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 THE STORY OF HELEN DAYENANT.
 
 THE STORY OF 
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 BY 
 
 YIOLET FANE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP " DENZIL PLACE," " SOPHY, OR THE ADVENTURES OF A SAVAGE,' 
 " THROUGH LOVE AND WAR," ETC., ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: CHAPMAN and HALL 
 
 Limited 
 
 1889 
 
 [^All Rights reserved.']
 
 WESTMINSTER : 
 
 PRINTED BY UICHOLS AND SONS, 
 
 25, PARLIAMENT STREET.
 
 u / 
 
 COfi* 2- 
 
 I 
 
 V) 
 
 TO MY 
 
 DEAR AND DISTINGUISHED FRIEND, 
 ALEXANDER WILLIAM KINGLAKE, 
 
 THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 
 DEDICATED.
 
 THE STORY OF 
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 I WAS little more than six years old when 
 I was unexpectedly summoned to what 
 proved to be my mother's death-bed. She 
 had been indisposed for a few days only, 
 remaining in her room for the greater part 
 of the morning ; but I do not think there 
 could have been any suspicion in the house 
 that her end was approaching. I have since 
 heard that my father, Sir Harry Davenant, 
 a sporting country gentleman of the old 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE STORY OF 
 
 school, had started off early in the morning 
 for the chase, having made arrangements 
 for a reinforcement of hunters, so that he 
 had evidently intended to be absent during 
 the greater part of the day. Also, Mr. 
 Collin gwood, a neighbour and friend, had 
 been invited to dine and sleep. Sir Harry 
 was said to be devotedly attached to his wife, 
 and he would certainly not have absented 
 himself from her side if he had been aware 
 that she was in any danger, nor would he 
 have desired to receive even an intimate 
 friend at dinner at so sad a time. 
 
 I had been playing alone in my nursery, 
 after a somewhat pensive and desultory 
 fashion, with none of those noisy rompings 
 and scamperings which shake the floors 
 and wear out the carpets of more populous 
 nurseries. I was merely sitting quietly 
 upon the hearth-rug, building up little 
 temples and pyramids with wooden bricks,
 
 HELEN D^VENANT. O 
 
 and then knocking them down again, with- 
 out feeling much interest in my occupation. 
 Then Celestine Vigon, my mother's new 
 Prench maid — who, I remember, was young, 
 dark, and foreign-looking, and wore long 
 gold earrings — appeared at the nursery door, 
 and, after saying a few words, in broken 
 English, to Mrs. Mason, my nurse, led me 
 by the hand ti my mother's bed-room, 
 which was situated quite at the other end 
 of the house. 
 
 I have heard, since, that my mother was 
 one of the most beautiful women of her 
 day, and I well remember how lovely she 
 appeared, to my childish gaze, on this last 
 occasion on which I beheld her. 
 
 She was sitting, propped up by pillows, 
 in the large four-post bed, dressed only in 
 some sort of white wrapper, with her dark 
 hair drawn back from her face, and hanging 
 in long tresses over her shoulders. She 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE STOUY OF 
 
 seemed to me to look wonderfully younj^ 
 and girlish for a mother, but she had grown 
 much paler and thinner, I thought, since 
 the morning, and her eyes had an anxious 
 and unhappy expression. 
 
 ''Look here, little Nelly," she said, as 
 soon as Celestine had left us. " You have 
 always been a dear, obedient little girl. . . . 
 Pay attention to what I'm saying now, for 
 I feel very faint, and can't talk much. 
 Open the side door of that wardrobe there, 
 and do exactly as I tell you.'' 
 
 I went to the wardrobe. It was unlocked, 
 and the door opened quite easily. At first, 
 I could see nothing, inside it, but beautiful 
 evening dresses of many colours, some of 
 which I had seen my mother wearing before 
 she was so much confined to her room. 
 
 " Lift up the skirts of those dresses," she 
 said, " and, behind them, you will see a large 
 box."
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 5 
 
 I did as I was bid, and perceived a square 
 black box, quite at the back of the cup- 
 board. I drew it forward and attempted 
 to lift it. 
 
 " Oh, don't do that ! " cried my mother 
 from the bed ; *' it's much too heavy for 
 you ! . . . Come here and take this key.'' 
 
 I observed that, as she spoke, she was 
 drawing off a long chain from her neck. 
 A gold key was attached to it, and she 
 handed me both key and chain together. 
 
 This act seemed to cost her a supreme 
 effort. She sank back amongst her pillows 
 as though exhnusted, 
 
 " Push the key into the lock quite 
 straight," she said, by-and-bye. " Press it 
 inwards as far as you can, and then turn 
 it." 
 
 What with the darkness of the cupboard, 
 however, which was obscured by a large 
 picture-screen standing to the left of the
 
 6 THE STORY OF 
 
 bed, and the long chain, which kept on 
 catching in the laces and fringes of the 
 dresses, I found it no very easy matter to 
 do as I was bid. 
 
 **Make haste, dear!" exclaimed my 
 mother anxiously, " before Celestine comes 
 back with my soup ! She might not like 
 to see you meddling with my things ! " 
 
 Child as I was, I perceived that she was 
 intensely agitated, and became aware that 
 my mission, whatever it was, must be one 
 of importance. 
 
 At last I succeeded in unlocking the box, 
 and lifting up the lid. 
 
 " The box has come open," I said, turn- 
 ing to my mother from where I sat on the 
 floor. 
 
 She was looking dreadfully pale, and her 
 voice sounded quite feeble as she answered : 
 
 '' There are two packets just at the top — 
 letters. One of them is tied round with
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 7 
 
 black ribbon — from your poor uncle Everard, 
 directed to me before I was married ; and 
 the other — ah, you can't read ! " 
 
 She said this in a tone of disappointment 
 — almost of despair. 
 
 It was too true ! I hung my head in 
 bitter humiliation. 
 
 Eeading, at this period of my life, seemed 
 to be fraught with insurmountable difficul- 
 ties, and the mjstery of written characters 
 appeared to me to be even more inscrutable 
 than that of printed type. • 
 
 " You must throw one of those two 
 packets into the fire," continued my mother 
 earnestly, " before Celestine comes back, 
 and see that it is quite burnt up, and then 
 lock up the box and don't say anything 
 about it to anybody. Bring me the letters 
 that have got red seals on them here." 
 
 I found the two packets, compared them 
 carefully, and observed that the letters in
 
 8 THE STORY OF 
 
 the thickest packet — that which was not 
 tied round with hlack rihbon — were all of 
 them sealed with red wax. 
 
 '' There is a little horse with wings upon 
 the seals/' I said, when I had finished 
 examining them. 
 
 " Quick ! quick ! " gasped my mother, 
 " or it will be too late ! Bring me them 
 here, and let me look at them." 
 
 But the split-ring, upon the long gold 
 chain, had become entangled in the black 
 ribbon binding the smaller packet, and my 
 hurry seemed only to make my childish 
 fingers the more helpless and awkward. I 
 daresay, however, that not more than two 
 or three minutes elapsed, in reality, before 
 I had achieved my purpose, and stood, with 
 the packet of sealed letters in my hand, 
 at the side of my mother's bed. 
 
 I remember that I was so small, at this 
 time, that the bed seemed to rise up before
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 9 
 
 me like a great snow mountain. My e3^es 
 could only just have come above the level 
 of the counterpane. 
 
 I was an impressionable child, and my 
 hands trembled with excitement. I felt 
 that, for the first time in my short life, I had 
 been entrusted with something important 
 and mysterious, and I was swelling with 
 consequential pride at the notion of having 
 been unmistakeably useful to the being I 
 loved and respected most upon earth. 
 
 But, just as I was expecting words of 
 commendation and approval, I was disap- 
 pointed to find that my mother had, appa- 
 rently, either fainted, or fallen into a deep 
 sleep. 
 
 Peeling somewhat uncertain with regard 
 to her directions, and fearing lest Cclestine 
 might return before I had fulfilled them to 
 the letter, I called softly to her. She did 
 not reply.
 
 10 THE STORY OF 
 
 I raised my voice, but still she remained 
 silent. 
 
 I now fancied that I heard the peculiar 
 squeaking sound made by the swing-door at 
 the end of the passage. Celestine must be re- 
 turning, I thought, with the soup ; so, finding 
 that it was impossible to awaken my mother, 
 I hastily decided upon a plan of action. 
 
 Until now I had not felt sure which of 
 the two packets was to be consigned to the 
 flames. But, after summoning all my wits 
 to my aid, I arrived at what I thought must 
 be the right conclusion. My mother had 
 requested that the letters with the pretty red 
 seals should be brought to her in her bed. 
 These then, without doubt, were those she 
 desired to preserve, whilst the letters of my 
 poor uncle Everard — her only brother, who 
 had been killed in the Crimean War — were, 
 for some mysterious reason, to be imme- 
 diately desti'oyed.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 11 
 
 There was not a moment to be lost, for I 
 could hear what I conceived to be Celes- 
 tine's footsteps approaching rapidly. 
 
 A bright fire was burning in the wide, 
 old-fashioned grate. I dived into the cup- 
 board for the second time, brought forth 
 my uncle Everard's letters, and running to 
 the fire-place cast them, bound together as 
 they were, into '* the burning fiery fur- 
 nace." 
 
 After ail, the approaching footsteps were 
 not those of Celestine. They passed hj 
 the door and went on to the end of the 
 passage. One of the other servants, pro- 
 bably. This gave me a little more time 
 for reflection. 
 
 I had left the other packet of letters upon 
 the outside of the bed. It now occurred to 
 me that, by placing them inside the coverlid, 
 dose to one of my mother's hands, she would 
 find what she had asked for immediately upon
 
 12 THE STORY OF 
 
 awakening. I acted upon this impulse at 
 once, and I had scarcely re-locked the black 
 box, when I was again aware of the squeak- 
 ing of the swing-door. 
 
 This time it was really Celestine with the 
 soup, for I could hear the cup rattling 
 against the saucer as she approached the 
 door. 
 
 When she re-entered the room, the cup- 
 board presented its usual appearance, and I 
 had just had time to slip the gold chain, 
 with the key, inside the bed-clothes, within 
 easy reach of my mother's hand. 
 
 As Celestine opened the door I saw 
 Mason, my nurse, standing just outside it, 
 wearing her bonnet and shawl. She 
 beckoned to me, and, knowing that it was 
 past the liour for my accustomed afternoon 
 walk, I went to lier at once. 
 
 As soon as I had been warmly wrapped 
 up in my new winter pelisse, we proceeded
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 13 
 
 by way of the avenue towards one of the 
 lodge gates. 
 
 Mason seemed, I thought, to be un- 
 usually preoccupied, and beyond a few con- 
 ventional phrases, such as nurses are in the 
 habit of addressing to their youthful charges, 
 she spoke but little. 
 
 J, too, after a childish fashion, was pre- 
 occupied. I was thinking of the mysterious 
 service I had just been called upon to render 
 my mother, and wondering why she should 
 have been so anxious to destroy my uncle* 
 Everard's letters before the return of Ce- 
 lestine. 
 
 Since that time, many musings and con- 
 jectures have possessed me when thinking 
 over the events of this day, and I have 
 found myself wondering whether there 
 would have been any very marked di (Terence 
 in the ordering of my destiny if, instead of 
 burning the letters that were bound round
 
 14 THE STORY OF 
 
 with black ribbon, I had been mercifully 
 inspired to do away with those that were 
 sealed with the red seals. Upon such 
 problems, however, it is vain to speculate. 
 
 My mother's death occurred towards the 
 middle of the month of December. Th<i 
 day w^as fine and somew^hat frosty. There 
 had been sunshine in the morning, but by 
 the time that Mason and I set out for our 
 afternoon walk, the best of the day was 
 over. Upon arriving at the lodge, there- 
 fore, my nurse decided that we should go 
 no further. 
 
 As we turned to retrace our steps I saw 
 Tom Pearse, one of Sir Harry's grooms, 
 riding towards us at full speed. The home 
 of my childhood was situated amongst the 
 beechwoods of a line of down, extending for 
 some miles along the sea-coast, and the 
 roadway of the avenue, as well as the 
 garden- walks, w^as strewn with sifted sea-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 16 
 
 shingle instead of the ordinary inland gravel. 
 A horse passing over this quickly, produced 
 a kind of crisp, metallic, crunching sound, 
 which I can always summon at will to my 
 mind's ear. More especially can I recall 
 the impression caused by the sound of it 
 upon this particular day — together with the 
 sudden manner in which Tom reined in his 
 horse with a heightening of the shoulders, 
 and one or two uncomfortable bumpings 
 upon the saddle, when he came to the lodge 
 and shouted out " Gate !" • 
 
 This Tom Pearse was rather a favourite 
 of mine. He had charge of my new pony, 
 and it was his custom to conduct me to its 
 loose-box whenever I went to the stables to 
 pat and feed my little pet. 
 
 I ran back to the gate now, perceiving 
 that he seemed in so great a hurry, and 
 pushed it open for him, assisted by my 
 nurse. Before proceeding upon his way, he
 
 16 THE STORY OY 
 
 called her to him, and leaning down, mut- 
 tered something in a low voice. I could 
 only catch the word '^doctor" from where 
 I was standing. He put spurs to his horse 
 as soon as he got outside upon the high 
 road, and was quickly out of sight. 
 
 Mason appeared to be a good deal per- 
 turbed by what he had told her. She said 
 nothing about it to me, however, and we 
 continued our homeward way in silence. 
 
 Upon entering the house, my nurse pro- 
 ceeded at once upstairs, instead of lingering 
 with me, as she usually did, before a large 
 cage of goldfinches and canaries which 
 stood in the hall close to the entrance of 
 my mother's sitting-room. 
 
 I was an only child and a spoilt one, and 
 was allowed at this time to do very much 
 as I liked ; so, having provided myself 
 with plantain and chick weed during my 
 .walk, I remained in the hall feeding
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 17 
 
 the birds instead of following my nurse 
 upstairs. 
 
 Matthews, the old butler, looking glum 
 and pompous as usual, came twice into the 
 hall whilst I was standing by the birdcage. 
 He went to the front- door, looked out, and 
 appeared to listen. Probably this was 
 about the hour at which he expected my 
 father to return. 
 
 Whilst I was feeding the birds, I thought 
 a great deal about my mother, ])ut I did not 
 feel the slightest anxiety as to her condi-* 
 tion. I imagined, in those early days, that 
 all deaths were of necessity violent. The 
 stories Mason used to read to me — '' Who 
 Killed Cock Robin ?" '' Toodle-cum-too and 
 the Hungry Tom-cat,'' '' Jack the Giant- 
 Killer," " Blue-Beard," and others of the 
 same sort, served to confirm me in this 
 opinion. I fancied that people died because 
 they were shot with arrows, devoured by 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE STORY OF 
 
 wild beasts, or had their heads cut off. Of 
 the tranquil and unexpected passing away 
 of the spirit, the falling into the eternal 
 slumber whilst lying comfortably in a soft 
 white bed, I had had, as yet, no experience 
 whatsoever, and I regarded an illness as 
 merely one of the necessary preliminaries 
 to getting well. 
 
 Before I had left my place at the bird- 
 cage, I again detected the peculiar sound 
 caused by the approach of horses' hoofs 
 upon the shingle. I ran to the door, and 
 perceived my father returning by precisely 
 the opposite direction to that which Tom 
 Pearse had taken about half-an-hour ago. 
 He was accompanied by a friend, called 
 George CoUingwood — the eldest surviving 
 son of our neighbour. Lord Silchester — the 
 friend who had been invited to dine and 
 sleep. 
 
 They both wore red coats, and as they
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 19 
 
 emerged together from under the dark 
 evergreens, which formed an archway over 
 the road, I was struck, young as I was, 
 by the picturesqueness of their appearance. 
 I was under the impression, at this period, 
 that Mr. Collingwood was my parents' 
 dearest and truest friend, because, ever 
 since I could remember anything at all, 
 he had visited us from time to time, and 
 had always been welcomed with cordi- 
 ality. ^ 
 Besides this, he was my godfather — and I 
 had been christened " Helen Collingwood." 
 I regarded him, in fact, like a member of 
 our own family, and his visits — laden as he 
 invariably was, with the most delightful 
 presents for me — were always occasions for 
 rejoicing. He was engaged in diplomacy, 
 and attached, at this time, to one of our 
 Embassies abroad. This did not prevent 
 him, however, from frequently visiting his 
 
 c 2
 
 20 THE STORY OF 
 
 native land. His fatlicr was an old man, 
 and lie was a dutiful and attentive son. 
 Several times during the year, and almost 
 invariably at Christmas, lie used to return 
 to the home of his boyhood ; and upon 
 these occasions I think that we saw almost 
 as much of him as Lord Silchester himself. 
 He came frequently to luncheon and dinner. 
 Sometimes he would remain all night, and 
 he always passed some part of the time 
 playing with me in the nursery. 
 
 I went to the front door now — opened it, 
 and ran out to welcome the returning 
 hunters. Sir Harry, when he came back 
 from riding, used sometimes to set me up 
 in front of him on his horse, and take me a 
 few turns up and down, before dismounting. 
 It was for this treat that I Avas hoping now. 
 My father was talking and laughing with 
 Mr. Collingwood, and gesticulating with 
 his hunting-crop.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 21 
 
 " Well, little woman ! " he called out to 
 me, in cheery tones, " how's ' mama ' ? *' 
 
 But, before I had time to reply, I saw 
 Matthews, of whom I stood in great awe, 
 coming towards us from the house. 
 
 He went up to my father, and said some- 
 thing. My father uttered an exclamation, 
 and let the reins drop upon his horse's 
 neck. Matthews then made what was 
 evidently the same communication to Mr. 
 Collingwood, with very much the same 
 result. The horses seemed to pull up of 
 their own accord at the front door, and 
 Matthews assisted my father to dismount. 
 Mr. Collingwood dismounted likewise, and 
 gave the reins to the coachman, who was in 
 waiting. 
 
 My father held out his hand towards 
 him with a gesture like that of a despairing 
 man who craves for a friend's sympathy. 
 Mr. Collingwood wrung it in silence. Botb
 
 ZZ THE STORY OF 
 
 he and Sir llarry were looking as pale as 
 death, and they went up the steps together, 
 hand in hand, staggering like drunken 
 men. 
 
 I know now — for I have mingled with 
 my own childish reminiscences much that 
 is the result of after-knowledge — that 
 although my mother had, by this time, 
 breathed her last, Matthews had not ven- 
 tured to tell my father that she was really 
 dead, dreading the effect which might have 
 been produced upon him by the suddenness 
 of the news, and preferring to leave this 
 responsibility to the doctor, who was mo- 
 mentarily expected. He had, however, 
 informed Sir Harry and Mr. Collingwood 
 that she had become rapidly worse during 
 the afternoon — that she appeared to be 
 gradually sinking, and was now uncon- 
 scious. Notwithstanding this caution on 
 the butler's part, the effect produced upon
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 23 
 
 my father by the intelligence he had just 
 received was distressing in the extreme. 
 Matthews and Mr. CoUingwood — who 
 seemed also terribly affected — had to almost 
 carry him upstairs. He walked as if his 
 limbs had suddenly been turned into lead. 
 
 I followed close behind them, frightened 
 and wondering, and saw them all three go 
 down the passage to the door of my 
 mother's bed-room. 
 
 Matthews opened the door a little way^ 
 and seemed to be gently thrusting my 
 father into the apartment. He appeared 
 to shrink, however, from going into the 
 room alone. Twice I saw him reel back- 
 wards from the door. Then, as if summon- 
 ing all his courage, he clutched Mr. Col- 
 ling wood by the shoulder, as though for 
 support, and the two went together into 
 the chamber of death. 
 
 Matthews came down the passage soon
 
 24s THE STOTIY OF 
 
 afterwards. I looked at him appcalingly, 
 hoping that he would tell me what had 
 happened. He took no notice of me, how- 
 ever, hut marched solemnly on. His face 
 looked vacant and inscrutahle, and I felt 
 too awed and frightened to question 
 him. 
 
 As soon as he w^as out of sight I went 
 down the passage, and hovered outside my 
 mother's room, longing, and yet not daring, 
 to enter. 
 
 In a few minutes the door opened. 
 
 " Leave me alone with her, George," I 
 could hear my father saying, in a broken 
 voice — " I feel that I can bear it now%" and 
 Mr. Collingwood came out into the pas- 
 sage. 
 
 He seemed to be br(;athing very hard, 
 but it was nearly dark now, so that I could 
 not see the expression of his face. 
 
 He perceived me when he came to where
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 25 
 
 I was standing — caught me up in his arms, 
 and kissed me passionately. When he set 
 me down again, I felt that my cheeks were 
 quite wet, as if with tears.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 My mother, I have heard, had been united 
 to Sir Harry Davenant when she was barely 
 twenty, he being her senior by precisely this 
 number of years. She apparently married 
 him chiefly on account of his importunity. 
 He had proposed to her several times and 
 had been refused; but it seems that his 
 ardour would brook no denial. The mar- 
 riage, however, was said to have been a 
 happy one. At the time of my mother's 
 death they had been married about ten 
 years, my birth having taken place some 
 three years after their union.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 27 
 
 In common with most of the owners of 
 entailed property. Sir Harry had hoped for 
 a son to inherit his name and estates. Up 
 to this time, however, there seemed to be 
 no reason why this hope should not be 
 gratified, and, in the meanwhile, I do not 
 think he could have petted and indulged 
 
 me more than he did, even if I had been a 
 
 » 
 
 boy. 
 
 Eailing a son, the house and estate of 
 Northover Park were settled upon my first 
 cousin, Courtenay Davenant, at this time a 
 schoolboy in his teens. I had a dim recol- 
 lection of a boy who came to us once, a 
 long time ago, to spend his holidays, but 
 could remember no more about him than 
 that he had arrived upon a wet day, wearing 
 a short jacket, no overcoat, a high hat and 
 black kid gloves, and that having had, I 
 suppose, reason to rub his nose, the damp 
 gloves had made a black mark upon it, of
 
 28 THE STORY OF 
 
 which he was totally unaware, and so bore 
 himself with great dignity notwithstanding. 
 lie must have been in mourning for liis 
 father at this time, and hence, probably, 
 the black kid gloves. I have no doubt that 
 he may have visited Northover both before 
 and after this, but I could only recall this 
 one occasion amongst the very earliest of 
 my recollections. 
 
 It was only natural that so sudden a 
 calamity as that which had befallen my 
 father, should have affected him painfully. 
 But its consequences were totally different 
 from what might have been expected. Prom 
 the day of his young wife's death. Sir Harry 
 Davenant become altogether a changed 
 man. Grief, which, with most sensitive 
 natures, is prone to soften the heart and 
 enlarge the sympathies, seemed, in his case, 
 to have produced a directly contrary effect. 
 It was as though his whole being had sud-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 29 
 
 denly become hardened and demoralized, 
 and the transition was made to appear the 
 more surprising and, unaccountable, from the 
 fact of his having quitted England imme- 
 diately after my mother's funeral, whither 
 he did not return for the space of nearly 
 two years, transformed, as I have just 
 remarked, into an utterly new creature. 
 
 When^ upon the day of my mother's 
 death, Sir Harry had ridden home from 
 hunting with Mr. Collingwood, a more 
 genial, pleasant-looking country gentleman 
 it Avould have been scarcely possible to 
 behold. He must have been hard upon fifty 
 at this time, but he appeared to be a 
 good deal younger. He was tall and 
 somewhat heavily built ; his features were, 
 perhaps, rather too masiivc^ and undefined 
 to be positively handsome, but he had a 
 frank, rosy, clean - shaved, English face, 
 merry grey eyes, and a set of magnificent
 
 30 THE STORY OF 
 
 teeth. In a word, his whole aspect was 
 jovial, hearty, and prepossessing. 
 
 How am I to describe the changed being 
 who returned, two years afterwards, from 
 abroad, without seeming to exaggerate ? 
 
 This new man was tall and large-framed 
 it is true, but yet not seeming nearly so tall 
 as my father, several inches of his height 
 being sacrificed to a decided stoop, and he 
 was so thin that his clothes appeared to 
 have all become too big for him. He had 
 grown a coarse straggling beard, which 
 entirely altered the character and propor- 
 tion of his face, and his curly dark hair 
 was now thin and grizzled. His eyes were 
 hollow and bloodshot, and had a restless, 
 suspicious expression, entirely at variance 
 with their frank, fearless, gaze, in the past. 
 One might have imagined that he was either 
 suffering from the remorse consequent upon 
 some hidden crime, or that he was con-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 31 
 
 scious of being undermined by some fatal 
 disease; 
 
 So much for the change which had taken 
 place in his appearance. Alas, in disposition 
 he had altered even more than in face ! 
 
 He had become surly, morose, and uncom- 
 municative ; went out usually at twilight, 
 or else so early in the morning as to run no 
 chance of falling in with any of his former 
 neighbours and friends, for he seemed to 
 have grown suspicious and mistrustful of 
 everybody. He would ride sometimes — 
 after a reckless, purposeless fashion — tiring 
 out several horses in the course of the same 
 day ; at others, he would not stir out of 
 doors once during the week. He went to 
 bed at odd times ; sitting up, generally, for 
 more than half the night in a subterranean 
 portion of the house where he had now 
 established himself, and which was as 
 far as possible from the clieerful apart-
 
 32 THE STORY OF 
 
 mcnts he had inhabited with my poor 
 mother. In fact, it was as though every- 
 thing that could remind him of his dead 
 wife, instead of inspiring him with senti- 
 ments of tender regret, had grown positively 
 hateful to him. 
 
 Towards myself, for instance, he no longer 
 manifested the slightest affection. When, 
 thinking to rouse him from his fits of 
 solitary musing, the faithful Mason would 
 take me to pay him a visit in his gloomy 
 retreat, he used, generally, to order me up 
 again to my nursery, in tones that filled me 
 with terror, or else, upon occasions when he 
 suffered me to stay with him, he would take 
 no notice of me whatsoever, but remain 
 moodily writing at his table, or sitting with 
 his head buried in his hands. It soon 
 became painfully evident to his liousehold 
 that there existed another cause for Sir 
 Harry's altered manner and appearance
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 33 
 
 besides the grief wliicli was presumably 
 gnawing at his heart. In order, no doubt, 
 to escape from the melancholy regrets 
 which crowded upon him in his desolation 
 my father had taken to drinking. In the 
 past, it seems, he had had some tendency 
 this way, which my mother's refining in- 
 fluence had been enabled to restrain within 
 the limits of convivial joviality. Ead habits, 
 however, like ill-weeds, " grow apace," and 
 now that this restraint was removed, he 
 seemed to have entirely lost all power of 
 self-control. In the evening, in fact, he 
 was scarcely ever sober, and his temper, 
 when he was under this baneful and 
 degrading influence, became violent and 
 irritable in the extreme. 
 
 This painful state of things increased as I 
 grew in stature, until, by the time that I 
 was ten years old, my father was generally 
 spoken of in the neighbourhood as " poor 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 Sir Harry," whilst his former friends would 
 tap their foreheads significantly when- 
 ever they had occasion to mention his 
 name.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I WILL pass over the uneventful days of my 
 childhood/ and resume my narrative at the 
 period when I was between sixteen and 
 seventeen years of age. 
 
 Ever since I was about thirteen I had 
 had a governess— Miss Warden by name ; 
 my existence, consequently, from this time, 
 had been much less desolate. 
 
 I do not know who could first have sug- 
 gested to Sir Harry that a governess would 
 be essential to my welfare — my welfare 
 appeared now to concern him so very little. 
 He held no kind of communication with 
 
 d2
 
 36 THE STORY OF 
 
 any of our neighbours, at the same time he 
 seemed to be hardly rational enough to have 
 evolved the notion from his own brain. 
 Perhaps he may have received an applica- 
 tion or recommendation upon the subject 
 from some one who pitied my forlorn con- 
 dition, and as he was now frequently absent 
 from home, it may have occurred to him, in 
 a lucid interval, that if he secured the 
 services of some lady who could serve as my 
 chaperon and instructress, he would save 
 himself both trouble and responsibility in 
 the future. 
 
 Miss Warden, at this time, was a lady of 
 what is termed "an uncertain age," between 
 thirty-five and forty-five, that is to say, 
 as far as I could judge by her appearance. 
 She was plain, both in figure and feature, 
 but with a plainness which was not in the 
 least displeasing. She had large, kind, 
 brown eyes, an irregular nose, a swarthy
 
 nELEN DAVENANT. 37 
 
 complexion, and a wide mouth, wliicli, "how- 
 ever, seemed to be always smiling. 
 
 What a gushing, enthusiastic, tender- 
 hearted creature she was ! Many people, I 
 daresay, might have called her a foolish 
 woman. Her very womanliness, however, 
 stood her in good stead sometimes, enabling 
 her, through a sort of intuitive feminine 
 instinct (given us, as she was wont to 
 inform me, in order to protect us from 
 man — though I hardly think that she 
 could have had much need of any such 
 protection), to arrive at tolerably correct 
 conclusions without the aid of reason. 
 
 Her worst failing was, perhaps — seeing 
 that I possessed the same weakness myself, 
 and that she was in the position of my 
 mentor — that she was so incorrigibly 
 romantic, and expectant for ever of some 
 dramatic and sensational occurrence. As 
 yet, indeed, there had been little in her life
 
 38 THE STOEY OF 
 
 at JSTorthover to justify these expectations, 
 but, failing the combinations and complica- 
 tions wliich are usually favourable to tbe 
 development of romantic situations, she 
 would fasten eagerly upon the very scantiest 
 food in order to minister to this insatiable 
 craving. We could not fall in with the 
 village apothecary during our walks, or 
 receive a visit from the new curate, with- 
 out a declaration upon her part that " the 
 plot " was " decidedly thickening," whilst 
 an excusable personal vanity, mingling 
 with the sincere affection she bore me, 
 caused her to regard as imminent the advent 
 of handsome and desirable suitors for us 
 both. 
 
 Our days, at about this time, were ordered 
 somewhat after the following fashion : — 
 
 Supposing that the weather was fine, we 
 generally repaired out of doors soon after 
 breakfast, where I went through as many
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 39 
 
 of my studies as could be conveniently 
 pursued there, in an old-fashioned summer- 
 house (a favourite resort, as I was told, of 
 my poor mother's), at one end of the 
 terraced flower-garden. Then we returned 
 to the house, where I used to practice music 
 and drawing, in which accomplishments I 
 soon out-distanced my instructress, having 
 some natural taste for the arts to which 
 she had only been driven by the require- 
 ments of her calling. She had not much 
 love, I fancy, either, for serious study, 
 and our holidays and half-holidays proved 
 greater treats to her than they did to me. 
 She was cheerful and sociable by nature, 
 delighting in conversation and gossip, 
 whereas, at this time, I was somewhat 
 inclined towards solitude. But for the 
 voluminous letters which she was in the 
 habit of writing home to an aged mother, 
 however, I doubt whether I should have
 
 40 THE STOHY OP 
 
 been often able to indulge myself in this 
 respect. I was very fond of day-dreaming 
 and castle-building. My mind seemed, at 
 this time, to be teeming with all sorts of 
 fantastic and picturesque visions, and I 
 liked to have leisure to dwell upon these, 
 and to set them in some kind of order. 
 
