expressing them that was so objectionable — ^impossible to remem- EUNICE, 147 ber refinement without a pang in the presence of such able-bodied coarseness. " I did not know you went so far," said Sir Peter, nervously. " You have become quite an Agitator." " Eh ! no, I'm not extreme ; I always go with the party who I intend shall butter my bread, and I make a point of sticking to my principles," said Pyke, with an un- blushing innocence bom of an entire absence of shame. " What's in a name ? The Liberal Conservative and the Conservative Liberal are becominof in fact such a oneness of unanimity that I expect to see announced shortly — Marriage extraordinary of the Daily PuJBf and Standing Squib, they having agreed to unite forces and flourish together in the bands of Hope — ha ! ha!'' " Ha ! ha !" echoed a wiry voice, which attracted general attention — a mixed voice, 10—2 148 EUNICE. suggestive of the pangs of a sickly fiddle, and terminating in a bass trombone. " It speaks. — Can I have pinched it, or touched a spring T thought Harnage, re- garding his neighbour's cadaverous face for the first time. Pyke s presence was all sufiicing ; he riveted and absorbed his company. *^ One must get up a cry on these occa- sions," said Pyke, yet further elated by his friend's mirthless laugh ; "it matters little what it is : the people are just like sheep unsusceptible of a change of their masters, sometimes bearing on their meek backs a G, at others a D. They worship as they are ordered, and " " True sign of devotion, always with their pockets turned inside out,' squeaked Mr. Sweasey, the string of whose eloquence was apparently about to be unloosed. CHAPTER XIII. What thou would'st highly, That would'st thou holily ; would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win. — Macbeth. K PYKE strode up and down the library with a heavy crunching step that disturbed his host's en- joyment of his Daily Nevjs, to judge from the half-exasperated, half-nervous glances shot from time to time over the friendly screen of paper. Mr. Pyke was averse to sitting ; seldom was he seen so quiescent except at meal times ; he was so strong on his legs he had no cause to favour them. John Morell Pyke from his youth had suffered from the caprice of god-parents, who in bestowing these cognomens consi- I50 EUNICE. dered they discharged all sponsorial duties. Sharing a weakness common to boys, he had a large appetite, and Jack Pyke was not long in acquiring the nickname of the ** Voracious Fish." Arrived at years of discretion, being a young fellow wise in his generation, he recognised the undesirability of starting in life with a bad name, and in the vain endeavour to combat his fate, he altogether dropped the objectionable Jack. Pyke might be coped with singly, and in this hope he perseveringly signed himself in the stateHness induced by a double- barrelled surname — Morell Pyke ! But his fertile enemies (he had ever a goodly crop) soon added a syllable which effectually dashed his serenity, the remnant of con- science he preserved telling him all too plainly that it was appropriate — (in the pursuit of his fortune he had not delayed to enter on a system of pillaging and men- EUNICE. 151 dacity perfect in its way). He was now known widely to friend and foe as /???moral Pyke — the Loose Fish — the Insatiable One ; like the Hydra of antiquity, as fast as one name was scotched others sprung up in its place. Mr. Morell Pyke looked a strong man — a prosperous man, and not an ill- favoured or an ill-dressed one, as he took his exercise up and down the room. Great characters are often inconsistent, and this demagogue was no exception : although cries of EquaHty and Fraternity with the humblest were on his lips, his practice was to wear the finest linen and priceless jewelled studs, to drive thoroughbred horses, and when inditing billets to his favourite ladies his monogram and crest in crimson and gold alone contented his vanity. When in pursuit of the shy par- tridge and nimble rabbit, his elegant form 152 EUNICE. was encased in tlie finest silk velvet, velve- teen not being to his taste, as apt to give forth a savour of the great unwashed. "Well! what is the programme for to- day T inquired Sir Peter. " Are you going to show yourself in the town T " Perhaps : but I want a little business talk first. By-the-bye, Grantley, I can put you up to a real good thing in the City. Take some * Smelts.' " " No, thank you ; I have no money to lose." " A first-rate concern ; that Australian copper is an A 1 article. The shares are below par, but they'll go up like a rocket presently." " And come down like the stick. I've had enough of that sort of thing. I am worried to death by this mine business. I wish to Heaven I had never heard of it ! If things don't take a turn — and they EUNICE. 153 seem about as bad as tbey can be — I don't know what I shall do." And he wrung his hands, the image of woe, while Pyke pro- ceeded to dangle the Damocletian sword of insolvency over the Baronet's walls of snowy hair ; had they not been already bleached, the discipHne of this adept in financial torture would have speedily ac- comphshed the work. Sir Peter had fallen on evil days : a well- meaning, courteous gentleman, but credu- lous as a child, impetuous as a woman, he had pitted his unsuspecting innocence against this gladiator of the Stock Ex- change, and his ruin was a mathematical certainty. This burly plebeian was the last man he would have chosen for his poh- tical protege : unfortunately Pyke, with the practical foresight that distinguished him, had arranged for this peculiarity of selec- tion by choosing him. For the last two 154 EUNICE. years he had cunningly drawn Sir Peter into several money ventures, alluring him with gains and then enclosing him still more securely in the net of misfortimes and losses. He had sHmed his victim with promises and lies, and sucked him down into the whirlpool of speculation, and tight- ened his hold imtil his prey could only breathe at the pleasure of his captor ; he might writhe, but his very contortions only showed him that Pyke held the means of squeezing his very life blood. Sir Peter's was a hard case : every feeling of his inmost soul, every prejudice of his birth and education rose in revolt of Pyke and his pretensions. Yet now, when his ventures promised the worst results, when — unless affairs assumed a brighter aspect — ^he was almost ruined, he dared not oppose the only man who could help his straits : self-interest overmastered all other EUNICE. 155 considerations, and he presented the piti- able spectacle of a man forced to dance at another's will — a puppet, who played when this vulgar parvenu pulled the string ; but he felt none the less hostile because he was impotent ; his rage though suppressed was none the less deep. Pyke meant business : the time had ar- rived to claim Sir Peter's offices, and he brought no feeble arm to the work ; means must be used to force this unfortunate — who secretly clung to a creed which he had found it convenient to abandon — to sup- port him to the best of his power. ''It means worse than death — exposure, and humiliation," said Sir Peter, in the broken tones that tell deep suffering. " Don't be down-hearted, Grantley," said Pyke, contemptuous sympathy on his face, and slapping his host's shoulder with a force and familiarity that made that gentle- 156 EUNICE. man shudder, and extorted various peevish exclamations against fate, Pyke, his own foUy. " How could the beggar expect to get thirty per cent, for his money, and perfect safety ? the thing is ridiculous !" muttered Pyke, checking an impulse of pity — (this was not the time to relax the disciphne he had striven hard to establish). " The man's a fool, and he must bear the consequences ofhisfoUy." It was necessary that Sir Peter should be sacrificed, yet Pyke felt a glow of vir- tuous indignation against his victun for his gullibility. Pyke was not a veritable fiend who de- Hghted in harming his fellow creatures for the mere sake of mischief; he was not cruel by temperament — a redeeming trait in a character which had no such hneaments to spare : unhappily, he had exceptional EUNICE. 157 oppoi'tiinities of being false to his neigh- bours, and when it became a matter of cal- culation — his interests or theirs — it was the nature of the individual to betray them. It did not rejoice him that his road to success should be paved by ruin ; but it was merely a matter of detail, and playing for the important stakes — Pyke's fortime, the small necessarily yielded to the large consideration. " Great is the victory that costs no blood" — not even Pyke could aspire to such unlimited grandeiu*. " There ! cheer up, Grantley," said Pyke, impatient of his companion s despon- dent state. " The mine is not dead yet ; or if it is, which I don't admit, it is felo de se, and no one can be had up for the catastrophe. I have used my influence to the uttermost to keep the thing going." " Used it to make a beggar of me," said the ancient Faust, with a gleam of spirit. 158 EUNICE. "You speak bitterly and unjustly, my friend. This business was your own seek- ing entirely. Now, did you go into it to please me ?" asked Mephistopheles, with a maddening air of candour. " Didn't I warn you that it might not turn up trumps V (Pyke could always veneer his shabby actions with skilful falsehoods.) " What is the use of our quarrelling ? Will it mend matters \ If things have not gone as well as we could wish, it is not my fault." It was an aggravation of Sir Peter's sorrows that there was no scapegoat ; he dared not reflect openly on Pyke, he could only execrate his own fatuity — ever a pain- fiil proceeding. " I can't sleep — I can't eat," said the poor man, despairingly. " Oh ! I have murdered your digestion now, have I ? Don't take so gloomy a EUNICE. 159 view, man ; we'll rig the market yet, force them up, and get the stock absorbed." " But the water is coming into the mine by tuns," gasped the victim of chimeras, the sorrowful plaything of circumstance and Pyke. " What's to be done ?" " Nothing. It doesn't signify if an earth- quake swallows the whole precious place up." " I had better sell, it will snatch some- thing from the burning," said Sir Peter, with a suspicious catching of the breath, that interfered with his efforts to preserve dignity in misfortune. " No, dorit sell — don^t sell, my dear fellow, you'll give them away — you'll help the bears. Better stand by, and let the bulls and bears give battle ; your case can't be made worse," said Pyke, so buoyantly it would have made a brighter mind suspect that he was no longer a shareholder. i6o EUNICE. " Yes, it is about as bad as it can be," said the Baronet, exhibiting yet more visi- ble symptoms of collapse. " A little off the rails," said Pyke, grow- ing, if possible, still more jovial and pro- sperous in face of the awful depths of in- capacity revealed by his friend for ma- naging his affairs. "But we'll shift the switches. A man of resource is never done ; we have another card to play." " What is it r '* Fusion — we must amalgamate the con- cern with another company. Let s see — they are making a hne to Kerah. It will be necessary to start a branch to carry away the enormous proceeds that the *Arethusa Mine' promises to yield. It sounds inviting and safe ; it will be a coup, my dear sir — only leave it to me. I'll undertake to launch it. What dp you say?" EUNICE. i6i " That it is ridiculously improbable." " The more improbable the better ; to keep up an air-ball, it must contain no- thing more solid than air. I have not catered for the public palate for twenty years without discovering what suits it : you can't be too improbable, or colour too highly. Only leave it to me," reiterated the dauntless Pyke ; "I'll float it ; as that clever chap says somewhere, 'it is engendered,' " tapping his forehead. Sir Peter knew the context, and he shuddered ; his conscience smote him — but feebly; he was so sorry for himself, that he had little sympathy to spare for others' woes. " Be quiet as a mouse, keep your own counsel about the mine, and we will get a company together in no time," said Mephistopheles, becoming more enthusi- astic ; " there's that town near — Inops is VOL. I. 11 i62 EUNICE. crying aloud for a railway ; and is proper ambition to be thwarted? Let us help them towards improvement, by all means. I daresay you can get at Barton and old Fremantle, and one or two others ; they will become directors to protect their in- terests. We must have a few moneyed names. Don't stand hesitating on the brink, man ; take a bold plunge, and my word for it there will be an end of the cold shivers. The only chance is to bring out a new thing to distract the attention from the failure of the old. Why hesitate ? You have evervthing to gain, and nothing to lose." It was scarcely polite to put his host's possessions at such a very low ebb, but Sir Peter, immersed in painful calculation, did not heed the words. " I'll guarantee its success ; it will recoup all our losses — only say the word." EUNICE. 