('
 
 L I E) RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLR5ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 D226f 
 
 V.I
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 a Nobel 
 
 BY 
 
 Mrs. MACKENZIE DANIELS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 '* MY SISTER MINNIE." '' THE POOR COUSIN.' 
 '' OUR GUARDIAN," &C., &C. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 LONDON : 
 
 T. C. NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 
 
 WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 
 1851.
 
 8^3 
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MARGARET. 
 
 ') " Here then shall be our resting-place ; 
 
 here in this lonely but tempting spot we 
 
 ^ will pitch our tent, Margaret, and see how 
 
 xj the flower we have brought from sunnier 
 
 '^ dimes, will flourish in our cold English 
 
 atmosphere." 
 
 ^ The speaker was an elderly gentleman, 
 
 of a grave and rather commanding aspect 
 
 V — handsome as far as regularity of feature 
 
 '^ could make him so, but lacking that ex- 
 
 "J pression of superior intelligence which is 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 FERlfLEY MANOR. 
 
 essential to the real beauty of the human 
 countenance. 
 
 The person to whom his words were ad- 
 dressed, was a pale and softened, yet im- 
 proved likeness of himself — a calm eyed, 
 fair, and very quiet-looking girl, decidedly 
 past the first blush of youth, but scarcely 
 reaching that point at which women are 
 supposed to commence the descending road. 
 She sn)iled pleasantly at her companion's 
 rather high-flown speech, and replied, as 
 she turned from admiring the prospect, to 
 look at him. 
 
 " It will be a beautiful home, father, and 
 Edith must learn to love her own country.'' 
 
 " But it will be very lonely ;" the old 
 man said again. " I have chosen it for 
 this reason ; and you had better tell Edith 
 all about it. There are no other country 
 houses within thirty miles, and of course 
 the Fernley people will have nothing to do 
 with us, or we with them. I never will 
 mix in English society again ; it can scarcely 
 be expected of me. If you should marry
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 3 
 
 hereafter, Margaret, Edith can see more of 
 the world. But at present you must pre- 
 pare her mind for a life of solitude." 
 
 • " Edith knows that England is very 
 different from Italy," said Margaret, quietly. 
 '• She is fully prepared for the change." 
 
 " And do you think she will be happy 
 here 1" 
 
 " Indeed I hope so. I will do my best 
 to cheer and enUven her. And," (looking 
 round once more on the really charming 
 prospect) " who could pine long, father, 
 in such a home as this 1" 
 
 " You are a good girl, Margaret," said 
 the gentleman, drawing his daughter's arm 
 within his own, and descending slowly the 
 steps of the broad terrace on which they 
 had been standing. "A very good girl, 
 and when you marry I shall not fear trusting 
 Edith to your guidance." 
 
 Margaret only smiled again quietly in 
 reply to this last observation, and then 
 pointing to the sunset, advised their re- 
 B 3
 
 4 FEKNLEY MANOR. 
 
 turning at once to the inn at Fernley, 
 where they were to pass the night. 
 
 Fernley Manor was an old-fashioned 
 country house that had been uninhabited 
 for nearly twenty years. Its owner (a 
 gentleman who had spent so much money 
 in his youth, that it was necessary for him 
 to economise painfully in his age) lived en- 
 tirely abroad, sacrificing a small, annual 
 sum, with considerable reluctance, for the 
 purpose of keeping the home of his fore- 
 fathers in decent preservation ; and this 
 not for any respect he bore the time- 
 honoured dwelling, but because he hoped 
 some day or other to obtain a tenant for 
 it, through whom he should receive a rich 
 per centage for the money thus grudgingly 
 laid out. But in spite of the extreme 
 beauty of the situation, and the many ad- 
 vantages it really offered, the Manor House 
 of Fernley remained long unsought ; and 
 the disappointed proprietor, after having 
 vainly reduced the rent to a mere nominal
 
 FERNLEY MAKOR, 5 
 
 sum, and expended nearly half a year's 
 income in advertisements, was just on the 
 point of having it pulled down in disgust, 
 when chance made him acquainted with 
 Major Lascelles, an English gentleman who 
 wished to return to his own country and 
 live as unsociably as he could possibly con- 
 trive to do. 
 