 I was enabled to arrive at this end in two 
 ways, supposing that the weather favoured 
 my designs. 
 
 I was enthusiastically fond of riding, 
 whilst, next to my poor father (of whom 
 she had always stood in the greatest terror), 
 and after dogs, cows, oxen, and all horned 
 creatures. Miss Warden's keenest apprehen- 
 sions seemed to be associated with the horse. 
 She had never ridden in her life, and felt 
 nervous, she said, in every kind of vehicle 
 excepting an omnibus. By ordering my 
 horse, therefore, I could always escape from 
 my governess's amiable prattle. At other
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 41 
 
 times, when I experienced this inordinate 
 craving for solitude and self-examination, 
 I used to sally forth, whilst] Miss Warden 
 was writing home, laden with my drawing 
 materials; and, once out of doors, I would 
 plunge into the most inaccessible thicket- 
 or make my way towards that part of the 
 park which was furthest from the hoase, 
 thus effectually eluding my governess when 
 she came out to seek for me. 
 
 During these solitary rides and rambles — 
 for my old friend Tom Pearse, promoted 
 now to the place of coachman, only accom- 
 panied me riding when I went outside the 
 park, or in a direction where there were 
 gates to open — I used to muse upon a 
 variety of different subjects. 
 
 Prom the moment when I had at length 
 mastered the mystery of reading, I de- 
 voured, with the greatest avidity, most of 
 the romances which I found in the well-
 
 42 THE STORY OF 
 
 stocked library at Nortliovcr House. Some 
 of these I did not wholly comprehend at 
 the time, some, perhaps, it would have 
 been better had I never comprehended 
 at all. 
 
 Having begun by poring eagerly over 
 such works as treated of brigands, ghosts, 
 kniglit-errants, and perilous adventures, I 
 had come, as I advanced towards woman's 
 estate, to prefer those of a more natural 
 kind, descriptive of events which did not 
 seem to be too improbable of occurrence. 
 I delighted in passionate love-scenes, and 
 usually became desperately enamoured of 
 the hero of my book very soon after making 
 his acquaintance. In this respect, indeed, 
 I was dangerously susceptible, and terribly 
 unfaithful as well, to my book-loves, my 
 heart often warming towards more than one 
 character in the same novel. I remember 
 that I was in love with " Ivanhoe," for
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 43 
 
 instance, and the Knight Templar, in spite 
 of his lawless ferocity, at the same time. 
 '^ The Master of Ravenswood," I confess, 
 reigned, whilst he reigned at all, supreme 
 in my affections ; hut I succumhed, very 
 soon afterwards, to the hrutal fascinations 
 of " Mr. E;Ochester " (so rarely alluded to as 
 " Edward " hy the humhle little heroine !), 
 upon his black horse *' Mesrour/' and was 
 never in the least surprised that *^Jane 
 Eyre" should have preferred him — mad 
 wife and all — to the saintly and ascetic- 
 St. John, so egotistically intent upon the 
 salvation of his own soul ! " Eugene 
 Aram," however, supplanted him before 
 long in my affections. I remember how 
 miserable I felt when he was found dead 
 in his prison cell, and that my melancholy 
 was greatly intensified by the knowledge 
 that his tragical story was founded upon 
 fact.
 
 4ii THE STOllY OF 
 
 So I used to read on and on, identifying 
 myself, to an almost painful degree, with 
 the joys and sorrows of these and of many 
 other creatures of the imagination. I liked 
 my books, at this time, to be long, in order 
 that I miglit become thoroughly acquainted 
 with the personages described, and would 
 toil through romances which I have found it 
 impossible even to skim at a later period — 
 books which would rejoice the heart, no 
 doubt, of some shipw^recked Crusoe, w4th 
 unlimited time upon his hands, if they could 
 be cast on shore with the tinned meats, but 
 for the reading of which the crowded and 
 hurried days of an ordinary existence seem 
 to be hardly long enough. 
 
 I had a decided preference for heroes 
 about whom, there clung any shadow of 
 mystery — of weirdness — or the suspicion of 
 undiscovered crime. I liked to read of how 
 they shrank from giving their guilty right
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 45 
 
 hands in greeting, or went about, chiefly at 
 midnight, shrouded in long black cloaks, 
 and to feel that they were living under some 
 sort of terrible ban. 
 
 The romantic and impressionable Miss 
 Warden was the last person in the world to 
 check this somewhat dangerous leaning, 
 which was, I hope, rather the result of an 
 active and vivid imagination than of any 
 morbid craving for sensational horrors. She 
 shared, in truth, the same weakness herself, 
 and was, moreover, a sincere believer in* 
 ghosts, omens, and all those incomprehen- 
 sible marvels which are spoken of, incon- 
 gruously, as " the supernatural." 
 
 She used frequently to tell my fortune 
 a^; well as her own, with cards, in order to 
 penetrate the veil in which our future was 
 shrouded. To do her justice, she seemed to 
 be quite as anxious for my happiness and 
 prosperity as for her own. I never com-
 
 4G THE STORY OF 
 
 pletely mastered her manner of proceeding, 
 altliongh I have listened hundreds of times 
 to her predictions, for, unless anything sho 
 said came like a response to what was 
 already in my mind, I did not pay much 
 attention to her prophetic utterances or to 
 the method employed. 
 
 As far as I can remember, however, after 
 shuffling the cards, she would give them 
 into my hands and ask me to wish. After 
 wishing, I used to cut them and hand them 
 back to her, and she would then spread 
 them out upon the table, sometimes massed 
 together in a compact square, sometimes in 
 the form of a fan ; after which she would 
 begin to count, a performance which had to 
 be repeated several times. 
 
 I, meanwhile, sat pencil in hand, ready to 
 set down upon paper what fell from the lips 
 of the sybil. I came upon one of these 
 scraps of paper quite recently, as I was
 
 nELEN DAVENANT. 47 
 
 looking over some old letters. The predic- 
 tions recorded upon it must have been 
 written down soon after this time, and by 
 referring to it I am enabled to give the 
 reader some notion of Miss Warden's 
 system. 
 
 " One, two, three, four, five " (she would 
 say, tapping each successive card with the 
 tip of a paper-knife, which she used as a 
 diviner's rod). ^* Ah ! here is yourself, 
 surrounded by company, chiefly composed 
 of women ; not all of them are well-disposed' 
 towards you. Some of them seem to be 
 jealous, — but here is a fair man (king of 
 hearts) with most excellent intentions ! 
 One, two, three, four, five. Yes ! He is 
 very well off— a bachelor — did not make 
 his money, but inherited it — spends it 
 freely — chiefly upon himself — a man with 
 a title — occupies a distinguished position 
 abroad" (counting). *' Ah ! I thought so !
 
 48 TUE STORY OF 
 
 He loves you tenderly ! A powerful and 
 devoted friend — would do anything to 
 obtain your affection. More devoted, at 
 present, to you than you are to him. But 
 now who is this other man just at his 
 elbow?" (counting). "Ah! the influence 
 of this man will not be beneficial to you ! 
 He is a man of double character, and 
 utterly unscrupulous ! He will exercise a 
 sinister efi'ect upon your destiny if you 
 permit him to become involved with it " 
 (counting). " Yes ! He appears to be 
 mixed up, or connected, in some way, with 
 the heart king, through a diamond woman 
 ol a very evil disposition. 
 
 ''These two men seem to be staying in 
 the same house, and you appear to be there 
 too, but the house is not your own home. 
 Possibly you may go somewhere on a visit, 
 or be invited to some kind of entertainment, 
 for I find you in the midst of company
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 49 
 
 again. Now for your wish!'* (counting). 
 *' It lias something to do with these two fair 
 kings. The diamond man seems, somehow, 
 to act as an impediment. Much delay and 
 vexation in store for you before you can 
 obtain it. Several long journeys. A shorter 
 journey first, with marriage at the end of it 
 (there, you see, is the ring). Journeying 
 again, from place to place — not altogether 
 pleasant journeys. Great surprise !" (count- 
 ing) '' of a very unpleasant and tragical 
 nature — (Do look at all those horrid black 
 cards !) — having to do with fair man, who 
 is surrounded by the worst cards. I must 
 see what all this means" (counting). ''Yes, 
 extremely unpleasant disclosures ! Vexa- 
 tions and humiliations, followed by death 
 of a spade man in good position, who is in 
 some way related to you, but has become 
 estranged — possibly your poor papa. More 
 journeys. Illness. Another death. Brilliant 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 assemblages. Tragic death of a fair man, 
 which will prove the greatest relief to you. 
 Same diamond woman with evil heart, who 
 is related to fair man, to be particularly 
 mistrusted. She will do yon au injury if 
 she can. Her macliinations are abominable. 
 Wish is connected with club king, who will 
 have recently changed his title and his 
 house. Obstacles. Scandals and back- 
 bitings. Another great surprise. More 
 journeyings. Pinal triumph, with realisa- 
 tion of wish," &c. &c. &c. 
 
 With so many varied incidents to select 
 from, it was not to be wondered at, perhaps, 
 if some of these random sentences may have 
 seemed, later on, to have had about them 
 the ring of true prophecy.
 
 CHAPTEU lY. 
 
 And George CoUingwood— my god-father, 
 my parents' dear friend, the man who, upon 
 the occasion of my pcor mother's death, had 
 wetted my infant cheek with his tears —had' 
 he never crossed our threshold since that 
 ever-to-he-rememhered day ? Not to my 
 knowledge. It is probable that Sir Harry, 
 who could not fail, when in his presence, to 
 be reminded of one of the most miserable 
 days of his life, may have purposely avoided 
 bringing about a meeting with him. Then, 
 too, Mr. CoUingwood, after acting as sec- 
 retary of Embassy at several European 
 
 E 2 
 
 UBRAW 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF HUNOT
 
 52 THE STORY OF 
 
 courts, had been appointed minister some- 
 where in South America — a post which he 
 had accepted with reluctance, and merely 
 as a stepping-stone to something nearer 
 home, for his father was now a very old 
 man, and he was anxious not to continue 
 so far away from him. In a few years he 
 was fortunate enough to get transferred to 
 a more eligible post, but he was too far off, 
 even now, to make it easy for him to visit 
 our neighbourhood very often ; it was not 
 wonderful, therefore, if I had never seen 
 him at North over since the sad occasion to 
 which 1 have referred. 
 
 Twice, however, during one of his flying 
 visits to England, I had fallen in with him 
 during my afternoon ride. 
 
 Upon the first occasion I was returning 
 home, after having been to our nearest town, 
 when he overtook me, riding, likewise, upon 
 the turnpike road. I had a good memory,
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 53 
 
 and lie seemed to me to be but little 
 altered. All the same, I am not sure 
 whether I should have recognised him as 
 I passed, had he not followed and greeted 
 me first. I was about fifteen or sixteen at 
 this time, I should think, so that about ten 
 years had elapsed since our last meeting. 
 Tom Pearse, however, in the Davenant 
 livery, was riding behind me, so tliat it 
 could not have required much effort on his 
 part to guess who I might be. 
 
 The affection I had felt for Mr. Colling- 
 wood when I was quite a little girl, seemed 
 to rush back into my heart when I looked 
 into his face, and saw his eyes seeking mine 
 with an unmistakeable expression of tender 
 emotion. He talked about old times, re- 
 minded me of the famous romps that we 
 used to have in the old nursery, inquired 
 whether my father was now at Northover, 
 made no allusion whatever to my mother,
 
 64 THE STORY OF 
 
 and then joarted with me at the lodge-gate, 
 after informing me that I was not in the 
 least changed, that ho would have known 
 me '' amongst a thousand," and that he 
 would make a point of riding the same way 
 upon the following afternoon, in the hope 
 of falling in with me again. 
 
 I met him next day, aecording to his 
 implied desire, and after riding for a short 
 way along the highroad we turned in at a 
 gate which led to a secluded part of his 
 father's park. 
 
 Perhaps I ought here to descrihe the 
 man whose name will have to appear so 
 frequently in this narrative. 
 
 At the time of which I am writing, 
 George Collingwood must have been about 
 five-and-forty. He looked however a great 
 deal younger, and, as he rode by my side 
 iipon his showy chestnut, I thought him 
 exceedingly handsome. My maturer judg-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 55 
 
 ment obliges me to confess, however, that 
 lie did not possess what could correctly be 
 termed a handsome feature in his whole 
 face, which owed its great charm to its 
 intelligence and mobility of expression. It 
 seemed, indeed, to be able to say anything 
 he W' ished to express without the assistance 
 of w^ords, and had the power of looking 
 happier, merrier, or more miserable, than 
 any other face I have since beheld. He 
 was tall and w^ell-built, fair-complexioned, 
 with expressive eyes, hair a little darker 
 than his moustaches, — but for which he w^as 
 clean shaved, — and was possessed of a par- 
 ticularly insinuating voice, manner, and 
 address. He had the reputation, as I have 
 since heard, of being '' utterly irresistible " 
 to women, and was supposed to have 
 broken hearts in almost every capital in 
 Europe. Small w^onder, therefore, if J, an in- 
 experienced girl of sixteen, found his society
 
 56 THE STORY OF 
 
 agreeable and fascinating in the highest 
 degree ! 
 
 He made me feel, before I had been more 
 than ten minutes in his company, that he 
 was really and truly devoted to me, and 
 genuinely delighted to have me riding with 
 him thus, and he possessed the rare charm 
 of ap'pearing^ at any rate, to be far more in- 
 terested in my pursuits and aspirations than 
 in anything connected with himself. He 
 asked me a great many questions as to my 
 every-day life ; whether I had a governess ; 
 whether she was Prench or English; what 
 studies I preferred ; what books I was in 
 the habit of reading ; and whether we saw 
 much company at Xorthover House ? 
 
 I told him everything he desired to know 
 .about my uneventful existence, and in- 
 formed him that, owing to the unsatis- 
 factory state of my father's health, no 
 visitors ever crossed the threshold of my 
 home. He appeared to be deeply, un-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 57 
 
 accountably, interested in all I said, con- 
 sidering — as I thought to myself — how 
 many more important matters he must 
 have had to occupy him. It was a lovely 
 autumnal afternoon, and I enjoyed my ride 
 immensely. We separated, as upon the pre- 
 vious day, at the entrance to Northover Park. 
 
 " Now that I've discovered all about your 
 manners and customs," he said, as he bade 
 me farewell, '' I've no doubt I shall be able 
 to fall in with you, somehow, whenever I 
 run over to England. Don't quite forgetf 
 me, dear Helen, in the meantime, for you 
 know that we are very, very old friends ! " 
 
 He looked at me, as he spoke, with an 
 expression of regretful yearning, which I 
 might, perhaps, have mistrusted had I 
 known, at this time, that he was such a 
 redoubtable '' lady-killer " ; and then, after 
 wringing my hand very hard, he rode off 
 suddenly, as though he dared not trust 
 himself to say more.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The next time that we met was upon w^liat 
 proved to be a memorable occasion, as far 
 as I was concerned. 
 
 About four or five miles from Northover 
 there lived an old-fashioned couple of the 
 name of Insrlebv, at a beautiful old Eliza- 
 betlian manor-house, known as Ingleby 
 Grange. 
 
 Mr. Ingleby was one of our county Mem- 
 bers ; he was also a master of fox-hounds, 
 and was high sheriff for the year of which I 
 am writing. Besides this, he was a man of 
 large property and considerable wealth;
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 59 
 
 over and over again lie liad refused both a 
 baronetcy and a peerage ; preferring to be 
 known as plain John Ingleby, like his 
 father and grandfather before him. Never- 
 theless, he possessed immense influence in 
 the county ; and at the time when " poor 
 Sir Harry " had conducted himself like a 
 rational being "Jack Ingleby" had been 
 one of his most intimate friends. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ingleby w^ere childless, and 
 well-advanced in years, but they delighted 
 in keeping open house at Ingleby Grange', 
 and were never better pleased than when it 
 was enlivened by the presence of youths and 
 maidens. 
 
 When it became known in the neighbour- 
 hood that I had arrived at woman's years, — 
 for I am writing now of the summer which 
 followed upon my nineteenth birthday, — 
 Mrs. Ingleby had, more than once, driven 
 over to see me ; and, upon tlie last of these
 
 60 THE STORY OF 
 
 occasions, wliicli was Avlicn my father was 
 again absent from home, she had been loud 
 in her expressions of motherly sympathy for 
 my forlorn condition. 
 
 I assured her, speaking with perfect sin- 
 cerity, that I was not at all discontented 
 with my lot ; and that I did not think that 
 I should care for a life of i?aietv and excite- 
 ment. She replied, that it was impossible 
 for me to know, as yet, whether I should 
 like it or not ; that I ought to be presented 
 at court, and permitted to see something of 
 the world, for that it was unnatural for a 
 young creature like me to be mewed up in 
 almost total solitude, and then departed, — 
 filled, as I could not fail to perceive, with 
 all kinds of benevolent projects for my 
 future good, — after depositing two of Mr. 
 Ingleby's cards upon the hall-table with due 
 formality. Only a little while afterwards — 
 just at the conclusion of the London season.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 61 
 
 as I was informed — but of such times and 
 seasons I ]:new as vet next to nothins: — a 
 Royal Duke, having occasion to visit our 
 neighbourhood for some important function, 
 accepted an invitation to remain for the 
 night at Ingleby Grange. A select com- 
 pany was invited to meet him at dinner ; 
 afterwards there was to be a dance, and to 
 this dance Mrs. Ingleby kindly invited both 
 Miss Warden and myself; nor would she 
 listen to any of the objections which I put 
 forward, in my nervousness at the notion of 
 being thus unexpectedly hurried into the 
 world. My father, she said, could surely 
 not disapprove of my going to the house 
 of such very old friends ; but my father's 
 objections were not what I feared. lie was 
 away from home, as he was almost invari- 
 ably now, having taken bachelor apartments 
 in London ; and he displayed too little 
 interest in me, and my doings, for me to
 
 62 THE STORY OF 
 
 think of troubling him with a letter upon 
 a subject which he would have considered 
 so trivial and unimportant. What was 
 exercising my mind, in reality, was, whether 
 I could be quite sure of my dancing steps, 
 wherewithal I should be clothed, and how 
 I should find it possible to converse easily 
 with a number of total stran2:ers. Miss 
 Warden, however, who was enchanted at 
 the thought of accompanying me upon the 
 occasion of my first appearance in public, 
 and who prided herself upon her experience 
 in all matters relating to female attire, pro« 
 mised to take all trouble off my hands. A 
 white ball-dress was made for me in London 
 from measurements which she furnished. 
 Mason, my former nurse, who was now my 
 personal attendant, and a most excellent 
 needlewoman, rectified such trifling errors 
 as required attention, and the cards having 
 distinctly foretold, for the second or third
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 63 
 
 time, that we should meet not only a most 
 brilliant assembly, but also the bachelor 
 heart king and the diamond man of double 
 character, we set off for Ingleby Grange 
 upon the evening of the ball in the highest 
 state of excitement and anticipation. 
 
 I. fancy that, at this time, I must have 
 been what most people would call pretty ; 
 not because I admired my own face at all, 
 but because of the effect which I perceived 
 at once that it seemed capable of producing 
 upon others — an effect which led me to infer • 
 that it must have possessed some sort of 
 charm. I was rather tall for a woman; my 
 complexion was fair, but my eyes and hair 
 were dark ; and I think I had that kind of 
 unusual appearance which is apt to attract 
 notice in a crowd. Sometimes, I surprised 
 myself, looking very like a portrait of my 
 mother which had been hidden away by Sir 
 Harry in a lumber-rcom, and upon which I
 
 64 THE STORY OF 
 
 had chanced one day, when seeking for the 
 large bird-cage that used to stand hy her 
 sitting-room door. But her face, as I could 
 remember it in life, seemed to me to have 
 possessed none of the defects which I could 
 perceive in my own. 
 
 "You look quite lovely, Ilelcn," Miss 
 Warden whispered to me (to give me con- 
 fidence, no doubt) as we entered the ball- 
 room; but then I could hardly regard her 
 as an impartial judge ! 
 
 Our hostess received me with effusive 
 kindness. The E^oyal Duke was standing by 
 her side, and I was presented to him at 
 once. His E.oyal Highness perceiving, no 
 doubt, by reason of my obvious perturba- 
 tion, that this was my first public appear- 
 ance, endeavoured to put me at my ease by 
 the affability of liis conversation. New 
 guests, however, kept on arriving, entailing 
 fresh presentations, so that it was not long
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 65 
 
 before I was able to rejoin Miss Warden, 
 who bad been boverin^^ near me by the 
 doorway, and who took occasion to remark, 
 that if all Princes possessed the delightful 
 manner of His Eoyal Highness, '* we should 
 never hear anything more of those horrible 
 radicals and republicans. . . . But there 
 are ttoo Princes here to-night ! " she added 
 triumphantly, as she glanced towards the 
 further end of the long room ; " that 
 tall, very handsome young man there, 
 talking to that other man, I have just* 
 been told is a prince also ; not an English 
 one, — a Russian, or a Wallachian, or a 
 Bulgarian, with a totally unpronounceable 
 name." I looked in the direction indi- 
 cated, and perceived a tall, distinguished- 
 looking man, wearing several orders upon 
 his breast. He was leaning against a pillar, 
 in conversation with some one whose face 
 
 I could not see. His appearance struck me 
 VOL. I. p
 
 66 THE STOHY OF 
 
 at once, as interesting and imposing. '' If 
 you are introduced to him, and if lie asks 
 you to dance," whispered my amiable but 
 injudicious chaperon, '^ I shall feel perfectly 
 certain that he is the 'heart king'!" I 
 danced my first valse with a youth of the 
 neighbourhood, and, in the course of it, 
 found myself at the further end of the 
 room. My partner paused to make a little 
 conversation, and I perceived that we were 
 close to the distinguished foreigner, and 
 that the person with whom he was con- 
 versing was none other than my old friend 
 Mr. CoUingwood. 
 
 My godfather must have been watching 
 my movements, for he came up to me at 
 once. 
 
 "I'm sorry to interrupt you," he said, 
 addressing my partner, who was evidently 
 an acquaintance, " but I want to ask Miss 
 Davenant for the pleasure of the next
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 67 
 
 dance; that is, if she can forgive me my 
 grey hairs ? " 
 
 I perceived no grey hairs. He looked 
 young and charming as ever, and the sight 
 of him had the effect of immediately re- 
 storing my confidence. 
 
 "When my dance with him was over, the 
 foreign Prince crossed the room, and coming 
 towards us, begged Mr. CoUingwood, with 
 whom it appeared he was staying, to intro- 
 duce him to me, and after this introduction 
 he invited me to dance the next valse. 
 
 His name, as Miss Warden had remarked, 
 seemed to be "utterly unpronounceable," 
 nor did I, indeed, make any attempt to 
 pronounce it. 
 
 Now that I was nearer to him, I did not 
 
 think that he looked particularly young. 
 
 Eive-and-thirty, or forty, at least, I should 
 
 have said, if he had been an Englishman, 
 
 but then Englishmen have a way of looking 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE STORY OF 
 
 younger for their age than the natives of 
 any other country upon the face of the 
 globe ! His hair was so exceedingly light, 
 and colourless, that, at first, I fancied that 
 it must have turned prematurely grey, but 
 his complexion was not of that fresh ruddy 
 kind which is generally the accompaniment 
 of extreme fairness. He had the somewhat 
 lined, and bloodless, look, which, I have since 
 perceived in many of the inhabitants of 
 northern latitudes, where it is customary to 
 pass from the intensity of outward cold to 
 the extremes of artificial heat, and to be 
 alternately nipped by the breath of frosts 
 and parched by the warmth of stoves. His 
 face was short, broad-browed, of rather a 
 Kalmuc type, with liigh cheek-bones, a 
 straight small nose, heavy fair moustaches, 
 and eyes set somewhat obliquely. They 
 were very handsome eyes, however, utterly 
 difierent from any other eyes that I had
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 69 
 
 ever Leheld, of a light transparent colour, 
 like green sea- water, singularly luminous 
 and brilliant, with dark lashes and brows, 
 which contrasted oddly, but picturesquely, 
 with his fair hair. I have since thought 
 that his eyes were a little like those of a 
 lynx — bright, fascinating — dominating, by 
 their size, the rest of the countenance, and 
 having in them, now and then, just a gleam 
 of something wild and untamable. 
 
 He spoke English perfectly, too well, 
 indeed, for an Englishman, but beyond this 
 extreme correctness of expression, there was 
 nothing in his accent to show that he was 
 a foreigner. He informed me that, as 
 children, he and his only sister had always 
 had Erench and English governesses, and 
 that he fancied that he knew these two 
 languages, in consequence, almost better 
 than his own, as it had always been his 
 habit, as a boy, to speak in Erench, and
 
 70 THE STORY OF 
 
 think ill English. He danced beautifully, 
 and seemed, I thought, to be of a very 
 quiet, simple, unpretending nature, speak- 
 ing seriously, and a little wearily, with the 
 manner of one who has come to the end of 
 the emotional and enthusiastic epoch of 
 existence, and whose interest is concen- 
 trated less upon the present than upon the 
 past. 
 
 After our dance, he asked me to come 
 with him through the reception-rooms. He 
 was only remaining in England, he said, a 
 few weeks longer, and was anxious to see 
 something of its country-houses, of which 
 he had heard so much. 
 
 When we had made the round of the 
 apartments, we came to a tea-room, where 
 he asked for a cup of coffee for himself and 
 for me. We sat down together upon a sofa 
 not far from the doorway, whence we could 
 look down the entire length of the bril-
 
 HELEN DAVENA.NT. 71 
 
 liantly-liglited rooms. A strange sensation, 
 as of passive subjection to the power of a 
 superior will, seemed to come over me as I 
 listened to the Prince's calm and somewhat 
 monotonous voice. 
 
 '^ In my country, in Poland," he was 
 saying (so he was neither a Russian, a 
 Wallachian, nor a Bulgarian, after all !) 
 " existence is very much more simple than 
 it is here. We live rather after a primitive 
 patriarchal fashion, which is not wanting in 
 
 a certain picturesqueness There is 
 
 what would seem to you, no doubt, a 
 strange mixture of barbarism and magnifi- 
 cence, but we have nothing whatever of 
 your unostentatious comfort — nothing of 
 that kind ! " 
 
 He waved his hand — which, I noticed, 
 was beautifully shaped— as he spoke, in the 
 direction of the long suite of reception- 
 rooms, and then, looking fixedly in my face,
 
 72 THE STORY OF 
 
 he said, before I had had time to make any 
 rejoinder : 
 
 " Have you ever been told, mademoiselle, 
 that you were very strongly magnetic, or 
 mediumistic ? that you were possessed of 
 remarkable mesmeric power ? " 
 
 " Never ! " I answered, surprised at his 
 words. "What can have made you fancy 
 this ? '' 
 
 *' Because I am myself very strongly 
 mesmeric, and I am impressionable, also, in 
 this respect, to an extraordinary degree. I 
 perceived, from the first moment of speak- 
 ing to you, that I was in the presence of an 
 opposing force. I should be powerless, I 
 imagine, ever to dominate you? " 
 
 "But you were trying to dominate me?" 
 I asked, feeling alarmed. " You were try- 
 ing some sort of experiment or incantation 
 upon me ? I could feel that you were! " 
 
 "Ah! you could feel it!" he said, with
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 73 
 
 quiet satisfaction ; '' then your climate has 
 not deprived me of my most valuable family 
 inheritance ! " 
 
 He smiled dreamily, and then went on 
 stirring and sipping his coffee in silence. 
 
 I shall never quite know how much may 
 have been purely imaginary, the mere result 
 of his words, or how much there was of 
 reality in what I now seemed to experience. 
 Certain it was that I again felt a sense of 
 helplessness, an impossibility, almost, of 
 independent physical action. My mind, 
 however, seemed to be fighting against this 
 unusual restraint. 
 
 '' My body is in your power somehow," I 
 felt compelled to avow, " but my mind is 
 determined to resist you. You cannot get 
 any power over my mind ! " 
 
 " I wonder if it is so ? " he murmured, 
 looking at me curiously. " But noio, even 
 your physical action is restored to you
 
 74 THE STORY OF 
 
 again ? You can rise up and go wlicrever 
 you wish, can you not ? " 
 
 '^Yps, I am free now!" I answered, 
 smiling, and giving myself a little shake. 
 " How did you learn such an extraordinary 
 power ?" 
 
 ^' It came to me by right of inheritance," 
 he answered. '' We were all possessed of it 
 in a greater or lesser degree. It is partly a 
 fiction in our family, mingled with all sorts 
 of fantastic legends, and partly, as you have 
 experienced, a fact. As the members of 
 our race become fewer, so, according to the 
 tradition, does this faculty become the more 
 potent and concentrated with those indi- 
 viduals that remain. Only two of us are 
 living at the present moment, my sister and 
 myself, so that we ought, between us, to 
 possess it in a marked degree." 
 
 " And what is it, exactly ? " I inquired ; 
 " the power of being able to mesmerise
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 75 
 
 people ? You spoke of it just now as a 
 mesmeric power." 
 
 *^ I called it so because I know not how 
 else to describe it. But I rather regard it, 
 myself, as an inherited primitive instinct. 
 We j)ossess still, as a people, many of the 
 characteristics of the uncivilized man, cha- 
 racteristics which were implanted in us, 
 originally, for our own protection, and 
 which have not yet been stifled and over- 
 grown with artificial productions. Just as 
 you find that one dog will carry your stick, 
 that another will dive for a stone, and a 
 third run after a hare ; so, also, the prim- 
 itive races were distinguished by certain 
 physical and mental peculiarities. These, 
 again, became subject to variations in 
 different families. The inheritance of our 
 race has hitherto taken the form of an 
 extraordinary susceptibility^ to all spiritual 
 and magnetic influences. We are *' seti'
 
 76 THE STOEY OF 
 
 sit Ives, ''^ and we recognise at once our 
 relative positions when in the presence 
 of otlicr personalities. Given certain 
 favourable conditions, we are able to 
 dominate and control these others in their 
 volitional power. When the conditions, on 
 the contrary, tell against us, it is all the 
 other way." 
 
 Now that he admitted thus, quite openly 
 and honestly, that he could scarcely claim 
 to be considered a really civilised being, I 
 felt that I could forgive him the wild beast 
 look which I fancied I had observed in his 
 eyes. Probably I was only confronting, for 
 a moment, the primitive man ! 
 