163 " The most virtuous man," says Mon- taigne, " would ten times at least in the course of his life be considered a fit subject for the gallows, were he to submit all his thoughts and actions to the rigid scrutiny of the laws of his country. " Pyke had never before so completely dropped the mask ; and his present candour only added to Sir Peter's miseries, who had not intended any dishonesty ; he had done a little business on the Stock Ex- change in a fair enterprising gentlemanly spirit, and had been cruelly plucked for his pains. A sense of injury boiled in his elderly breast against these unknown robbers : he would like them to suffer in their turn. But would retribution fall on the real offenders \ He feared not ; and the prospective wails and curses of the widow and orphan already knelled in his ears. 11—2 i64 EUNICE. The fraud was so gigantic that its size somewhat veiled its hideousness. If an undertaking be on a large scale it gives it no mean element of respectability. Persons who would start with mdignant horror at the notion of robbing one of a sixpence, see no harm in being a prime mover in an enormous swindle, that is safe to ruin hundreds and injure thousands. Sir Peter's high forehead was beaded with agony as again prosperity and affluence shed their delusive rays, and his broad acres were covered with gold pieces by his lively imagiQation. At threescore years, however, if a man is not an absolute fool, or an unmitigated knave, the chances are he knows what is right and what is wrong, and when he chooses the latter he does it deliberately, with malice aforethought. Our would-be worthy Baronet was not prepared to make total shipwreck of his EUNICE. 165 best hopes ; he would yet o^vn personal integrity. He had become a director of the mine in good faith, and his enemies could not deny that he had backed the concern heavily with his own money, wliich he had lost. If losing money in support of one's bona fide opinion is immoral, then the world is more honest than is usually supposed. " We wHl work the market, draw them on famously ; only give the word," re- peated the tempter. " No ; I will have nothing to do with it," said Sir Peter, firmly. " I may be an ass, but I will not be a villain knowingly." Pyke whistled in the extremity of his surprise. " Suffering in a violent form from the disease of wrong-doing," thought he. " Never mind ; he'll take a turn soon — actum ne aofas — I shall leave it to work." i66 EUNICE. "I'll stand by my losses ; I will go no further. Help me out of this business as well as you can, Pyke," stiU clinging in his despair to the deceiver ; and inwardly he groaned, " Why, oh why, has mother earth so betrayed the trust her credulous son had put in her hard-hearted bowels ?" CHAPTER XIV. Fresli clad from heaven in robes of white, A young probationer of light, Thou wert, my soul, an angel bright. LEEADY Harold Harnage hated Pyke, and would have done much to quarrel with him — an active state of feeling after one evening's acquaintance, probably induced by Miss Grantley's quiet reception of the great financier's favours. He congratulated him- self that this objectionable visitor could not well follow his pupil into the schoolroom. "You are done up, my boy," said Harold kindly, observing Lionel's pale, drawn look. " It is a good deal past your sister's hour ; is she not coming ?" 1 68 EUNICE. " I will go and fetch her," said Leo, readily. ''These fellows here are taking up her time ; but I'll tell her you are waiting." " Perhaps — she does — not wish to come." '' She must not give up her lessons. Bless you, she likes them (which is more than I do," he added, sotto voce). " You may go to Miss Grantley," said Harold, with an assumption of indifference ; there can be no objection to asking if she wishes for a lesson." " I should think not ! girls never have anything to do. Besides, she always does as I like ; it is a part of my method that sisters shall be under orders." Presently Lionel returned with the defaulter; and the gloomy doubts that were crowding upon Harold thick and fast dispersed as if by magic in the sunshine of EUNICE. 169 her smile. She had grown used to him, and exhibited in schooltime a frankness and unconstraint very dangerous to the young man's peace ; her fits of caprice and coldness, certain forms and restrictions that hedged her in from him making her appear more precious and doubly sweet. ^* Why were you going to mitch, Eunice ?" asked Leo, severely. " I — I — don't know. Lady Grantley is busy, and I was watching Mr. Sweasey reviewing a novel. He confessed, in con- fidence, he was writing the critique without having more than glanced at the book." *' Too bad," said Harold, "to enjoy the sweetmeat without having first swallowed the medicine. Damnant quod nesciunt, eh, Lionel ?" " Damn what 1" said Leo, innocently. "It would be very easy for you to I70 EUNICE. practise tlie art," said Mr. Hamage, good- humouredlj. " Now give me plenty to do, Mr. Hamage. I am in the humour to be industrious, to make up for lost time." Good as her word, she puzzled over her tasks, which he was at infinite pains to make her comprehend, and be sure he took care she should not be overworked. And how could he help looking at the wrapt little student ? His duty demanded a certain amount of eye vigilance, which, to do him justice, he was ready to render. She constantly claimed his assistance, particularly with " those horrid sums," the " cross, crooked things that would not come right." With manly taste he preferred the figures, for, once involved in them, Eunice was never inde- pendent ; arithmetic depressed her, and she was fain to take refuge in his firiendly help. EUNICE. 171 The next morning Harold saw Eunice depart in the open carriage at noon — the lesson hour — seated opposite to her father and Lady Grantley, Mr. Pyke by her side, bending over her in fussy sohci- tude. Harold was not given to swearing, but an oath escaped him at the sight. He should have borne it more patiently ; it was only the beginning of a train of crosses. He could no longer resist enlightenment as to the real state of the case ; he was on the verge of a hopeless attachment ; a little more and he would tumble over the abyss — i. e. , having made an ass of himself, he would get found out and be ignominiously expelled from this newly discovered paradise. He saw his danger, and yet to use the only real cure and leave Grantley at once, was an instance of heroic courage which he never thought of practising. In truth it was all over with him when he began this 172 EUNICE. inquisition, his heart irretrievably lost, caught in the meshes of a fair young face that wore perpetual blushes, and held fast by an eager, natural voice that sounded honest. " How speeds your wooing of the con- stituency ?" asked Sir Peter of his guest. " Passing well, though egad ! I perceive the process will prove a costly one. Pe- moved as they are from the modem Baby- lon, there is not much country simphcity about the inhabitants here. I asked your undertaker who he meant to vote for, and he replied unblushingly, that as I did not want anything in Ms line, he did not feel himself called upon to answer my question. I responded to the challenge by ordering a coffin, and it is to be sent home stuffed with hams and other delicacies that I purchased of a too practical cheesemonger. If the rascals don't vote for me they deserve to EUNICE. 173 be made to eat the bacon and occupy the coffin. " " Ha ! ha ! By St. George you are a bold man ! You will have the elec- tion judges down upon you.' *' I will take my chance. Electoral offences are soon forgiven, and easily wdped out of the memory ; you have only to cap prohibition by invention, and the thing is done." The law had no terrors for Pyke. He had triumphed so often and with such impunity in his nefarious and illicit pro- ceedings, that he regarded the law as a bogy only intended to scare the weak and childish section of mankind. *' The greater number of voters have no particular bias, and they must be pitch- forked into the right way — ha ! ha ! — for their own good — for their own good^'' re- peated Pyke, with unctuous emphasis. 174 EUNICE. " I don't think it is right,'' said Sir Peter, in weary disgust. "A fight conducted fairly and pluckily brings as much glory to the vanquished as to the victor." " Can't agree with you. What does that chap say in the play ? — * never say fail! I wont admit the word * fail' to my dic- tionary." "And your principles — do they go for nothing ? I thought you were ambitious to be a patriot '{'' ''Patriotism ! another term for exceeding regard for our personal interests ; a capital password. Most men's politics sit loosely on them, patriots among the number." Sir Peter winced. Pyke was so able-bodied, physically and morally, he overbore his feeble host. Bri- bery was utterly opposed to Sir Peter's principles, but he ceased to protest, know- ing that if he stood up it was only to be EUNICE. 175 bowled over like a ninepin by this man of strong ideas and strong language. " I mean to give them plenty to eat and to drink. You must feed your men well. The better and stronger the Liquor the better they will come out at the poll — ha ! ha ! A quick thing on the flat that off mare of yours, Grantley. What will you take for her?" " She is not for sale," said the Baronet, stiffly. Pyke vexed his soul. " No offence," said the other, airily. "Miss Grantley, I hope you will come again to-morrow and give your valuable assistance to the good cause. You must wear my colours ; you will win all hearts." Pyke was wont to veil the low esteem in which he held all women by a hard rouge of exaggerated compliment. " In — in — the afternoon," said Eunice. " I have my morning lessons to do." 176 EUNICE. ^^ Morning, notvnih. an 2^," laughed Pyke, with the ever recurring " ha ! ha !" and a nod towards Harold who, he thought, was just the handsome, melancholy sort of Jaques that romantic girls are sure to affect. She turned her back pettishly on them, only Harold saw her blush, and he flushed in sympathy, while a strange dehcious thrill ran through him. "Nonsense, Eunice," said her father sharply ; " lessons are all very well when there is nothing else to do, but I wish you to help our friend. Lionel can benefit by Mr. Harnage's extra attention." "I am afraid you do not approve of my principles. Miss Eunice," said Pyke. " Everything is fair at election time. Let me give you a lesson in the art of canvass- ing. The most infaUible prescription for pleasing is to discover of what talents or acquirements your subject is desirous to be EUNICE. 177 thought the possessor. Having discovered the hobby of the man you wish to please, it is plain sailing ; you have only to canter into his favour, and his vote on its back." ''Thanks for giving me the benefit of your valuable experience," said Miss Grant- ley demurely. Harold wondered at her patience — that she could tolerate this monster. Pyke provoked men more than he did women by his matchless impudence. " A lie serves but once, and hinders ever after," is a true broad rule that clearly does not apply to plutocrats. In their case it is swallowed up in another and most effec- tive aphorism — Nothing succeeds like suc- cess. Pyke was one gigantic incarnate lie ; he did not appreciate what the word in- tegrity meant ; it had no signification for his distorted mind ; yet the incapacity to understand this greatest virtue — Truth, VOL. L 12 178 EUNICE. had not stood in his Hght. In a systematic course of mendacity, he had acquired all his wealth, all his notoriety, all his triumphs : the rich harvest reaped from the creduhty of his fellow creatures had been the product of unlimited barefaced lying in thought and speech, culminating in action and success. CHAPTER XV. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together ; our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. AROLD HAENAGE held whole- some opinions on most subjects, but he had his weaknesses, and love is an ancient, ever-recurring epidemic which will insist upon reaping its crop of follies and errors from every human heart. A fig for the heart too barren to bear one ! it must be an organ infinitesimally small, not worth mentioning. Our good or evil qualities are developed pretty much accord- ing to the powerful moulding of circum- stances, for the difference between the best and worst men is not so great as people 12—2 i8o EUNICE, generally suppose. The best frequently fall and are frill of faults, while the worst have their good points and sometimes shame their betters. " Behind the cross stands the devil. Where God has his church, the devil will have his chapel." A fiery time of temptation had fallen upon Harold, and how did he bear it ? He disregarded aU that he should have remembered — the trust reposed in him, his own subordinate position. The tranquil depths of a tender disposition had hitherto been unruffled by the breath of passion ; his studies and athletic sports, with hte- rary endeavours to furnish his leisure hours, had frilly employed him ; and now awakened to the charm of the love he had only treated theoretically, he was entranced by feelings altogether new to him. He saw nothing, cared for nothing but her presence, and felt, without reason- EUNICE, i8i ing upon it, in that delicious dream it was his fate to live — or else to bear no Hfe. Harold sat in the schoolroom alone ; he liked the dingy apartment, its shabby green-baized table and hard horse-hair chairs. He had seen Eunice drive off as before, but found comfort in the recollec- tion that she had made an effort to come to him ; he was not quite forsaken for this brawhng robust Croesus. In this quiet hour he fully recognised his peril. Of course she would never care for him ! — high-born, charming, and beautiful, with hair and eyes that would enamour the angels, she had the world before her to choose her flowery path as she Hsted. How unlikely that she would ever stoop to him and his blank prospects ! Mutual poverty — their only point of equality — made an impassable gulf between them ; he could neither go to her, nor could 1 82 EUNICE. she come to him. Thus far his com- munings betokened some remains of sanity ; then came alarming symptoms of unreason. " Credula res amor est" — a man in love is ready to beHeve any or everything that flatters and encourages his passion. If he saw more of her he might be disenchanted ; voluntary exile was useless, inconvenient, and unnecessary — and impossible (but he did not confess to the latter impediment). As well snatch the happiness of being with her, and bear the afterpain of separation, when it came, as best he might ; the mis- chief, as far as he was concerned, was done, therefore why not enjoy the present, the glorious to-day, which alone is or ever can be ours ? His involimtary admiration could not offend ; it could make no diffe- rence to her whether he stayed or not. These sophisms made a perch on which his conscience, already heavy with the EUNICE. 183 sense of concealment, rested awhile ; and when travelling love's stages, he soon began to long for a return of his affection ; he regarded it as an idle, silly longing that he could not prevent, but which would never be gratified ; yet all the same he did his best to make her love him. From this time Eunice exercised complete fascination over him ; he loved her even for her pettish ways, unprovoked and naughty as they often were. He did not analyse her per- fections or her faults, but took her into his heart as she was ; enough for him that she had aroused his first deep-felt ten- derness. Meanwhile Pyke oaily reeled over the whole gamut of political opinions : a coarse fluency and vehemency were winning his way to popularity. " The over- taxed sub- ject" — "the groaning poor" — "his country's liberty," were in turns inspiring matter for 1 84 EUNICE. his blatant discourses, which were stirring the sleepy pulses and rousing the feeble sympathies of the Trentonians, until their state of mind was absolutely turgid, and the polling-day was anxiously expected by friend and foe to give the excitement room for subsiding. Mr. Fox Sweasey troubled Grantley little with his company ; he was mostly in the town, burrowing his way into votes that should have been securely locked from his grasp. Harold had contracted a positive and Hvely hatred for the Liberal candidate and his set " ha ! ha !" The young man found it difficult to endure his jeering half-insolent tone ; while his pretended friendship for Ralph Harnage formed only a cloak for insults, so frequent were his allusions to his uncle's bankruptcy; on the same principle that dictated the placing of a skull on the festive board of the Eastern monarch, EUNICE. 185 Harold was not to be allowed to forget his poverty and dependence. The word bankrupt had a fascination for Pyke, probably because it comprised all he could conceive of enormity ; — the one fail- ing he could not overlook was — poverty. The self-sufficiency of the purse-proud is the most odious form pride can take. The pride of birth, beauty, accomplishments, of intellect, are all allied to a certain amount of sensitiveness about the opinion of others, which keeps them within bounds ; though often ridiculous, it does not preclude good breeding. But the pride of riches in- variably goes hand-in-hand with coarseness and vulgarity ; the self-gratulatory milho- naire, wherever he may be, conceives him- self the object of envy, however superior the company in rank or talents. He has cause : wealth commands universal respect. One great secret of its influence is that it i86 EUNICE. can be borrowed and used, while birtli or talents remain inalienably with their legitimate proprietor. Many had borne with Pyke's insolence, like poor Sir Peter, in the devout hope of profiting by their mean policy. They had reaped little but unsubstantial hopes for their pains. His good temper proved another pitfall for his victims, for misled by his apparent bonhomie and frank speaking, they discovered too late what his seeming good nature was worth. Good temper and good nature are qualities often mistaken for each other, while in reality they are essentially different ; — one is a matter of temperament (or rather of digestion), the other a question of heart. Pyke had no difficulty in preserving his temper under what would prove trying circumstances to most men ; he owed this power partly to his moral invulnerability ; EUNICE. 187 arrows of sarcasm glanced off him unheeded that would have annihilated a man less pachydermatous. As for heart, if he possessed such an article, he certainly never allowed its promptings to interfere with business. He was a clever fellow — a deuced clever fellow many of his intimates had said of him emphatically, hefore their friendship had been violently ruptured by unbearable money reverses — after which catastrophe, another, and more superlative adjective, not infrequently supplemented and more strongly qualified his ability. And yet Pyke was a poor creature, a narrow-minded ill-educated man ; his mental horizon bounded by the ruling passions of money- making and self-advancement. CHAPTER XVI. None without hope e'er loved the brightest fair, But love can hope where reason would despair. lONEL had gone out with his father driving, and Mr. Harnage, left to his own devices, was en- joying a quiet walk and the undisturbed exercise of his own thoughts — aimless dreamings and reveries were all he was fit for. He was partly happy, more than half miserable, and sadly idle. He knew very well what ailed him — that he was love-sick, and that the only remedy was flight ; but the idea of exile was more than ever fraught with too much pain to give it entrance. The quiet life he was leading, teaching a boy whose attainments laid no EUNICE. 189 strain on his own powers ; the absence of home ties, combined with a natural dis- position to be loving and constant, all made him dominated by this one passion. He had begun a novel on coming to Grantley, and got on bravely at first — then, as he grew more absorbed in Eunice, she became the unconscious Delilah to turn him from the pursuit of book making. He could not banish her ; she would flit across every other page, distracting his attention, blot- ting and obscuring every image but that one which for him bore such enchanting grace. Harold was smoking — a pleasure he now rarely afibrded himself Good cigars are luxuries, and he had been brought up too long in a school regardless of expense to be able to smoke bad ones. He was sauntering in the park, pondering that same question — expense. Ways and means, how two people could possibly live together 190 EUNICE. on next to nothing was becoming a constant proposition with him, but one which even his knowledge of Euclid would not make easy of solution. He was more in love every day; and daily as he wished to draw nearer she receded from his mental vision. How could he dare to ask her for his wife ! — he with absolutely nothing to offer ! — while she was rich in everything but this world's dross. Something, perhaps man s vanity, told him that he would not plead in vain had he a tolerable position, a competence such as any parent would demand for his child. Oh, that these stones, these bram- bles and nettles, which grew so readily, defacing the fair land, and making it barren, could become bread ! Money ! money ! the cry that goes up hourly from the Hps of thousands and millions of human beings — money, the source of all good — EUNICE. 191 and yet how lie loathed it, though at the same time longing for its possession, for was it not the only means by which to gain her ? — his pretty innocent darhng ! who had not a thought of this slavish gold except to use it for the relief of distress and poverty. He wanted to give her something. The wish that she should wear something of his had become a monomania. She had no watch ; how he would like to supply the deficiency ; to get the daintiest little time- piece and chain in London, and hang it round her neck, taking just one yielded kiss in payment. He grew hot and thrilled at the picture his imagination had drawn. It is strange this impulse all lords of the creation experience, when in love, to make gifts. Is it an instinct to purchase the good graces of their beloveds ? If so, it is an error, and they do not understand 192 EUNICE. women's hearts. No girl whose love is worth having could be influenced by any amount of offerings, however costly ; rather she would revolt at the imphed buying of what is unpurchasable— the heart's true affection. As we said before, it was a good cigar, a i^ery good cigar ; and as Harold puffed and puffed, misgivings faded, even as the thin blue circles dissolved and were lost in the air ; his mind framing itself into a mockery of his actual condition — living Hes, unreal realities. " Wedlock's an ill men eagerly embrace," directly their especial time of temptation arrives. His Alnaschar-like visions had reached the point of himself and Eunice partaking of a mutton bone with infinite relish in a third floor attic in London (she had been unusually amenable at her lesson that morning or he could not have thought of her so familiarly), the EUNICE, 193 expenses of the same to be defrayed by a clerkship in the City, obtained through his uncle's influence, when he caught sight of a figure, and his pulse quickened as it had taken to doing lately at sight of a bit of white no larger than a Maltese dog (Miss Grantley mostly wore white). He had begun to see her everywhere — even where she was not. On this occasion his imagi- nation did not deceive him, it was the object of his afternoon's meditation. The park, large and undulating, with clumps of trees, oaks of stately growth and fine old beeches, was divided by a river that meandered like a silver thread through its verdure. The only occupants of this division, nearest to the house, were some cows, for the grand old days when herds of deer had made it their home were departed ; all was now sacrificed to the useful and what paid best. A ha-ha, also VOL. I. 13 194 EUNICE. a relic of tlie past, skirted the park between it and the grounds immediately surrounding the house. Harold was bending his steps towards a gate on his way home, and he felt sure that Eunice also intended to come to the same point, as the most convenient and direct. His heart began to thump violently : he would walk with her a little way ; they would be alone together — a treat, for he had never a chance of saying anything to her that might not be over- heard by Lionel's sharp ears. But as usual with self-gratulations, his were premature. She had become aware of his presence — perhaps had seen him turn his head, and perceived that his steps lagged and grew slow for her approach. A spirit of per- versity awoke within her, and turning off to the left, she made for a gate in that EUNICE. 