 Fernley Manor was beyond all question 
 the very place for such a purpose, and the 
 description given of the house by its pro- 
 prietor, together with the moderate rent, 
 tempted Major Lascelles to leave Florence 
 at once, and (consigning his youngest 
 daughter Edith to the care of a cousin of 
 her mother's in London) journey with his 
 eldest child to the secluded village, where 
 they have been presented to the reader. 
 
 It w^as now about the beginning of 
 autumn, and the rich woods round Fernley 
 were just sprinkled with a few bright gold 
 leaves, that shone amongst the dark masses 
 of green and brown foliage, giving to the 
 scene, in the deep stillness of approaching
 
 b FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 twilight, the appearance of some ex- 
 quisitely painted landscape, on which the 
 eye delights to linger, while the mind con- 
 jures up dream -like visions to animate the 
 silent picture. The thick hedge-rows were 
 laden with hazel nuts and black -berries, the 
 slopes were bright with wild flowers, and 
 the green lanes seemed all so mazy and 
 luxuriant, that one scarcely marvelled at 
 the joyous notes that occasionally filled the 
 air with such sudden melody, and then 
 died away amidst the hanging hazel boughs 
 that shaded the narrow paths. 
 
 Margaret Lascelles walked at her father's 
 side in silence, enjoying, with an intensity 
 few could understand, the beauties nature 
 had lavished on her own dear country. 
 Eighteen years had passed since she had 
 looked on an English landscape. Eighteen 
 long years she had wandered under skies 
 that, however bright, had little interest for 
 her ; and now, with all the recollections of 
 a happy childhood fresh upon her, she 
 walks on calmly and sedately, giving no
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 7 
 
 outward evidence of the strong and scarcely 
 governable feelings that are swelling at her 
 heart. 
 
 But it was an English heart, and so its 
 impulses were in good training, and there was 
 slight fear of any one of them bursting the 
 prescribed bounds. 
 
 '' I shall have to leave you for an hour 
 to-night, Margaret ;" her companion said, 
 suddenly, " I have to meet the Fernley 
 agent for the purpose of signing the final 
 agreement, and to settle some other mat- 
 ters connected with our new residence. 
 You will be able to amuse yourself during 
 that time/' 
 
 " Certainly. I will write to Edith, since 
 you think of remaining here another day." 
 
 " Ah do so, my dear, and be sure you 
 make her understand distinctly what she 
 is to expect." 
 
 This was the letter Margaret Lascelles 
 wrote to her young sister :
 
 8 peenley manor. 
 
 " My owk deaeest Edith, 
 
 " We are obliged to defer our 
 return another day, so I will not keep you 
 in suspense respecting our future home. 
 It is an exquisite spot, and one to which 
 no descriptio7i of mine could do the 
 least justice. I long for you to see it, 
 Edith, and I shall be wofully disappointed 
 if you feel less enchanted with it than I do. 
 Our father wishes me to impress upon 
 your mind the total absence of society at 
 Fernley. He fears you will miss the social 
 life of Italy, even more than its sunny skies. 
 But my Edith has recources in herself 
 which may enhven the most solitary exist-, 
 ence, and we must all do our utmost to 
 render our English home a cheerful one. 
 If I could paint for you the sweet scene 
 that is spread before me now, with a bright 
 harvest moon shining gloriously over it, I 
 am sure you would acknowledge that your 
 native land is not so cold and barren as it 
 has been described to you. There are rich.
 