 Before he had time to say more, I saw 
 Mr. Collingwood coming towards us from 
 the ball-room. A curious look, as of 
 vexation, or jealousy, I knew not which, 
 came into his expressive face when he 
 perceived us.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 77 
 
 "Well, my dear Hugo," he exclaimed, 
 addressing his Polish friend, " are you 
 aware that you are monopolising the star 
 of the evening, and that half-a-dozen of 
 our ' gilded youth ' are pacing up and down 
 in the other room, tearing out their hair 
 in handfuls ? I will venture to bet, Miss 
 Helen, that he has been trying to convert 
 you to his views upon mesmerism, spiritual- 
 ism, and electro - biology, and trying to 
 weave about you all sorts of occult spells. 
 Let me release you from the power of the 
 enchanter ! " 
 
 He offered me his arm as he finished 
 speaking, and we returned together to the 
 ball-room. 
 
 The Prince rose also, and followed behind 
 us, seeming grave and abstracted. I danced 
 again, several times, before the end of the 
 evening, and was conscious that his lynx 
 eyes were fixed upon me all the while.
 
 78 THE STORY OF 
 
 Mr. Collingwood, I found, had made the 
 acquaintance of Miss Warden, and had 
 taken her into supper, with the view of 
 ascertaining everything about me — as he 
 said. He had thought her a very good 
 natured and pleasant person, with excellent 
 manners. 
 
 " But what I like in her best," he added, 
 "is her evident devotion to you." 
 
 When it was time for us to depart ho 
 escorted us to the carriage. Whilst we 
 were waiting for it in the hall, I asked him 
 to tell me the Prince's correct name. 
 
 He repeated it slowly, pronouncing each 
 syllable distinctly : " ' Prince Crecszoleski,' 
 Christian name, ^ Hugo.' " 
 
 " I shall never be able to remember it," 
 I said ; "I wish you could have written it 
 for me." 
 
 He drew a letter from his pocket, tore off a 
 scrap of it, and wrote down the name in pencil.
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 79 
 
 "Think of the crackling of a bag of 
 biscuits if you happen to lose this," he said, 
 as he handed me the slip of paper. 
 
 " The Prince is a most distinguished 
 looking individual," Miss Warden remarked 
 in the course of our homeward drive, '' but 
 I must say there is, to my mind, something 
 a little ' Eugene Aramy ' about him. Prob- 
 ably, however, this is only because he is a 
 conspirator. All the Poles, I believe, are 
 conspirators, and belong to secret societies 
 for assassinating the E;ussians. The plot is 
 decidedly thickening ! "
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 Whilst I was dressing, next morning, my 
 mind was filled with impressions connected 
 with my first ball, amongst which the Polish 
 Prince had naturally an important place. 
 My feelings with regard to him were of a 
 curiously mixed kind. Prom having lived 
 so much alone — in mental^ rather than phy- 
 sical, loneliness — I had acquired a habit of 
 more minute self-examination than is usual 
 with young people, and the question I found 
 myself asking, now, was, Why, considering 
 this very heart-loneliness, I had not been 
 more affected by the interest which an at-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 81 
 
 tractive and distinguished man had certainly 
 evinced in me? Why, in a word— with all 
 my yearning for the romantic, and my belief 
 iu a theory of predestination, and the in- 
 tense besoin d^ aimer w^hich lay at my heart 
 — had I not immediatelv succumbed to the 
 charms of this handsome foreign Prince, and 
 fallen '* head over ears " in love with him 
 upon the spot ? I recognised, now that I w^as 
 no longer fettered by the mysterious power 
 w^hich was the birthright of the Crecszo- 
 leskis, that I had felt for the Prince an 
 interest w^hich was entirely devoid of any 
 tender sympathy. He had dominated me, 
 in a measure, it is true, for the sliort time 
 during which it had pleased him to exert 
 his hereditary gift; but I had been fasci- 
 nated without being touched. Nevertheless, 
 as I thought about him now, I realised that 
 he had at least ministered to my girlish 
 vanity, and that I should certainly like to 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE STORY OF 
 
 see Lim just onco more — by daylight — if 
 only to ascertain whether I had formed a 
 correct estimate of his personal appearance. 
 The scrap of paper upon which Mr. Col- 
 lingwood had written his name, was lying 
 crumpled up on the dressing-table, by the 
 side of my fan and lace pocket-handkerchief. 
 I smoothed it out, and spelt over to myself 
 the '' totally unpronounceable name," which, 
 however, I flattered myself I had completely 
 mastered now. 
 
 As I examined the paper by the morning 
 light, I perceived that there was something 
 written upon the other side of it, which Mr. 
 Collingwood had probably not remarked, for 
 the characters were extremely small, and 
 written in faint bluish ink. A woman's 
 handwriting, evidently; and evidently, too, 
 the writing of a woman who was not Eng- 
 lish. The words spoke for themselves : — 
 *' And now, once more, adieu, Excelle7ice!^^
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 83 
 
 (they ran) " a tout jamais, peut-etre ! In 
 remembrance of that which appears to 
 have departed beyond all hope of recall, 
 I must again entreat your good offices 
 aupres de mon cher frere Hugo, who will 
 probably not remain in England longer 
 than a few weeks." 
 
 The Prince's sister, I gathered from these 
 lines— the only other surviving member of 
 this remarkable family — had been acquainted 
 with Mr. Collingwood in the past, and her 
 brother's visit to our neighbourhood had 
 probably been due to this connecting link. 
 
 Breakfast was announced before I had 
 proceeded much further with my reflections ; 
 and, on going downstairs, I found Miss 
 Warden already in the dining-room. 
 
 As I had anticipated, she, too, was over- 
 flowing with impressions of the previous 
 night. She was convinced, of course, that 
 
 the foreign Prince had fallen in love with 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE STORY OF 
 
 mc at first sight. Such things happened 
 constantly ; one read of them in books ; 
 besides which, it had all been foretold by 
 the cards ! She had been informed that he 
 belonged to one of the oldest families in 
 Poland ; that, unlike some foreign Princes, 
 he owned vast possessions ; that he had 
 occupied several distinguished appointments, 
 and was unmarried. All this, too, had been 
 distinctly foretold. Then Mr. Collingwood 
 — what a delightful person! so clever, so 
 well-informed, so fascinating ! He, too, she 
 felt convinced, was hopelessly smitten by my 
 charms. 
 
 '' Mr. Collingwood," I protested, amused 
 at her fatuity, " a man old enough to be my 
 father ! " 
 
 *' People constantly marry husbands who 
 are a good deal older than themselves," 
 returned Miss Warden, cheerfully. '^ Look 
 at the case of your poor Mama. Mr. Col-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 85 
 
 lingwood seems to be quite devoted to you ; 
 and to me he seems like a young man." 
 
 " Well, at any rate it won't be possible 
 for me to marry them both ! " I said, 
 laughing. 
 
 " There could be no reason — under ordin- 
 ary circumstances — why anybody should be 
 anxious for you to marry at all," replied my 
 governess, assuming a more serious air. 
 " People are often very happy in a single 
 state ; but your position, my dear, I can't 
 help confessing, is, in some respects, un- 
 fortunate. It is exceptional, at any rate ; 
 and it would be of the greatest importance 
 to your future happiness if you could make 
 an advantageous marriage whilst you are 
 young. Sometimes — as in my own case — 
 we are apt to defer this step until it is 
 rather late ! " and she looked down at her 
 plate and sighed. 
 
 " I can assure you I am in no liurry to
 
 86 THE STORY OF 
 
 marry/' I exclaimed. " I am quite con- 
 tented living on here as I am." 
 
 " It would be different if you could go on 
 living here always," returned Miss Warden, 
 gravely ; '' but supposing anything were to 
 happen to your poor papa, who is now over 
 sixty, and far from being in a satisfactory 
 state of health ? This place could be no 
 longer your home. Mrs. Ingleby was going 
 about last night speaking of you as ' the 
 beautiful heiress,' and it is evident, my 
 dear, that you will be exceedingly well off, 
 for there are certain possessions — according 
 to Mr. Collingwood, who seems to know all 
 about you — which are bound to come to you 
 immediately upon the death of Sir Harry ; 
 whilst Croft's Farm — that delightful little 
 place where your poor mother used to live 
 before she married — reverts to you as soon 
 as you are twenty-one. Northover House, 
 however, where you have lived all your life,
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 87 
 
 and the property wliich lies round about it, 
 will pass away to your cousin. Colonel 
 Courtenay Davenant.'' 
 
 "Yes, I know that," I answered; **though 
 I didn't know that cousin Courtenay had 
 become a Colonel." 
 
 "He is only a Colonel in the Guards, 
 which, it seems, is equivalent to a Captain in 
 any other regiment. He has got on capitally 
 in his profession (I learnt all this from Mr. 
 Collingwood), and has now been appointed 
 military attache somewhere — a very eligible 
 post. He's very clever and good-looking, 
 just ten years older than you are, and, if 
 only you two could have married, there 
 would have been a way out of the difficulty 
 at once." 
 
 " Ah ! So I am to be married to him, 
 now ! What shall I do with my other two 
 admirers ? " 
 
 "This marriage with your cousin, how-
 
 88 THE STORY OF 
 
 ever," Miss Warden continued, without 
 heeding me, *' seems, now, very vmlikely 
 to take place/' * 
 
 She said no more, but sighed, and went 
 on with her breakfast. Her remark excited 
 my curiosity. She seemed, I tliought, to 
 have imbibed an immense amount of in- 
 formation in the course of a single night ! 
 
 '' Is my cousin going to be married to 
 anybody else?" I inquired of her by-and-by. 
 
 "Not that I know of; Mr. Collingwood, 
 at least, did not say so. But he saw your 
 cousin not long ago, in London, before he 
 had received this new appointment, and he 
 said then, it seems, that he had quite given 
 up all idea of what he alluded to as ' the 
 family marriage project.' " 
 
 "By which he meant his possible marriage 
 with me?" 
 
 " Yes ; Mr. Collingwood may not have 
 intended me to repeat all this, but I'm doing
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 89 
 
 SO entirely for your own good. It appears 
 that your cousin knows Mr. Collingwoocl 
 well, and is, besides, a great friend of a 
 young Collingwood, a nephew of your god- 
 father's, who is in the same regiment with 
 him, and who sometimes visits down here. 
 Colonel Davenant, therefore, knew a good 
 deal about your poor papa's odd ways, and 
 of the dull life you lead at Northover. He 
 asked a good many questions about you, but 
 
 I fancy that Mr. Collingwood was the first 
 
 « 
 
 to allude to the marriage project, from what 
 he said, and then it was that Colonel 
 Davenant told him he had entirely given 
 up all notion of it, although, at one time, 
 he had thought that it would have been 
 advantageous both to himself and the pro- 
 perty." 
 
 I felt piqued in spite of myself. 
 
 " He might have taken the trouble, first, 
 to find out whether I should have agreed
 
 90 TUE STORY OF 
 
 to it ! " I said with some warmth ; '' a person 
 can hardly ' give up ' a thing that has never 
 been within their reach!'' 
 
 " Well, my dear, if he had thought fit to 
 propose to you, I should hope that you 
 would not have been so foolish as to throw 
 away so good a chance, for it would cer- 
 tainly have been one of the most satisfactory 
 arrangements possible ! Colonel Davenant, 
 however, thinks differently. He has alw^ays 
 objected, upon principle, to the union of 
 first cousins, and was only led to contem- 
 plate this marriage because it had been a 
 favourite scheme of his father's. Lately, 
 however, he has become confirmed in his 
 first opinion. He looks, now, upon the 
 relationship as an insurmountable bar- 
 rier." 
 
 " Why noio, more than at first?" 
 " Because of things which have since 
 occurred — unfortunate circumstances."
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 91 
 
 « 
 
 " Nothing that I can have done ? " I 
 inquired eagerly. 
 
 " No, no, dear ; far from it ! And it 
 seems indeed hard that you should suffer 
 for what isn't in the least your fault. Mr. 
 Collingwood seemed very much concerned 
 ahout it. He said it was utter nonsense to 
 ohject to the cousinship. But the subject is 
 such a painful one that I hardly like to 
 allude to it." 
 
 " Ah, but you must tell me everything, 
 now that you have said so much ! " I ex-* 
 claimed. " Mr. Collingwood shall never 
 know that you repeated his words." 
 
 " Well, then, dearest Helen, disapproving 
 as Colonel Davenant did, of such marriages 
 in the abstract, he had gradually come to 
 the conclusion that, in this particular case, 
 one might have been possible, until it came 
 
 to his knowledge that 
 
 }> 
 
 She hesitated, and began cutting her 
 toast into an infinity of little pieces
 
 92 TUE STORY OF 
 
 I felt impatient and apprehensive to an 
 intense degree. 
 
 " Until what came to Lis knowledge ? " I 
 eagerly inquired. 
 
 *' Until he discovered that there was a 
 tendency to madness in the family. Yoii 
 have made me tell you everything now ! " 
 
 *' He considers that poor papa is mad ?" 
 
 " He considers that he displays a ten- 
 dency that way ; and you know, dear, that 
 he is not the only person who thinks this. 
 You see now what I meant when I said 
 that your position was rather unfortunate — 
 not quite so brilliant as it seemed. Your 
 cousin has been prevented, on this account, 
 from making you an offer of marriage, even 
 when it would be greatly to the advantage 
 of the estate. Other people may, very 
 likely, be prevented too. Poor Sir Harry 
 is no kind of companion to you. He will 
 never be able to introduce you into London 
 society, or receive visitors here. His death,
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 93 
 
 it is true, would probably silence all these 
 distressing rumours ; but then you will have 
 to turn out of your old home. Your cousin 
 was very determined in his opinion, it 
 seems ; nothing Mr. Collingwood said could 
 shake him." 
 
 I remained silent for some time. It did 
 not surprise me much to hear that Sir 
 Harry should be considered mad. Exagge- 
 rated accounts of his strange behaviour had 
 probably reached my cousin Courtenay's 
 ears, and I could not blame him for being 
 influenced by them. It was not as though 
 he had abandoned the idea of our marriage 
 on account of anything he might have 
 heard to my own disadvantage. I felt how 
 utterly absurd it was of me to be affected 
 in the least by what I had just learnt of 
 Colonel Davenant's objections, considering 
 that, as far as I could recollect, I had only 
 seen him once in my life, and that was
 
 94 THE STORY OF 
 
 when I was little more than a baby. I 
 was not quite ignorant of the fact that 
 there had been some talk— chiefly amongst 
 the servants and gossiping neighbours — of 
 our eventual marriage ; but I regarded this 
 as merely a result of its becoming known, 
 amongst meddlesome people, that I pos- 
 sessed a male cousin of a suitable age, — 
 a marriage with whom might be to the 
 advantasre of the Northover estates. 
 
 I am bound to confess, however (desiring 
 as I do to give in this narrative a descrip- 
 tion of my real feelings —however wrong or 
 unreasonable they may have been), that the 
 impression conveyed to me by Miss War- 
 den's well-meant words was, that I had 
 received some manner of unmerited slight 
 at the hands of my absent and unknown 
 kinsman. He seemed to have given up the 
 idea of this marriage (I thought) without a 
 single feeling of regret or compunction !
 
 HELEN DAVE N ANT. 95 
 
 It had never occurred to him, evidently, 
 that I might be in any way loveable or 
 attractive as a woman ! I had been looked 
 upon merely as a necessary element in '' the 
 family marriage project," which was to be 
 pursued, or abandoned, just as it might 
 seem good to him ! 
 
 Without falling in with Miss Warden's 
 ridiculous notions as to the effect which she 
 imagined that I had produced — not only 
 upon Mr. Colling wood (my own godfather !) 
 but also upon the Polish Prince who had 
 beheld me last night for the first time — 
 I certainly felt, at this moment, an intense 
 desire to convince my cousin Courtenay, 
 after some very decided fashion, that I 
 could bear, with perfect equanimity, the 
 idea of an existence without him ; and 
 that this voluntary abandonment of me, 
 upon his part, would not necessarily con- 
 demn me to a life of celibacy !
 
 CHAPTEIi VII. 
 
 All night long I could not sleep for think- 
 iog of what Miss Warden had told me. 
 
 With regard to my father, I could not 
 bring myself to believe that he was really 
 mad. My mother's sudden death had given 
 his nervous system a violent shock. He 
 had withdrawn himself entirely from all 
 genial companionship, neglected his ap- 
 pearance, and sliut himself up like a 
 hermit. Then, with the laudable desire, 
 probably, of returning once more to the 
 duties and responsibilities of bis former life 
 — or else from a wish to drown his absorb-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 97 
 
 ing melancholy — he had had recourse to 
 stimulants, the curse of so many unhappy 
 low-spirited people, which, far from pro- 
 ducing the desired effect, had reduced him 
 to a condition which was even more deplor- 
 able than his previous state of despondency. 
 " Poor Sir Harry " was a misanthrope — a 
 drunkard — an irritable, miserable, unrea- 
 sonable being — but surely not one that 
 anybody could truthfully describe as ac- 
 tually insane ? 
 
 After I had turned this subject well ove? 
 in my mind, I began living, in imagination, 
 the melancholy, monotonous, kind of exist- 
 ence which would probably be reserved for 
 me if, as might be expected in the course of 
 nature, I should survive my unfortunate 
 father. I saw myself — no longer, possibly, 
 in the first flush of youth — packing up all 
 the little belongings that I could legiti- 
 mately lay claim to as my own, and turning 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE STORY OF 
 
 my back for ever upon my old home — the 
 house which my clear mother had graced 
 with her beauty and enlivened by her 
 smiles — wherein she had closed her eyes in 
 death, and wherein my own had first opened 
 to the light ! I saw myself bidding a 
 sad farewell to the garden, the old sum- 
 mer-house, all my favourite nooks and 
 corners, and then driving off, with my 
 baggage, to Croft's Earm — the little place 
 which, in right of my mother, who had 
 inherited it at the death of my uncle 
 Everard, would accrue to me in spite 
 of my sex. Everything, of course, would 
 seem very new, and strange, and cramped, 
 just at first, after having lived in such a 
 much bigger house. In time, however, I 
 should probably get used to the change. I 
 could go on with my music and drawling — 
 this would cheer me in my loneliness — and 
 do some good amongst the poor. I should
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 99 
 
 be able, I supposed, to afford a few horses, 
 so that I could go for my usual rides. 
 How odd it would seem, just at first, to 
 pass by the Northover lodge-gates, without 
 turning in at any of them ! Miss Warden, 
 if she had not been carried off by the 
 wealthy and handsome husband who was 
 so continually shadowed forth by the cards, 
 might come and stay with me from time to 
 time ; or I might even be able to make 
 some arrangement by which she should 
 live with me altogether. If not, I could 
 get a nice fluffy Persian cat, that I could 
 grow fond of, or a dear, great, black, curly- 
 backed retriever dog, with faithful brown 
 eyes, and a tail that would begin wagging 
 whenever he saw me coming ! It would be 
 better to have only a dog or a cat to care 
 for than nothing at all ! 
 
 So I mused on, "piling up the agony," 
 until the tears begotten of a " sweet 
 
 h2
 
 100 TKE STORY OF 
 
 self-pity " fell fast and thick upon my 
 pillow. 
 
 Never, until this moment, had I so 
 thoroughly realised what my future was 
 likely to be ! What a desolate, contracted, 
 loveless kind of existence — scarcely, indeed, 
 to be dignified by the name of an existence 
 at all ! An involuntary state of compulsory 
 vegetation, whicli would go on until my 
 time came to be cut down by the scythe 
 of the grim reaper ! What congenial 
 .S2)irit would ever take the trouble to seek 
 xne, once I was thus hidden and buried 
 away from the civilised world ? What fairy 
 Prince would be likely to draw in his bridle- 
 rein at the door of my humble and obscure 
 abode? And all this while, up at North- 
 over House — my dear, dear, lost home! — 
 my cousin Courtenay would be lording it to 
 his heart's content — married, of course, by 
 that time, to the peerless lady of his choice.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 101 
 
 the perfect pearl, selected, after all due 
 consideration, as worthy of so great an 
 honour, whose family escutcheon and " bill 
 of health " must be alike free from speck or 
 blemish ; and who would sometimes pay me 
 patronising visits, perhaps, and invite me to 
 go over to afternoon tea 1 
 
 When I arose, next morning, I looked 
 pale and dispirited. I felt as though, in a 
 single night, I had acquired the wisdom of 
 years, by the light of which I seemed to 
 perceive that my cousin Courtenay was a 
 kind of enemy, to be both feared and mis- 
 trusted. 
 
 At the breakfast-table these morbid feel- 
 ings underwent a good deal of modification. 
 Here I found Miss Warden, in a most plea- 
 surable state of excitement. She had just 
 received a letter of the greatest importance, 
 in her opinion, to me. It was from Mr. 
 Collingwood, and ran as follows : —
 
 102 the story of 
 
 " Dear Miss Warden, 
 
 " My guest, Prince Crecszoleski, seems 
 to have a mania for looking at country- 
 houses, as he says he is thinking of settling 
 amongst us some day, and so, if quite con- 
 venient to yourself and the fair Helen, he 
 proposes to walk over and pay you his 
 respects to-morrow, at about two o'clock, 
 when it will interest him much to be shown 
 the house and the pictures. 
 
 '' I shall not, I fear, be able to do myself 
 the pleasure of accompanying him, as I 
 think I shall be obliged to go up to London 
 upon important business at the F. O., but 
 I will see that he is started off on the risrlit 
 road. 
 
 . " Don't prepare luncheon for him, as he 
 eats next to nothing. A cup of coffee, or 
 green tea, is all that he will require. Of 
 course, should you happen to be from home, 
 or particularly engaged, he can go back by
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 103 
 
 the way he came, as it is not customary, as 
 you are aware, for young ladies to receive 
 such visitors en tete-a-tete. With kindest 
 remembrances to Miss Helen, 
 
 " I am, dear Miss Warden, 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Geouge Collingwood. 
 
 '' P.S. — Give Crecszoleski lemon with his 
 tea instead of cream ; and, if you want to 
 make him feel quite happy, let him smoke 
 as many cigarettes as he pleases." 
 
 The "to-morrow" of Mr. Collingwood's 
 letter was now " to-dav," and Miss Warden 
 was already in a flutter of anticipation. 
 
 " You see, Helen," she said, as I returned 
 the letter to her after reading it, '^ the plot 
 is thickening fast ! This mania for looking 
 at country-houses is merely a pretext ! The 
 Prince wishes to see you again, to obtain a 
 footing in your home. I wish that Mr.
 
 104i THE STORY OF 
 
 Colliiigwood could liavc come too. We 
 should have been four, then — a nicer 
 number than three for private conversation 
 in public, for I feel sure that the Prince 
 has something particular to say to you. 
 Don't you detect a ring of jealousy in Mr. 
 Collingwood's letter — in his great anxiety, 
 for instance, that you should not receive his 
 friend en tete-a-tete?^^ 
 
 *' I fancy he only wishes us to do what is 
 considered the proper thing," I answered. 
 " Princes are very likely more particular 
 than other people, and Mr. Collingwood 
 mayn't think we see enough of the world to 
 know much of its ways. He tells you this 
 just as he tells you to give the Prince lemon 
 with his tea." 
 
 " I think quite differently, dear," re- 
 turned Miss Warden looking extremely 
 wise. " I think they are both very much 
 Smitten with you. Mr. CoUini^wood has
 
 HELEN DAYENAKT. 105 
 
 had to go up to London to-day upon im- 
 portant business at the Eoreign Office. 
 The Prince, aware of this, has fixed upon 
 to-day for his visit. Mr. Collingwood, feel- 
 ing that the Prince is his guest, and that 
 he will he obliged to leave him alone for 
 the whole day (for I hear that Lord Sil- 
 Chester seldom now quits his own apart- 
 ment), cannot naturally object, however 
 much he might have wished to accompany 
 the Prince. As he is unable to do so, he 
 fires off this letter to me, in order to make 
 sure that his guest shall not see you alone I 
 That is how J read between the lines !'' 
 
 I asked her why, if Mr. Colling wood 
 entertained for me any such sentiments as- 
 she had imputed to him, he should have 
 endeavoured to persuade my cousin Cour- 
 
 tenay to adhere to the project of our mar- 
 
 ? 
 
 ** You told me yesterday," I said, " that 
 
 riage r
 
 100 THE STORY OF 
 
 Mr. Colling wood declared that it was utter 
 nonsense to object to the cousinsliip, and 
 that he had tried to shake Courtenay's 
 scruples but could not succeed." 
 
 '^ Ah, well ! that certainly does seem a 
 little inconsistent," she answered thought- 
 fully ; " but then we must remember, dear, 
 that Mr. Collingwood is a diplomatist ! 
 Diplomatists are never open or above-board 
 in anything ! Their trade is to conceal 
 their real intentions. He may have wished 
 to convince me, before he put forward his 
 own views, that all possibility of your mar- 
 riage with Colonel Davenant was at an end, 
 in order that he might not appear to inter- 
 fere with it. All the same, the Prince is 
 evidently coming to see you, so that I 
 certainly do not feel disposed to watch you 
 both like a detective !" 
 
 As we now knew that Prince Crecszoleski 
 never partook of luncheon. Miss Warden
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 107 
 
 tlioiiglit that it might be as well, perhaps, 
 that we, too, should not seem to be too car- 
 nivorous, and that he should not find us, as 
 she expressed it, " sitting like two ogres all 
 surrounded by bones." 
 
 We had the remains of our luncheon, 
 therefore, cleared away a little earlier than 
 usual, and betook ourselves to the old 
 summer-house in the garden, the day being 
 beautifully fine, where we ordered that both 
 tea and coffee should be brought out to us 
 as soon as our visitor arrived. 
 
 Afterwards, should he prefer it, we could 
 adjourn to the house, but Miss "Warden, 
 who persisted in believing that the Prince 
 would desire to talk with me confidentially, 
 and who yet did not intend altogether to 
 disregard the hint conveyed in Mr. Colling- 
 Avood's letter, thought that he would be able 
 to speak to me more freely in the garden 
 than within doors. She could remain at
 
 108 THE STORY OF 
 
 work in tlic summer-housCj she said, whilst 
 we two wandered about at our will — onljjy^ 
 I was to imagine that her eyes were upon 
 me all the time ! In this way everybody 
 would have reason to be satisfied. 
 
 I have alluded to this old summer-house 
 before as one of my favourite resorts. My 
 poor mother, too, as I had been told, was 
 very fond of sitting in it, and this lent it an 
 additional charm in my eyes. 
 
 The flower-garden, at Northover, was dis- 
 posed in front of the principal windows 
 after rather a formal fashion, upon a broad 
 terrace, divided from the deer-park by a 
 balustrade surmounted by urns and statues,, 
 beyond which the land dropped consider- 
 ably. Level with this terrace, upon the 
 higher ground, shady paths branched forth 
 from each end of the garden, bordered upon 
 the one side by high yew hedges, neatly 
 clipped, and upon the other by the low
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 109 
 
 «tone balustrade overlooking the outer 
 park. 
 
 Only a sliort distance down the path 
 i\^hieh led from the right, and parallel with 
 the yew hedge, was situated the old sum- 
 mer-house, so-called because another, a 
 newer one, had been built at a more recent 
 date, in the corresponding pathway to the 
 left. 
 
 I much preferred the " old " summer- 
 house of the two. It was deeper, more 
 sequestered, and the view which lay ex- 
 tended in front of it, as one looked out 
 through its rustic columns over the grey 
 terrace-wall, was calm and beautiful in the 
 extreme. 
 
 A broad extent of undulating park-land, 
 well wooded with noble forest trees, and 
 feathery with bracken, amongst which the 
 fallow-deer would lie herded together in the 
 hot summer days out of the way of the flies,
 
 110 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 with nothing of them visible save their 
 branching antlers. To the left the ground 
 became more broken and hilly, and a mur- 
 muring stream, shining out here and there 
 from between bulrusli and willow-weed, 
 went wandering down the valley like a' 
 silver serpent. Beyond all this, upon very 
 clear days, the blue line of the sea could be 
 plainly discerned, kissing the sky, as it 
 were, at the uttermost edge of the visible 
 horizon. 
 
 Miss Warden and I had not been Ions: 
 established in this delightiul retreat before 
 a footman brought us out Prince Crecszo- 
 Icski's card, and, looking across the lawn, 
 we saw him coming towards us from the 
 drawing-room, the windows of which opened 
 upon the terrace.
 
 CHAPTER yill. 
 
 After partaking of coffee, which, in spite 
 of all our forethought with regard to the 
 lemon. Prince Crecszoleski preferred to 
 green tea, — admiring the view, and con- 
 versing upon general topics, — Miss Warden 
 asked me whether I should not like to show 
 the Prince over the rest of the garden before 
 we repaired to the house. She appeared to 
 be intent upon some complication in her 
 knitting, and displayed no sign of following 
 us when we rose to act upon her suggestion. 
 "That good lady — your duenna — under-
 
 112 THE STORY OF 
 
 stands me exactly ! " remarked the Prince, 
 as soon as we were out of ear-sliot. '^ She 
 perceives that my visit was not to her but 
 to you / " 
 
 I made no reply, not knowing, quite, 
 what I ought to say, and we sauntered on 
 j)ast the house, and so down into the shady 
 pathway to the left. 
 
 " So this is Avhere you live ! '' he ex- 
 claimed, seeking my eyes, as though with 
 melancholy interest. ^' This is the peaceful, 
 beautiful, English home, where you have 
 passed sixteen ? — seventeen ? How many 
 years shall I say ? '' 
 
 " I am past nineteen," I answered, think- 
 ing that he wished, for some reason, to 
 discover my age, and being too young, as 
 yet, to wish to conceal it. 
 
 "Ah, but you look much younger," he 
 ■remarked. '' In no country do people look 
 so young as here in England. What age
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 113 
 
 would you give me, now, if you were obliged 
 to guess ? *' 
 
 I looked up at his face, determined to 
 say just what I thought. 
 
 He appeared no older by daylight than 
 he did in the evening. I remarked the same 
 lines in his face, the absence of all ruddy 
 flesh tint^, tlie dark shadows under his 
 strange eyes, the serious, rather weary 
 expression, with a curious gleam, now and 
 again, as of the awakening of some more 
 ardent instinct. His figure — tall, lithe, and 
 distinguished-looking— seemed to be younger 
 than his face. 
 
 " Thirty- six ? " I hazarded, still contem- 
 plating his singular countenance with atten- 
 tion. 
 
 ** Not yet thirty - four," he answered. 
 " You see, you have aged me by more than 
 two years ! But then I have not lived 
 always, like you, this peaceful home-life. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE STORY OF 
 
 Tell me"— he added, suddenly — '* does this 
 existence of perpetual repose entirely satisfy 
 the cravings of your nature ? You are 
 intelligent — observant — sympathetic. I 
 can imagine that to those who have already 
 battled, and suffered, in the outer world, this 
 place must seem, as it seems to me at this 
 moment, like a terrestrial paradise ; but, 
 previous to having had any such ex- 
 periences ? Do you feel no desire, some- 
 times, to do like this — to plunge out into 
 what may be beyond ? " 
 
 He placed his right hand lightly upon 
 the flat coping-stone at the top of the 
 balustrade as he spoke, and vaulted over 
 it into the outer park. On account of the 
 fall in the ground I was now some distance 
 above him. 
 