195 direction ; it would make her walk longer, but the provoking girl cared not for that. He immediately became sensible of her cruelty, and as she flitted away, he stood watching her sHght figure in a not enviable frame of mind. He felt deeply mortified at this pointed avoidance. Did she abso- lutely dishke him ? He really believed it, for your true lover is ever humble. He began to regret the half-smoked cigar, so recklessly discarded in the anticipation of her society ; it might have assisted him to regain his philosophy under this decided snub. Rip, who generally transferred his alle- giance to Eunice in Lionel's absence, pranced proudly at her side as she pursued her contrary way : it took her past some seven or eight cows, which were lying down, contentedly chewing the cud of a perpetual feast. Among these cows was a 13—2 196 EUNICE. bull, who had had his home in the park for more than two years, and during that period had justified the peaceful character he received from the farmer, when Sir Peter, for a consideration, had allowed the formidable animal an entrance. He was deemed quiet as an old cow, and fears that were at first entertained were gradually laid aside ; all at the house came and went with safety and impunity, passing often under the very nose of the creature. Now Eunice was a coward in many respects, and one of her weaknesses was a dread of this bull. She had vehemently protested against his admittance, and ever described large circles in her wish to avoid him. It was certainly not flattering to Mr. Hamage that she preferred even Snowball's society. The animals were lying down in the direct line of the gate she must reach, and she diverged out of her EUNICE, 197 way in the desire to give them a wide berth. Rip apparently did not share her views, and was now considerably in front, quite close to the cows, advancino^ in little runs and hops, and sometimes half flying. Whether Rip's mode of progression was irritating to his nerves, or whether he divined and resented Eunice's avoidance, and not long suffering as was poor Harold, angry the bull certainly became. He sud- denly started to his feet, giving at the same moment an ominous bellow. Down went his head, and up went his tail in the air, as he plunged through the placid animals that surrounded him, and made straight to- wards the raven, who unconcernedly con- tinued his prancing, flying movements. Eunice, who, when in the same park, con- stantly eyed the object of her distrust, had not lost a movement of the enemy. 198 EUNICE. Snowball was between her and the gate, and, like lightning, she turned at once, run- ning terrified towards Harold, who had seen her danger, and flew to meet her. In a few moments, that to the actors seemed ages, he reached Eunice, and seized her hand. It was time, for her peril was imminent. The bird had followed her retreat, and consequently drawn the bull's notice to higher game. He was now rushing after the girl with head almost kissing the ground, then thrown aloft, giving bellows too significant of anger and mischief not to strike dismay into the stoutest heart. *' It is coming !" she gasped. " No, no ; you are safe ; trust to me." And grasping her hand, without the loss of a moment he went to the right, running quickly. The bull paused. In the man- oeuvre he lost sight of his prey, but only for a few moments, then, righting his course, EUNICE. 199 he again bore down upon them. Eunice's hand, waim with the heat of fear, clung to Harold's with a desperate hold. They ran quickly ; both were light and active, but they were still some distance from a third gate, and he feared her strength would not last- — that the animal would be upon them before they could reach it. " Go on," said he authoritatively, and loosing her hand. " Run for your life to the gate." She obeyed, while he stood quite still, facing the infuriated animal. His firm attitude seemed to check its advance ; it was scarcely twenty yards off. Harold's courage rose ; he walked forward a few paces, hoping to intimidate the animal by showing a bold front, taking off his coat as he went ; but the bull, shaking off his momentary hesitation, with another roar went plunging to meet him. Harold 200 EUNICE. saw that Eunice had reached the gate — she was safe ! A sheep-dog belonging to the farm was close to her, and had just leapt the hedge. Harold whistled, "Hi! good dog! at him, Trusty." The dog bounded forward, then seeing the work that was required of him, and doubtless recognising an old customer, he ran immediately at the bull, turning him in his course, worrying and snapping at nose and legs. Vainly did Snowball attempt to cope with this assail- ant. Trusty was too much for him, and before he had done led the lumbering brute a dance in which he found Httle profit or amusement. Harold, at sight of this diversion in his favour, lost no time in joining Eunice. He found her leaning on the gate, deadly pale and trembling violently. " Oh ! I am so glad you are safe. I thought that you would be killed, that I EUNICE. 20I should see you tossed by that frightful animal," and she shuddered, hiding her face in her shaking hands, while tears born of her rehef forced their way through them. " Do not be alarmed,'' said he, tenderly. " It is all right now." To see her cry was almost too much for him. He leaned over her, and both were silent : he was striving to suppress an almost irresistible longing to take her in his arms and reassure her terrified spirit with fond words ; but he restrained himself, remembering that such a proceeding might agitate her yet further. CHAPTER XVII. She's beautiful ; and therefore to be woo'd : She is a woman ; therefore to be won. HAT should I have done if you had not been there ?" said Eunice at last, uncovering her white face, from which all the pretty colour had fled. " I should have died, if only of the terror." " If / had not been there you would not have run into danger. It was all my fault," he answered, sadly. At this reproach the colour rushed into her face crimsoning it to the roots of her hair. Harold pitied her confusion ; he was incHned to be lenient to any of her failings, particularly if she were contrite. EUNICE. 203 "Wont you sit down, Miss Grantley, before you walk home 1— you must be tired after running. Here's a rick that will make a capital resting-place ; there is just enough cut," said he persuasively, and gathering some of the hay he arranged it for a seat. " I am shaking so with the fright that I must rest. You will think me a sad coward. Come here. Trusty. What should we have done but for you, you dear old dog?" and she kissed the dog and made much of him. " In future I will never call you mongrel, or make any more disparaging remarks on your very short tail." Harold was joyful at the satisfaction she innocently expressed that he had not been hurt, for she was safe before the dog ap- peared : it gave him courage to sit down at her feet, and much nearer than the occasion required. 204 EUNICE. " It is I who ought to be grateful to Trusty. At the moment of his opportune appearance I thought I felt Snowball's horns." "And 1 owe, perhaps, my life to yon^ Mr. Harnage. You know that I do thank you," and she looked at him softly, tears and smiles, roses and lihes struggling for mastery in her charming face. " It was my only idea to come to you — that you would save me. Why did you take off your coat ?" "I have never seen a bull-fight, but I have heard that the matadors often divert the bull's attention by throwing a cloth over his head and jumping on one side. As a forlorn hope I was about to try it, but being a first attempt, it is not likely I should have been successful. Trusty was a much surer card, therefore I did my best to play him." EUNICE. 205 "And very successfully. We are very fortunate to be sitting here ; I feel as if an eternity had passed since I left home this afternoon. Do you know, I am glad to be in the world still ; it is too perfect a day to leave it. I always feel good-natured on a lovely day ; and I forgive — yes, I do forgive even Snowball," said Eunice, in a paroxysm of generosity. " And me — do you forgive 77?^ for being the involuntary cause of your fright ?" he asked, anxiety written on his broad, low brow, and speaking in a moved voice. " You were so involuntary that I think I must strain my generosity to that extent," said she, with a laugh and a short unheed- ing glance into the grey eyes that beamed bright beneath his cap. " How untidy I am ! I must have been a good imitation of Madge Wildfire or one of the Furies when I ran towards you, hands outstretched and 2o6 EUNICE. locks flying." She laughed lightly. "I have not lost my ribbon, though it is hanging by a single hair." She proceeded to tie back her curls, obstreperous tresses and not often as smooth as they might have been (incomparable un- tidiness, Harold thought it). Her head sHghtly thrown back, the expression of her mouth was delicious, a pretty sighing half open mouth showing the dainty teeth. Harold regarded her during this im- promptu toilet with an enormous admiration which she bore most unconcernedly ; she had been well-trained in school hours and could stand the fire of his eyes unmoved. They were dangerous eyes, too ; a deep full grey, with dark lashes ; eyes that could tell a tale at once passionate and touching. " You were not much like a Fury," he remarked, in a slow contemplative tone. "I should say, rather an Ophelia, your EUNICE. 207 hair unbound, white dress and unsteady steps." " I prefer to be a Fury as an alternative ; Ophelia was unhappy in everything ; do not liken me to her. I dropped my basket, and my hat, too, is gone, I know not where, for I also lost my head, as far as I could assist at the operation. I am sorry about my hat," said she, ruefully. ** It was the first time of wearing, and I do not often have a new one. " " I will go and get it, Miss Grantley," said Harold, rising promptly. " I shall find it directly, and I hope uninjured. Do not go away ; you may see some sport." " No, no, no, you must not go I You shall not go near that dreadfiil animal again : it may be still angry. Indeed, I do not care for the hat. I will never wear it again." *' I may as well fetch it in case you should 2o8 EUNICE. change your mind. See ! the bull is quiet enough ; he is lying down, tired I should think by his unwonted exercise." '' DonH go, please, Mr. Harnage," pressing her hands together in the earnestness of her entreaty. " I would much rather you did not." On this occasion he would not content her, but picking up a thick sapling that lay near, he vaulted over the gate. "I am armed this time," waving his stick. She stood watching him while he walked direct to where the cows were browsing : they had risen at the melee, but were in the same part of the park. The bull alone was reposing, and the prostrate hero vouchsafed no notice to Harold : he allowed him to come within a few feet to pick up the basket after he had retrieved the hat. At close quarters the stick may have been EUNICE. 