 PERITLEY MANOR. ^ 
 
 deep woods rising far in the distance, and 
 casting their heavy shadows on the smooth 
 green meadows beneath, and here and 
 there a little stream of running water 
 sparkles brilliantly in the moonlight, like a 
 silver thread giving bright relief to an un- 
 illumined gromid. But there is one object 
 that strikes me more than all the rest, 
 either because the moon shines more vividly 
 over that spot, or because it will be such a 
 charming subject for coming into my sketch 
 book at some future day. This is a dimi- 
 nutive rustic bridge spanning one of the 
 widest brooks, and half hidden in the thick 
 brushwood that is springing up on either 
 side. The wouian of our inn tells me that 
 it leads to a wild sort of dell more than a 
 mile in extent, and beyond which, stands in 
 solemn loneliness, a hunting box, called 
 ' Heather Lodge,' and to which its pro- 
 prietor (a proud unsocial Scotchman) gene- 
 rally comes about once in tlirce years. 
 
 " Edith, you will not be enchanted with 
 England at first ; but do not sullcr yourself 
 B 5
 
 10 FRRNLEY MAKOK. 
 
 to be discouraged. The gloom and cold- 
 ness that will strike you so forcibly, are 
 only on the surface. There is abundance 
 of warmth and kindliness beneath, for 
 those w^ho have the patience to seek and 
 ' watch. In two days I hope to be with 
 you again, and you will then tell me your 
 impressions of your English relatives. I 
 fear they will scarcely have time to un- 
 thaw Avhile you remain amongst them. 
 
 *' Eemember me to the circle in Harley 
 Street, and accept, dear Edith, the fond 
 affection of 
 
 " Your sister 
 
 '' Margaret "
 
 FERIs^LEY MANOR, 11 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 EDITH. 
 
 There was a small family circle assembled 
 at breakfast in Harley Street. There were 
 the father and mother sitting at opposite ends 
 of the large table, and there was a young lady 
 of about five and twenty occupying one side, 
 and a young lady of about three and twenty 
 occupying the other. A vacant chair at 
 some distance from the latter seemed to 
 intimate that an addition to the group was 
 expected. 
 
 J will not attempt a description of any 
 of these individuals at present, because you
 
 12 FERXLEY MANOR. 
 
 are going to listen for a short time to their 
 conversation. They are discussing the 
 personal appearance of their young relative, 
 Edith Lascelles, who had arrived the 
 previous evening. 
 
 " For my part," the father says (with 
 that air of indifference elderly gentlemen, 
 engaged in business, usually assume in 
 speaking of young women.) " For my 
 part I think the Major s daughter rather a 
 fine girl, and she seems monstrously well 
 conducted considering her foreign educa- 
 tion.'' 
 
 Having delivered this opinion Mr. Arm- 
 strong drank off his last cup of coffee, 
 looked at his watch, and finding he had 
 yet ample time, helped himself to another 
 slice of beef, and thought he would " try 
 a dish of tea." 
 
 During this interval the eldest Miss Arm- 
 strong was telegraphing to her sister across 
 the table, and endeavouring, with some 
 success, to convey an idea of the contempt 
 she felt for her father's judgment on the
 
 FERKLEY MANOR. 13 
 
 point in question. At length her indigna- 
 tion finds a voice. 
 
 " Really, papa, you must forgive me 
 for being amused at your notion of ' a fine 
 girl.' Why this Edith is an absolute dwarf. 
 Just imagine, Martha, (to her sister,) bow 
 Joseph would shriek at such a specimen of 
 a fine girl." 
 
 " Joseph be hanged !'' replied the father, 
 good-humouredly ; " the young jackanapes ! 
 what should he know about w^omen. Boys 
 of his age have only one mirror through 
 which they look at the fairer portion of 
 creation, and that is their own confounded 
 vanity — Hang it, Loo, your old father's 
 taste doesn't deserve to be put in competi- 
 tion with that of a young puppy's of nine- 
 teen." 
 