 " Ah ! you won't find it so easy to vault 
 back again, Prince ! " I said, looking down 
 at liim as I rested my elbows upon the stone
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 115 
 
 parapet. *^ Perhaps I might fiad it the same 
 if I quitted my quiet home." 
 
 " With your help/' he answered, holding 
 out his hand to me. 
 
 I took it, instinctively, fancying that he 
 was about to vault back again and required 
 my assistance. He walked on, however, 
 still holding my hand, until we reached the 
 spot where the stone balustrade was re- 
 placed by an iron railing. This he leapt 
 over easily, and we strolled on together 
 walking side by side as before. 
 
 Whilst the Prince was holding my hand, 
 I had again experienced the curious sen- 
 sation, as of subjection to a superior will, 
 which liad oppressed me in the tea-room at 
 Ingleby Grange. I felt it, however, in a less 
 marked degree, and upon his relinquishing 
 his hold it left me altogether. 
 
 We were quite close now to the summer- 
 house corresponding to the one in which we 
 
 1 2
 
 116 THE STORY OF 
 
 had left Miss Warden. The prince pro- 
 posed that we should sit down and talk a 
 little before rejoining my " duenna," as he 
 called her. 
 
 "You are looking pale to-day, Miss 
 Davenant," he said, looking at me earnestly; 
 ''probably you are still suffering from the 
 fatigues of the ball r " 
 
 '^Oh, no! the ball didn't tire me in the 
 least ! But last night I could not sleep. 
 My thoughts were too disagreeable." 
 
 ** You sleep well, generally?" he inquired. 
 
 " Yes," I answered. "How could we live 
 without sleep ? " 
 
 " I am endeavouring to live without it 
 now," he answered. " I am purposely 
 trying, for the moment, to conquer my 
 material impulses, in order to pursue some 
 psychical experiments in which I am in- 
 terested. Tell me," he added, and he gazed 
 still more intently at my face, " my friend
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 117 
 
 George — my amiable host — is he in any- 
 way related to you ? " 
 
 " No/' I answered, '^ he is no relation — 
 only a very old family friend. Why do you 
 ask ? " 
 
 " You may not feel complimented, per- 
 haps — in spite of his being so great a 
 favourite with your sex — but the fact is, 
 to a foreigner, as I am, English faces that 
 are of the same type and complexion seem 
 often to bear a kitid of family likeness tow 
 one another, even when there is no cause 
 for it. My friend George, in spite of his 
 cosmopolitan experiences, will always be 
 recognized wherever he goes as an English- 
 man ; and you, too. Miss Helen, with your 
 tall figure, your air de Diane Chasseresse, 
 you could be nothing else but a daughter 
 of " la perfide Albion ; " and thus, just when 
 you held up your head, so, and looked at 
 me, I fancied that I perceived some kind of
 
 118 THE STORY OF 
 
 resemblance between you, which, joined to 
 the great interest he seems to evince in you, 
 made me think he might be a relation." 
 
 " No," I answered, '' I have very few 
 male relations living. Only my father and 
 one cousin. It was a thousand pities that I 
 was not a boy myself ! " 
 
 I sighed, thinking of my possible future 
 at Croft's Parm, the Persian cat, the curly- 
 backed retriever, and all the other consola- 
 tions of desolate spinsterhood. 
 
 " If you had been a boy," returned the 
 Prince, smiling — but rather sadly, I thought 
 — " I should not be sitting here with you 
 to-day ! " 
 
 I was perfectly at my ease with him now, 
 and felt, somehow, as if I had known him 
 for a long time. His society, however, 
 depressed me unaccountably. I felt that he 
 was unhappy, restless, disappointed with his 
 experience of life. I might have desired.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 119 
 
 perhaps, — being- young and romantic, — to 
 bring back his happiness, his peace of mind, 
 his shattered illusions, but I was penetrated 
 as with a sense of my inability to serve him 
 adequately. 
 
 He attracted and repelled me in so strange 
 a manner that I longed to discover some 
 clue to the mystery. 
 
 By-and-by, seeing that I was about to 
 return to the garden- terrace, he said 
 earnestly — 
 
 " Miss Helen, just one question before 
 we separate. I have asked you so mjuiy 
 already, that I fear I must seem imperti- 
 nent ; but time presses, and obliges me to 
 dispense with ceremony. Have you decided 
 yet, in any definite manner, upon the course 
 of your future life ? Have your affections 
 become engaged ? Are you betrothed to 
 anybody ? '* 
 
 " No," I answered. '* I have no future
 
 120 THE STORY OF 
 
 planned out ; I do not care about anybody ; 
 and I am not engaged to be married." 
 
 " Quite, quite, free ? " he asked, looking 
 at me very earnestly. " Not even a wander- 
 ing dream in your mind, or in your heart ? " 
 
 ** Nothing ! " I replied, speaking sadly. 
 " I have, of course, my hopes and my fears, 
 and I build my castles in the air ; but that 
 is all ! And you ? " 
 
 " Nothing, nothing ! " he answered- 
 " Marriage, affection, have not hitherto 
 entered into the programme of my exist- 
 ence. Till now, all women have seemed to 
 me like dolls ! " 
 
 I did not answer him. Somehow I had 
 expected this speech. I seemed to know 
 that it must come before long. 
 
 " And when you hope, and fear, and 
 build your castles, you sit here, where we 
 are now sitting, looking like this, out over 
 the woods and fields ? '^
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 121 
 
 "Yes; but always in the other summer- 
 house, where we left my governess. I like 
 it better than this one.'' 
 
 ** Ah ! And is not that the way I came 
 this afternoon ? " 
 
 He pointed to the road, which wound 
 down through the park, towards that part 
 of the estate which joined Lord Silchester's 
 property. 
 
 " Yes, that's the way you must have 
 come. It will be your shortest way back, 
 too. You could walk it in less than half- 
 an-hour." 
 
 " And may I not walk it again before I 
 leave this place, very probably for ever ? 
 Some warm evening, perhaps, when my friend 
 George is sitting, after dinner, with his old 
 father ? If I were then to wander out 
 and find myself here, and then to leap over 
 that wall, as I did just now, would you be 
 sitting in your arbour, building your castles.
 
 122 TUE STORY OF 
 
 and should I see you alone, where we could 
 converse without interruption ? " 
 
 I felt no thrill of emotion as the Prince 
 uttered these words. I perceived what was 
 unusual, romantic, sensational, in the situa- 
 tion, but I was mistress of myself in every 
 fibre as I answered — 
 
 ** Why should you come to me then, w^hen 
 you could come by daylight ? What would 
 anybody think who saw you coming as if by 
 stealth?" 
 
 *' They would not see me — nobody but 
 you ; or, if they did, they would think 
 merely that I had dined here, and was 
 sitting with you, after dinner, in your 
 garden. To-day is Wednesday. I came 
 but for one week, and am leaving for 
 London on Monday morning. Tell me 
 that on Friday evening, at a little before 
 ten o'clock, you will be there — where we 
 left your duenna ? "
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 123 
 
 " No, no, no ! " I exclaimed, rising. 
 " What can have made you think that I 
 would do this ? Do not come, I implore 
 you ! I shall not be there ! " 
 
 " You will be there," he said quietly, 
 meeting my eyes, for one moment, with a 
 look which seemed half a supplication and 
 half a command. '* You will know that 
 with me you will be as safe as with your 
 father or your cousin, and you will come ! '* 
 
 When I returned to Miss Warden I felt 
 weary and exhausted, as though with som6 
 kind of moral conflict. I had been victori- 
 ous for the moment, but I had lost strength 
 in the encounter. I was agitated and dis- 
 turbed, too, at the thought that the Prince 
 might persist in his intention. 
 
 As we entered the old summer-house, I 
 saw that he seemed to be taking particular 
 note of the locality. 
 
 Close to where Miss Warden was sitting
 
 124 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 at work, a word was picked out, upon the 
 ground, in white pebbles. 
 
 It was " Venture^'''' the name of a favourite 
 dog belonging once to my mother — a water- 
 spaniel, I had been told — which had been 
 given to her by Mr. Collingwood, and so 
 called because of its daring and intrepid 
 disposition. 
 
 It had died but a short time before its 
 mistress, and had been buried here. I ex- 
 plained this to Prince Crecszoleski before 
 we repaired to the house. 
 
 *' Venture .' " he repeated, looking into 
 my eyes again, with the same expression of 
 commanding supplication that I had ob- 
 served in them before. 
 
 Miss Warden fancied, no doubt, that he 
 merely w^anted to arrive at the correct pro- 
 nunciation of the dead spaniel's name, but I 
 felt sure that he was alluding to his project 
 for Eriday night.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I NEED hardly say that Prince Crecszoleski's 
 distinguished manners and appearance had 
 made a most favourable impression upon 
 Miss Warden. 
 
 We were all made^of the same clay, of 
 course (she remarked), and Princes were 
 mortal, like everybody else, and we were 
 told in Scripture that we were not to put 
 our trust in them; but still, she had 
 observed, over and over again, whenever 
 she had found herself in the society of 
 really great personages, that there was 
 something different about them, and, cer-
 
 126 THE STORY OF 
 
 tainly, altogether superior. It was easy to 
 sec that our visitor, for instance, was 
 utterly unlike anybody else. 
 
 I suggested that perhaps tl\is may have 
 proceeded from the fact that he was a Pole. 
 She maintained, on the contrary, that it 
 was solely because he was a Prince. Only 
 one circumstance seemed to have disturbed 
 and perplexed her a little. Whilst she was 
 showing the Prince over the picture-gallery, 
 previous to his departure (when, wishing 
 my reply to his suggestion to be taken as 
 final, I had not accompanied her), it had 
 transpired, in the course of conversation, 
 that Mr. Collingwood had not, after all, 
 gone up to his appointment at the Poreign 
 Office. His guest, indeed, was not aware 
 that he had had any such intention. He 
 had walked with him the greater part of 
 the way to Northover, in order that he 
 might not go wrong, and then, — he had
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 127 
 
 simply turned back, and gone home 
 again ! 
 
 Here, according to Miss Warden, was a 
 great mystery, and a total upsetting of all 
 her previous theories. Why had Mr. 
 CoUingwood pretended that he was going 
 up to London when he had had no inten- 
 tion of the kind ? Why had he not accom- 
 panied the Prince upon his visit, particu- 
 larly when he had seemed to be so anxious 
 that I should not receive him alone ? All 
 this was most incomprehensible ! * 
 
 " Perhaps,'' I said, amused at her readi- 
 ness to attach importance to trifles, " Mr. 
 CoUingwood may be the man of double 
 character ! " 
 
 Considering the manner in which I had 
 been educated — my hankering after excite- 
 ment and romance — my craving for sym- 
 pathy — my longing to make the entire 
 happiness of some one other human being.
 
 128 TUE STORZ OF 
 
 and, by so doing, to ensure my own — my 
 frame of mind, at this critical time, was 
 almost a surprise to myself. I was beset 
 by none of those rash impulses which are so 
 often the dangerous accompaniments of 
 youth. My most disturbing thoughts, just 
 at first, were occasioned by the idea that 
 the Prince should be at the trouble of 
 walking all this way, immediately after his 
 dinner, for nothing. I felt that he would 
 probably adhere to his intention at all 
 hazards, and I realised that, in spite of 
 myself, I should be certain to feel very 
 restless, and responsible, once I knew that 
 he was waiting for me, close by, in the old 
 summer-house. I should be sitting com- 
 fortably in the drawing-room, meanwhile 
 (I thought), seeming to be placidly reading 
 my book, or demurely working at my 
 embroidery, whilst the clock went ticking 
 on and on, past the appointed hour. The
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 129 
 
 centre window, as was usual upon summer 
 evenings, w^oulcl have been left wdde open, 
 and to step out into the garden, and w^alk 
 as far as the terrace, would be but the 
 affair of a few moments. Often and often, 
 upon warm nights, I had done this before ! 
 Miss Warden, who rarely went out of doors 
 after dinner, would see nothing odd in this 
 proceeding. It might seem rather cruel to 
 the Prince, no doubt, not to come out, and 
 say a few kind words to him, when I could 
 manage it so easily, but I had said decidedly* 
 that I would not be there, and I w^ould 
 adhere to my word ! . . . 
 
 If he had only said to me, '^ 1 love you ; 
 come to me, because I cannot bear to leave 
 you without a tender word of farewell ! " 
 I might, perhaps, have decided differently, 
 seeing that it would have seemed so good 
 to be loved ! But, although from his 
 manner, I had certainly been led to suppose 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 TUE STORY OF 
 
 that I had aroused in him sentiments of 
 interest or curiosity, he had said nothing to 
 me of this kind. It was too soon, perhaps, 
 for him to make me a declaration of affec- 
 tion; but then, surely, it was too soon, 
 also, for me to agree to an assignation with 
 him in the garden ! 
 
 No ! He had asked me to meet him (I 
 ^aid to myself) merely to test the strength 
 of his mesmeric powers — to try some sort of 
 cold-blooded experiment upon me ! " You 
 will know that with me you will be as safe 
 as with your father or with your cousin," 
 he had said. This was to show me that 
 there would be no question of anything 
 tender or sentimental. " I will prove to 
 her that I possess a power over her " (he 
 had probably said to himself). " She shall 
 see that I can compel her to come to me, at 
 any hour, and at any place I may appoint." 
 His heart had had nothing whatever to
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 131 
 
 do with his proposal. It was merely a 
 question of loill, and I was certainly not 
 going to commit an indiscreet act merely 
 for the privilege of being mesmerised, or 
 biologised, or subjected to some manner of 
 mental vivisection ! 
 
 This is as correct a description as I am 
 able to give, now, of the state of my feelings 
 during the greater part of the night which 
 followed upon the Prince's visit. 
 
 Towards morning, however, I fell into a 
 troubled sleep, and dreamed a vague, in- 
 coherent, miserable kind of dream. I 
 fancied that the Prince was, for some 
 reason, in terrible agitation and distress 
 of mind. At first we seemed to be in a 
 large, empty, rambling sort of house, larger 
 than any house I had ever beheld — cold, 
 damp, and deserted-looking, with carpet- 
 less floors, and walls which, between the 
 folds of some faded tapestry, displayed the 
 
 k2
 
 132 THE STOrvY OF 
 
 rougli-hewn divisions in the masonry. I 
 felt the cold and dreariness of the place 
 chill me to the very marrow of my hones. 
 The Prince was wandering from room to 
 room, seeking for me, and calling me hy 
 my name ; hut, although I could see him 
 perfectly from the place where I stood, 
 I felt paralysed, and found -it impossible 
 to respond to his call. Then the whole 
 scene changed, hut the Prince was still 
 there — this time nearly up to his neck in 
 black turbid water, which, as it dripped 
 from his hands, seemed to take the colour 
 of blood. On his face was a look of horror 
 and supplication. I was standing upon 
 some stone steps, a little way above him, 
 and he kept on holding out his hands to me 
 as if entreating me to come to his rescue ; 
 but again I seemed to be utterly incapable 
 of moving liand or foot in his service. 
 
 When I awoke I felt prostrated, both in
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 133 
 
 mind and body. I was conscious, for the 
 first time, that I possessed a nervous system, 
 
 and that it seemed to be shattered. Mv 
 
 » 
 
 feelings towards Prince Crecszoleski had 
 undergone a decided change. I felt no 
 longer so anxious to oppose his will. My 
 dream appeared to have made me much 
 more intimate with him, and I seemed to 
 understand that, from some inexplicable 
 cause, he was in bitter need of my help. 
 A feeling of intense compassion invaded 
 my whole being. It did not make me fanqy 
 that I was in love with him exactly, but 
 it drove from my heart the notion that he 
 was an alien and a stranger — to be mis- 
 trusted, perhaps, and feared a little as well. 
 I felt more, now, as if I stood in some kind 
 of responsible position with regard to a 
 persecuted and defenceless being, whose 
 sufferings I alone should be enabled to 
 soothe.
 
 134i TUE STOllY OF 
 
 I think that, at this period of my life, 
 in spite of an unquestioning faith which 
 rendered me perfectly at rest upon the sub- 
 ject of Orthodox Belief, I was, perhaps, 
 superstitious rather than religious, attaching 
 a great deal of secret importance to signs 
 and omens, and never doubting but that, 
 in any special emergency, there would be 
 some sort of providential interposition upon 
 my behalf, if only I could be inspired to 
 read the message aright. 
 
 Seeing, therefore, that I had become so 
 weakened in my endeavour to oppose what 
 seemed, now, more like the working out of 
 a predestined plan than the mere caprice 
 of an individual ; — seeing, also, that it was 
 Thursday morning, and that, if I meant to 
 acquaint the Prince with any change in my 
 decision, I ought to get my letter ready by 
 half-past seven that very evening, in order 
 that he might receive it by the first post
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 135 
 
 on Friday ; — I made up my mind that I 
 would be guided entirely by what the day 
 brought forth in the way of inclining or 
 opposing influences. That I would care- 
 fully observe and analyse — that is to say, 
 every circumstance, however trivial — which 
 might occur between the early morning 
 and the evening post, and be guided, in my 
 subsequent conduct, by the direction in 
 which these circumstances should seem to 
 tend, independently of all personal incli- 
 nation or objection. ^ 
 
 I had scarcely arrived at this resolution 
 when a letter was put into my hand. 
 
 '' Ah ! thank heaven ! " I said to myself, 
 after I had read its contents. ^' All has 
 been decided for me. I need struggle and 
 do battle no more ! " 
 
 The letter consisted of a few lines from 
 old Matthews, the butler, who had gone 
 with my father to London some weeks ago.
 
 136 THE STORY OF 
 
 Sir Harry bad not been very well ; bis 
 doctor advised a cbange, and be was re- 
 turning to Nortbover tbat very afternoon 
 by tbe tbree-twenty express from town. 
 "Would I send tbe brougbam to tbe station 
 to meet bim ? 
 
 Tbis intelligence, to my mind, entirely 
 disposed of tbe Prince's romantic visit, and 
 I must confess tbat I experienced a sense of 
 intense relief in consequence. 
 
 My fatber's babit of wandering about at 
 odd bours, bis dislike and mistrust of 
 strangers, would make it impossible for me 
 to accede, now, to tbe Prince's request even 
 if I bad felt inclined to do so. Witb Sir 
 Harry, too, would arrive by tbis same tbree- 
 twenty express, one '' Nero " — to wit, a for- 
 midable-looking dun mastifP, ferocious as 
 bis imperial namesake of old time — wbose 
 particular vocation was to prowl about tbe 
 garden in tbe evening, witb tbe object of
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 137 
 
 alarmiDg trespassers. The Prince could not 
 think mo heartless, or insensible, for not 
 wishing him. to be mauled by this terrible 
 animal ! My spirits rose with the con- 
 sciousness that my responsibility in the 
 matter had ended. 
 
 Miss Warden, to whom master and dog 
 were alike alarming, seemed not a little 
 surprised at the satisfaction I displayed at 
 the news of their return. Notwithstanding 
 her tried affection, however, I dared not 
 confide to her my reasons, fearing lest 
 she should endeavour, perhaps, to influence 
 me, when I desired that Eate, and Eate 
 alone, should be my guide. 
 
 As I was sitting towards mid-day in the 
 old summer-house, which in spite of myself 
 I could not help regarding now with senti- 
 ments of romantic interest, a servant came 
 out to me with a telegram from my father's 
 London physician. It ran thus : — 
 
 " Sir Harry seriously unwell. Unable to
 
 138 THE STORY Or 
 
 travel. At his request have telegraphed to 
 Colonel Davenant. Will write." 
 
 E^evulsion of feeling ! Over- setting of 
 previous determination ! Douht, uncer- 
 tainty, vacillation, to be my portion once 
 more ! . . . 
 
 Miss Warden, who had followed the foot- 
 man in order to ascertain what the telegram 
 was about, was evidently relieved at learn- 
 ing its purport. 
 
 I silently realised that, if I intended still 
 to be guided by circumstances, the Prince 
 had certainly scored a point. 
 
 But no ! " Stay, James !" I called out to 
 the retreating footman. " Ask the mes- 
 senger to wait ; 1 shall have an answer to 
 send back ! ' Seriously unwell ! ' " I re- 
 peated, turning to Miss Warden, " ' Tele- 
 graphed to Colonel Davenant ' ? " How 
 much that was ominous might lurk in these 
 few words ? My poor unhappy father ! — (I 
 thought, the tears coming into my eyes) —
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 139 
 
 irritable, unreasonable, utterly wanting in 
 all dignity and self-control ; but still much 
 more bis own enemy than be was anybody 
 else's; and, over and above everything, in 
 spite of all his shortcomings, still my only 
 remaining parent ! "What if I should never 
 behold him again ? Had I been dutiful 
 and affectionate enough to him ? I asked 
 myself, reproachfully. As his daughter — 
 the only child of the woman he had once 
 so tenderly loved — ought I not to have 
 penetrated, by force, the reserve which I 
 had allowed to grow up between us, and 
 conquered, by the sheer strength of my 
 devotion, a way to his suffering heart ? 
 
 I would go to him now, at any rate ; on 
 this I was determined ! I would telegraph 
 to this effect immediately, await a reply, 
 and then start off to London by an after- 
 noon train ! 
 
 I informed Miss Warden of my decision.
 
 liO THE STOllY OF 
 
 and that I should take Mason with me, who 
 would be able to make herself useful as a 
 nurse, after which I wrote and despatched 
 my message. 
 
 The voice of Prince Crecszolcski, calling 
 out to me through the echoing rooms of 
 the deserted mansion of my dream, seemed 
 to grow fainter and fainter, the dark blood- 
 stained waters to rise, higher and higher, 
 round his struggling form ! For one moment, 
 a sense as of his bitter need of me, oppressed 
 me to such an extent that I was upon the 
 point of recalling my message. Then I ex- 
 perienced a feeling of relief, of thankfulness, 
 and of soothed and satisfied conscience. 
 
 I went upstairs to my room and informed 
 Mason of my determination to go to Lon- 
 don. She heartily approved of it, and 
 commenced getting together the wearing 
 apparel that I should require during my stay. 
 
 At about half-past two came my father's
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 141 
 
 reply to my telegram. I tore open the 
 brown envelope with trembling fingers and 
 read these words : — 
 
 '' Do not require you. Unnecessary to 
 come. You will only be in the way." 
 
 The luminous sea-green eyes seemed to 
 smile now ; the finely-cut lips to curl scorn- 
 fully, whilst the soft low voice murmured : 
 
 " You thought to escape me ! But no ! 
 I said that you would do as I desired, and 
 you will be there !" 
 
 I was deeply wounded at my father's 
 message. All the dormant yearnings of 
 affection which, awakened by apprehen- 
 sions a& to his possible danger, had fluttered 
 forth from my heart upon eager wings, 
 seemed to have been driven back crushed 
 and humiliated. 
 
 He "did not require" me; it was "un- 
 necessary " for me to go, for I should " only 
 be in the way !"
 
 142 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 The advantage, if such it could be called, 
 was now upon the side of the Prince ; hut 
 I was averse to letting matters rest thus. 
 I would go and seek for some fuller revela- 
 tion. My father had failed me in the hour 
 of my need. I would go and ask counsel 
 of my mother, kneeling by her quiet grave 
 in the green churchyard, and accej)t as final 
 the impressions which came to me at that 
 hallowed spot.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I WENT, forthwith, into the garden, and 
 gathered a bunch of the sweetest flowers I 
 could find ; and then, passing through a 
 gate which led across the deer-park, I came 
 to the little Norman church, near to which 
 my mother was sleeping. 
 
 She had not been laid in the family vault 
 of the Davenants, amongst my father's 
 departed kinsfolk, and I did not regret this 
 now, since I should not have been able to 
 go and commune with her in that gloomy 
 place. Her grave was green and daisy- 
 starred, as I should wish my own to be, if
 
 144 THE STORY OF 
 
 I could have the choosing of it, in a remote 
 corner of the old church-yard, some way 
 from all the more important monuments. 
 Prohahly she may have expressed a desire 
 to be buried in this quiet spot. IST o stone, 
 or record, of any kind, had been set above 
 her, and I should never have recognised her 
 grave if I had not had it pointed out to me, 
 long ago, by some of the old servants. Two 
 stakes of hazel rose at the head and foot 
 of the grassy mound, to mark out the space 
 which was not to be encroached upon by 
 the newer dead ; but, beyond this, there 
 was neither name nor sign to tell who was 
 " the dreamer that now slept." Some day, 
 no doubt, Sir Harry intended to erect a 
 fitting monument to the memory of the 
 wife he had loved so well ; but he was not, 
 now, in a mood favourable to the carrying 
 out of projects, and probably nobody liked 
 to remind him of so painful a subject.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 145 
 
 There were no more graves beyond my 
 mother's, her narrow bed being upon the 
 extreme edge of one portion of the burying- 
 ground, only shut off from a sweet uncon- 
 ^ecrated hayfield — which a little while 
 before had been waving with meadow 
 flowers and fluttering with butterflies — by 
 a low hawthorn hedge and a grey wooden 
 paling. 
 
 It was to this side of her grave that 1 
 betook me now. I placed my tribute of 
 flowers upon the grassy mound, and then> 
 covering my eyes w^ith my hands, I knelt 
 down and strove to commune with, and 
 appeal to, the gentle spirit that had departed 
 for ever from the earth. I possess the 
 power of summoning up before me the faces 
 of those who are dead, or absent, till I can 
 see them as plainly as I can see my own 
 face in a mirror. My mother's image had 
 not faded in the least from my memory, 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE STORY OF 
 
 and I could recall it quite distinctly, as I 
 had seen her for the last time, in her white 
 night-dress, with her dark hanging hair 
 and her sweet girlish face looking anxious 
 and startled. 
 
 As I knelt thus by the side of her grave, 
 transported, in imagination, to the days of 
 my childhood, and utterly oblivious, for 
 the moment, to my actual surroundings, a 
 sudden impression, uninvited by either pre- 
 vious suspicion or conjecture, took pos- 
 session of my mind. An inward voice 
 seemed to inquire of me, now, for the first 
 time, whether I could make sure, after all, 
 that my father had been so devotedly 
 attached to my mother ? Whether, on the 
 contrary, his behaviour since her death 
 was not more like what might have been 
 occasioned by the prickings of a tardily 
 awakened remorse, or by some inexplicable 
 feeling of vindictive resentment, than by
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 147 
 
 the grief which must follow upon the loss 
 of an earthly treasure ? 
 
 Why had my father treated me with such 
 coldness and neglect ever since he had been 
 left a widower ? Why did everything con- 
 nected in any way with my mother's 
 memory, her friends, her room, her portraits, 
 become suddenly so unendurable to him? 
 And why was she resting, now, in this 
 obscure and nameless grave, with nothing 
 to distinguish it from those of the peasant- 
 folk — elbowing her hard by — save those two 
 hazel-stakes, set there as though in antici- 
 pation that a vampire might rise from that 
 cold and inanimate breast ? The most 
 generous manner of criticising the actions 
 of another is, surely, by endeavouring — 
 with all due allowance for exceptional cir- 
 cumstance or individual impulse — to put 
 one's self in that other one's place; and I 
 
 began to speculate, now, as to how I should 
 
 L 2
 
 148 THE STORY OF 
 
 have behaved had I found myself in the 
 position of a widower with one child, who 
 had been devotedly attached to his departed 
 wife. 
 
 It occurred to me that, had I been Sir 
 Harry Davenant, a rich man, with all the 
 resources of Art at my disposal, and had I 
 found myself thus bereaved, in the after- 
 noon of life, when I had no inclination to 
 form new ties, I should, probably, as soon 
 as the first agony of my grief had subsided, 
 have set about raising some beautiful tomb 
 or mausoleum, wherein all that remained of 
 my beloved might be worthily enshrined. 
 I felt convinced that no project would be of 
 greater interest to me than the planning 
 and devising of this memorial, and that one 
 of the most satisfying of my remaining con- 
 solations would be derived from watching its 
 gradual progress towards completion. Then, 
 before this, or after it, according to my taste
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 149 
 
 and temperament, 1 should have the health 
 and education of my child to superintend — 
 the child that was her child as well as my 
 own — reproducing (most likely) in form, 
 feature, or voice, something of the beloved 
 being who had gone from me for ever ; and 
 then, too, I might strive to aid and comfort 
 any poor desolate people who came in my 
 way, and who were afflicted as I was. 
 
 Looked at from this point of view, my 
 father's conduct appeared to me to have 
 been both unfeeling and inconsistent — as 
 regarded his wife's memory, his wife's child, 
 his wife's final resting-place. As I glanced 
 towards the humble graves that lay around 
 me, I saw that there was scarcely one of 
 them, of recent date, upon which some care 
 in the form of growing flowers, or gathered 
 nosegay, had not been lavished. A tufted 
 cypress intervened between my mothers 
 grave and that of the nearest of her rustic
 
 150 THE STORY OF 
 
 neighbours, a village carpenter, as I learnt 
 from the inscription upon the wooden head- 
 piece ; — a crockery mug, full of double 
 daisies and wall-flowers, bedecked his grassy 
 bed, and told of the ministration of tender 
 hands ; but upon her grave no sign or 
 symbol of affection from the husband who 
 had been supposed to love her so well in 
 life ! When I and my flowers had faded 
 and passed away, who would ever turn aside 
 to drop a tear upon this nameless and for- 
 saken spot ? 
 
 As I meditated thus, I was startled at hear- 
 ing the sound of a long-drawn sigh, proceed- 
 ing from close to where I was kneeling; 
 and, peeping between the branches of the 
 tufted cypress, I perceived the figure of a 
 woman, crouched down at the further side of 
 the poor carpenter's grave. She had covered 
 her face with her hands, and seemed to be 
 silently weeping. When she removed them
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 151 
 
 I saw that she was a hard-featured daughter 
 of toil — looking like a harvester, or farm- 
 servant — neither young nor comely, but 
 with a faithful, earnest face, idealised now 
 by the refining influence of sorrow. 
 
 I rose from my knees, so that she might 
 know that she was not alone. It was 
 evident that she had arrived after me at 
 the churchyard, and had not perceived me 
 till now. She seemed to be confused at 
 my presence. 
 
 " Good afternoon," I said, thinking to put 
 her more at her ease. 
 
 " Good afternoon, miss,'* she repeated, 
 wiping her eyes with her coarse linen 
 apron. " You've got somebody lying here, 
 too ?" she inquired of me by-and-by. 
 
 "Yes, my mother;" and I pointed to the 
 nameless grave. *' She is next to — your hus- 
 band, perhaps?" . . . 
 
 "No, miss," she answered sadly, "we
 
 152 THE STORY OF 
 
 didn't never go to church toj^ethcr — me and 
 him, — but was just as fond and true as if 
 we had. But one day he asked me to do 
 something that I said I would see him lying 
 here dead before I'd agree to, and we didn't 
 part friendly. And, next day, I heard that 
 he'd fallen off a ladder and was taken to 
 his account; and so I couldn't never make 
 it up with him again. And now, miss, that 
 he's dead and gone, there isn't any mortal 
 thing that I wouldn't be ready to do for 
 him if he was to ask me ; and so, whenever 
 I can find time to run over from my situa- 
 tion, I come here and tell him this, and it 
 seems to make me feel much easier; and 
 though he can't ever ask me for anything 
 no more, it makes me fancy that he knows 
 just how it all happened ! It's a long while 
 ago now, miss ; but it seems all quite fresh 
 in my mind !" 
 