209 perceptible ; also his vicious pride had been somewhat chastened by Trusty's discipline. Eunice watched the proceedings with interest. She had a strong inclination to decamp when she saw he was out of danger, and looked furtively around meditating escape ; it was only by putting constraint on herself, and calling to mind her obliga- tions that she suppressed the desu^e — it would be ungrateful not to wait and receive her property. Harold did not know of this contemplated ungenerous desertion, and he beamed on her as he approached. " Well, that expedition did not require much courage, Miss Grantley. I hope the hat is none the worse," regarding her critically as she put it on. "I think it is a little. Snowball must have trampled on it." " Yes ; don't I look battered and dissi- pated V said Eunice, giving an arch upward VOL. I. 14 2IO EUNICE. glance into two full dark eyes instinct with liquid fii'e. " You look" — he paused, then said, fii'mlj — '' you look, as you always do — lovely y It was the first time he had ever ventured on outspoken admiration. It was not successful. " I think it is time to go home, Mr. Hamage," said she, coldly. " Perhaps you mean to walk ftirther. I am sure not to meet any more bulls." " Let me come with you V said he, be- seechingly. " I can carry the basket : you must have been a Lady Bountiful to have so large a one." " Yes, I had been to see !Mrs. Gathercole ; she is not well, and her baby, too, is ill She is very pretty ; and I always feel more pleasure in helping nice-looking people. It was quite a touching sight this afternoon," EUNICE. 211 Eunice went on eagerly, and forgetful of Harold's sins. " I went into the cottage quietly, and saw the mother asleep, leaning her head on the cradle where baby lay : she looked so pale and pretty. Her eldest boy, who cannot be more than seven, was seated near, and had evidently constituted himself guardian of their slumbers, for he formed his lips into a ' hush ' that I should not disturb them." " Quite a sweet picture of home affection," said Harold, approvingly. " Yes, I would not mar it, and came away at once, leaving the loving httle sentinel still proudly on guard." " An unusually nice child that." " Papa and Leo have gone into Trenton to hear Lord Errington's speech," said Eunice, for the sake of saying something. " He feels some interest then for the opposite side T 14—2 2IZ EUNICE. A sudden gravity extinguished her cheer- ftdness. " I fear, more than he Hkes to own. Poor papa ! I am sure he is not happy ; Mr. Pyke, or his politics, weigh on his spirits ; he has not been himself since that man came here." " I thoucrht — I — fancied you liked Mr. Pyke," said Harold, seizing the chance to discover her sentiments. It would be difficult to imagine an individual less likely to arouse a tender interest in the female breast than Mr. Pyke ; but anything in the shape of a man, and under fifty years of age, would have excited Harold's jea- lousy in his present imbecile condition. Mr. Sweasey he regarded as a thing rather than a person ; nor had Sweasey dis- played the same bold appropriation of Miss Grantley. " Then you must think badly of my taste, EUNICE. 213 Mr. Harnage. But I know papa wishes me to be polite to Mr. Pyke ; and I would do a great deal more than smother a little dis- like to please him." " I share your enthusiasm ; I am inclined to believe that your father is a very superior man." *' You are right: but why do you say so?" " Because to have such a daughter, one who loves him so fondly, the parent must be above the average." " That is a comphment to me rather than to him. Don't try to say pretty things," said she, impetuously. " I hate them ; it makes me feel as if I were being treated like a child." " In some respects you are very chndish." " Ah ! that is better. Scold me — be superior ; but don't feed me with sugar- 214 EUNICE. plums : they are an insult to the under- standing of — — " *' Seventeen !" " Eighteen,'' she corrected hastily ; " and folly is not measured by years." " Experience makes sadness, but not wisdom, I beheve. But though 1 have been very foolish, I have not given up all hope of improvement." " Foolish ! as how ?" "Shall I seize a favourable moment to make the confession that I am a luckless paper-stainer. " *' What do you mean ?' " My reputation has not preceded me, I see. I thought our friend Sweasey had spotted me, or I would not have spoken," *' Are you an author — really f " " An unseen and awful power has urged me into a waste and lonely wilderness of thought," he rephed, smiling into her kind- EUNICE. 215 ling eyes. " But I perceive release from my doom, and shall do my best to second the efforts of my dehvering angel." (For her sake he could go back to the hated City and pursuit of dross.) "And you do not like writing?" the sweet eyes somewhat puzzled for his meaning. " Until lately, I have never been quite happy, except when I was writing. But now^ I could discourse whole reams on the calamities of authors. " " Then you have not been successful ?" " Not overpoweringly so. But Hope still sustains me. Sweet Hope ! I cannot part with it ; while achieving only the conquest of shadows, it is yet invincible, for it believes itself on the way to attain everything that it desires." Eunice looked troubled : with magical intuition of sentiment she divined that 2i6 EUNICE. something more was passing in his mind than what was trusted to his tongue. They had come to some farm buildings, and passed through a straw-yard, where there were a few heifers. Eunice s nerves must have been shaken ; their horns were obviously infantine and innoxious, yet she turned pale and seized her companion's arm. " Oh ! come away, Mr. Hamage, they are looking at us !" " No, they are quite young and harm- less," said he, soothingly. *' But take my arm, you are tired." *^ No need at all," drawing away from him, and walking on fast. Harold wished the bullocks would look at her again, as he preferred that she should clutch him. She went trippingly on until their progress was stopped by a stile some three feet high. EUNICE. 217 " What a horrid stile ! Can't we go round ?" But a barn lay on either side, and there was clearly no way of surmounting the difficulty except to get over it. " I think we can manage. Let me help you." "No, thank you. I can do it best by myself," rejecting his offered hand. But whether in her hurry she caught her foot, or the scile might have been made slippery by the late rain, she bungled, and would have fallen had not Harold caught her in his ready embrace. For one brief bhssful moment he had her in his arms, her face touching his shoulder, her heart beating against his. He could scarce release his hold, but she withdrew herself directly. " How stupid you must think me ! Not even able to get over that without falling. 2i8 EUNICE, It is Snowball's fault ; lie has destroyed my nerve." Harold was silent, pale with excess of fondness ; his only wish that some blessed chance might allow him to fold her again in his arms. Why would she not love him as he did her"? Women sometimes loved men ; and if she cared for him ever so little, he would be satisfied. " I have not been through this shed for months. I believe it is where the hens hide their eggs ; we do not get so many as we ought, I am persuaded. Now I am here I think I will have a hunt. Will you help, Mr. Harnage T " Certainly, if you will tell me what I am to do." E/ip seemed to become uneasy in his mind when they entered the dilapidated shed. Harold would have done anything EUNICE. 219 Eunice desired ; and now, at her command, he cHmbed here, there, and everywhere, she standing in the centre of the building directing his labours, and laughing at his ill-success. The raven hovered around, dehvering himself of innumerable " Choks," varied by many asseverations of acquaintance and " Bad boys," as Harold made vigorous search. "You are not half enterprising, Mr. Harnage ; higher up there is a sort of shelf, where I am convinced a mine of wealth Hes hidden." He redoubled his exertions, and was rewarded by an approving glance. " How disappointing to find nothing !" "I haven't tried the roof yet," said Harold ; *' that seems a likely corner." Hollower and hoarser grew the raven's croak ; he jumped about in evident anger, 220 EUNICE. and his " Choks" became quite savage as the young man prodded about with his stick. " By Jove ! I have found something," cried Harold — a profound plunge of his stick bringing down a part of the crazy roof, and with it something shiny. " Look here. Miss Grantley ; see my treasure ! Why, it must be Rip's hoard !" The raven gave a dismal croak. He had chosen, as he imagined, a secure hiding- place, but with his love of secretion his store grew and grew, and he had to deepen the hole until it was as deep as the thatch itself At the aggravation of another thwack of the stick down it came, a medley of thimbles, rings, knitting-needles, salt- spoons, buttons, buckles. " I declare we have found his hiding- place at last !" said Eunice, in great excitement. " And here is my pearl ring, EUNICE. 221 the last thing my mother gave me ! How I cried the day Rip flew off with it. I chose pearis because I like white best. But the stones are spoiled with the damp, and it has grown so tight I cannot get it off. It is making my finger swell." He took the hand she stretched out piteously to him. " I will get it off in a moment/' said he, cheerfully. But he was a long time, for he did not wish to hurt her. *' The pearls," said he, " are spoiled, *' inspecting the ring; then coolly putting it in his waistcoat pocket. " I will send to town and get some fresh ones put in for you." " But that will be expensive," she objected ; " and I have no money. I must ask papas leave first." "No, do not," said he, imploringly. 222 EUNICE, " Wont you let me do such a little thing for you T " I could not ; why should I T she answered, with a haughty stare. "You have not so much money that you can afford to waste it upon me." He turned his head aside, dimib with mortification, more at the indifferent, sur- prised look, than the accompanying words. Eunice took a peep round, and relented when she perceived his hurt, downcast expression ; although she knew very well that the tutor had no business to be con- cerning himself in her jewellery, nor any other personal adornments. " Mr. Hamage — on — on second thoughts, if you will be so kind, I should like you to get the ring altered for me ; but let me know afterwards how much it costs. I daresay it will be nothing ruinous." And Harolds dark face glowed with EUNICE. 223 renewed satisfaction ; that shabby little ring lying snugly near his heart seemed a good omen to draw hers nearer to him. " I must make haste ; we have a dinner- party to night — the Verschoyles, Mrs. Marshall, and the Watsons." And hastily collecting E-ip's sundries, they departed like two happy children for the house : the raven, crestfallen, hopped disconsolately in the rear, at iQtervals feebly croakiQg the inquiry — " I'm a thief — am I V LQ the face of overwhelming evidence ; and perhaps finding consolation in meditating a fresh stock-in-trade. CHAPTER XVIII. 'Tis not in mortals to command success, But we'll do more, Sempronius ; we'll deserve it. HE quiet town was in a ferment, in all the anarchy and disorder of a strongly contested borough elec- tion. The principal shops were closed, work at a standstill ; the woollen manu- facturers had deserted their looms, and calico printers their blocks, to swell the idle mob and vociferate their political tendencies. The high church steeple alone appeared to preserve its gravity, and towered above unmoved by the general hubbub. Viscount Errington was to make his appeal to the hearts and sympathies of the accredited voters, and intense curiosity was EUNICE. 