 " But Joseph goes so much into general 
 society," interposed the mother now, " that 
 really I think he may be allowed to have 
 some powers of discrimination ; and I agree 
 with Louisa, that he would entirely ridicule 
 your notions of a fine girl."
 
 14 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " You are all as mad as March hares, '^ 
 Mr. Armstrong retorted, with an amused 
 twitching about the corners of his mouth, 
 *' this pretty cousin has turned your heads 
 with envy — Upon my soul, women, at the 
 very best, are nothing more than maniacs 
 with lucid intervals — When does Master 
 Joe make his appearance, Mrs. A V 
 
 " This evening, I hope,^^ replied the 
 lady, with maternal warmth aggravated 
 into excess, by her husband's slighting 
 tone. 
 
 " This evening — and how long is this 
 poor little dwarf to remain with us 1" 
 
 " Two days, I fancy." 
 
 " Then before the second has expired, 
 I'll bet you a bottle of champagne, or a 
 dozen of gloves, or anything you like, that 
 our precious Joseph will be sighing at her 
 feet, and making, in short, a greater fool 
 of himself than he is at present." 
 
 In the midst of the battery of con- 
 temptuous and resentful looks, that fol- 
 lowed this boldly uttered sentence, the door
 
 PfiRKLEY MANOR. 15 
 
 opened softly, and Edith Lascelles came 
 into the room. 
 
 " I am sorry to be so late," she said, 
 with a considerable degree of quiet ease, 
 as she advanced to take the extended hand 
 of her hostess ; " but I was very tired, 
 and, I believe, fell asleep, after I had been 
 called." 
 
 " Don't apologise, my dear," Mr. Arm- 
 strong hastened to say, before his lady 
 could speak ; " you see we did not wait 
 for you, so it's of no consequence whatever. 
 Bit down, now you are come, and make a 
 good breakfast." 
 
 Edith shook hands with the whole party, 
 and then placed herself in the vacant chair 
 which Martha Armstrong had, with some 
 show of friendliness, drawn a little nearer 
 to her own. 
 
 And now began the long string of 
 queries usual on such occasions, as to whe- 
 ther the bed was comfortable, the room 
 quiet, the servants attentive, &c., &c., 
 which are so tiresome, at all times, to an-
 
 16 J^ERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 swer, a,nd so infinitely vexatious when a 
 well spread table suggests a much more 
 satisfactory manner of employing the fleet- 
 ing moments. 
 
 Edith, either from hunger or some other 
 cause, replied absently to her cousin's 
 questions, and the latter soon gave up the 
 thankless task, and proceeded to the dis- 
 cussion of a few trivial domestic matters 
 with her husband, who was buttoning his 
 coat, and evincing decided impatience to 
 be gone. 
 
 " I am sure, Mr. Armstrong, you will 
 forget to call at the wine- merchant's — you 
 always make a point of forgetting every- 
 thing — and really this is so essential, as 
 Joseph returns to-night. Do, my dear, 
 allow me to tie a piece of silk round 
 your finger, and if I make it red, it will 
 remind you, at the same time, that I want 
 a couple of fine lobsters from Hungerford 
 Market. Fatty, just fetch me my work- 
 box — I will not keep your father a 
 minute/'
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 17 
 
 But, before the work-box could be found, 
 the gentleman had made his escape, and 
 Edith (who had looked up wonderingly) 
 relapsed into the same listless state as 
 before. 
 
 " What would you like to do this 
 morning, Miss Lascelles 1" asked the lady 
 of the house, when the breakfast things 
 had been removed. *' My girls must 
 practice for an hour or two, as their music- 
 master comes to-day ; but if you care for 
 sight-seeing, I will order the carriage, and 
 take you about myself till luncheon time/' 
 
 " What is to be seen in London \'' said 
 Edith, quite unconscious of the treason 
 contained in her question. 
 