 We passed out of tlic churchyard together.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 153 
 
 and along the short bit of highway road 
 which lay between us and the park. Her 
 simple un grammatical words, uttered with 
 the rough ^' burr '' peculiar to my native 
 shire, had impressed me deeply. 
 
 '* Good day, miss," she said, as I turned 
 in at the wicket-gate which led into North- 
 over Park, — " It do seem sad to leave them 
 lying there all by themselves!" and so we 
 separated. 
 
 The years that have intervened since this 
 day and the time at which I am writing, 
 have not been so many but that I can recall 
 distinctly every one of the impressions it 
 left with me, and trace their influence 
 upon my future actions. Foremost amongst 
 these, I remember, as I walked home 
 through the feathery bracken, w^as the 
 notion that, on account of my father's 
 unfortunate condition, I might be looked 
 upon for the rest of my days as a creature
 
 154 THE STORY OF 
 
 upon whom some sort of hereditary curse 
 had descended. I wondered, now, whether 
 this state of mental degeneracy might not 
 have set in, in some form, previous to my 
 mother's death, when I had been too young 
 to observe it ; and whether, in consequence, 
 she might not have been less happy with 
 him, perhaps, than had been generally 
 supposed? I realised to-day, more clearly 
 than I had ever done before, that my father 
 regarded me with feelings of absolute indif- 
 ference — if not of positive dislike — and that, 
 but for Mason and Miss Warden, the world 
 would have been singularly empty for 
 me of all sympathy and love. I was within 
 sight, now, of the grey garden terrace, with 
 its statues and urns standing out in bold 
 relief against the dark yew hedge at the 
 back ; and I could see, in fancy, the lithe 
 active figure of Prince Crecszoleski vaulting 
 lightly over the low balustrade. Was I so
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 156 
 
 rich (I asked myself) in earthly friendship, 
 or affection, that I could afford to despise 
 and cast from me either the one or 
 the other ? Ought I not, on the contrary, 
 to feel touched at, and grateful for, the 
 faintest show of kindly interest ? And 
 supposing (only ^^ supposing ^^) any such 
 interest on the part of the Prince should 
 ever ripen into anything deeper and more 
 permanent, would it not be some sort of 
 gratification to my offended vanity to be 
 able to prove to my cousin Courtenay — 
 (Courtenay, who was admitted now, as 
 though he had been a son, to the bedside 
 of my father, whilst I, his own daughter, 
 would " only be in the way ! '') — that, with- 
 out troubling my mind in the least about 
 him or his matrimonial projects, I had 
 actually succeeded, before I was twenty 
 years old, in making the conquest of this 
 handsome and distinguished stranger ?
 
 156 THE STORY OF 
 
 But then the Prince had said nothinj^ 
 whatever about either love or marriage in 
 connection with myself. 
 
 "Marriage, affection, have not hitherto 
 entered into the programme of my exist- 
 ence," (he had said to me in the garden) ; 
 ** till now, all women have seemed to me 
 like dolls." 
 
 Ah ! but the '' hitherto,'' and tlie " till 
 now " ? Were not these words intended to 
 have a special significance, and might it not 
 be in order to enlarge upon them more 
 fully that he had begged me to grant him 
 an interview in the old summer-house ? 
 Were I to keep to my original intention, 
 and follow the impulses evoked by the 
 impressions of the day, the last point had 
 certainly been gained by the Prince. The 
 words of the poor woman at the grave of 
 the carpenter, seemed to warn me that one 
 might be too obdurate, as well as too im-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 157 
 
 pressionablo, and that it was possible, when 
 it was too late, to suffer for the one as 
 severely as for the other; and then, over 
 and above everything, I was imbued with 
 the strange conviction, that my help was 
 necessary to rescue and comfort a troubled 
 and afflicted spirit. 
 
 I found Miss Warden with the tea-things 
 before her, awaiting me in the drawing-room. 
 She wondered where I could have been all 
 this long time; the tea must have become 
 quite cold ! I told her that I was neither 
 hungry nor thirsty. As I was going up- 
 stairs to my room, she exclaimed, sud- 
 denly — 
 
 "What a blessing it is, Helen, to think 
 that your friend is a real Prince, for good 
 and all ; that he won't turn out, as foreign 
 Princes so constantly do, to be a waiter, or a 
 courier, or an escaped forger ! I have quite 
 lost the feeling that there is anything about
 
 158 THE STORY OF 
 
 him in the least like Eugene Aram. He 
 shook hands — of this I took particular 
 notice — with his right hand ; and Mr. Col- 
 lingwood said that he belonged to one of the 
 most illustrious families in Poland, which is 
 now very nearly extinct/' 
 
 " He told me," I said, " that he had one 
 only sister." 
 
 '' Yes ; and he possesses an enormous 
 estate, too ; with a house which is quite a 
 palace, surrounded by forests crawling alive 
 with wolves and wild boars. This, he in- 
 formed me, he is very anxious to sell, if he 
 possibly can — (his sister and he have agreed 
 upon this between them, and there is a 
 gentleman in treaty for it now) ; — after 
 which his dream of happiness is to settle in 
 England, with an English wife, and devote 
 himself to philosophical (I think he said 
 * philosophical') studies." 
 
 '' He said all this to you yesterday ? "
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 159 
 
 ** Yes ; and he said it in such a very sig- 
 nificant way, whilst we were looking over 
 the pictures. He seems very gentle and 
 serious, and not at all proud. There's 
 only one thing I don't quite like about 
 him." 
 
 ** And that is ? " — I began, wishing to 
 annex every random impression. 
 
 **I fear," Miss Warden answered, omin- 
 ously, " that his constitution is anything but 
 robust ! There is a very curious light in his 
 eyes, which goes, I have always noticed, with 
 great delicacy, and he has such dark lines 
 underneath them. I must find out, through 
 the cards, whether he is destined to be very 
 short-lived, because this is a most important 
 consideration. Poor dear young man I I'm 
 afraid he smokes too many of those nasty 
 cigarettes, and drinks too much of that 
 dreadful green tea." 
 
 My kind friend could scarcely have ut-
 
 160 THE STORY OF 
 
 tered these words at a more critical moment. 
 Compassion, as I have already said (where- 
 fore implanted in me for this total stranger 
 I knew not), was, at this time, one of the 
 feelings uppermost in my mind. Apart 
 from this sentiment, and a sudden realizing 
 of my own desolate position, I was aware of 
 no compelling impulse. Had I been con- 
 scious that I was a prey to any kind of 
 alluring temptation, I might, perhaps, have 
 summoned to my aid stronger powers of 
 resistance. 
 
 As it was, I merely said to myself, with a 
 recklessness begotten of heart-hunger and 
 humiliation, mingling with compassion, and 
 a little, perhaps, with a thirst after some 
 sort of dramatic adventure — 
 
 " I am despised and rejected by the one 
 whose duty it should be to love and cherish 
 me. I have nobody to care for but my 
 governess and my old nurse. My father is
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 161 
 
 '* seriously unwell," but ho refuses to see 
 me. He tells me that I shall be " only in 
 the way." If he dies, I shall be at once 
 turned out of house and home by my cousin 
 Courtenay, whom I cannot bear. A rich 
 and good-looking foreign Prince appears as 
 if he could care for me. He has asked me 
 to meet him to-night in the garden, and 
 meet him I will, whatever may come of it 
 in the future ; and I will marry him, too, 
 should he desire it, and elope with him by a 
 ladder of ropes ! He is unhappy and lonely, 
 and disappointed with his life. Like me, he 
 is longing for sympathy and afPection. And 
 then, how romantic and unexpected is all 
 this ! A Prince, and a garden, and a moon ! 
 It is just like something one reads about in 
 a book I " 
 
 By half -past seven I had written a letter 
 to the Prince, with a brand-new quill pen, 
 in my boldest and most flourishing hand. I 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE STORY OF 
 
 felt that it would be unnecessary to say more 
 than these few words : — 
 
 "To-morrow evening (Friday), at ten 
 o'clock, I will be in the old summer-house, 
 as you wished;" and I then added, lest he 
 should fancy that I had been impelled by 
 tlie power of his will, " I am coming of my 
 own accord ; this has nothing to do with 
 mesmerism.'* 
 
 It was fortunate (I thought, as I directed 
 the envelope) that — thanks to Mr. Colling- 
 wood — I knew the correct way of spelling 
 the Prince's name ! 
 
 I do not suppose that a man is often able 
 to realise the various combining circum- 
 stances, utterly independent of all personal 
 influence or persuasion, which may some- 
 times induce an inexperienced and impres- 
 sionable woman to submit herself to the 
 dictates of his will. Men and women appear 
 to be guided, usually, by totally different
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 163 
 
 instincts, and, to one another, their several 
 aims and aspirations must nearly always 
 seem like sealed hooks. 
 
 I wonder whether it is the same with the 
 males and females of hirds, heasts, and 
 fishes, who appear — to us, at least — to 
 understand each other so well ? 
 
 M 2
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 No event occurred to make any change in 
 my plans before Priday evening. I realised, 
 however, as the day wore on, that a change 
 had taken place in myself. I was no longer 
 nervous, excited, impelled — as it had seemed 
 — by the voices of duty and compassion 
 alike, to respond to Prince Crecszoleski's 
 appeal. In this respect I had become totally 
 indifferent. I would keep to the appoint- 
 ment because I had written to say that I 
 would do so, that is, supposing it did not 
 rain ; but I had ceased to imagine that a
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 165 
 
 suffering ellow-creature would derive any 
 comfort from my resolve. 
 
 At about half-past nine o'clock I threw a 
 light shawl over my shoulders — as I was 
 wearing only a thin evening dress — and went 
 out through the drawing-room window upon 
 the moon-lit terrace, saying to Miss Warden 
 that I meant to stroll about the garden till 
 bed-time. 
 
 I know now — though I did not know it 
 then — that I did not feel in the least as if 
 I was about to keep an assignation with 
 a lover. No faltering feet; no changing 
 colour ; no impetuous heart-beating ! But 
 I remember thinking, in a foolish, school- 
 girlish, kind of way, that the " situation " 
 at least, was romantic, and out of the com- 
 mon order, and that it could be scarcely 
 possible — even in a novel — for the acces- 
 sories of a love-scene to be more effectively 
 grouped and disposed. I experienced, too, a
 
 166 THE STORY OF 
 
 certain satisfying sense as of a purpose — or 
 rather of a penance — achieved ; independent 
 altogether of any personal emotion to be 
 derived from it ; just as the prisoner who 
 has been helping to build the wall which 
 shuts him away from the world; or the monk 
 who has been engaged in the digging of his 
 own grave, may feel some sort of conscien- 
 tious satisfaction at the completion of his 
 labour. 
 
 The night was lovely, and as I stood upon 
 the garden-terrace, and gazed over the park, 
 my whole being seemed to become inspired 
 and spiritualised by the intense beauty of 
 the scene. The moon, I thought to myself, 
 was exactly what a moon ought to be. Eull 
 enough to bathe the far landscape in a vague, 
 mysterious, radiance ; and yet, not one of 
 those staring, bare-faced moons, whose rays 
 are almost as indiscreet as those of the sun. 
 
 The great forest trees lay massed together
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 167 
 
 amongst their shadows, and the wandering 
 streamlet was glistening like burnished silver. 
 The deer seemed all to have retired to their 
 ferny couches, but a couple of hares were 
 feeding together, — out in the open, by which 
 I knew that — as yet, at least — no human 
 footstep could be approaching. 
 
 It is difS.cult upon such occasions — even 
 where falterings and heart-beatings are want- 
 ing — to compute with anything like accuracy 
 the passing of minutes. I know not, there- 
 fore, how long I may have lingered in the 
 full moonlight-- a quarter of an hour, per- 
 haps ; or, it may be, not nearly so much — 
 then I turned down the shady walk to the 
 right, went into the old summer-house, and 
 seated mvself in one of the rustic chairs. 
 
 Over the low stone balustrade upon the 
 opposite side of the narrow pathway, I could 
 see the further woodlands shrouded in soft 
 vapoury mist, and the patch of moonlit
 
 168 THE STORY OF 
 
 forest- glade in the midst of which the two 
 hares were still feeding. I should know, 
 by watching the behaviour of these hares, 
 when the Prince was on his way towards me 
 through the deer-park. 
 
 It seemed a long time before I saw them 
 skurrying away, helter-skelter, into the ad- 
 jacent covert, and longer still — consider- 
 ing the shortness of tlie distance — before I 
 became aware of a muffled footfall upon the 
 grass, and the quick breathing of a human 
 being upon the other side of the terrace-walk. 
 Then a male figure leapt over the balustrade 
 and crossed the pathway. 
 
 I rose from my chair and went to the 
 rustic porch. 
 
 It was not the Prince ! 
 
 *'Mr. Collingwood ! '' I exclaimed, starting 
 back in amazement, as I recognised my god- 
 father. 
 
 "Ah, Ilelen,'' he said, apologetically.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 169 
 
 rather than reproachfully, as he took both 
 my hands in his, " I know, too well, that 
 I'm not the person you expected ! Don't 
 think, however, that I came here to scold 
 you. Sit down, my child, and let us talk it 
 all over." 
 
 He drew me to the rustic chair from which 
 I had just risen, and sat down upon another 
 by my side. 
 
 I felt too bewildered, and too ashamed, to 
 utter a word. 
 
 I despaired of being able to make him 
 understand the subtle and mysterious influ^ 
 ences which had combined together to drive 
 me to this imprudent act, and felt that I 
 would rather he should look upon me as 
 indiscreet, and absurdly romantic, than that 
 he should fancy that I sought to excuse 
 myself by what would seem to him like a 
 distortion of facts. 
 
 '' You hear me, Helen ? " he asked, lean-
 
 170 THE STORY OF 
 
 ing towards mc, after wc had remained for 
 some seconds in silence. " You see, dear, 
 that I am not anpi-ry with you ? I came to 
 advise you as a true friend." 
 
 He spoke very earnestly, and I perceived 
 that he seemed to be much agitated. 
 
 "I am ashamed and surprised," I faltered, 
 hanging my head. '* Tell me, wheie is the 
 Prince ? " 
 
 " In London, at this moment. I expect 
 him back again to-morrow. Perhaps you 
 would like to know, before we speak of other 
 things, how I come to be here in his place ? 
 
 I nodded assent, and he continued — 
 
 '* I don't know whether he may have told 
 you or not, but Hugo Crecszoleski has a 
 sister, older than he is by at least ten years. 
 Long ago, when I was at the Embassy in 
 Paris, she was living in Paris too. I got to 
 know her pretty well, and since jhen she 
 occasionally writes to me. She is a clever.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. l7l 
 
 eccentric, fascinating woman, and was, at 
 that time, very beautiful. She has obtained 
 a good deal of influence over those with 
 whom she has become intimate, and prides 
 herself uj)on this faculty. To her brother 
 her will seems to be law. She can make 
 him, apparently, do just what she pleases. 
 Well, this lady arrived suddenly in London 
 on Wednesday night, and wrote to inform 
 me that as it was absolutely necessary she 
 should consult with her brother at once 
 upon very important business, she proposed 
 running down here on Thursday morning 
 and staying for a few days." 
 
 *' And she is here now ?" I interrupted, 
 wondering what connection this lady could 
 possibly have with my afl'airs. 
 
 '' Indeed, no ! I wrote to tell her that I 
 could not possibly receive her. My father 
 is very old and nervous, new arrivals disturb 
 and upset him. She is a restless, excitable
 
 172 THE STORY OF 
 
 person, different, in this respect, from her 
 brother. Upon receiving my letter, this 
 morning, she telegraphed to Hugo to come 
 up to London immediately, upon this same 
 very important business." 
 
 '' And he went up at once?" 
 
 " No ; I saw, and was surprised to see, 
 that, for once, he hesitated to obey her. 
 He seemed much put out at her messagcj 
 and sent one back to know whether to- 
 morrow wouldn't suit her as well. Her 
 answer was, that she must see him to-day, 
 whereupon he started off by the next 
 train." 
 
 The Prince's absence was thus satisfac- 
 torily explained, but I had yet to learn how 
 Mr. Colling wood had become aware of his 
 intended meeting with me. 
 
 By-and-by he went on, in a tone which 
 still betrayed some emotion, 
 
 ^' I saw him off in the hall, and he drove
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 173 
 
 away. When I turned to go back to my 
 room a letter was lying upon the floor. It 
 had no envelope, and I picked it up, 
 thinking I must have dropped it myself. 
 " Northover Park " was upon the writing- 
 paper. Ah ! Helen ! You will never know 
 what came into my heart as I read your 
 words ! What regrets, what hopes and 
 fears, what dreams and memories, were 
 awakened as I looked at your peculiar but 
 beautiful handwriting ! Por one moment 
 my heart grew warm again with the deli- 
 cious emotions of youth, and T half imagined 
 that your letter must have been intended 
 for myself! " 
 
 <«Por yourself?" I exclaimed in bewilder- 
 ment. I was utterly at a loss to comprehend 
 his words. By -and -by, however, a light 
 seemed to break in on me. 
 
 " You were reminded, you mean, of some- 
 thing that once happened to yourself? Of 
 somebody you once cared for ? "
 
 174j the story of 
 
 *' Yes, the first, the last, real love of my 
 life, will ever be associated in my mind 
 with just such a moonlight meeting as this, 
 to which I was summoned by just such a 
 letter as yours. But enough of myself and 
 my departed dreams ! I am here to speak 
 to you about yourself! Do you really 
 imagine, Helen, that you are in love with 
 this man ? '' 
 
 I knew not how to answer this question. 
 I realised that, in his eyes, my conduct 
 could only seem explicable by reason of 
 some sudden and uncontrollable infatuation 
 for his guest, which had had the effect of 
 scattering my prudence to the four winds. 
 
 " I don't know," I faltered at length. 
 " I cannot say as yet. It has all been so 
 strange and so sudden '^ 
 
 " Well, dear, whether you care for him 
 or not, you must let me say my say. I am 
 not going to abuse him. I see, as well as 
 you can, all that must make him attractive
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 175 
 
 to a young creature in your lonely position. 
 I believe him to be an amiable and chival- 
 rous man, who can be trusted implicitly 
 with a woman's honour. But to trust a 
 man for an hour is a different thing to 
 trusting him for a lifetime, and I must 
 implore of you, my child, if this is nothing 
 more than a mere girlish flirtation, to let it 
 pass quietly out of your mind when the 
 object of it departs, on Monday, from this 
 place. Hugo Crecszoleski is a strange, in- 
 comprehensible being. He is not governed 
 by any of the ordinary laws which control 
 civilized man. He is a mystic, an impres- 
 sionist. He listens to, and obeys, voices 
 that nobody else can hear. He will seem, 
 perhaps, to be absorbed in some project. A 
 mysterious message comes to him, the whole 
 plan is abandoned, all interest in it ceases at 
 once ! He may care for you now, perhaps, 
 or he may merely imagine that, for some
 
 176 THE STORY OF 
 
 occult reason, it is necessary to him to 
 secure your love. Were he to marry you, 
 he might be, for a time, the tenderest and 
 most devoted of husbands ; then, one of 
 these extraordinary impressions might come 
 to him, and he would reorganise the whole 
 plan of his existence. You would be power- 
 less to reason with him — tears, entreaties, 
 would have no sort of effect — and were you 
 to place yourself in open opposition to these 
 hidden forces, I tremble to think of what 
 the consequences might be. Consider, my 
 child, whether it would be wise for a 
 woman to confide her happiness to such 
 a man ? " 
 
 " You know nothing more against him 
 than this?" I asked, my inveterate love for 
 everything that was strange, and unconven- 
 tional, causing me to be rather attracted 
 than repelled by this aspect of the Prince's 
 character.
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 177 
 
 " Nothing whatever ; I don't even know 
 that he's a member of a secret society, or 
 plotting — like so many of his countrymen — 
 to free his nation from the tyranny of Rus- 
 sia ! His title is a genuine title ; he belongs 
 to one of the most ancient and illustrious 
 families in Poland, where he possesses an 
 extensive tract of country, and he seems to 
 have an unlimited supply of cash. He must 
 need it, too, for, to judge by the letters 
 which are forwarded to him here, he pur- 
 sues his unprofitable researches in every 
 corner of the globe. Most of his country- 
 men, and countrywomen, that I have known, 
 have had an insatiable craving for gambling. 
 His sister possesses this failing, and Crecs- 
 zoleski may have played a little, too, when 
 the thing has come in his way ; but he 
 appears to be the slave of no passion. Be- 
 lieve me, Helen, he will never be the slave 
 of any woman, either — in the sense in which 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE STORY OF 
 
 the term is generally unclerstood ; nor will 
 the woman who marries him have gained 
 even a reliable master. She who hopes for 
 a friend, a lover, a protector, will find 
 out, too late, that she has linked her exist- 
 ence with a shadow. Turn all this over in 
 your mind, and pause, for God's sake, before 
 you allow yourself to become involved with 
 this strange being ! Honestly, I believe that 
 both he and his sister are a little mad, — not 
 mad enough to be shut up ; but too mad to 
 rely upon for one's happiness : toques^ as they 
 say over in France." 
 
 "Everybody seems to be mad!" I ex- 
 claimed, petulantly. " I have no doubt that, 
 to you, I seem mad myself ! " 
 
 "No, dear,'-' he answered, assuming a 
 more comfortable tone ; " I see exactly how 
 all this came about. It all comes of the un- 
 natural, solitary life you are leading down 
 here. You ought to be taken out in Lon-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 179 
 
 don ; to go to balls and parties ; and mingle 
 with young people of your own age. You 
 ought to be married to some good, honest, 
 sensible man, not to a poor, half-cracked 
 dreamer of dreams ; and then you would be 
 as happy as possible ! '' 
 
 I felt somewhat aggrieved at this purely 
 practical view of the case. 
 
 " Indeed," I said, '' I shouldn't care for 
 balls and parties, or to live amongst the 
 London fogs ! And, I assure you, it isn't 
 that I am so very anxious to be married. . . '* 
 I broke off. The utter hopelessness of 
 endeavouring to explain to another what I 
 could not altogether explain to myself, over- 
 came me with despair, and blinding tears- 
 rushed to my eyes. 
 
 '^ I see, I see, my child," answered mjr 
 godfather, cheerfully, " you don't care to be 
 married, but you want somebody to love — 
 
 Somebody to whose happiness you are neces- 
 
 N 2
 
 ISO THE STORY OF 
 
 saiy. Your heart is unoccupied, and so you 
 fancy that you are in love with the first 
 man who crosses your path, and who hap- 
 pens to possess an attractive appearance. 
 Eut there is no need to be in a hurry. 
 Things will all come right, believe me, if 
 you only give yourself time. All your 
 friends about here are anxious to help you. 
 We all see the dangers and diflBculties of 
 your present position. I was speaking of 
 this to your governess the other night. I, 
 for one, however, have not yet given up all 
 hope of another marriage for you — a mar- 
 riage which your poor mother always spoke 
 of, and which Sir Harry, when he con- 
 ducted himself more like other people, used 
 to look upon as very desirable. I believe 
 that it might easily be brought about, if 
 only you could be thrown together, I 
 allude to your marriage with Courtenay 
 Davenant."
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 181 
 
 ** I hate the very name of Courtenay Dave- 
 nant ! " I exclaimed passionately, — glad of 
 a scapegoat upon whom I could let loose 
 some of my nervous irritation. 
 
 " The little Nelly that I used to play witli 
 in the old days seems to have grown into a 
 very desperate and determined character," 
 said Mr. Collingwood, smiling sadly. "I 
 hardly think that you would hate him were 
 you to meet him now, for he's one of the 
 nicest fellows imaginable. He and I are 
 capital friends, and if he were only in Eng- 
 land, I would ask him down here, later on^ 
 for the shooting, and do everything in my 
 power to bring you together." 
 
 " It would be no use," I answered, harden- 
 ing my heart ; ^' he objects to the marriage 
 of first cousins, and so do I." 
 
 " Oh, that's all nonsense ! " rejoined my 
 godfather lightly. *'If you and he could 
 only get to know one another we should
 
 182 THE STORY OF 
 
 soon hear no more of sucli silly notions ! 
 But it is getting late, and I shall have to 
 leave you. Promise me two things, Helen, 
 before I go. Eirst, that you will reflect 
 well upon all I have said to you before you 
 do anything decisive ; and, secondly, that 
 should you ever require the protection or 
 advice of a friend, you will apply to me 
 wherever I may happen to be." He again 
 took my hands in liis, drew me towards him, 
 and looked at me earnestly and appealingly. 
 ^' I promise," I answered, impressed by the 
 earnestness of his manner. 
 
 He covered my hands with kisses — de- 
 spairing kisses as I should have fancied, if 
 only he had been a younger man — and rose 
 to go. I perceived that he was deeply 
 affected ; but could not explain the nature 
 of his emotion. 
 
 As he went out of the summer-house he 
 pulled some blossoms from the sprays of
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 183 
 
 honeysuckle that clustered about tlie en- 
 trance, and pressed them to his lips. 
 
 " I shall keep these as a remembrance of 
 your promise," he said — " of our meeting 
 this evening, and of this lovely and hallowed 
 spot ! . . . Good night I "
 
 CHAPTEH XII. 
 
 I HOPED, afterwards, that Mr. Collingwood 
 wholly understood that, by the words " I 
 promise,'' I meant that I would indeed 
 reflect upon his warning, and regard him 
 ever as my true friend for having uttered 
 it, reserving for myself, however, full liberty 
 of action after fulfilling his wishes in these 
 two respects. 
 
 Be this how it may, in less than a month 
 from the time of this friendly warning, after 
 much painful uncertainty and wavering of 
 purpose, I yielded to what seemed to me 
 like an irresistible pressure, proceeding, as
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 185 
 
 it were, from every point of the compass, and 
 was married privately to Hugo Crecszoleski 
 in a London church. 
 
 It all came to pass after the following 
 fashion : — The Prince called upon me at 
 Northover upon his return from London. 
 With Mr. Collingwood's words still ringing 
 in my ears, I listened in a somewhat critical 
 spirit to his explanations, eagerly on the 
 look out for any inaccuracies which might 
 occur in his narrative. It corresponded, 
 however, exactly with what I had already 
 heard, and I was favourahly impressed at 
 perceiving how conscientiously precise this 
 man of mysteries had heen in his account 
 of all that had occurred. 
 
 He was vexed beyond measure, he said, 
 at his sister's unexpected summons. He 
 had endeavoured, at first, to procure a delay 
 of twelve hours, and had telegraphed to her 
 to this effect. Her reply was that she must
 
 ISO THE STORY OF 
 
 sec liini immediately, and lie responded at 
 once to what he now regarded as the voice 
 of Destiny. 
 
 '' When an obstacle to any cherished 
 project arises in your path," he said, "it 
 is wise to commence by battling with it, 
 Wlien, however, it re-appears, in sj)ite of 
 opposition, you become aware that a force 
 is in motion wdiich it is beyond your power 
 to resist, that a voice is speaking which 
 must utter the last word. To the dictates 
 of what other mentor are we to listen ? " 
 
 He spoke with so much apparent fervour 
 of conviction that I was afraid he would 
 have thought me old-fashioned, and common- 
 place, if I had ventured to say anything 
 about prayer or the dictates of conscience ! 
 
 His interview with his sister, he next 
 informed me, had been productive of very 
 satisfactory results. 
 
 She had desired to consult him with
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 187 
 
 regard to the sale of liis Polish estates — 
 a project they had both contemplated for 
 years. The Prince was the last male repre- 
 sentative of his family. His sister was a 
 widow and childless. She had liitherto 
 preferred wandering from place to place 
 to remaining in a fixed home; and if she 
 ever made up her mind to settle perma- 
 nently it would probably be in Paris, 
 Petersburg, Vienna, — some large city, for 
 she held the country in utter abomination. 
 They had decided between them, therefore, 
 that if only a purchaser could be found it 
 would be to their mutual advantage to dis- 
 pose of the property. 
 
 '' I am deeply interested,'' the Prince had 
 proceeded to explain, '^ in researches which 
 it is very difficult for me to pursue in such 
 an out-of-the-way place. I should never 
 reside there, in consequence. I have gone 
 there, perhaps, once or twice, for the sake
 
 188 THE STORY OF 
 
 of the hunting, in the last five or six years, 
 but this is all. Were I to marry, I could 
 never condemn my wife to bury herself in 
 such a desolate place — she would object to 
 it as much as did my sister. I have 
 memories about it, it is true, but they are 
 not all pleasant ones, and memories may 
 be made wherever we like ! The money 
 that should come to me by this sale would 
 enable me greatly to extend the field of my 
 philosophical and psychical investigations, 
 and I should be able, also, to purchase an 
 English estate, and thus make my prin- 
 cipal home in the centre of an enlightened 
 civilisation." 
 
 But a rambling, medieval castle — partly 
 ruinous, and wholly out of repair, although 
 some portions of the surrounding estate 
 were extremely profitable, and might, with 
 attention, be made to produce far more 
 than they did at present — did not appear.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 189 
 
 to many people, evidently, to be a very 
 desirable possession, and for years, now, the 
 Prince and his sister had almost despaired 
 of finding a purchaser. 
 
 " Mais tout vient a qui sait attendre^^ 
 the Prince had gone on to say. " My sister, 
 when in Paris the other day, falls in, in the 
 most curious manner in the world, with an 
 English gentleman, engaged in commerce — 
 a Mr. Marks, or Mark — who, quite by 
 accident, meeting my sister in the public 
 reading-room of an hotel, addresses her 
 in a few polite phrases. My sister 
 replies; they talk upon various subjects. 
 The conversation, by one of those re- 
 markable coincidences which we are, as 
 yet, powerless to explain, turns upon the 
 purchase of landed estates, and it then 
 transpires that Mr. Marks — an enthusiastic 
 lover of the chase, especially of that of 
 wolves and wild boar — has long desired to
 
 190 THE STORY OF 
 
 purcLasc a property in Poland precisely of 
 the description of that which we have for 
 long been so anxious to sell ! He is Eng- 
 lish—a cultivated obliging person — speaking 
 fluently both Polish and German. Money 
 is no object to him whatever; the prelimi- 
 naries of the bargain are^ then and there, 
 arranged by my sister, subject, of course, 
 to my approval. I could scarcely have 
 hoped for such a remarkable stroke of good 
 fortune ! " 
 
 Mr. Marks, it appeared, had made only 
 one stipulation — a very reasonable one, as 
 Prince Crecszoleski readily admitted. He 
 desired to rent the castle for the period 
 of one year, before finally concluding 
 the purchase, which was to depend upon 
 whether the climate suited him, and 
 whether the hunting answered his expecta- 
 tions. 
 