225 felt as to how the lord would act, move, and speak. His ancestral seat was not ten miles distant, and yet he was an unfamiliar sight in Trenton. The meeting was announced to commence at two o'clock, but long before that hour the town-hall was densely crowded, the platform being occupied by the leading Conservatives of the district. A British election is perhaps the most humiliating trial pride can undergo. The higher the rank of the would-be member the greater the submission to which the low-minded voter expects he will descend. Lord Errington carried his notorious phlegm into this latest enterprise. He dared to keep the mass — packed closely as herrings in a barrel — waiting. They knew their power, and murmurs of dissatisfaction, which threatened to become a general outcry, swelled around until Mr. Jewin's VOL. I. 15 226 EUNICE. green eye (its fellow was a dead letter) twinkled with an exceeding brightness not unworthy of a railway danger signal : the head baker of Trenton, he had deserted his loaves for more attractive fish, and watched the progress of affairs in Mr. Pyke's interest. He was a fearsome look- ing creature, his face like a seal, but desti- tute of the benevolent expression that characterizes that charming animal ; a tre- mendous length of upper lip, eyelashless visual organs, a flattened nose, and round, bullet-head, smooth and bald as a baby's. The next minute his exultation was quenched, and the rival election agent, Mr. Doolittle (the Trenton brewer, a biped whose blazing countenance spoke very intelligibly of the beer-barrel, if of nothing more exciting), glared triumphant defiance at Messrs. Jewin and Boorer, as Ms man, supported by Lords Struthaven and Vers- EUNICE. 227 choyle, entered the hall " with measured tread and slow." Douglas Oscar Vivian, Viscount Erring- ton — on a first introduction he should have the full benefit of his names — had never been seen in a hurry, or even mildly flustered, in his Hfe. He possessed the impassability, the sangfroid with which the aristocrat veils his emotions so religiously, and which is at once the blessing and peculiarity of his order. The " Dove" — used for a shortening of his cognomen — looked imperturbably calm as he inclined his blonde head in graceful acknowledg- ment of the prolonged cheering. "What a handsome man!" sighed the women when he came forward, hat in hand, and they had a fuller view of the slim figure, silky golden moustaches, Grecian nose, and sunny locks that were his lady-mother's glory. 15—2 228 EUNICE. " A coxcomb, every inch !" growled the men, indignant at the feminine verdict, and anxious to qiiaHfy. " Never do for a speaker — can only display his pretty teeth. " Lord Struthaven, as chairman, having opened the meeting, Mr. Greatorex intro- duced the candidate in a few well-chosen words that were almost drowned in the general noise and excitement that preceded the real speech of the day. In spite of his being under-sized, Lord Errington's almost girUsh beauty filled the platform : he at- tracted and riveted all eyes. '' I had some hesitation" (he never looked more cool, more decided) '' in accepting the invitation given to me to stand before you this day. It is a source of great satis- faction to be well received by such a large and respectable body of one's fellow crea- tures, still more flattering when I remember that it has been my privilege to spend my EUNICE. 229 life among you" (a bold trope, but telling). " Encouraged by your support, I am ready to encounter the perils and dangers of Parliament, and I can give no greater proof of the deep interest I take in this con- stituency." (Cheers.) "It is difficult for a tyro to justify his convictions, explain his principles, and defend his tendencies, and it will be safer for me not to attempt the arduous task" (symptoms of disappro- bation) "still I shall speak plainly and frankly," his silver tones holding on theii* even tenour, "for if we are to be of any use — I to you and you to me^we had better understand each other. At the same time, I consider you are a degree more unfortunate than myself in that you are called upon to listen to a speech which / have to make. " His sweet words fell like oil on the troubled meeting, the storm of mingled 230 EUNICE. cheers and hisses subsiding before the equability of mind which he radiated among his adherents. There was such supreme absence of anxiety about him that ilHmitable confidence was felt in a man who could remain unmoved in the midst of the brawl and hubbub. " The cause that calls us together to-day is one of no trifling importance. This ancient town is to show whether it means to give way to innovations of principles that it has upheld for centuries. The wolf has pene- trated into the fold, but your shepherd is at hand, and you have only to empower him to effect your deliverance from the threatened danger." (Sensation, and a cry of " Bravo, Errington," from some one at the back of the hall.) " I am before you no stranger," continued the young man, with a clear enunciation and calm dehberateness that yet had its EUNICE. 231 eloquence ; " you probably know my fail- ings and my virtues. I have no ambition but to please my Queen and my country- men." (Cries of "Oh! oh!") "If you honour me by selecting me as your repre- sentative, I will do my best not to make you regret it." (Growls of "We wont trouble you.") "I am a Conservative," he resumed, his cool, gentlemanly bearing un- affected by these interpolations, " and I feel both confident and proud when I declare my principles, and which I can safely promise will never stand in the way of wise and moderate reforms. There is no reason why the working man should not be a Conservative, for are not the interests of every class best protected in the general welfare of the State ? Each man to fulfil his duty must constitute himself a defender of his country." ("Hear, hear.") "On all vital points there is no difference be- 232 EUNICE. tween the true Liberal and Conservative ; we meet on common ground, the good of our neighbour, which of necessity em- braces our own. The politicians who claim to be the friends of the labouring class, and are continually planning changes to serve them, are their worst enemies. Distur- bances suspend productive industry ; and if the capitalist lose his profit, and the landlord his rent, the workman loses his wages, and becomes a pauper or starves." (Groans.) " What have the Liberals achieved by their aggressive so-called re- forms \ Apparently they have a craving for demoHtion ; their favourite watchword is, * Destroy. ' Church, State, vested inte- rests — all must go to satisfy their destruc- tive energies ; they practise liberally the art of condemnation — an art less difficult than criminal, for to demolish is immeasur- ably easier than to create. In their un- EUNICE. 233 quiet opinions, all that is, is wrong, and they would reduce their country to a chaos of disorder in an endeavour to reahze Utopian schemes of equality. We have been twitted that ours is a suet -pudding legislation. We have been pretty active before now, and shall be again if necessary. It is easy to sneer at moderation and pru- dence ; but the wisest men have been content to practise these difficult virtues, and those who mistake tranquillity for de- cay will find their error." There was a steely gleam in the blue eyes, which, coupled with his indolent manner, gave point to his remark. "And what have the Liberals accom- plished, in fact ? We have seen a Church overthrown ; we suffer from an ill-advised, ill-managed Victualling Act." (Groans of assent.) " Did the Liberals pass the Agri- cultural Holdings Act ! Have they amelio- 5^34 EUNICE. rated the condition of landlord and tenant ? No ! But they have taken your children forcibly from you, where they could help their parents, and learn in the best school — home.^ industry and fortitude ; they have taken them in order that they may over- educate them, until they are fit for nothing except to labour under the delusion that they are too fine for their parents, and for the work-a-day position in life to which they were bom. " A perfect hurricane of cheers greeted the conclusion of this rounded period. A hit at the School Board was the Blue candi- date's coup, and the dissatisfaction in Trenton, that children were being made book-wise instead of working at the looms, now found vent in despairing shrieks from every operative present. It was obviously not a coup manque, and, well-pleased, the Dove remained unruffled EUNICE. 235 until the storm abated, when his placid tones again succeeded in obtaining a hearing. *' I believe from the bottom of my heart" — (a voice, suspiciously like Jewin's, " You han't got such a thing") — "I beheve," omitting the objectionable phrase with a sweet smile, " that the thinking portion of my hearers will agree with me, that we have had enough of sensational, reckless legislation. We want peace and quiet, after the uneasy experiments to which all have been subjected in their several depart- ments. The foundations of England are jarred to the very centre of her being ; and I call upon you now, my friends, to place a helping hand upon her panting heart ; and I shall not call in vain. The beating of your country's gratitude will stir your — souls, until — until you feel — ready winged for immortality." (This last 236 EUNICE. intimation was not popular with some nu- merous personages who had thoroughly mastered the art of sibilation.) " I must lastly touch on a very delicate subject." (Instantaneous and complete silence ! — a soup(^on of scandal flavoured and enlivened the noble lord's discourse.) "It is ground that I would rather not tread ; but England expects every man to do his duty, and I shall not shrink from mine." His elegant form dilated, and his beautiful features grew unutterably majes- tic. " It behoves all men in these perilous times to look well to the conduct and character of the man they propose shall represent them. We know little of my opponent. I leave it to you, my discerning friends, to judge whether that little is to his credit." (Voice in the crowd — " He be a noice Parliament-man, he bees.") " A promoter of doubtful companies — an adept EUNICE, 237 at unknown tricks — should such an one be able to show on any hustings with safety to his Hfe r He continued to denounce Pyke's City career with a simple manly fervour that was not without evident effect on his audience, until Messrs. Jewin and Boorer's ingenuous visages took on an orange tint, and their immediate neighbours fancied they heard the gnashing of teeth. " Gentlemen, I have said what I wished to say badly, I fear, but you must think of the matter not the manner. If you return me, I shall strive to discharge my duties — Faithfully and Well shall be my motto. If you wish to have me, I am very much at your service. Gentlemen, I thank you.'' Errington brought his address to a tri- umphant conclusion, cool, undaunted, self- possessed as ever, he had not turned a hair, while the exultant Doolittle, in a profuse 238 EUNICE. heat of enthusiasm, led off the cry, " Show Hands !" A demand that set innumerable hard brown extremities in motion — one might imagine that each individual present was a Briareus. CHAPTER XIX. When Greeks join'd Greeks, then was the tug of war. ORELL PYKE also gnashed his splendid ivories on receiving a full and unvarnished report of the day's proceedings from the faithful Sweasey ; his eyes lighted up with un- wonted fire ; he was enraged almost to madness to hear how he and his practices had been gibbeted in his adversary's address. His disgust was unreasoning, for low as he rated his rival's abihties and chances of success, he could scarcely have expected that his own previous history should pass current without comment, still less that Errington's canvass should collapse at the first trial. He had been deluded by that 240 EUNICE. sleepy gentleman's well-known insouciance, and his total inaction in trying to please the voters up to the present time. Pyke hastily summoned a council con- sisting of Sweasey, Jewin, and Boorer to be held with closed doors in Sir Peter's own sanctum. " Affairs are getting critical ; we must exert ourselves. Strain every nerve be- tween this and Thursday. I give you four days. Why, the world could be won and lost in less time," said Pyke, in a hissing concentrated voice, very unlike his usual jocular self-satisfied bray. *' Don't quite see how it's to be done, Capen," replied Boorer, a lean, spare individual, whose militia exercise comprised his notion of a man's whole duties in life, and who was pleased to confer brevet rank on his employers. " I say it shall he done. I was never yet EUNICE. 