 " What is to be seen in London V 
 repeated her cousin, measuring the little 
 person before her from head to foot. 
 '* Pray, my dear, are you serious in making 
 such an enquiry V 
 
 " Quite," said Edith. " I am one of the 
 most ignorant beings in the world," 
 
 Mrs. Armstrong did not seem disposed
 
 18 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 to dispute this assertion. But she very 
 considerately went over a catalogue of all 
 the most esteemed sights in London, 
 beginning at the tower, and ending with 
 the industrious fleas, who were then in the 
 full zenith of their first triumphant season. 
 
 " You are very good,'' was the reply, 
 when the list was completed ; " but I feel 
 no curiosity about any of these things ; 
 and if you do not object, I will stay at 
 home, and listen to your daughter's music.'' 
 
 " A most extraordinary girl that is, and 
 by no means pleasing in her manner," was 
 the observation Mrs. Armstrong whispered 
 to her fair, tall daughters, as they laboured 
 together over a difficult duet in an inner 
 apartment. And this opinion was in no 
 degree modified, when half an hour after 
 she found Edith, (whon she had supposed 
 listening admiringly to the elaborate per- 
 formance in the next room) wrapped in a 
 large Indian shawl, and fast asleep upon 
 her damask sofa. 
 
 Mrs. Armstrong's first feeling was cer-
 
 FERNLEY MANOR 19 
 
 tainly one of surprise, not unmixed with 
 indignation. But as she stood, for a 
 moment, to gaze at the httle curled-up 
 figure, so unconsciously graceful in its atti- 
 tude, the hidden kindliness of her English 
 nature was excited bj the discovery of 
 tears on the dark eye-lashes of her young 
 cousin. 
 
 " Poor little soul V she said, half-aloud, 
 *•' I dare say she 's got her trials Uke the 
 rest of us. And really now I look at her 
 well, there is something rather pretty, and 
 decidedly striking, about her. I'm glad I 
 did not accept Mr. Armstrong's offer of a 
 bet, for I think it just possible that dear 
 Joe may take a fancy to the little strange 
 thing after all." 
 
 Meantime the ' little strange thing ' 
 slumbered on calmly enough ; . and after 
 watcliing her for some minutes, Mrs. Arm- 
 strong went away to the performance of 
 those domestic duties, which not only 
 occupied herself, but gave additional occu-
 
 20 PERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 pation to her servants during the whole 
 morning. 
 
 Edith was awake, and looking out of the 
 window, when her elder cousin returned to 
 the drawing-room with some needlework, 
 and without alluding to her stolen nap, the 
 former began speaking of music in general, 
 and of that the Misses Armstrong had 
 been executing in particular. 
 
 " They are thought remarkably fine 
 performers," observed the well-pleased 
 mama, believing Edith only wanted en- 
 couragement to pay a compliment. 
 
 " Are they V said the other, simply, as 
 she looked out into the street again, 
 
 ''But, perhaps you are not much of a 
 judge,'^ continued Mrs. Armstrong. " I 
 think the major said you had been accus- 
 tomed to lead an idle sort of a life in 
 Italy." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; I never did anything 
 very great in the way of study. I had such 
 bad health as a child.''
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 21 
 
 " Well, my dear, it is not too late to be- 
 gin even now. You can't be above twenty, 
 I should suppose 1" 
 
 " I am nineteen." 
 
 " Are you to have a governess in the 
 country V 
 
 " Oh ! Mrs. Armstrong, what a fright- 
 ful suggestion ! No ! a million times, 
 no!" 
 
 " Then, what, may I ask, are you to do. 
 Miss Lascelles V 
 
 " What 1 have done all my life, I fancy ! 
 Amuse m^^self, when I can — and bite my 
 finger nails when I can't. Mrs. Arm- 
 strong I have been taught to sew ; let 
 me sit beside you, and do some of that 
 work." 
 