 The Prince's sister, *^ Delphine," as he
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 191 
 
 called her, came over to London as soon as 
 the negotiations had proceeded thus far, 
 but she was only able to remain in England 
 for a few days, and hence her anxiety to 
 consult with her brother at once. 
 
 Their interview passed ofE very satisfac- 
 torily. Mr. Marks was to take up his 
 abode at the castle as soon as possible. He 
 demanded no repairs, desiring that the 
 place should be left just as it was, and 
 agreed to pay an excellent rent. So im- 
 patient was he to conclude the arrange- 
 ment, indeed, and so sanguine did he seem 
 about it, that he scarcely glanced at the 
 photograph of the castle which Delphine 
 had procured for his inspection. It was as 
 though the whole transaction had been to 
 him like the realisation of a dream. His 
 enthusiasm knew no bounds. If only he 
 continued in this same mind the Prince 
 had no doubt but that the purchase would
 
 192 THE STORY OF 
 
 be concluded as soon as the year had 
 expired. And then, after lie had informed 
 me of all these details, Hugo Crecszoleski 
 asked me if I would become his wife. 
 
 ** You need not now be exiled," he said, 
 ^' to these barbaric regions ! We can choose 
 our new home. It shall spring up whereso- 
 ever you may command. With you at my 
 side, I feel that it may be possible for me to 
 achieve great things. A wife like you, 
 with a strong, magnificent individuality, 
 is what I have hitherto needed to complete 
 my nature." 
 
 I was imbued vritli the consciousness 
 that, sooner or later, for some mysterious 
 reason, this marriage must take place, and 
 that nothing in heaven or earth, or in the 
 waters under the earth, would, be able to 
 prevent it; but I felt no awakening of a 
 warmer sympathy towards the man who 
 was destined to become my husband.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 193 
 
 I remarked, too, that, whilst addressing 
 me kindly and respectfully, the Prince 
 made no protestations of violent affection, 
 in the sincerity of which, considering the 
 shortness of our acquaintance, I might have 
 found it dijOScult to believe ; nor did he 
 appear to require any such assurances upon 
 my part. 
 
 This forbearance seemed to make my 
 own course a thousand times easier, and I 
 thanked him sincerely, in my heart, for 
 having made no attempt to work upon my 
 feelings. 
 
 I discussed the subject of our marriage 
 with him reasonably, calmly, dispassion- 
 ately — the unaccountable sense, as of pre- 
 destination, which I have already de- 
 scribed, causing my words to seem, all the 
 whQe, like a mockery to myself. 
 
 I told him that I did not consider that 
 
 we had known each other long enough to 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 THE STOKY OF 
 
 marry; that my father was an irritahlc 
 invalid, who had lately become worse, so 
 that, just at present, I should not dare to 
 speak to him upon the subject of any 
 engagement that I might form. Then, 
 thinking of what Mr. Collingwood had said 
 about linking myself to a shadow, I asked 
 him whether he was not of too roving and 
 visionary a disposition to care for the calm 
 delights of homo life, and whether a wife 
 could ever hope to have any real part in the 
 existence of one who was so absorbed in 
 mystic lore, and who acted in obedience to 
 laws which she would probably never be 
 able to understand ? 
 
 To these questions he only answered, 
 smiling quietly, and not at all ill- 
 naturedly — 
 
 " Ah ! so my good friend George has 
 been traducing me to you during my 
 absence, and this is all he can tell you to
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 195 
 
 my disadvantage ! George, as you must 
 have perceived, is pre-eminently a mate- 
 rialist — '' a sensualist," I may almost add. 
 He lias no sympathy, whatever, with the 
 spiritual aspects of life. These things are 
 purely constitutional, and we are not 
 responsible for them. ' Let us eat, drink, 
 and be merry— everything else is nothing ! ' 
 expresses his creed to the letter. You will 
 have observed this, as you know him well, 
 and also, that the best of everything must 
 always be for himself; nobody else must 
 approach it until it has ceased to please 
 him — then it may go— anybody may take 
 it who likes ! He thrusts from him, per- 
 sistently, everything that, by awakening the 
 nobler emotions, might interfere with his 
 personal complacency. His highest aim in 
 life is to be perpetually comfortable ! " 
 
 I had remarked, certainly, in Mr. Col- 
 
 lingwood's conversation, a decided vein of 
 
 o2
 
 196 THE STORY OF 
 
 practical materialism. I looked upon it as 
 his only fault, and excused it on the ground 
 of his having lived so much ahroad, in flip- 
 pant, frivolous society, where pleasure was 
 sought after rather than happiness, and 
 where people, and things, were valued less 
 for their intrinsic worth than for the 
 amusement which could be derived from 
 them at the moment. His genial, san- 
 guine, disposition, led him, no doubt, to 
 shrink from, and ignore, much that was 
 gloomy, disagreeable, and irremediable ; 
 but this characteristic rendered him, pro- 
 bably, all the more anxious to protect 
 others from what he dreaded himself; and 
 I could not doubt, after my interview with 
 him in the summer-house, that he was 
 possessed, at any rate, of a kind and afiPec- 
 tionate heart. I realised, however, that he 
 might possibly feel but little sympathy for 
 the tenets of an ascetic mysticism.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 197 
 
 With the view of overcoming my other 
 objections, the Prince suggested that I 
 shoukl arrange to stay with my father in 
 London. Had Mr. Marks desired any 
 repairs, or alterations, at the ancestral 
 chdteau he would have felt bound to super- 
 intend them himself, which would have 
 obliged him to leave England at once. As 
 it was, however, the accommodating beha- 
 viour of his tenant had relieved him of all 
 further trouble, and as his sister had con- 
 sented to arrans^e the terms of the lease 
 with Mr. Marks, in Paris, he was now 
 entirely at my disposal. My father, being 
 an invalid, would be unlikely, he said, to 
 interfere with my movements. That 
 '' amiable lady,'' my '' duenna," might be 
 taken into our confidence. If permitted to 
 do so, he should esteem it a privilege to 
 escort us over the sights of London. We 
 might visit the picture - galleries, the
 
 198 THE STORY OF 
 
 theatres, and attend, with him, some of the 
 lectures and seances which treated of those 
 spiritual matters in which he was so pro- 
 foundly interested. In this way, he said, 
 we should soon become better acquainted, 
 and if, after this fuller acquaintance, I 
 found that he was not personally disagree- 
 able to me, we might arrange to be married 
 at once. Supposing that my father's cri- 
 tical condition made me still unwilling to 
 speak to him upon the subject, or sup- 
 posing that, because the Prince was a 
 foreigner, objections and difficulties were 
 raised which might turn to my eventual 
 disadvantage, it would be as well, perhaps, 
 to take the law into our own hands, and to 
 be married privately. In London this 
 could very easily be managed, and we could 
 afterwards wait, either until Sir Harry was 
 in a less precarious state of health, or until 
 I attained my majority, before we publicly
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 199 
 
 announced our marriage to the world. All 
 this would be for me to consider. 
 
 I promised that I would turn the matter 
 over in my mind, though I could hold out 
 but little hope of being able to go up to 
 London — my father having just refused my 
 request to be allowed to attend upon him 
 during his illness. 
 
 Prince Crecszoleski then asked me, for 
 the second time, whether I had had any 
 previous attachment, and again I replied in 
 the negative. 
 
 *' Then we shall be married," he said, 
 quietly ; and after he had given me his 
 London address, and raised my hand re- 
 spectfully to his lips, he forthwith took his 
 departure.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 As soon as the Prince had quitted our 
 neighbourhood, " the plot," (to use Miss 
 Warden's absurd expression,) began to 
 " thicken " rapidly. The first sign of this 
 took the form of a letter from Colonel 
 Davenant to myself, which arrived in the 
 course of a few days, and which ran as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Dear Miss Davenant, 
 
 '•' It is so long since we met, that I dare 
 hardly hope you will still remember my 
 existence. I venture to recall mvself to
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 201 
 
 your memory, however, thinking that you 
 may like to hear the last news of Sir Harry. 
 I have just returned from sitting with him 
 now, and am glad to be able to give you 
 a favourable report. 
 
 " I interviewed the doctor, who says that, 
 with perfect quiet and good nursing, he 
 may very soon be himself again, and that 
 the unfavourable symptoms may disappear. 
 My uncle was kind enough to ask me to go 
 down to Northover, next month, for some 
 partridge-shooting, or later on, in October. 
 I have just been invited to stay at Lord 
 Silchester's on the 5th September, and 
 would propose to come on from there to 
 Northover about the 8th or 9th, if it would 
 be convenient to you to receive me at that 
 time. I go down to Cowes this afternoon, 
 and, as I propose yachting with a friend 
 after to-morrow, and may not be sure of 
 receiving my letters, it would be very kind
 
 202 THE STORY OF 
 
 of you if you would let me have an answer 
 by telegram to the Royal Yacht Squadron, 
 Cowes, Isle of Wight. 
 
 '' Looking forward to the pleasure of 
 seeing you again soon, 
 
 " Believe me to be, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " COURTENAY DaVENANT." 
 
 To anybody but to me, this would surely 
 have seemed to be a very natural and 
 inoffensive letter for a young man to have 
 written to his female cousin, erring, if it 
 erred at all, rather on the side of unneces- 
 sary formality, considering the relationship, 
 than on that of oflQ.ciousness or imperti- 
 nence. But, just at this time, Courtenay 
 Davenant could do nothing right in my 
 eyes. I remember, now, that, as I read, I 
 was inclined to take almost every word 
 amiss.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 203 
 
 *' How soon lie rushed over from abroad 
 when he heard that Sir Harry had been 
 taken ill ! " I thought to myself. " He is 
 like a cormorant, coming after the loaves 
 and fishes ! Does he suppose that, because 
 I am not in London, I hold no communica- 
 tion whatever with my father's household 
 and that he is doing me a great favour in 
 writing to me about his health ? ' I inter- 
 viewed the doctor !' . . . To find out, of course, 
 if his uncle was in any real danger, and how 
 long it was likely to be before he miglit 
 expect to succeed him, in order that he 
 might make his plans accordingly ! And 
 then, as he chanced to be now in England, 
 it had occurred to him, probably, that there 
 would be no harm, after all, in just running 
 down to Northover and taking a glance at 
 the cousin whose existence he had seemed 
 to ignore for so long ; and hence this 
 plausible, hypocritical, letter. ' Looking
 
 204 THE STORY OF 
 
 forward to the pleasure' of seeing me 
 soon^ and so on ! . . . If, after I, too, had 
 been ' iaterviewed,' my manner and appear- 
 ance happened to please his critical eye, 
 then, who could say what great honour 
 might not be reserved for me ! If not, 
 there would be no harm done — to himself, 
 at any rate ! 
 
 " He would be able to look over the house 
 and property that might so soon become his 
 own, and he would have done his country 
 cousin a kindness by condescending to visit 
 her at all ! But it is too late ! it is too 
 late ! " I thought, as with a sense of 
 triumph. *' I do not care, now, whether 
 you come and see me or not ! I have 
 done for ever with the family marriage- 
 project ! " 
 
 Nevertheless, I suppose I should have 
 replied to his letter by begging him to do 
 as he proposed about coming to Northover,
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 205 
 
 were it not that, immediately after my 
 receipt of it, events began shaping them- 
 selves hurriedly according to the wishes of 
 Prince Crecszoleski. 
 
 My father became rapidly worse ; he was 
 attacked with paralysis, and remained for 
 some days in an unconscious state. His 
 doctor telegraphed for me at once, and in 
 little more than a week from the time of 
 the Prince's departure, Miss Warden, Mason, 
 and I, found ourselves established in Lon- 
 don, at an hotel in the vicinity of Berkeley 
 Square. 
 
 In the hurry of my departure from home, 
 I entirely forgot all about my cousin and 
 his letter. Miss Warden reminded me of it, 
 however, when we were on our way to the 
 station, and that it had required an imme- 
 diate answer. We were late for our train, 
 so I had only time to leave orders with the 
 footman that he was to telegraph to Colonel
 
 200 TUB STOllY OF 
 
 "Davenant in my name, and inform him 
 that, as I had hecn suddenly summoned to 
 London, I should not he at Northover at 
 the time of his proposed visit. Then the 
 train went off, and I altogether dismissed 
 hoth him and his letter from my mind. 
 
 Sir Harry's hachelor rooms, from which 
 it had not been thought advisable to move 
 him, were close to our hotel, whilst Prince 
 Crecszoleski was staying in St. James's 
 Place. 
 
 Wishing to leave my meeting with him 
 entirely to chance, I had not written to 
 inform him of our arrival. The first time, 
 however, that Miss Warden and I went out 
 walking together, we fell in with him in 
 Pall Mall, on his w^ay to the National 
 Gallery, after which he arranged that we 
 should meet, upon one pretence or another, 
 almost every day. 
 
 My father had now a professional nurse
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 207 
 
 in close attendance upon him ; the most 
 perfect quiet had been enjoined ; so that, 
 beyond visiting his rooms every day, and 
 sitting with him whilst the nurse was rest- 
 ing, or at her meals, our time was entirely 
 at our own disposal. 
 
 Escorted by the Prince and accompanied 
 by Miss Warden, I visited picture-galleries 
 and museums, and attended lectures and 
 seances. In a very little while I felt much 
 more at my ease with him. Occasionally, 
 but not often, I experienced a recurrence of 
 the strange sensation which had oppressed 
 me in the tea-room at Ingleby Grange, but 
 the feeling seemed to become every time 
 less acute and embarrassing. It was as if 
 some sort of controlling power hitherto 
 possessed by the Prince, was gradually 
 becoming exhausted. 
 
 I tried very hard at this time to persuade 
 myself that I was in love. In this I could
 
 208 THE STORY OF 
 
 not altogether succeed; but I developed, 
 during this frequent intercourse, the 
 greatest possible respect for the Prince's 
 character and intelligence, and I had read 
 in books that love generally followed very 
 quickly upon esteem. 
 
 Miss Warden, though enthusiastic in her 
 admiration of the Prince's amiable traits, 
 was much embarrassed as to whether she 
 ought to check, or to encourage, our growing 
 intimacy. The cards -to which she turned 
 in her uncertainty — foretold anxieties, 
 travels, surprises, (very much as they 
 always did), a death, and then a fortunate 
 marriage, with one of the most devoted 
 husbands in the world, and beautiful 
 children. The death (she could not help 
 thinking) must be that of '' poor Sir 
 Harry." The reign of my cousin Courtenay 
 was evidently drawing nearer and nearer 
 every day !
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 209 
 
 Was this a time, my kind friend asked 
 herself, to discourage the attentions of a 
 rich and eligible suitor ? And yet — seeing 
 that the Prince was a foreigner — a Koman 
 Catholic (as we had lately discovered), and 
 that the whole thing had come about so 
 suddenly — she desired much to find some 
 human monitor to whom she could turn 
 for counsel. 
 
 Einally, she had almost decided to write 
 to my god-father, asking him to grant her 
 an interview in order that she might con- 
 sult with him upon my future jDrospects, 
 when we saw recorded in the fashionable 
 columns of "The Morning Post" that 
 '* The Honourable George Collingwood, Her 
 
 Majesty's Minister at " had " passed 
 
 through Paris on his way to resume his 
 diplomatic duties;" whereupon her bene- 
 volent project necessarily evaporated in 
 smoke. 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 THE STORY OF 
 
 So the days of a London September went 
 by, (of a London not in the least like the 
 gay city which I have since known, and 
 looked at with altogether different eyes), 
 and " chill October " was at hand once 
 more. By this time I had finally decided 
 to become Prince Crecszoleski's wife, and, 
 after he had made the necessary arrange- 
 ments, I walked out one morning, unknown 
 to my " duenna," and was married to him 
 according to the rites of the Protestant 
 Church. 
 
 " The Protestant religion is quite good 
 enough for me," he had made answer, when 
 I asked him about his theological opinions. 
 '* ' Heaven is a palace with many doors,' as 
 the Hindoos tell us, 'and each one has a 
 right to enter it his own way.' So let those 
 who find happiness in their purgatories 
 keep to them by all means — the whole four 
 of them ! Let the monks of Kiev build
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 211 
 
 themselves living tombs in the catacombs of 
 the Petcherskoi monastery. It is not our 
 place to sneer at the exaggerations of 
 religious feeling; but for me, Helen, the 
 simple sacraments of your Reformed Eng- 
 lish Church will suffice." 
 
 Our marriage, for the present, at least, 
 was to be kept a profound secret. Not 
 even the Prince's sister, nor my god-father, 
 were to be informed of it as yet. Miss 
 Warden, for the convenience of our future 
 meetings, was taken into our confidence 
 after the events for I feared that if I 
 had told her of our intention beforehand 
 she might be blamed afterwards for her 
 connivance, supposing that my father, 
 upon hearing of the step I had taken, 
 should think fit to visit me with his dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 One other person the Prince asked my 
 
 permission to trust with our secret — his 
 
 p 2
 
 212 THE STORY OF 
 
 valet, ZoubirofF, a keen-eyed, eunning- 
 looking Russian, who had not, somehow, 
 inspired me with unlimited confidence 
 when, upon the occasions of his calling with 
 his master's notes, I had sometimes ad- 
 dressed a few words to him. The Prince 
 assured me, however, that Zoubiroff was 
 under important obligations to him — that 
 he had been in his service for more than 
 fifteen years, and had given repeated proofs 
 of his fidelity, and discretion I did not, 
 therefore, like to refuse my husband hi^ 
 very first request. 
 
 Immediately after our marriage ^fc 
 hailed a hansom cab at the church door, 
 and drove to a jeweller's in Bond Street, 
 the Prince desiring that I should select a 
 present as a souvenir of the day. 
 
 I chose a ring — a ''cat's-eye,'* surrounded 
 by diamonds, as he seemed determined to 
 give me something expensive. He paid for
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 213 
 
 it on the spot, and we then re-entered our 
 hansom. 
 
 " It will always remind me of your eyes," 
 I said, as I looked at the ring upon my 
 finger ; '* the stone is exactly like them in 
 colour ! '' 
 
 I felt in wonderfully good spirits, and 
 fired as with a sense of perilous adventure. 
 
 The day, however, which had hegun by 
 being fine, had clouded over whilst we were 
 in church, and when I set the Prince dowr^ 
 a few doors from my destination, it was 
 raining hard. He had made elaborate 
 arrangements with me for a longer meeting 
 upon the morrow, so that we did not 
 expect to be parted for more than a few 
 hours. 
 
 *' Au revoir, belle Friti^cesse ! '' he said, 
 as he held my hand and leant towards me 
 from the street, regardless of the falling 
 rain. For the first time, I perceived an
 
 214 TUE STORY OF 
 
 expression of tenderness in his strange 
 eyes. "^ bientot, n'^est-ce pas ?^^ he added; 
 and then the cabman let down the window 
 and drove on. 
 
 Upon arriving at the hotel I was in- 
 formed by the porter that a gentleman had 
 called to see me during my absence, and 
 that, hearing I was expected to return 
 soon, he had waited for me for some time 
 in the reading-room. 
 
 I looked at the card which he left for me 
 when he departed, and read, as I lialf- 
 expected, seeing that I was acquainted 
 with so few " gentlemen " — 
 
 " Lt.-Colonel Davenant." 
 
 and, beneath the name, these few words, 
 written in pencil, — 
 
 " Very sorry indeed to have missed seeing
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 215 
 
 you. Am leaving England to-night for 
 Vienna.'' 
 
 It was quite evident, I thought, that 
 Courtenay and I were not intended to meet 
 again as yet !
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 Hugo's •' hientot^^ as it happened, turned out 
 to be a period of very nearly three months. 
 
 On the day following upon our marriage, 
 and before I had had time to see him again, 
 my husband was sent for by his sister to 
 Paris. He left a letter for me to say that 
 he would be back again with all speed. In 
 a few days, however, there came another, 
 informing me that, upon his arrival in the 
 Prench capital, he was made acquainted 
 with circumstances which would oblige him, 
 after all, to revisit Poland, in order that he 
 might make certain arrangements at his
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 217 
 
 country-house previous to the occupation of 
 Mr. Marks. 
 
 By the time that this business was com- 
 pleted, and the Prince had returned to 
 Paris, my father was considerably better, 
 and we were in daily expectation of his 
 beinj^ ordered abroad. I begged, therefore, 
 that the Prince would postpone his return 
 to England for the present, lest, by one of 
 those provoking combinations which some- 
 times occur, we might be obliged to leave the 
 country immediately upon his arrival in it. 
 
 He asked me, in reply, to endeavour to 
 induce the doctors to send Sir Harry to the 
 South of Prance — to Cannes, Nice, Mentone 
 — anywhere upon the Riviera, as he could 
 then arrange, without exciting suspicion, to 
 come to the same place — to the same hotel 
 even, so that we might '^ at last pass 
 together our honeymoon so unexpectedly 
 deferred.''
 
 218 TUE STORY OF 
 
 The doctors yielded to my suggestion 
 without any difficulty. The Riviera was 
 the very place to which they had intended 
 sendinf]^ Sir Ilarrv as soon as he could travel. 
 His health continued to improve steadily 
 after this, and, at the beginning of the New 
 Year, we took our departure from England, 
 and travelled south by easy stages. 
 
 We were accompanied by a courier, who 
 had been engaged to valet and look after 
 my father in addition to his other duties, by 
 Mason, and by a professional nurse, who 
 was to attend exclusively to the invalid. 
 
 Since my father's paralytic attack his 
 nature seemed to have undergone an entire 
 change for the second time. He was now 
 much more docile and tractable. His 
 mental powers were evidently a good deal 
 impaired ; he forgot easily, sometimes even 
 seeming scarcely to recognize us, repeated 
 himself constantly, and laughed and wept
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 219 
 
 at odd, unaccountable, moments, but he was 
 much more capable than he had been pre- 
 viously of mere animal enjoyment. He 
 slept well, ate heartily, and enjoyed the 
 sunshine, and there were days when he 
 would appear to be even interested in read- 
 ing the newspapers, and in listening for 
 awhile to our conversation. His mood, in 
 fact, was more like that of a young child, 
 who is cheerful and free from care, in spite 
 of its lielpless dependence upon others. He 
 had completely lost the use of his left arm, 
 but could move the right one almost as ^j^ell 
 as ever, and as the days went by he began 
 to walk a little with the assistance of his 
 attendant. 
 
 We had quite decided, now, upon the place 
 at which we intended to sojourn. Our 
 courier, who had been accustomed to travel 
 with persons in delicate health, knew of a 
 quiet and comfortable hotel in the environs of
 
 220 THE STORY OF 
 
 Nice. It was situated two miles at least 
 from the towni (of which, with its life and 
 movement, one might see just as much — or 
 as little — as one desired), upon a southern 
 hill-slope, amongst grey olive-grounds, with a 
 view of snow-capped mountains at the hack. 
 The families that frequented it were chiefly 
 English, our courier informed us, and " very 
 select " — elderly personages of rank, or 
 " clergymen of the Established Church ;" 
 for it was too far from the town to be a 
 popular resort with more frivolous pleasure- 
 seekers. Hence it was the place of all others 
 for an invalid. Having made up my mind 
 to endeavour to '' love, honour, and obey " 
 the man who could scarcely, as yet, be 
 called my husband, and to consult him upon 
 every subject which could affect our hap- 
 piness, I wrote to him for instructions imme- 
 diately upon our arrival at Nice. 
 
 He begged me, in reply, to wait for a
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 221 
 
 day or two until I had ascertained wliether 
 the hotel suited us, and then to engage 
 a suite of apartments which should include 
 an additional room communicating with it, 
 as if for an expected friend. When I 
 had done this, I was to make a little plan 
 of the apartment, and send it to him at 
 Monte Carlo, which he intended to make 
 his headquarters for the present, and he 
 would then write to the proprietors of the 
 hotel, or send an emissary, if need be, 
 requesting that a room might be retained 
 for him answering precisely to the descrip- 
 tion I had furnished of the extra one adjoin- 
 ing our own. The people of the hotel would 
 then be almost certain to ask us to give it 
 up to the Prince, which we should agree to 
 do, after a little show of hesitation, our friend 
 being supposed to have postponed his in- 
 tended visit. 
 
 These somewhat complicated tactics an-
 
 222 THE STORY OF 
 
 svvercd perfectly, and I could not repress a 
 feeling of inward triumph when the land- 
 lady, after showing us, with pride, the letter 
 which she had just received from the Polish 
 Prince, demanded of us, as a great favour, 
 the sacrifice of our additional hedroom, 
 " Son Altcsse etant un de nos plus anciens 
 clients y 
 
 At about four o'clock on the following 
 day we were informed that *' Son Alt esse " 
 had arrived. My windows looked out upon 
 the garden, so that I did not see him drive 
 up to the door. 
 
 He had considered that it would be wiser, 
 in order to disarm suspicion, not to appear 
 as though he had known us before, but to 
 seem to make our acquaintance by accident, 
 whenever a favourable occasion should pre- 
 sent itself. Upon the evening of his arrival, 
 however, as soon as the household had 
 retired to rest, he had arranged to come
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 223 
 
 through to our sitting-room, and to have an 
 interview with me there. 
 
 The hotel at which we were staying, once 
 an Italian palace — and which I shall here 
 call the Villa St. Hippolyte — was large and 
 rambling. Our sitting-room was a spacious 
 apartment, with a vaulted ceiling, appro- 
 priately adorned with frescoes representing 
 hovering cupids, and an appearance of faded 
 magnificence. Opening out from it upon 
 the left hand was my bedchamber, looking 
 out, like the sitting-room, into a lovely old 
 terraced garden. Beyond this, again, w^s 
 Miss Warden's, then Mason's, both having 
 a different aspect, and then came my father's 
 apartments, consisting of several rooms, 
 which he never quitted during the day 
 except when he went out to take the air, 
 and which opened upon a corridor upon the 
 opposite side of the house. To the left of 
 our sitting-room, and likewise opening into
 
 224 THE STOUY or 
 
 it, was a small anteroom, scarcely more than 
 a cupboard, in which we had deposited our 
 travelling-boxes, and next to this was the 
 apartment now occupied by my husband, 
 which possessed another entrance, leading 
 into a passage so far away from our own 
 that no casual observer would have supposed 
 that any communication existed between 
 the rooms. 
 
 It was through this box-room that Hugo 
 was to come to me as soon as everything 
 was quiet. I had obtained possession of the 
 key, which was upon our side of the door, 
 and had only to turn it as soon as the hour 
 appointed for our meeting drew near. 
 
 As daylight gradually darkened to dusk 
 I became terribly restless and uneasy; I 
 wondered how the Prince would be able to 
 let me know supposing he had been obliged 
 to make any change in his original plan — 
 whether he had impressed upon ZoubirofT
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 225 
 
 the importance of discretioQ, and whether 
 it would be possible, in spite of all our pre- 
 cautions, to keep our secret effectually from 
 the people of the hotel ? 
 
 As I reflected thus, feeling very nervous 
 and apprehensive, it occurred to me that I 
 might ask to speak, upon some pretext, with 
 the Prince's valet, that I could then make 
 him a present, enjoin discretion, and inquire 
 after the health of his master. 
 
 I consulted with Miss Warden as to what 
 reason we could give for wishing to see 
 him, and she suggested that, as the Prinae's 
 room had been engaged by us, in the first 
 instance, for a friend, we might appear 
 desirous of knowing how long he would be 
 likely to require it. The waiter came in at 
 this moment, bringing our lamp. We asked 
 him whether, if Prince Crecszoleski's ser- 
 vant was anywhere within call, we could 
 speak to him upon the subject of his 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE STORY OF 
 
 master's room ? The waiter, a careless 
 Italian vouth, darted off at once to do our 
 behest, and in another moment there came 
 a quick rap at the door. We gave permis- 
 sion to enter, and a man stepped into the 
 room from behind the folds of the portiere. 
 He was a total stranger ! 
 
 I was so overcome with surprise that I 
 could not summon words to address him. 
 
 Miss Warden came to the rescue, and 
 inquired, in Prench,w^h ether she was speak- 
 ing to the Prince's valet ? 
 
 The stranger replied in the affirmative, 
 and we gathered from his speech that he 
 must be a Erenchman. By this time we 
 had recovered ourselves, and explained, for 
 the sake of something to say, that, expect- 
 ing an English friend, we had engaged the 
 room which was now occupied by the 
 Prince. Our friend, however, having post- 
 poned his visit for awhile, we had given up
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 227 
 
 the room at the request of the landlady. 
 Could we be informed how long Prince 
 Crecszoleski would be likely to remain at 
 the hotel ? 
 
 The man replied, very politely, that he 
 did not know. It was possible that hi^ 
 master would only remain till the end of 
 he week, or he might stay on for an 
 indefinite time. It was too soon, as yet, 
 for him to decide. Also, His Highness had 
 not confided to him his intentions. . . . 
 
 He bowed respectfully and retired. We 
 experienced a sense of profound relief whert 
 the door had closed upon him. 
 
 I was much perturbed at discovering that 
 
 Hugo, who had spoken so highly of Zou- 
 
 biroff's devotion, should have had reason to 
 
 dismiss him just after having confided to 
 
 him our secret, and should find himself 
 
 compelled to come, attended thus by a total 
 
 stranger, upon an occasion when the services 
 
 Q2
 
 228 THE STOKY OF 
 
 of a confidential person would have been of 
 so much value. 
 
 As I pondered thus the evening wore on. 
 
 We dined as usual at half-past seven, in 
 our own aj)artments, and at nine o'clock I 
 went to bid my father good-night. Miss 
 Warden remained with me in the sitting- 
 room until ten o'clock, and then retired, 
 after kissini]^ me affectionatelv. 
 
 The evenings were very chilly in spite of 
 the heat of the noon-day sun, and the room 
 with its black marble floor, felt to me cold 
 and tomb-like. I heaped up the fire with 
 logs and fir-cones, pulled down the blower, 
 and succeeded at last in making a cheerful 
 blaze. In the middle of the centre table 
 was a basket of flowers which I had pur- 
 chased that morning in the town — violets, 
 anemones, and branches of feathery mimosa, 
 winch gave forth a delicious perfume. As 
 I looked at these lovely southern blossoms
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 229 
 
 my thoughts wandered, I know not where- 
 fore, over sea to Northover churchyard. 
 I beheld, in fancy, the nameless grave at 
 which I had knelt and prayed for guidance ; 
 tears came into my eyes, w^hich I could 
 not control, and I wondered whether my 
 mother's pure spirit might not be hovering 
 near me at this supreme moment of my 
 existence. 
 
 Peeling that it was impossible to remain 
 still, I set about arranging upon the table 
 the few books and photographs that I had 
 brought with me from England, in order 
 to lend a home-like and familiar air to the 
 apartment. At about eleven o'clock I 
 opened the door and peeped into the 
 passage. The lights were all out, and I 
 could only distinguish a few faint sounds 
 in the far distance. It was evident that 
 all the other occupants of our particular 
 floor, at least, had retired for the night.
 