241 beaten in anything I set my mind upon accomplishing. " ( " Every man for himself, " he muttered. ) ' ' Hark ye, " and he whispered low to his agents. " It will cost a lot of money," objected Boorer, his lank hair betraying a disposition to stand on end, as his long ears drank in his principal's instructions. " That is my affair," responded Pyke. " Spare no expense : that popinjay shall be beaten. I have said it." " But they are not used to the kind of thing here," said Jewin, still doubtful. " Lose no time then ; such io^norance should be cultivated without delay." " Fallow ground always yields the richest crop," squeaked Mr. Sweasey, his red eyes twinkhnof encourao^ement on the astute Pyke's scheme. " They will not attempt a scrutiny, it would be too costly a proceed- VOL. I. 16 242 EUNICE. Mr. Jewiii looked relieved at this prac- tical view. " According to the register, the Conservatives have it ; there is no use in our blinding ourselves to the fact." " Struthaven may have a house in the neighbourhood, but he has little land, and no real influence — so don't tell me," blustered Mr. Pyke, whose combative dis- position was thoroughly roused. " True, but then he has the Greatorex interest, which is not small," remarked Sweasey, in his cold, sluggish manner. "Sir Peter Grantley could do a stroke for us," suggested Boorer ; "but he's not much good since he went over to the other side. The place is naturally Conservative." " We must show them their mistake : it would never do for a Liberal to be mean and niggardly. Let us have a liberal em- ployment of men ; you must create good feeling." EUNICE, 243 " None exists, certainly," said Sweasey, pithily. Again whispered instructions were given as if Mr. Pyke feared the very air would carry the tactics of his canvass. " You must try the messenger trick largely. A long, straggling place like that requires a lot of men : let me see ; you can put on sixty or seventy at once." " But, Capen, we can't find employment for half the number," expostulated Boorer. " There is no occasion they should stagger under their load," replied Pyke, sternly ; " if I am to fight your scruples as well as the borough we had better shut up shop. You don t wish to work the poor fellows too hard on such an occasion : give each man, say, four posters. Then it is necessary to have a ' watcher ' for each bill — to see they are put on proper sites, and that the Blues do not paste anything over them. The 16—2 244 EUNICE. other side must be watched ; they are suspiciously quiet. These should be relieved in turn. — You call all this reasonable, I should hope ?" *' But if the Blues hear of it, and they can't fail to do so ?" said Jewin, still despondent. "It is colourable employment; the statute will cover us. The laws are so strict we take our revenge upon morals. — Ha ! ha!" " A poor man will never be able to contest the borough after you, Capen. " " I can only look after myself; it occupies all my energies, to the exclusion of my successors. And have plenty of clerks, also voters (of undecided mind) ; we'll find work for them. The sheep must have shepherds — that's fair enough. Seventy, did I say \ — put on a hundred. Employ voters ; naturally they would EUNICE. 245 have the preference — they are older, steadier men." " Particularly when they have a half gallon of double X inside them," said Jewin, leering diabolically with his one eye. " Yes, let the stream flow ; it will fer- tilize them, and bring them to their right minds. Beer is a wonderful clearer of the understanding ; it dissipates doubts, and accommodates itself to the meanest capa- city. Our side must be made popular ; if beer wont loosen their principles try some- thing stronger — try brandy." '' It will cost a nice little sum," said Boorer, more cheerfully; 'Hhe publicans are coming round." " Draw upon me to any amount — no questions will be asked. Engage a band or two, and don't forget the drum — they like tomfoolery. And buy up all the cabs." 246 EUNICE. " I say, Capen !" remonstrated Boorer. *' Do it, I say. They are quite fair election dodges. Go, and lose no time ; report to me to-morrow how it works." " I'll do my best," said Jewin ; " but my flock is likely to prove an obstreperous one." " All the more honour if you show yourself a good captain. Get on, my masters," said Pyke, dismissing the trio with an imperious wave of his hand. Convinced that further appeal to his prudence was useless, they slunk off. They had few scruples to be vanquished, and Pyke's strong will and domineering hard-headedness overcame their fears; such a man must be able to bear them scathless. Left alone, Pyke employed a few moments in devoting Errington to the fiiry of the gods with a fervour that astonished himself EUNICE. 247 This business was likely to cost liim a much larger sum than he bargained for, but it should never be said that he was beaten ! " This is not the time to let down the brake," he soliloquized. " Now or never !" But if he could only have hinted that there was a convenient and deep chalk pit adjacent, which would make an appropriate whited sepulchre for this lackadaisical Pharisee — this sinner in high places — what a deal of money it would save him. Jewin and Boorer were both active fellows, and Errington was not cast in Herculean mould ; easily might they speed him to the crack of doom. He dismissed the delightful vision. Alas ! for the good old days, when your hirelings did a real venturesome piece of work for their pay ! Following the de- generacy of the time, your creatures now infinitely prefer lighter pecuniary delasse- ments. 248 EUNICE. Pyke's robust self-confidence, however, stood him in good stead. He joined his host in the garden with a brow that had recovered its unruffled and brazen cha- racteristics, and with the determination to apply the screw to Sir Peter. The utmost help that could be looked for in that quarter must be reaped without delay. Not a qualm as to the nature of the weapons he had put in motion for his opponents overthrow troubled him. Courage and ingenuity were combined in him with a moral deadness and intense egoism that prevented shame of any villanous means that circumstances ren- dered expedient. Eather he felt elated. To manipulate an intractable substance — i.e., an obstinate specimen of the genus human donkey, and compel it to follow the windings of his volition, was to him a field of delightful enterprise. CHAPTER XX. Wickedness, when successful and prosperous, is called virtue. Treason does never prosper ; what's the reason ? That when it prospers none dare call it treason. EHANCE and Lady Grantley's care- less arrangements placed Mr. Har- nage next to Lady Yerschoyle at dinner. Nor was that charming woman displea^sed when, having managed to seat herself (a matter to be accomplished with caution, so tightly were her amber skirts tied back), she discovered his proximity. Evening dress became Harold, and the make of his clothes, happily for him, was unexceptionable, remnants of better days and in Poole's best style. 250 EUNICE, " Tbe hero of the bull adventure I not handsome, but sympathetic," taking the quick inventory that practice made easy to her. " And what a pale marble look ! just like a statue. He is promising," thought Lady Yerschoyle, a dark-eyed brunette, who might be any age from twenty-five to forty, according to the coloured glasses with which she was in- spected. Younger women disposed of her as " quite old," while the men more gene- rously minded allowed her some claims to the vantage gi'ound of youth. " He is promising, and may be worth the trouble of talking to, which mine host is certainly noC Sir Peter was not showing to advantage. Pyke having availed himself of the oppor- tunity to gird at his victim, had efiectually checked the easy flow of words that stream from a mind at ease : the perpetual smile EUNICE. 251 assumed for company ill accorded with his faded eyes and dull lifeless manner, and he was willing enough that her debonnaire ladyship should cultivate the interesting young man at her side, leaving him to be silently miserable at his leisure. " You did not hear Lord Errington's speech to- day ? No, I remember you were better employed," said Lady Yerschoyle, turning her great eyes fuU on Harold " You must have earned Miss Grantley's undying gratitude. How opportune that you were near, and so brave !" Harold bowed, but said nothing, for the good reason, he had nothing to say. It might have confused a less modest man to find himself sitting next to so stupendous a lady (though, as a fact, she was of dimi- nutive stature). The turn of her head, her magnificent coiffure, the glance of eyes that outsparkled her diamonds, the 252 EUNICE. air with which she made her Httle utter- ances, all went a long way to dazzle and confuse the uninitiated. She didn't even handle her gloves like any one else, and the flourishing of the delicate begemmed fingers ! Then her dress ! But words fail to describe such perfection. Mesdames Follet and Modes, if possessed of common gratitude, ought not to have troubled the lady with accounts, in consideration of the large custom she attracted to their estab- lishment ; no advertisement could be equally eloquent and convincing. " You will make Mr. Harnage vain. I fancy it was not much of an afiair," said Sir Peter, who was pleased that Eunice made no fuss about her suffered terrors, and pleased also at the tutor's modest reception of his praises. " I am sorry to have missed Lord Errington's speech," said Harold. EUNICE. 253 " His nonchalance is so superb, we feared he would not use his eloquence." " And he has reassured his friends T "Oh yes; he is too charming. My husband is no politician, and we are only birds of passage (this is not our county, you know), yet I am interested in the election." " Your colours are blue ?" Lady Verschoyle nodded. " Hush ! You must say it low in the present company." Lord Verschoyle, a grave, saturnine man, verging on the fifties, did not regard the orange candidate favourably, to judge from the glances he shot at him beneath his rugged brow. Pyke's entry into aristo- cratic society had not been uncontested ; but like other battles he had fought, his irrepressible forwardness and vigilant acti- vity to seize every opening, and his wealth, 254 EUNICE. had won his way. He now circulated freely — was considered a financial Hon, and arrogated the airs of one. The bloated capitaHst was in the humour to trumpet forth his gold. " I don't rest my claims to consideration on the hypothetical deeds of my great- grandfather," said Pyke, bumptiously. " Let every tub rest on its own bottom." " Your sentiments are convenient," said Lord Verschoyle, poHtely acquiescent. " You must move with the age. My maxim is, ' Never stand still.' " " A very restless one ; requires a first- rate digestion. And may I ask, Mr. Pyke, whether you intend to uphold the Public Worship Act ?" " I never meddle with reHgion ; it is a matter of conscience with me," replied Pyke, modestly. " I congratulate you, Mr. Pyke, on your EUNICE. 