 With evident reluctance on the part of 
 of its owner, a table-cloth was delivered 
 into the hands of the younger lady, who 
 soon proved, by the quiet dihgence she now 
 manifested, that industry, however unusual, 
 was not, altogether, an impossibility to her. 
 Mrs. Armstrong looked at her companion
 
 22 FEEi^LEY MANOR. 
 
 and wondered — and wondered, and looked 
 again ; and was just on the point of giving 
 utterance to some of the worn out common 
 places, respecting female education, that 
 were rising, mist-like, in her brain, when 
 Edith startled her by sa^dng, in the most 
 abrupt and imperative manner, 
 
 " Mrs. Armstrong, tell me about my 
 mother." 
 
 A crimson flush overspread the face of 
 the person thus strangely addressed ; and, 
 after a moment's pause, she answered the 
 question by another — 
 
 " What do you know about her. Miss 
 Lascelles 1" 
 
 " This — " said Edith, looking pale, but 
 quite composed ; " that she was your first 
 cousin, Mrs. Armstrong, that she was beau- 
 tiful and admired ; that she left papa soon 
 after I was born — and that they have never 
 met since. All this I have heard through 
 various channels — not from papa or Mar- 
 garet ; they never speak of her to me ; and 
 in days long past, my questions were al-
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 23 
 
 ways answered by terrible frowns from one, 
 and sighs and tears from the other. It is 
 a forbidden subject between us now ; but 
 my interest in a mother's fate cannot be 
 annihilated by silence. It is right that I 
 should know, at least, whether she is alive 
 or dead ; and some way or other, I will 
 know. Can yoii — will you, tell me, Mrs. 
 Armstrong 1" 
 
 " My dear, it distresses me to see you so 
 excited about a subject that has long been 
 consigned to oblivion,'' the virtuous matron 
 replied cautiously. " Besides, I really know 
 nothing about your unfortunate mother, ex- 
 cept what all the world knows, and what 
 you appear to have learnt yourself As 
 girls we mixed in different sets ; and 
 though I heard many say that Emily 
 Brereton was a beauty, I never discovered 
 myself, that she was anything more than a 
 clever, lively, coquette." 
 
 "But that was prior to her marriage," 
 said Edith, fixing her eyes steadily on the 
 face of the speaker.
 
 24 FRENLEY MANOR. 
 
 " Yes ; she refused one or two tolera- 
 ble offers ; and, at last, to the surprise of 
 everybody, accepted Major Lascelles, a 
 widower with two daughters. The 
 youngest died before you were born ; 
 but I suppose Margaret has told you all 
 
 this r 
 
 " Oh, I knew there was another girl — 
 but that does not greatly interest me. Pray 
 go on about mama." 
 
 " T have nothing more to tell, Edith. 
 You are old enough to understand that a 
 woman who leaves her husband, lays her- 
 self open to the harshest censure of the 
 world. For my own part, I wish to^judge 
 charitably. Your father, I always heard, 
 was a strange man ; very difficult to live 
 with — and extremely jealous of his young 
 and pretty wife. She was said to have a 
 violent temper, and he an unforgiving one ; 
 so it is probable that angry words parted 
 them — and that pride has kept them asun- 
 der. My dear, you are making a sad mess 
 of that table-cloth !"
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 25 
 
 Edith put it aside. 
 
 *' But this is not the opinion of the world 
 in general/' she said in an excited voice — 
 " the harsh censure you spoke of must 
 comprehend some graver charge than this 
 — let me hear all now." 
 
 Her earnestness appeared irresistible, for 
 Mrs. Armstrong replied quickl3^ 
 
 " You are rinht — the world has ascribed 
 the worst motives to her sudden disap- 
 pearance, and as your father never contra- 
 dicted the reports that speedily got abroad, 
 her name became a forbidden thing 
 amongst her own connections, and some- 
 thing worse in society. It is but fair to 
 add, however, that a few have defended 
 her throughout, and maintain that the 
 truth w^ill be discovered at last. I hope 
 sincerely they may be right — but, for my 
 own part, 1 don't believe she will ever be 
 heard of again." 
 