 230 THE STORY OF 
 
 With faltering footsteps, I went through 
 the box-room and up to the door of the 
 Prince's room. My hands trembled so that 
 I could scarcely turn the key in the lock. 
 It was a long, awkward, ill-made key — I 
 remember — fitting badly, and it flew back 
 suddenly with quite an alarming noise. I 
 feared that my husband's new valet, if he 
 happened to be in attendance upon him, 
 must certainly have heard it. The room 
 seemed to be perfectly quiet, however. The 
 faint odour of a cigarette was all that came 
 to me through the chinks of the closed 
 door. 
 
 I stole back again into the drawing-room 
 and waited. Peeling that I was becoming 
 dreadfully nervous and hysterical, I took up 
 the newspaper and endeavoured to read, but 
 found it utterly impossible to concentrate 
 my thoughts. I saw the printed type, it is 
 true, but its meaning entirely escaped me.
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 231 
 
 I then endeavoured to lift up my heart in 
 prayer — to pray that my union with Hugo 
 might bring liappincss to us both — but 
 alas, with no better result than when I had 
 attempted to read ! Einally, I drew the 
 sofa to the hearth and fell to wondering, 
 as I gazed into the midst of the glowing 
 embers, how the Prince would look ; what 
 he would be likely to say ; whether he 
 would seem to me to be the same person 
 as the one with whom I had parted in 
 London ; or, as happens sometimes, even 
 after a shorter separation, an altogether 
 different being ? "Whether his face would 
 look tender, or weary, or a little cruel and 
 untamed, as I had fancied that I had seen 
 it look now and then ? . . . 
 
 As I was musing thus, an old legend 
 recurred to me, about a maiden who had pro- 
 mised herself to a lover who turned out to be 
 a spectre, having only the outward similitude
 
 232 THE STORY OF 
 
 of man, with none of his passions or affec- 
 tions. A pale, ghostly bridegroom, \vhose 
 steely eye-balls glittered in the wintry 
 moonlight, whose heart lay frost-bound in 
 his hollow breast, and the kiss of whose 
 ghastly lips meant death ! Then I thought 
 of how terrible it would be if, through some 
 error or misunderstanding, the room — the 
 door of which I had just unlocked so noisily 
 — had not been given to the Prince at all, 
 but to some other man, who, bent upon 
 looking into the cause of this sudden turn- 
 ing of his key, might w^alk in through the 
 box-room, and confront me, at any moment. 
 I said to myself that, if this wxre to 
 happen, and supposing that a stranger 
 were to appear before me at this hour, the 
 state of my nerves was such that I should 
 probably scarcely survive the shock ! 
 
 I have said before how utterly impossible 
 I have always found it, in moments of
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 23 
 
 Q 
 
 emotion and suspense, to compute, with 
 anything like eoiTectness, the passing of 
 time. I know not, therefore, how long it 
 may have heen before I heard the door 
 upon the further side of the box-room 
 opened cautiously, and the Prince's foot- 
 steps stealthily approaching. 
 
 I looked up at him as he came in at 
 the door, hut felt that it would have been 
 utterly impossible for me to have risen from 
 my place. I saw that he was wearing a 
 long wrapper, or dressing-suit of dark silk 
 trimmed with sables, and that he helc]. a 
 candle in his hand which cast sharp lights 
 and shadows upon his picturesque face. 
 
 Before speaking to me he went straight to 
 the other door and secured ic. As I heard 
 the key turn in the lock my heart seemed to 
 stand still with emotion. Eor the first time 
 since my marriage, I realized that I had 
 promised to give myself, body and soul.
 
 23 ii TUE STOIir OF 
 
 into the power of this man, and my heart 
 failed me. 
 
 He came towards me ; I could only stare 
 blankly in his face. 
 
 I saw that he looked neither tender, nor 
 weary, nor cruel. He looked ir'mmphant ; 
 the look of all others which, in some cir- 
 cumstances, must seem least congenial to a 
 w^oman's feelings. 
 
 I shrank back instinctively. He came to 
 me, took my hand, drew me to the sofa, 
 and looked in my face inquiringly. Then 
 he asked me to tell him, once, of my own 
 free will, whether I thought I now cared 
 for him a little ? 
 
 I knew not w^hat to answer at that 
 moment w^hich should not wound or dis- 
 appoint him; so, to gain time, I stroked 
 the sable upon the breast of his coat with 
 the hand he had left me free ; smoothing it 
 down the right w^ay of the fur, and feeling
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 235 
 
 the while as if I must soon break down and 
 begin weeping: 
 
 Now that my hand was so close to his 
 heart I could feel that it was beating 
 violently. It came into my mind that 
 although wild and uncontrollable passions 
 might be lying, as it were in ambush, 
 beneath that smooth brown fur, yet, because 
 of this, I was assuredly not in the presence 
 of any spectre bridegroom, but of a being 
 of flesh and blood, and this reflection 
 had the effect of somewhat restoring my 
 
 courage. 
 
 " I suppose that you have ' willed ' all 
 this ? " I found voice to say at last. 
 
 *'Ah, Helen!" he answered, as though 
 half reproachfully, '^ cannot you see that 
 all my will has departed ? When we, in 
 our family, realize that our power of will 
 has gone from us, we know well wiiat it 
 signifies ! "
 
 236 TUE STORY OF 
 
 '* Why have you lost it? '' I asked, won- 
 dering. " You look the same — better than 
 you did before. Why do you say your will 
 is gone ? " 
 
 "I have lost it," he answered, opening 
 his arms to me; "because the moment has 
 come when, for the first time, I can truly 
 love ! A new life opens before me, of which 
 you are the absolute controller ; I give into 
 your keeping both my will and my heart ! " 
 
 Then, looking up, I beheld, just over my 
 head, the merry group of rosy Loves, sport- 
 ing, like circling butterflies, amongst the 
 blue and amber clouds upon the ceiling, 
 and I remembered that this was the meeting 
 to accomplish which I had been planning 
 and plotting for weeks. 
 
 How often have I beheld them since— in 
 fancy — those circling cupids ! Somebody 
 told me, the other day, that the beautiful 
 old villa St. Ilippolyte was now all deserted
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 237 
 
 and dismantled ; that bills of sale were set 
 up in its broken windows, and that the 
 lovely terraced-garden was all parcelled out 
 into building lots. It was said that it was 
 about to be pulled down, and that smaller 
 villas were to be erected upon its site. And 
 so, I suppose, that the dancing cupids are 
 gone too, by this time, — fallen for ever from 
 their high estate in the blue empyrean, and 
 will never be able to look down from it at 
 any honeymooning couples again !
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 It was a great relief to me when the Prince, 
 having made acquaintance, one morning 
 with my father in the garden, was enabled 
 to visit us openly, and accompany us upon 
 our walks and drives. 
 
 Seeing that he was a personage of dis- 
 tinction, speaking English, too, with a 
 fluency suggestive of English sympathies 
 and associations, and seeing, too, that we 
 were the only English family of any con- 
 sideration at that time sojourning at the 
 hotel, it must have appeared quite natural 
 to the j)roprietors that he should prefer our
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 239 
 
 society to that of the other visitors, and the 
 rapid growth of our friendship seemed to 
 be regarded with benevolent approbation 
 by both landlord and landlady, who per- 
 ceived that, by reason of it, the Prince would 
 be likely to prolong his stay at their estab- 
 lishment. 
 
 I had inquired of my husband, upon the 
 first opportunity, the reason of Zoubiroff's 
 sudden dismissal. He replied that he had 
 never dismissed him at all, but that the 
 valet had, as it were, been spirited away in 
 the most mysterious manner imaginable. 
 
 Whilst Hugo was in Paris, it appeared, 
 Zoubiroff had gone out as usual to do a few 
 commissions for his master. Prom this 
 expedition, however, he had never returned, 
 nor had he been seen or heard of since that 
 day, Hugo knew that Zoubiroff owned a 
 lodging-house in Paris where he had estab- 
 lished his wife, a woman who had once
 
 240 THE STOHY OF 
 
 lived with the Prince's sister as lady's-maid. 
 To this place he sent at once to make 
 inquiries, hut all that Madame ZouhirofF 
 could tell him, was, that upon the previous 
 day her hushand had never made his ap- 
 pearance, and that soon after the time at 
 which he usually visited her, some strange 
 men, helonqing, she helieved, to the secret 
 police, had presented themselves at the apart- 
 ments and had searched carefully amongst 
 his effects, taking with them, when they 
 departed, not only all the private papers 
 they could find, hut also several articles of 
 wearing. apparel, which he had left in her 
 charge when he had passed through Paris 
 at different times. 
 
 The Prince could only explaiji this 
 strange circumstance hy supposing that his 
 valet, like so many of his countrymen, had 
 associated himself with some secret society 
 dangerous to the Prench or Russian Govern-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 241 
 
 ment, or else that the case was one of mis- 
 taken identity. 
 
 Had Hugo been remaining on in Paris 
 he said that he should certainly have insti- 
 tuted further inquiries. As it was, how- 
 ever, he was so impatient to keep his ap- 
 pointment with me, at Nice, that he could 
 not bring himself to delay his departure, 
 and he had thought it wiser, for the strict 
 maintenance of our secret, not to furnish 
 Madame Zoubiroff with his present address. 
 He had accepted, therefore, the services of 
 an intelligent young man, one of the em- 
 ployes of the hotel at which he was stay- 
 ing, who had begged him to take him as his 
 valet upon trial. Later on, he hoped to be 
 able to obtain tidings of his missing ser- 
 vant. I inquired of my husband, also, 
 whether his negociations with Mr. Marks 
 had ended satisfactorily ? He replied that 
 Mr. Marks had just established himself at 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE STORY OF 
 
 the home of the Crccszoleskis ; that he 
 appeared to be pleased with everything ; 
 and had been most obliging and considerate 
 upon every subject. 
 
 At Delphine's suggestion, Hugo had paid 
 a hurried visit to the chdteau, having heard 
 tliat Mrs. Marks was in a delicate state of 
 health, and being anxious to put in hand a 
 few improvements which would be condu- 
 cive to her comfort. Mr. Marks had since 
 decided, liowever, not to take his wife to 
 Poland at this inclement season. Curiously- 
 enough, the Prince said, she was now stay- 
 ing at Nice; but as she was to join her 
 husband in the spring, he did not regret 
 that he had been enabled to set the place in 
 better order. 
 
 All this he had heard through his sister. 
 He, himself, had never had any personal 
 interview wdth either Mr. Marks or his 
 wife; so that, although this lady was now
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 243 
 
 SO near a neighbour, there would be no fear 
 of her knowing liim by sight, or comment- 
 ing upon any circumstance which might 
 lead to the discovery of our secret. Eesides 
 which, the Yilla St. Hippolyte was, fortu- 
 nately, quite out of the way of the town. . . 
 
 I know not in what words I can convey 
 to the reader any notion of the extreme 
 beauty of this same St. Hippolyte and its 
 surroundings^ without seeming to be over- 
 enthusiasiic. The climate of Nice, close 
 to the shores of ^' the changeful Medi- 
 terranean," is frequently treacherous jtnd 
 harsh, and in spite of a burning sun 
 the east wind, bringing with it clouds of 
 blinding dust, seems to be lying in ambush 
 at the corner of almost every street and 
 by-way, ready to fly in the face of its 
 victim. 
 
 But away from the sea-shore, up in the 
 
 lovely country which is but little known to^ 
 
 R 2
 
 24 i THE STORY OF 
 
 the tourist, the air is as soft and balmy as 
 that of the Isles of Greece. Beneath the 
 sJiade of the grey olive-trees, which, gnarled 
 and twisted, hear often the burden of several 
 centuries, the fertile soil is teeming with 
 luxuriant vegetation. One by one, as the 
 early spring days wear on, new and varied 
 blossoms open their eyes to the sunlight. 
 The purple anemone first, as harbinger of 
 the brighter scarlet variety, which, rare at 
 the beginning, and eagerly seized upon as a 
 prize, warms the terraced hill-slope with 
 ruddy patches as the days go by. The nar- 
 cissus is the next to awaken from the sleep 
 of an indulgent winter; then the great 
 purple and yellow flags, or fleurs de lis, 
 amongst their fluted blades of pointed 
 foliage, and then the violets make their 
 appearance in countless numbers, filling the 
 soft air with their frasfrance. 
 
 As the weather grew warmer, Hugo and
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 245 
 
 I would often wander in these pleasant 
 flowery places. Little j)athways led through 
 the olive-grounds at the back of the old 
 palace, and up into the mountains beyond. 
 The ascent was so gradual — so masked by 
 twisted stems and branches, that it was 
 quite a surprise to us, at first, upon reach- 
 ing an open space, to look down the valley 
 and see how far we were above the smilinsc 
 town, the white houses of which we beheld 
 in what seemed quite the far distance, by 
 the shore of the bluest of blue seas. 
 
 Sometimes we came upon the primitive 
 dwelling-places of the peasant proprietors, 
 perched picturesquely in a sheltered spur of 
 the mountain, with wine-press and olive- 
 mill all complete, seeming — to my English 
 eyes, more like rough stables than human 
 habitations, and recalling to my mind the 
 little houses and towers that I remembered 
 to have seen depicted in some of tlie back-
 
 24i(j TUE STORY OF 
 
 grounds of the early Italian masters, whose 
 "works I had admired in the London galleries. 
 As we wandered thus, there came into 
 my mind, for the first time, a consciousness 
 and apj)rcciation of the old Pagan spirit, 
 associating man and his pigmy heart-beats 
 with the sublimcr pulsations of Nature — 
 which died so hard, if, indeed, it has ever 
 really died — before the teachings of more 
 modern creeds : — 
 
 " And old Silenus, shaking a green stick 
 Of lilies, and tlic wood-gods in a crew 
 
 Came, blithe, as in the olive copses thick 
 Cicad^e are, drunk with the noonday dew ; 
 
 And Driope and Faunus followed quick, 
 Teasing the god to sing them something new." 
 
 These were the classic shapes I was pre- 
 pared to see lurking amongst the shadows, 
 and I half -expected to espy the brown 
 goat-foot gods, crouched down amongst the 
 purple irises, and pouring forth the trickling 
 streamlets from their earthen jars.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 247 
 
 And all this time, the reader may inquire^ 
 did I experience any tenderer feeling for 
 my husband ? I know, now, that I was in 
 love with the place — inspired by the pas- 
 sionate and exultant vitality which seemed 
 to be throbbing and expanding around me, 
 and that I was conscious of the romance 
 and mystery of the situation in which I 
 found myself. I was grateful for, and 
 gladdened by, Hugo's admiring devotion — 
 his craving for my society ; for to some 
 women, even if they can mete out no very 
 generous measure in return, it is much J^so 
 much !) to minister to the happiness of 
 another, even supposing that this other 
 fails in satisfying entirely their own un- 
 conscious yearnings ! 
 
 To Hugo himself, however, apart from all 
 the charm of his accessories, I could never 
 make that absolute surrender which I have 
 learnt since to identify with the intenser
 
 248 THE STORY OF 
 
 and more passionate forms of human affec- 
 tion. Perhaps, had life ended for me at 
 about this time, I might never have known 
 how different is Love's reckless and un- 
 reasoning madness from the calm, compla- 
 cent, mood, in which I passed these early 
 married days, and there must be many 
 women who leave the world, hourly, in a 
 like blissful ignorance : — 
 
 " These questioned not ; silent enduring souls, 
 Who neither knew the best or worst of life ! " 
 
 During our walks, my husband spoke to 
 me often upon the subject of his religious 
 opinions. He was relieved to find, he said, 
 that I was not wedded to any particular 
 form of bigotry, as was so often the case 
 with Englishwomen, but that I seemed to 
 be open to conviction upon almost every 
 subject; — that Science had performed a 
 mighty work in liberating us from ener- 
 vating superstitions, but that it did not, of
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 249 
 
 necessity, follow tliat those who were the 
 most sceptical with regard to the established 
 creeds, were in consequence, less spiritually 
 minded. With respect to what had hither- 
 to been accepted as truth by the greater 
 part of the civilised world, there had lately 
 arisen, he said, a good deal of discussion ; 
 but few had, as yet, been able to elaborate 
 any convenient substitute for "the gods we 
 had out-grown.'' He w^as of opinion that, 
 amongst intellectual people, the prevailing 
 spirit was one of scepticism, mingled with a 
 desire to temporise and shirk all personal 
 responsibility ; so that they behaved, with 
 regard to all obsolete faiths and f etishisms, 
 very much as he remembered to have heard 
 that a certain economical personage be- 
 haved in respect to some of his clothes, 
 which, after his death, were found hoarded 
 up in dark cupboards, and labelled, "Too 
 old to wear, but too good to throw away."
 
 250 TUE STOllY OF 
 
 For himself, Ilugo said, there were hut 
 two questions which possessed any vital 
 importance : Was there a personal Deity — a 
 henevolent Father, who supervised and 
 arranged all our human affairs, who could 
 be moved by our prayers and interested in 
 CUV actions ? and, Was there an after-life, 
 wherein our sensations would sufficiently 
 correspond to those we had previously 
 experienced, in the flesh, to entitle us to be 
 considered in any respect as the same 
 individual who had once walked uj)on 
 earth? Whilst such questions as these 
 remained unanswered, he said that he 
 could only smile at the absurd " enfan- 
 tillages " of certain learned priests and 
 doctors of divinity, who could condescend 
 to waste both breath and ink in lengthy 
 discussions as to whether the forbidden 
 fruit of Scripture was an ap2)lo or a j^car; 
 whether the officiating clergyman should
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 251 
 
 crawl towards tlie altar like a lizard, or 
 approach it after a more convenient fashion; 
 or whether he should lift or lower the 
 extreme tip of his elhow during the celebra- 
 tion of the Holy Communion ! 
 
 My husband next spoke to me upon 
 the subject of mesmerism, hypnotism, and 
 clairvoyance, &c. He mentioned, besides, 
 several other " hard names " v^hich I did 
 not remember ever to have heard before. 
 He almost feared, he said, to converse with 
 me upon these matters until my mind had 
 been enlightened by a little preparatory 
 reading, lest I should look upon him as 
 the victim of a monomania. With the 
 view of educating me, however, he had 
 brought with him several books, treating 
 upon these, and other, analogous subjects, 
 which he would give me upon the very 
 earliest opportunity ; and, on the evening 
 following upon this conversation, as he was
 
 252 THE STORY OF 
 
 about to leave me for the niglit, he asked 
 me to come with him in order that he might 
 give me the books in question. I followed 
 him to his room, and looked, with mingled 
 feelings of shyness and curiosity, at all the 
 "unfamiliar manly things that I beheld for 
 the first time. He searched in a portman- 
 teau for the books, and, having found them, 
 handed them to me, and begged that I 
 would read them with attention. I saw 
 that two of the books were in German — 
 a language of which I possessed, at this 
 time, only a rudimentary knowledge. I 
 told Hugo this, but he said that I might 
 be able to understand them with the help 
 of a dictionary ; if not, he would endeavour 
 to obtain for me an English translation as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 The titles of the books were certainly 
 somewhat alarming ; they ran thus : — 
 
 '* A Journal of Cerebral Physiology and
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 253 
 
 Mesmerism," by T. Zoist (in thirteen vols.), 
 Yol. I. 
 
 " Subversion of Materialism," by Pre- 
 bendary J. Dennis. 
 
 ^•' On Porce and its Mental Correlates," 
 by Charles Bray. 
 
 ''Physiologie, Medecine, et M^taphysique 
 du Magnetism," par J. Charpignon. 
 
 '' La Clef des Grands Mysteres," par 
 Eliphas Levi. 
 
 ''Die Sympathetisch Magnetische Heil- 
 kunde." J. Scheible. 
 
 "Yon der alt en und neuen Magie IXrs- 
 prung, Idee, Umfang, und Geschichte." 
 Geors: Conrad Horst. 
 
 '' You must read each day a portion of one 
 of these books, my Helen," he said, " and 
 you will then learn to understand better the 
 dreams and ambitions of your husband." 
 
 Then he kissed me, and bade me good- 
 night, and I stole back, through the deserted 
 rooms, with my armful of occult literature.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 My mesmeric and spiritualistic reading, sup- 
 plemented by Hugo's explanations, enabled 
 me, ere long, to form some idea of what he 
 had spoken of as his dreams and ambitions. 
 Without allowing myself to be influenced 
 by what Mr. Collingwood had told me, to 
 the effect that both my husband and his- 
 sister were " a little mad," I certainly 
 found it difficult to follow the Prince in 
 some of his serial flights. His dreams 
 struck me as being altogether dreams — 
 fantastic and impracticable ; his ambitions 
 imDOssiblc of attainment, and therefore
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 255 
 
 profitless. I perceived that lie was a mystic 
 — that he listened to voices (as my god- 
 father had said) which nobody else could 
 hear ; but his character seemed to be so 
 generous and tractable, his mind so just 
 and unprejudiced, and his heart so entirely 
 my own, that I had no wish to quarrel 
 with him for holding opinions which, as 
 yet, I was unable either to share or to 
 comprehend. 
 
 Those that I could grasp with less diffi- 
 culty, had reference to the social intercourse 
 of daily life, and to the salutary or baneful 
 effects which may be produced, upon highly 
 sensitive organisations, by their human sur- 
 roundinsjs. 
 
 Some of these ideas, I believe, are shared 
 by a religious community styling them- 
 selves " the Brotherhood of the New Life," 
 although I never heard that my husband 
 had had any connection with them. I pos-
 
 25G THE STORY OF 
 
 sessed myself, the result of certain physical 
 experiences, some notions of the same kind, 
 but it had never occurred to me to formu- 
 late them, as I should scarcely have known 
 how to distinguish my real impressions from 
 those that were purely imaginary. 
 
 Hugo, however, being, as he informed 
 me, constitutionally sensitive to mesmeric 
 influences, had had the consideration of this 
 subject forced upon him, having been, he 
 said, actually paralysed, at times, in what he 
 termed his '' volitional power " by a nature 
 stronger, in several respects, than his own, 
 with which it had been his fate to be 
 perpetually brought in contact. He had 
 endeavoured, as soon as he fully realised 
 the extent of this domination, to escape from 
 it by various means. Eut, in spite of the 
 power which he could obtain over some 
 gentler natures, he was, in this case, utterly 
 helpless, and had finally come to regard this
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 257 
 
 particular person as his absolute con- 
 troller. 
 
 It bad occurred to bim, however, that, 
 could be only fortify and vitalise himself by 
 a threefold union of mind, body, and soul, 
 with a being strong enough to renew the 
 forces capable of being thus absorbed and 
 withdrawn, he might be enabled, perhaps, 
 successfully to counteract this previous 
 subjection of spirit, and return to his 
 normal condition. He alluded to this 
 second influence as a sort of " cross- 
 mesmerisation," productive sometimes, he 
 informed me, of ** a state of absolute mental 
 chaos," and dangerous, for this reason, in 
 cases where the limits of the rapport about 
 to be established had not been carefully 
 defined and considered. 
 
 There were, however, he said, so many 
 
 difficulties in his path, that, at the time of 
 
 our meeting, he had almost abandoned the 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 THE STORY OF 
 
 idea as impossible of realisation. Women 
 who would surrender to another all that 
 it was in their power to give, nobody 
 would have despaired of finding. But 
 when a weak and irresponsible being 
 pours forth her whole soul, or delivers 
 her feeble individuality into the keeping 
 of the man she professes to love, it is 
 merely as if one were to deluge a wine 
 cask with white rain-water. She gives 
 him, not of her strength but of her 
 weakness. He becomes merely the reci- 
 pient of what she has found worthless and 
 ineffectual in herself. But then, — Hugo 
 continued, — he had already experienced the 
 disadvantages attendant upon an asso- 
 ciation with an imperious and uncom- 
 promising will ! Where would it be possible 
 for him to discover the being who should 
 possess, in a proper proportion, the qualities 
 to be desired, and who would exercise her
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 259 
 
 dominion discreetly, wisely — above all, 
 mercifully ? 
 
 '^ Nowhere I " was the sad answer that 
 seemed always to come to him whenever 
 he asked himself this question ; and so, as 
 he informed me upon the occasion of his 
 first visit to Northover, neither marriage 
 nor affection had entered into the pro- 
 gramme of his existence, and all women 
 had seemed to him to be *' like dolls," until 
 he had found himself seated by my side in 
 the tea-room at Ingleby Grange. He per^ 
 ceived in me then, he said — or he had 
 imagined that he had perceived — a certain 
 mixture of wisdom and ignorance, of help- 
 lessness and self-reliance, which had im- 
 pressed him as he had never been impressed 
 by anything of the kind before. He saw 
 that I was possessed of ^' one of those 
 exceptional feminine natures" that are 
 
 capable of standing alone intellectually — 
 
 s2
 
 260 THE STORY OF 
 
 that I could form an independent judg- 
 ment, trust to the penetration of my own 
 mind, and that I should have no need to 
 fasten upon other intellects and derive my 
 sustenance from them like a vampire. I 
 should take from another only what I 
 required to complete my own nature, and 
 affection was all that I unconsciously put 
 forth my will to obtain. 
 
 There was a legend in his family, he said, 
 to the effect that the dominion over the 
 minds of others, which was peculiar to his 
 race, would cease to exist in the individual 
 who should experience the passion of love 
 in its utmost intensity. " When thou shalt 
 give over thy heart, thy mind, and thy soul, 
 into the keeping of one that thou lovest 
 utterly with thy threefold nature, then shall 
 thine enemies obtain the dominion over 
 thee." So ran the legend. 
 
 He assured me, however, that he had
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 261 
 
 never felt any such love as this for the 
 " doll '' women he had previously fallen in 
 with, and he had fancied that it would be 
 impossible for him ever to experience it in 
 the future, until he had met with the one 
 being whom he believed to be capable of 
 '' completing and regenerating" his whole 
 nature. 
 
 He told me that, previous to our mar- 
 riage, he had endeavoured to test the power 
 of my intellect and my " volition," and that 
 he had found himself capable, in most 
 instances, of maintaining that ascendancy 
 which ought always to be the portion of 
 the husband. It was with this object that 
 he had exerted his magnetic influence at 
 the ball, and had '* willed," afterwards, that 
 I should meet him in the old summer- 
 house at a particular hour. I told him that 
 I had decided to go there of my own accord, 
 urged by a combination of circumstances
 
 262 THE STORY OF 
 
 with wliicli his '' volition " could have had 
 no connection whatever : and that, even the 
 inclination, thus awakened, had abandoned 
 me long before the hour of the proposed 
 meeting. He replied that this might pos- 
 sibly be explained by the fact that, as soon 
 as he became certain of proceeding to 
 London, he had felt that it would be useless 
 to put forward any further effort of will. 
 
 But his object, he said, was not, now, to 
 prove that he was the stronger of us two. 
 He desired, on the contrary, to make me an 
 admission which he would hesitate to make 
 to any other woman living. He then con- 
 fessed to me — speaking with some emotion 
 — that he found himself completely at my 
 mercy. All his boasted philosophy, lie 
 said, had failed him for the first time. He 
 loved me utterly and entirely, with all the 
 love of which his being was ca2)able. His 
 will, his '* magnetism," had all departed
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 263 
 
 from him ; he had surrendered his existence 
 into my hands ! 
 
 Seeing that he appeared to be really 
 alarmed as to the consequences which might 
 ensue upon this departure from his original 
 plan, I said all that I could to reassure him. 
 He told me that the family tradition, about 
 falling into the power of his enemies, was 
 not what disturbed him. He regarded this 
 merely as a salutary warning, directed, in 
 the abstract, against the allurements of the 
 Delilahs of life — syrens with whom the 
 warrior might dally whilst his sword was 
 rusting in its scabbard, his charger stamp- 
 ing in its stall, and whilst the foemen were 
 even at the city gate. His apprehensions 
 arose from a sense of his present inability 
 to counteract, and withstand, the power to 
 which he had previously alluded, should he 
 find himself, as might happen at any 
 moment, once more within reach of its
 
 264 THE STORY OF 
 
 influence. I asked him if this power was 
 wielded by a person who was his enemy ? 
 He replied, No ; that the influence was not 
 intentionally malignant, and that it had, 
 on some occasions, been exerted for his 
 benefit, but that it had always had the 
 effect of paralysing his will, and of render- 
 ing him helpless as an infant. All he had 
 desired was, to be enabled to encounter 
 the person who exercised it upon a footing 
 of equality ; to be no longer a puppet in 
 the hands of another. But now, his 
 strength was gone ; he had no weapon 
 wherewith to defend himself ! . . . 
 
 I told him, in spite of my being unable, 
 wholly, to comprehend his fears, that if, 
 indeed, his will had been surrendered into 
 my hands, it should be my mission to meet, 
 and combat, the paralysing influence to 
 which he had referred. He said that, if I 
 could only do this, all would be well ; he
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 265 
 
 should then cast from him, for ever, the 
 mortifying memories of the past, and resign 
 himself to his present happiness, which was 
 greater than anything he could have before 
 imagined. 
 
 I was rejoiced to think that it was in my 
 power to minister thus to my husband's 
 happiness. Ever since I had arrived at 
 woman's years, I had been possessed of an 
 intense craving to protect, to soothe, to 
 comfort, some being whose life could be 
 made brighter by my sympathy and friend- 
 ship. That Hugo should cling to me tkus 
 seemed to count, in my eyes, as one of the 
 greatest of his merits. 
 
 He asked me, frequently, whether I was 
 certain that I cared for him, and told me 
 that, if so, I could not remind him too often 
 of my affection, since, in this respect, he 
 ^' was like a woman," — deriving strength and 
 encouragement from spoken assurances, and
 
 2G6 THE STORY OF 
 
 never wholly free from apprehension that 
 the discovery of some of his numerous 
 defects might make a difference in my 
 heart. 
 
 I told him, what was then no more than 
 the truth, that T perceived in him none of 
 the defects to which he alluded; that I 
 cared for him more than I had ever cared 
 for anybody else ; that I was proud of, and 
 grateful for, his affection, and that I looked 
 forward to the day when we should be able 
 to avow our marriage. 
 
 He seemed, however, to be always a little 
 mistrustful, even after my repeated assur- 
 ances, telling me that, "for a woman who 
 was really in love," I " kept my head " 
 as he had never known a woman keep it 
 before in like case. I have since thous^ht 
 that, perhaps, he could read my heart better 
 than I then knew how to read it myself ! 
 
 Once the Prince inquired of me, very
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 267 
 
 earnestly, what discovery would be the most 
 likely to estrange a woman's affection from 
 the man she had previously loved ? what 
 defects in his character would be certain to 
 render him for ever hateful in her eyes ? 
 
 I considered for some time before reply- 
 ing, and then said that I thought the 
 discovery of meanness, cowardice, or un- 
 truthfulness — the defects, in fact, of a bad 
 woman — was what would render a man 
 contemptible in my eyes, and that I fancied 
 it would be impossible to love a man one 
 utterly despised, although one might for- 
 give those faults which resulted from mis- 
 directed impulse, however serious their 
 consequences. 
 