255 prospects," put in Lady Yerschoyle. " The Courier has carried the news of your can- vass, and is flattering of your success ; the Sun positively beams upon you; the Evening Star bedews you with hope ; while the Orb sounds your praises everywhere." " Notoriety is the tax a man must ex- pect to pay for being eminent," said Pyke, conceitedly. " What may not be swallowed, before one chokes !" muttered Lord Verschoyle, gazing ungratefully at the silvery moss of the Moselle that coronalled his glass. " You will spoil even Mr. Pyke's modesty," said Harold to his neighbour, curhng liis upper hp, and thereby drawing her atten- tion to his perfect mouth. " What is gone is past mending," laughed her ladyship. " Our yellow friend is well aware of one truth — that money is a good composition for taking stains out of cha- 256 EUNICE. racter ; infallible in its action if the remedy is used by a bountiful hand." " ' Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear ; robes and furr'd gowns hide all/ " quoted Mr. Harnage. " Yes ; it only remains for Mr. Pyke to buy a ducal estate to be the man most sought after in London," said Lady Yers- choyle, pensively. " He is a great creature — in his way : he fills me with awe (of a certain kind). Everything he touches turns to gold ; his influence over stocks and shares is illimitable. I shiver at sight of a man who has power to crush so many of his feUow-creatures." " And not only the capacity but the will, if report speaks truly," said Harold, sinking his voice, but not so low that Sir Peter, who listened intently, failed to catch the words. '' I hold a speculator to be the worst kind of gambler — a man who must forego the EUNICE, 257 luxuries of self-respect, virtue, honour, and duty. It is a debasing kind of excitement from which nothing but evil can come — playing at chances where it is more dis- graceful to win than even disastrous to lose." " Yes ; one cannot touch pitch and be undefiled," said Sir Peter, with a sigh that was almost a groan. The cause of his employer's depression flashed upon Harnage. His complaisance to this unwelcome visitor — all was ex- plained. " I hope Eunice likes the idea of acting," said her volatile ladyship, who did not wish the conversation to degenerate into gloomy depths. " I believe so," said Sir Peter, wearily. Lady Yerschoyle thoroughly understood the art of putting a stranger at his ease. When she willed it it was next to im- possible for the shyest specimen to resist VOL. I. 17 258 EUNICE. her facile manner and cordial words, to remain otherwise than wilfully in his shell. Harold had no such desii^e, and her un- expected friendliness matured like magic a scheme, or rather a mad hope. This visit to Fairfields disquieted him. If he could only get an invitation to accompany Miss Grantley. Harold did not admire Lady Yerschoyle's outre, careless manner, but the want of appreciation was not apparent. There was always an involuntary ardour about him when with women that seldom failed to prepossess them in his favour, a something courteous and wistM that gave him a singular charm, and proved his open sesame to the hearts of those who command everything. " I hear that you are going most kindly to provide an entertainment which will embrace many happy people," said Mr. Hamage. EUNICE. 259 " Yes. I like to draw the members of a country society together : it is a good work to knit acquaintances closer. They are so given to dropping their friends here ; are they not, Sir Peter ?" " I fear you will find it a gathering of disjunctive conjunctions," he replied. '' My Cousin Mostyn is answerable for the performance. The paradise of his imagination has always been to have private theatricals on a scale worthy the grandeur of the subject, and Fairfields not being our own house, I thought it an oppor- tunity to oblige him. He runs riot amid lath and plaster, paint and paper, to his heart's content. He would not come with us to-night. He had a divine afflatus, and preferred to work it off. He is writing a play, and is lost in a thousand ideas, his intellects turned topsy-turvy by his metemp- sychosis. His eyes are for ever ques- 17—2 26o EUNICE. tioning tlie ceiling, and his spirit is wrapt in soul-stirring visions of theatrical bea- titude. " " Then you are to have the glory of a first appearance on any stage ?" said Harold. *' Yes. It is my cousin's charitable desire to give Taylor and Byron a little rest," said her ladyship, demurely. " But, as he says of himself, he is too vast, original, and exquisite. He cannot curb his luxuriant imaorination down to the level of our re- sources ; his projects are too sublime" (with a sigh). " He began a play in blank verse, but his hero was such a splendid gigantic creature I never could have found any one to do justice to the part." " And the production was not com- pleted ?" "No, the difficulties were too great, and fresh ones continually staited up. At one time he introduced an army and fought a EUNICE. 261 prodigious battle. Then there was a ship- wreck — no — a fire." " I should think a light comedy or farce " suggested Harold. " That was my desire. Unhappily Mr. Mostyn's proclivities are entirely tragic. He says that comedy exhilarates but at the same time debilitates the mind, while tragedy agitates the passions in order to purify the soul. Can you act ?" suddenly turning to Harold with the added hght of inspiration in her bright eyes. *' Yes. In fact, I may as well make the admission. I was a ' Shooting Star' at Oxford. Perhaps yoa have not heard of those meteors ?" " Indeed but I have," her respect visibly increased. " How fortunate ! I shaU ask you to help me through this afiair with eclat. I want a lover sadly for the first piece, for that tiresome Mr. Inchbald has 262 EUNICE. failed us. Will you consent to oblige me T " I shall be too happy if I can be of use, and you will trust me" — and again Harold smiled in his sweetest fashion — until Eunice was consumed with curiosity as to what could be under discussion. " And who is the lady-love you are going to present to me V " Miss Grantley takes the part ; but you are the unhappy unsuccessful lover. I hope you will not mind, and that it will not be prophetic of your future lot," answered Lady Yerschoyle, lightly. " 1 hope not" said he, with an involun- tary fervour the occasion did not openly require. *' We will consider the matter settled. I shall go back to my cousin quite proud of the addition I have made to our company." " I have given my most grateful, willing EUNICE. 263 consent," said Harold, in a low voice ; ^^ you must obtain Sir Peters. You know that I am a species of bond-slave just now. " " I understand. " And she did. Before she left the dining-room she assailed Sir Peter so sweetly, with such a " You shall not say me nay air," that he was fain to help her out of her lover troubles, by promising Harold's assistance. That artful young man carefully veiling his eagerness, and seemingly only anxious to oblige his patron's guests. CHAPTER XXI. Amiens. My voice is ragged ; I know I cannot please you. Jaques. I do not desire you to please ; I do desire you to sing. — Shakspeare. HAT do you think of my powers, Eunice ? Have I not cheered your Knight of the Eueful Countenance ?" inquired Lady Yerschoyle. " I hope my cousin will not be angry," she continued, in a tone of real alarm ; " he is a general autocrat in tliis business, and will not let me move in it without his consent." " It is rather late to think of that." " Oh ! you approve — tant mieux ; and Felix cannot object. IVIr. Hamage will look the part to perfection, and that is EUNICE. 265 half the battle. We managers must take our chance about the acting. He has just the wobegone, Werther sort of face, that marks the unsuccessful lover." " He has had misfortunes," said Eunice, gravely. " Poor young man ! But I think I enlivened him a Httle bit." " Yes, your conversation appeared pecu- liarly interesting." '' I can't help the men being foolish," said Lady Verschoyle, coquettishly. " He is charming, so distingue ; but so pale and over- cast by sadness, I had doubts whether you gave him enough to eat. Hovrever, he seemed superior to your chef's blandishments, and I have dismissed the horrid suspicion. I want you to see my cousin act." The talkative little lady found it impossible to keep from the engrossing topic of the theatricals. " He is superb in low comedy ; though of course he labours under the 266 EUNICE, delusion that tragedy is his forte — all comic geniuses do." " I hope you will honour me with an invi- tation, Lady Yerschoyle T said Mr. Pyke, who on entering the room had joined his double attraction. His admiration of Lady Yerschoyle was unbounded. " Monstrous fine woman — egad ! Eyes like duplex lamps — go right through one." But they did not light up his heart, though he was quite ready to make himself agreeable ; perhaps he thought a slight infusion of jealousy might deepen Eunice s appreciation. " I — I — scarcely know," hesitated Lady Yerschoyle. " I am a first-rate performer, if you will entrust me with a role on your boards." " We should be most happy to see you, of course ; but Lord Errington will be with us, and in the same house your meeting might be a " EUNICE. 267 " Second edition of the Kilkenny cats ?" laughed Pyke. " Happily we are neither of us hot-headed Irishmen. Besides, we shall have finished our fio^ht." " And you are sure that you will not bear malice T inquired Lady Yerschoyle, roguishly. " I always forgive the vanquished." " The end is evidently a foregone con- clusion with you." " The necessity of the case entails collisions at present, but it is not a matter of personal feeling or rancour. " (Oh ! Pyke ! remember the chalk pit.) "If you will allow me the opportunity of proving my friendliness with mine enemy, I shall be grateful. " His insincere tone should have put Lady Verschoyle on her guard, but that madcap dame heeded nought. " So be it," said she, gaily. " If you can face the position, I think the spectators 268 EUNICE. may chance the emotions likely to be roused/' Eunice could not sing, and played in- differently ; Lady Verschoyle had brought no music ; the evening threatened dulness. " I am sure you sing, Mr. Hamage," said Lady Verschoyle, glancing up at Harold, as he stood behind her chair. "A ' Shooting Star ' must be musical." " You are confounding them with the ' Wandering Minstrels,' I think ; but I do sing a little." "Pray favour us, then." "I warn you I shall make an awful noise. I have not simg for months." " Sing," said the lady, imperatively. " We will discount your imperfections, make due allowance for drawbacks." "If I have your permission," said Harold, to Lady Grantley. And without more ado he sat down, and accompanied himself, sing- ing a French chanson in compliment to Lady EUNICE. 269 Grantlej in a sweet tenor voice, and with great expression. Every one was delighted, save Mr. Pyke, who objected to anybody's shining but him- self Eunice, though no performer, was passion- ately fond of music, and that Mr. Hamage could sing and play hke this came upon her as a revelation : she sat fascinated, her lips breathlessly parted in an ecstasy of plea- sure. " Why have you hidden your talent V said Sir Peter. " You have been here a month without our finding out that you could sing a note." " Pray sing ag^in," said Lady Yerschoyle. " I must obey if you command." " How ? — Why ?" The dim shadow of long lost naivete came across her thorough- bred features. " You have every right as the first dis- coverer. What shall it be ?" 2 70 EUNICE. "English," said Eunice, so low that only his quick ears caught the word. " Charming," said Lady Yerschoyle, softly, as rising after the song, Harold came towards her, apparently without a glance at Eunice's soul-wrapt face. " I warn you that we shall lay you under contribution for your delightful gift very often at Fairjfields. I have settled it all ; you are to come over with Miss Grantley." He felt very happy ; this visit had been hanging over him like the shadow of a bad dream ; but often our bugbears prove our truest friends. " Trenton will have a heavy burthen on its conscience if it inflicts that man on the ' House,' " said Lord Yerschoyle, in marital confidence, as he and his wife rolled luxuriously homewards half an hour later, drawn by their high -mettled chestnuts. " He will never get in," she answered, confidently ; " he is so low and vulgar." EUNICE. 271 " That only increases his chances ; most of the voters are low and vulgar, too. The masses have more sympathy and goodwill for a half-bred rascal who does wrong cleverly, than for the gentleman who ex- hibits feebleness though in the right. What could have induced Grantley to take him up ?" "Let it pass, Gervase," said his wife, with an expressive shrug ; ''we call a nettle but a nettle, and the folly of fools but foUy." "And what made you ask that young Hamage here ? You might have had plenty for your foolery without setting a nice young fellow like that out of his place." " Oh ! we must have this romantic, poetic, love-breathing tutor; he is the very thing for the part." " You only study yourself; no good will come of it," repHed her husband, yawning hugely. 272 EUNICE. Her lord's approbation being a point she seldom troubled herself about, she did not give this prophecy a second thought ; she was quite satisfied as far as Harold was concerned ; his good intonation, and the firm yet modest manner in which he ex- pressed his opinions, his delightful gift of singing, all gave promise that the part of Iwan would be ably performed. She was rather disquieted about the invitation to Mr. Pyke, but deferred the disclosure of that piece of wilful independence to a more convenient season ; it would be un- kind to interfere with her lord's slumbers, on which he had now entered formally. ^. END OF VOL. I. x\ UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 084217428 mmimm