 We were driving together, when the 
 Prince asked me this question, along the 
 lovely road which lies between Nice and 
 Villafranca. We had started upon our way 
 accompanied by Miss Warden, to save ap-
 
 268 THE STOKY OF 
 
 pcaranccs, but had deposited her on the 
 Promenade des Anglais^ intending to pick 
 her up on our homeward way, three not 
 being, as she had herself remarked, a very 
 comenient number for private conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 I noticed that Hugo seemed strangely 
 anxious that I should explain more fully 
 the significance of my words. 
 
 He took my hand in his, looked earnestly 
 in my face, and asked me whether, by 
 " meanness/* I intended to refer to a want 
 of generosity with regard to money, and 
 whether, by '' cowardice," and '' untruth- 
 fulness," I meant that kind of moral 
 timidity which might spring from an ex- 
 cusable desire to spare another person the 
 pain of some unpleasant avowal, or a want 
 of pliysical courage to face and combat 
 assailing dangers ? 
 
 I rc^plied that I was not thinking of
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 269 
 
 meanness merely in connection with money, 
 since a person might have some generous 
 motive for the practice of economy ; but 
 that by '^ meanness, cowardice, and un- 
 truthfulness," I meant rather the traducing 
 of a friend behind his back, the striking of 
 a man when he w^as down, and the conscious 
 misrepresentation of facts from interested 
 and selfish motives. 
 
 The Prince became somewhat pensive and 
 silent after this, but I did not think that 
 my answer could have either pained or 
 annoyed him, for he continued to hold my 
 hand in his until the end of our tdte-a-tMe, 
 saying that he derived " courage, consola- 
 tion, and hope " from the contact. 
 
 I drew off my glove, being proud of my 
 beautiful cat's-eye ring, and, thinking to 
 make him smile, clenched my fist with 
 mock ferocity, and told him that whilst I 
 w^as by his side to defend him, and to
 
 270 HELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 combat the sinister influence to wliicli he 
 had just alluded, he need be in no fear of 
 falling into the power of liis enemies. But 
 he only looked graver than before, and I 
 perceived that he regarded this subject as 
 one that was much too serious to jest 
 about.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On the evening following upon this drive, 
 as I was sitting with my husband in the 
 drawing-room, the door leading into the 
 passage quietly opened and Mason emerged 
 unexpectedly from behind the folds of the 
 portiere. 
 
 It happened that Hugo had come to me, 
 upon this occasion, by way of the balcony, 
 which extended from his room to ours, and 
 so in at the window, in order to avoid all 
 noise, and 1 suppose it was the making of 
 this slight change in his programme which 
 had caused him to forget to secure the 
 door.
 
 272 THE STORY OF 
 
 Upon beholding Prince Crecszoleski 
 seated familiarly by my side upon the sofa, 
 arraved in his sable-trimmed tosja — obvi- 
 ously the costume of the bed-chamber — 
 the poor woman was naturally transfixed 
 with horror and amazement. She stood 
 for some seconds contemplating us in 
 silence, and then, after murmuring '' Oh, 
 Miss ndcn ! " in a voice full of reproach 
 and consternation, she burst into a flood of 
 tears. 
 
 We both rose simultaneously to our feet. 
 To my intense relief, Hugo at once told her 
 the truth. ^' We have been married since 
 the month of October, Mrs. Mason," he 
 said, " so there is no occasion for uneasi- 
 ness. But for your master's precarious 
 condition, and the doctor's recommendation 
 to avoid all that might agitate him, we 
 should have made our confession before 
 now. I must hope that you will feel dis-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 273 
 
 posed to be as good a friend to me, in the 
 future, as you have proved to my wife in the 
 past." 
 
 The news seemed to surprise her greatly. 
 She had been generally in such close attend- 
 ance upon Sir Harry that she had had no 
 opportunity of observing our growing inti- 
 macy, and her ignorance of Prencli had 
 prevented her from understanding any of 
 the gossiping remarks which it might have 
 occasioned in the hotel. Her unexpected 
 appearance, therefore, had not been due to 
 any suspicion upon her part. She had 
 merely come to borrow some wood, and fir- 
 cones, for Sir Harry's fire, as he was feeling 
 a little chilly. Hugo begged her, for the 
 present, to treat his communication as con- 
 fidential. 
 
 As soon as we were once more alone, I 
 asked my husband whether he really meant 
 soon to declare our marriage ? He replied 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 27ii TUE STORY OF 
 
 that in tliis, as in all things, he would be 
 guided entirely by me. I was pleased and 
 flattered at this patient subservience to my 
 will, which I had observed, of late, often 
 followed upon some desire of mine to which 
 I had not even given audible expression. 
 
 Perhaps, I have since thought, having 
 learnt liow rare it is for a man to assume, 
 after marriage, the submissive manner of a 
 lover, I may not have seemed sufficiently 
 grateful for this voluntary departure from 
 the generally approved male tactics. As 
 yet, however, I was not experienced enough 
 to know that his behaviour was at all ex- 
 ceptional. Woman in the arrogance of her 
 youth and beauty, and man in the con- 
 sciousness of his strength, are apt to be 
 somewhat exacting, and to accept, as a 
 matter of course, those good gifts which 
 appear to them, in after years, in the light 
 of generous concessions. In these days, how-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 275 
 
 ever, I was neither in a position to analyse 
 nor to make comparisons. I have made them 
 since, with the result of summoning tears 
 to my eyes, and vain regrets to my heart ; 
 and in order that I may absolve my con- 
 science from this suspicion of seeming in- 
 gratitude, I have tried to believe that 
 Hugo's tender and obedient demeanour 
 may have been partly involuntary. That 
 he might, perhaps, have endeavoured to 
 dominate and dictate, like any other hus- 
 band, but that being, as he termed it, '^ a 
 sensitive " and influenced by me in his 
 " volitional power," he recognised his own 
 inability to combat and oppose my wishes. 
 In a word, that his docility may have been 
 as much a result of mesmerism as of affec- 
 tion. But I am as ignorant, now, upon this 
 subject, as I was then. 
 
 Before parting for the night, Ave had 
 
 agreed that, upon the morrow. Sir Ilarry 
 
 t2
 
 276 - THE STORY OF 
 
 should be informed of our marriage. It 
 had been previously arranged that on this 
 day we were to make an expedition to 
 Monaeo, or Monte Carlo, as it is more 
 generally called. We now settled that, after 
 driving there in the morning, breakfasting 
 at the Hotel de Paris, and looking on for 
 a little while at the gambling. Miss Warden 
 and I should stroll about in the grounds, 
 leaving my father and Hugo seated together 
 upon the terrace, and that there the Prince 
 should gradually break the news of the im- 
 portant step we had taken. 
 
 As I desired, in spite of the displeasure 
 which I felt certain that I should incur, to 
 inform my godfather of it also, and as the 
 Prince had, as yet, confided in no member 
 of his own household except in Zoubiroff, 
 the cause of whose sudden disappearance 
 remained still a mystery, I asked him 
 whether he would not like, before communi-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 277 
 
 eating our secret to Sir Harry, to confide in 
 his sister Delphine, in order that she might 
 not feel wounded at his reticence towards her 
 once our marriage became publicly known ? 
 
 A cloud passed over his brow at the men- 
 tion of this name. I had noticed before 
 that, in spite of his professed affection for 
 her, allusions to his sister seemed to awaken 
 memories which were not altogether agree- 
 able, and, for this reason, I had generally 
 changed the conversation before I had 
 obtained much definite information respect- 
 ing a person to whom I had become so 
 nearly related. 
 
 I now inquired of Hugo who his sister 
 had married; whether she had any children; 
 and whether he thought that she would 
 approve of our union, and that we should 
 all be good friends? He replied — his face 
 still wearing an unaccountable expression 
 of pain— that his sister had married when
 
 278 TUE STORY OF 
 
 very young, a man old enough to have been 
 her father, one General Dobrowolski, with 
 whom, however, he believed that she had 
 lived happily until his death, which occurred 
 only a few years after the marriage. She 
 had then remained a widow for a while, 
 residing chiefly in Paris and Vienna, and 
 occasionally at her old home. Eventually, 
 however, she had re-married. This time 
 her marriage was not so happy. Her hus- 
 band, although both wealthy and learned, 
 was beneath her in position. The marriage 
 had not been pleasing to her family. Neither 
 by this union, nor by the former one, had 
 she had any children, and she was now, for 
 the second time, a widow. 
 
 I remarked to my husband that, as his 
 sister's second marriage had been displeasing 
 to him, she would hardly be in a position to 
 criticise, or complain of, his own, and that I 
 thought no time ought to be lost before
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 279 
 
 writing to inform her of it. To this he 
 replied that some women were strange, un- 
 reasonable, over-sensitive beings, and that it 
 was impossible for him to predict how even 
 his own sister misrht behave in a case like 
 the present. He did not imagine for a 
 moment that she would see any cause for 
 objection, but she was deeply attached to 
 him, and had always shown herself to be, to 
 a certain extent, jealous of his affection. 
 Also, she was in the position of his heir, 
 and had been accustomed to take an active 
 part in the management of his estates. .On 
 the whole, therefore, Hugo said that he 
 would prefer to wait until he could make 
 sure of a personal interview with her. She 
 visited Paris almost every year at Easter. 
 On our way back to England he would 
 make an appointment with her there, and 
 would then tell her of [the change he had 
 made in his existence, instead of writing.
 
 2S0 THE STORY OF 
 
 " But this is no reason, why you should 
 not confide in our good friend, George," he 
 added, in response, as it seemed, to my 
 earnest inward desire ; *' for as my good 
 friend I shall continue to count him, 
 although he believes me to be little better 
 than a harmless maniac! But for his hospi- 
 tality I should never, perhaps, have met 
 with my beloved Helen. George Colling- 
 wood has earned my eternal gratitude ! " 
 
 Hugo then spoke to me, almost for the 
 first time, of his parents. His mother, he 
 said, was a wife after the pattern of St. 
 Elizabeth of Hungary, '* imbued with all 
 the Manichean asceticism of the saints of 
 the Middle Ages," and who had come under 
 the influence of a priest as arbitrary and 
 bigoted as Conrad of Marpurg. In her 
 desire to attain to the ideal of apostolic 
 holiness, she separated herself from her 
 husband, in spite of her deep affection for
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 281 
 
 him, having persuaded herself that those 
 family ties to which we all of us owe our 
 existence, were merely degrading snares of 
 the Evil One, which it was our duty to resist 
 and forego. She sought, therefore, the 
 sanctuary of a convent shortly after the 
 birth of her daughter, where, in spite of 
 the repeated entreaties of her husband, she 
 lived for over eight years in pious retreat. 
 At the end of this time, how, and wherefore, 
 it was impossible to explain after all the 
 years that had elapsed, she was induced 
 once more to resume her married life, and 
 the Prince her husband was rejoiced, some 
 two years afterwards, by the birth of a 
 son, for which event he had most ardently 
 longed. His satisfaction, however, was but 
 of short duration. This son cost his mother 
 her life, and his father soon afterwards 
 followed her to the grave. 
 
 " I am the child, therefore," said Hugo,
 
 282 THE STORY OF 
 
 in conclusion J *' of my fatlicr's passionato 
 desire — of my mother's reluctant surrender. 
 The poor woman would have wished me to 
 have been born entirely of the Spirits and 
 there have been moments in my life when 
 I have felt that there was in my nature an 
 intense sympathy with the inhabitants of an 
 unseen world. Then, my father's practical, 
 material, nature, is triumphant. I descend 
 from the cold regions of the clouds and 
 resign myself with enthusiastic eagerness 
 to the allurements of earth. My sister, 
 the first child of this incongruous union, 
 is possessed of a more masculine nature. 
 Like her father, she is resolute, self-reliant, 
 fearless, and strongly imbued with the 
 materialistic spirit; and yet she, too, has 
 lier inspired moments — her admonitions 
 from the invisible world ! It is curious 
 to observe how we are all made up of 
 contradictions ; surely we can scarcely de-
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 283 
 
 signate a person as ' an individual ' wlien 
 so many opposing individualities are making 
 war in his blood ! As Eugene Sue has said, 
 * To comprehend everything is to forgive 
 all ! ' " 
 
 I now thought that I had probably 
 penetrated the mystery which had seemed 
 to me, hitherto, to envelope the existence 
 of Hugo's sister, and that I could account 
 satisfactorily for the cloud which was wont 
 to appear upon his brow at the mention of 
 lier name. She was an eccentric, self-willed 
 woman, at whose hands he had probably 
 suffered many things, "strongly imbued 
 with the materialistic spirit," and she had 
 made an undesirable second marriage which 
 had displeased her family. 
 
 Was she the person who had dominated 
 him ? I wondered ; who represented the 
 influence " stronger in several respects " 
 than his own with which he had told me
 
 28 i UELEN DAVENANT. 
 
 that it had been his fate to '' be perpetually 
 brought in contact " ; which had had the 
 effect of paralysing his *' volitional power," 
 and which it was my appointed mission to 
 mitigate and counteract ? Some day, no 
 doubt, all would be made plain to me, and, 
 in the meant hue, I did not think that it 
 would be generous on my part to cross- 
 question my husband upon what was evi- 
 dently an unpleasant subject. 
 
 I wrote to my godfather by the early post 
 upon the following day, and experienced a 
 sense of relief when I knew that my letter 
 had actually started upon its way. I felt, 
 however, that I must not indulge in un- 
 alloved satisfaction until I knew in what 
 spirit Sir Harry would receive the intelli- 
 gence which was to be communicated to 
 him later on in the day, and I could not 
 help looking forward to our expedition to 
 Monte Carlo with a good deal of anxiety.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 I HAVE often wondered whether there is 
 really anything in what is called " a pre- 
 sentiment of evil " or not ? Many others 
 have, doubtless, wondered likewise ; or have 
 endeavoured to connect the gloomy fore- 
 bodings which have, at times, oppressed 
 them, with some definite calamity which 
 may afterwards have come to pass. 
 
 Por my own part, I am inclined to think 
 that misfortunes are apt to come upon us 
 unexpectedly, " shod with silence," and 
 numbing us with the shock of a surprise; 
 and I even hold a kind of superstitious
 
 286 TUE STORY OF 
 
 belief that, to anticipate an evil, goes some 
 way towards preventing it. 
 
 Be this as it may, beyond a natural anxiety 
 as to the result of Hugo's communication to 
 my father, I do not remember experiencing 
 any marked sense of dread or uneasiness 
 upon the morning of this particular day. I 
 had risen betimes, and, after ^yriting my 
 letter to Mr. Collingwood, I wandered forth 
 into the old Italian garden, before Miss 
 "Warden had made her appearance. 
 
 This garden — which I have never beheld 
 since these days of my early married life, 
 and whicli it is unlikely that I shall ever 
 behold again — if it be true that it is now 
 portioned out into building lots— was a deli- 
 cious dream of luxuriant southern beauty. 
 It was disposed in shady terraces, orna- 
 mented with roughly sculptured mediaeval 
 seats and figures, whence the town of Nice, 
 with the blue Mediterranean beyond, could
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 287 
 
 1)6 seen outspread in glittering panorama. 
 At the back of the old palace, the higher 
 peaks of the snow mountains were sparkling 
 in the morning sun ; whilst to right and left, 
 rose the grey, olive-clad hills, amongst which 
 Hugo and I had so often wandered. 
 
 The intense beauty of this scene, com- 
 bined, as it was, with a perfect climate, 
 inspired me with a physical joy in living 
 which was altogether new to me. My soul 
 became flooded with tender emotion, and, 
 turning towards the house, I gazed up at 
 Hugo's windows, wishing that he would 
 come out and join me in the garden. As I 
 was looking thus, with this wish for him in 
 my heart, he threw back the green shutters 
 and stepped out upon the balcony. 
 
 I suppose that I possess one of those 
 natures that can love best what I know to 
 be really my own ; what I can take without 
 let or hindrance, or self-reproach, to my
 
 288 TUB STORY OF 
 
 heart ; the reverse, in fact, of what I have 
 "heard tell" of the male disposition. In 
 spite of my liking for the romantic and ex- 
 ceptional aspects of existence, I was heartily 
 tired, now, of prevarications and conceal- 
 ments. I had gone through all the excite- 
 ment which usually accompanies an intrigue, 
 and was familiar with most of the subter- 
 fuges consequent upon a clandestine mar- 
 riage ; hut I realised, at this moment, that I 
 should probably feel a warmer and deeper 
 affection for my lover once I could openly 
 acknowledge him as my husband, and that I 
 did not take any additional pleasure in his 
 society because he had occasionally come to 
 me through the window instead of the door. 
 Was it the crisp inspiring air of the morn- 
 ing, the perfume of violets and orange- 
 blossom, the glimpses of far mountain and 
 blue ocean ? I know not. Although such 
 combinations may tend, at times, to lend an
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 289 
 
 unsuspected bias to our mood. I know, 
 however, as I look back to this day, that I 
 had never come so near to loving Hugo 
 Crecszoleski as upon this particular morn- 
 ing. He perceived me immediately, made a 
 sign that he did so, and in a few minutes he 
 was standing beside me upon the terrace. 
 It was a moment that I shall remember as 
 long as I live, however much. I may desire 
 to forget it. 
 
 He took my hand, and I felt, at once, 
 that he both understood and shared my 
 emotion. Who can tell, had events been 
 ordered differently, of what new and undis- 
 turbed contentment this sense of mutual 
 sympathy might not have made the be- 
 ginning? Something, — a shadow a suspi- 
 cion, an unaccountable feeling of painful 
 anticipation and restraint, had seemed, until 
 now, to stand between my husband and 
 
 myself. I hoped that this was about to 
 VOL. I, tl
 
 290 THE STORY OF 
 
 lift and disperse, like the mists of the 
 morning. It had been occasioned, I fan- 
 cied, by the exceptional position in which 
 I had found myself placed, and by ail the 
 mystery and insincerity resulting there- 
 from. A calmer, brighter existence was 
 about to unfold before me, and I was ex- 
 periencing, to-day, the first manifestations 
 of this new state. I know not, wholly, 
 whether I ought to rejoice, or to lament, 
 because my impression turned out to be a 
 w^rong one. Life is so strange, with its 
 surprises, its contrasts, its vague and un- 
 profitable regrets. Mine must have been 
 altogether different, of course, had I be- 
 come the sport of different circumstances. 
 My affections, my ambitions, my failings, 
 would have been all other than they are, 
 and my story, it may be, even less worthy 
 than now of note or record. 
 
 "We judge others," George Eliot says.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 291 
 
 '^ according to results. How else ? Not 
 knowing the process by which results are 
 arrived at." 
 
 Could we but comprehend this " process/' 
 and thus direct the course of these "results," 
 man would be lord of creation, indeed, and 
 stand in need of no higher guidance ! 
 
 As had been previously arranged, we 
 started upon our expedition at about ten 
 o'clock, and upon our arrival at Monte 
 Carlo, breakfasted at the Hotel de Paris. 
 The beauty of the place charmed and 
 fascinated me. I said to myself that when 
 our marriage had been declared and ac- 
 knowledged, I should ask Hugo to bring 
 me here again, from time to time, in order 
 that we might drink in warmth and sun- 
 shine whilst it was winter in our English 
 home. For that we should have a home 
 in England, some day, Hugo had seemed 
 
 quite confident, — ever since his negociations 
 
 V 2
 
 292 THE STORY OF 
 
 with Mr. Marks had taken such a satis- 
 factory turn. 
 
 My father's voice recalled me to the 
 present as I was musing thus. 
 
 " This is a first-rate place," he remarked, 
 addressing himself to Hugo, " for a fine 
 young bachelor like you, but an old fellow 
 like me feels rather like a fish out of water 
 amongst all these gay folks !" 
 
 " I hope not to remain a bachelor, 
 always," returned the Prince with a glance 
 towards the place where I was sitting ; 
 ** and I hope, too, when I am married, not 
 to be cut off, for that reason, from all 
 pleasant places, which should, in such 
 happy circumstances, seem to become only 
 the more enjoyable." 
 
 He spoke, as he usually did, in a some- 
 what stilted and elaborate manner. I felt, 
 however, that he meant what he said, and, 
 as I agreed cordially with the sentiments
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 293 
 
 expressed, I sent liini a kindly glance across 
 the little marble table at wbich we were 
 taking coffee after our luncheon. 
 
 *' Don't ever marry, Prince," Sir Harry 
 went on, with the manner of one who had 
 given the subject his most serious con- 
 sideration, '' women are all sly cats ; they've 
 no shame, no honour, no compassion ! The 
 gentler, the kinder, the more grateful and 
 humble they seem, the more ready are they 
 to betray you or stab you in the back ! If 
 I had been as good a hand with my pen as 
 I was, once, with my gun, I think I should 
 have set down all their badness in a book, 
 and then printed it, and shot myself after- 
 wards, perhaps ! But it's too late, now, to 
 talk of what one would have done once. 
 Only, you. Prince, take the advice of an old 
 man. Use them for your own pleasure as 
 long as they can amuse you, and then fling 
 them upon one side ; for, believe me,
 
 294i THE STORY OF 
 
 they're none of them worth keeping! And 
 above all, don't be fool enough to marry 
 one of them, and let her creep into your 
 heart ! Women are sly cats!" 
 
 My father's tones had grown in bitterness 
 as he went on. I was at a loss to imagine 
 what could so suddenly have aroused him 
 from his usual torpor to this pitch of angry 
 denunciation. At the same time, I was not 
 altogether sorry that Hugo should become 
 aware of the strange alternations of mood 
 to which Sir Harry was occasionally subject. 
 It was far better that, as my husband, he 
 should know precisely how I had been situ- 
 ated at home ; and it would make him care- 
 ful, too, in the future, to avoid saying or 
 doing anything which might call forth these 
 ebullitions of ill-humour. 
 
 Miss Warden, in a discreet " aside,'* whis- 
 pered to me that she attributed this unex- 
 pected outburst to the cup of black coffee
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 295 
 
 and the petit verve of ^^ fine cJiampagne^^ 
 of which Sir Harry had rashly partaken. 
 We had been repeatedly warned that stimu- 
 lants were bad for him ; but he had seemed 
 so much better of late, that, in a public place, 
 we had not liked to subject him to any 
 restrictions. 
 
 In order to turn the subject, Hugo now 
 proposed, with great tact, that we should go 
 and look on at the gambling. We asked 
 him if he intended to play himself? He 
 replied; Yes, for a wonder, just to see 
 whether he was in luck or not. I, too,- had 
 come prepared to risk at least a Napoleon 
 at the tables, with the same object. Miss 
 Warden, who confessed, now, that she had 
 always been conscious that a wild passion 
 for gambling had lain dormant in her 
 secret soul for years, was determined to 
 yield to it, — just this once, and to hazard a 
 five- franc piece. The proceeds of this first
 
 296 THE STORY OF 
 
 crime — for such she said she felt it to be — 
 (supposing there were any,) were to go to- 
 wards swelling the funds for the new 
 English church, which was just then in 
 course of erection within sight of where we 
 were sitting. 
 
 After settling our account with the waiter, 
 we were about to rise from our places, when 
 Hugo suddenly changed colour, and, turning 
 to me, said, in an agitated undertone — 
 
 '' No ! Helen ; I shall not tempt fortune 
 to-day — neither at the tables nor in any 
 other manner ! I should have no chance 
 this morning ; I am not in luck ; the Seven 
 Sleepers have turned !" 
 
 I had come to know the meaning of this 
 figurative speech. It had reference to the 
 Seven Sleepers of Ephesus, who, according 
 to ancient tradition, turned over upon 
 their sides whenever any calamity threat- 
 ened Christendom. Hugo— who, as I was
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 297 
 
 now aware, held many curious opinions — did 
 not consider the legend altogether in the 
 light of a myth. He had told me that he 
 regarded their sleep as a mesmeric trance, 
 and believed that they might have turned 
 occasionally in the course of it. When, 
 therefore, he said " the Seven Sleepers 
 have turned,'* he meant to convey that 
 he fancied he was menaced by some stroke 
 of bad luck. 
 
 Whilst my father — who remained sitting 
 at the little round table from which the rest 
 of our party had risen — stared vacantly^ at 
 the gaily-dressed figures that went flitting 
 to and fro in the sunshine, the Prince whis- 
 pered in my ear that he thouglit it would 
 be imprudent to broach the subject of our 
 marriage whilst Sir Harry was in such an 
 irritable mood. He would go into the SaVe 
 de Jeu, he said, and see if there were any 
 places at the tables, returning to fetch us if
 
 298 THE STORY OF 
 
 he found that the company was '^ not too 
 objectionable." He left us hereupon, and 
 went off in the dh^ection of the Casino. 
 
 I gdzed after him as he went ; and, as I 
 watched his tall, graceful, figure, passing out 
 into the full sunlight and crossing the broad 
 gravel walk, experienced something like 
 pride as I contrasted this distinguished- 
 looking man — my husband — with some of 
 the other visitors assembled upon the ter- 
 race. His appearance seemed to excite the 
 notice, and — as I fondly imagined— the 
 admiration of most of these. Several of the 
 prettily-dressed ladies looked back at him 
 from under their lace parasols, after he had 
 passed; and two men in particular, who 
 were loitering about the entrance to the 
 Casino, nudged one another as he went in 
 at the door, and exchanged a few remarks, 
 as I fancied, to the Prince's advantage. 
 All this pleased and gratified me. As I
 
 HELEN DAVBNANT. 299 
 
 have already admitted, I was, upon this 
 particular day, inT^an unusually susceptible 
 and emotional state ; but, whatsoever her 
 mood, it must always be gratifying, I should 
 think, to a woman wdien she recognizes the 
 physical attractions of the husband she has 
 chosen, and when she is conscious that other 
 people are aware of them also. Esteem and 
 respect, we are told, should rest upon a 
 more solid foundation; but, be this how it 
 may, I was glad to know upon this sunny 
 Eebruary morning that Hugo was, out- 
 wardly, so good to look upon ; and I think 
 if I was ever really fond of him that I w^as 
 fond of him then. 
 
 " Good-looking fellow^ ! " remarked Sir 
 Harry, rousing himself from his reverie, 
 and seeming also to be impressed with my 
 husband's comeliness; ''but if he's making 
 love to you, Nelly, we shall have to give 
 him the cold shoulder ! Your husband was
 
 300 THE STOllY OF 
 
 chosen for you very soon after you were 
 born.'' 
 
 " You mean Courtenay Davenant," I said ; 
 " but indeed, indeed papa, that can never 
 be ! Besides, Courtenay was against it him- 
 self. He objected to the marriage of first 
 cousins." 
 
 '' Young people are fools, miss ! " returned 
 Sir Harry, sharply. '^ I heard all he had to 
 say against it in London, and, after giving 
 him a few pages of family history, I brought 
 him. round to my way of thinking. It's 
 uncommonly lucky that he ended by taking 
 my view, as it's the only way of making 
 everything straight and comfortable for you 
 both!" 
 
 He did not pause for a reply, but turned 
 his back upon us abruptly; and, adjusting 
 some field-glasses which he had brought 
 Avith him, seemed to become absorbed in a 
 contemplation of the far sea-view.
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 301 
 
 I thought liow difibrently these words, 
 which he had just uttered, would have 
 affected me only a few months ago — before 
 T had taken the law into my own hands, and 
 arranged the plan of my existence accord- 
 ing to my own notions. How wounded I 
 should have felt at the idea that Courtenay 
 should have been talked over by my father 
 and " brought round " (much against his 
 will, no doubt, and entirely from motives of 
 self-interest) to his ''way of thinking." 
 This veering round again, upon my cousin's 
 part, to the original family scheme, accounted 
 (I thought) for his proposal to visit North- 
 over, and for the card which had been left 
 upon me on the very morning of my wed- 
 ding. 
 
 I had no wish to annoy my father by say- 
 ing anything more upon the subject. When 
 it would be safe for us to declare our mar- 
 riage, I did not know. I should be of age.
 
 302 THE STORY OF 
 
 however, in tlie following December, and 
 before that time, something might turn up 
 to make our path easier. Eor the moment, 
 I only experienced a sense of unalloyed 
 triumph, and I smiled towards the place 
 where Miss VT arden was standing, with the 
 smile of one who has confounded, by her 
 own prowess, the selfish machinations of her 
 persecutors. 
 
 As I was musing thus, I saw Hugo 
 emerge from the doorway of the Casino. He 
 had scarcely passed out into the sunshine, 
 however, before one of the two men I had 
 already observed, stepped forward, and laid 
 hold of his coat collar. Almost simul- 
 taneously, the second man seized him by 
 the right arm. The Prince started, and 
 ejaculated something, but we were too far 
 off to catch his words. 
 
 It all haj)pened in a moment. Miss 
 Warden and I looked on in the greatest
 
 HELEN DAYENANT. 303 
 
 amazement, scarcely believing the testimony 
 of our own eyes 
 
 My father was still looking through his 
 glasses in the direction of the Mediter- 
 ranean, and so saw nothing of what was 
 happening. 
 
 The tw^o men who had hold of Hugo now 
 led him quickly in the direction of the hotel 
 at which we had breakfasted. As they came 
 near to where we stood, — petrified with 
 astonishment, he made a sign to them to 
 stop. 
 
 '' I am arrested," he whispered, in a 
 hurried and agitated voice, holding out to 
 me the only hand that was free, as though 
 to grasp mine for comfort. 
 
 I made up my mind, at once, that it must 
 be, of course, a case of mistaken identity, 
 and that as soon as the detectives, — for 
 detectives they evidently were, — had interro- 
 gated their prisoner, all would be satisfac-
 
 304 THE STORY OF 
 
 torily cxj)laincd. I did not attcaipt, there- 
 fore, to sympathise or condole with my 
 husband. It had all happened so suddenly, 
 so unexpectedly, in the course of a few 
 seconds only, that there had not been time 
 for me to collect my ideas. I noticed, when 
 I looked into Hugo's face that it was deadly 
 pale, and thought it strange that he should 
 be so visibly affected by what could only 
 prove to be a provoking error ; but, owing 
 to the confusion and bewilderment of my 
 mind, I did not even press his outstretched 
 hand, or murmur one kindly word of fare- 
 well. 
 
 '' Affaire politique^ n^ esUce-pas ? '^ the 
 Prince asked, turning to one of the two 
 men who had hold of him. I do not know 
 whether he said this really believing it at 
 the time, or w^hether he desired merely that 
 I should believe it, and be more reassured 
 in consequence. He had often told me that
 
 HELEN DAVENANT. 305 
 
 the agents of the Eussian Government were 
 perpetually taking up innocent persons, on 
 suspicion of heing concerned in imaginary 
 conspiracies, and subjecting them to all 
 kinds of temporary annoyance. We had 
 talked upon this subject quite recently, 
 when commenting upon the mysterious dis- 
 appearance of Zoubiroff. 
 
 But the detective's answer fell upon me 
 like a thunderbolt. 
 
 " Far don, mon Frince^^ he said, speaking 
 sternly, but in a tone that was perfectly 
 respectful, ^'c^est pom' un assassindt'^ ; 
 and then the two detectives escorted their 
 prisoner into the hotel. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
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