 There was one other question trembling 
 on Editli's lips ; but at that instant, the 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 door was opened abruptly, and the words 
 " luncheon is on the table, mamma,'^ from 
 the fair Louisa, turned Mrs. Armstrong's 
 thoughts in a totally different channel, and 
 made any continuance of the subject at 
 that time, a moral impossibility.
 
 FBENLBY MINOE. 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEW ARRIVALS, 
 
 Edith had gone to her room about half an 
 hour before the dinner hour, for the pur- 
 pose of arranging her hair, and substi- 
 tuting a lace collar for the plain linen one 
 she always wore in the morning. She had 
 been told that the family would be quite 
 alone, and consequently meditated no fur- 
 ther addition to her toilette. Indeed, her 
 thoughts just now were very far removed 
 from vanity, and its many handmaidens. 
 She was reflecting soberly enough on the 
 C 2
 
 28 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 conyersation she had recently held with 
 Mrs. Armstrong, and wondering (by no 
 means for the first time) whether that 
 mother — who had already occupied so 
 much of her thoughts, and whose name 
 was a forbidden theme — had still an actual 
 existence, or was a dim remembrance only, 
 disgraced in every mind save that of her 
 unknown daughter. 
 
 Edith Lascelles had many faults and 
 follies, as you will hereafter see ; but she 
 was too young, and had too much refine- 
 ment of heart, to be infected by the vague 
 whispers she had occasionally heard con- 
 cerning this mysterious parent. To her, 
 there was a fascination in this very mys- 
 tery, although an ardent desire to fathom 
 it had long been included in those day- 
 dreams and yearnings that filled her mind, 
 to the exclusion of more wholesome, men- 
 tal food. 
 
 On the present occasion, her visionary 
 speculations were destined to come to an 
 untimely end, by the sudden entrance of
 
 PERNLEY MA.NOR. 29 
 
 Martha Armstrong, attired in a manner 
 that was eminently calculated to bring 
 down the most romantic thoughts to a 
 level with this everj-day world of vanity 
 and folly. 
 
 Her dress was of a bright pink barege, 
 flounced quite to the waist, with exceed- 
 ingly short sleeves, and what the English 
 call '* very low in the neck/' A super- 
 abundance of stiff petticoats deprived her 
 figure of the little grace that nature had 
 given it, and, with the variety of bracelets, 
 brooches, and chains that adorned her 
 person, reminded one very forcibly of a 
 huge pincushion, in a fancy bazaar, doing 
 service as a supporter of all the showiest 
 trinkets in the stall. 
 
 Edith glanced up at her quickly, and 
 then stooped to hide the smile it was quite 
 impossible to restrain. Miss Armstrong 
 spared her the necessity of saying any- 
 thing, b}'' immediately' speaking herself 
 
 " My dear Miss Lascelles, the dinner-
 
 30 FEEl^LEY MANOR. 
 
 bell will ring in a few minutes, and you 
 have not yet begun to dress." 
 
 " I am quite ready," said Edith, giving 
 one look into the glass, and smiling again 
 as she did so ; " but where are you going, 
 with that magnificent toilette." 
 
 " No where," (with a surprised expres- 
 sion.) " This is my every-day dinner 
 dress — I should have thought it would 
 have been terribly dowdy by the side of 
 your foreign fashions." 
 
 " Quite the reverse, you see. Our 
 fashions are of the simplest kind." 
 
 ''^And you really intend to dine and 
 spend the evening in that high, dark dress \ 
 You must excuse my commenting on it ; 
 but it does seem so very odd." 
 
 "Your mamma told me you would be 
 quite alone, so I never dreamt of making 
 any change, except my collar and cuiFs. 
 If my appearance shocks any of your 
 English prejudices, you must put me at a 
 side table, or in the nursery, if you have 
 one"
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 31 
 
 " Goodness gracious, what an idea ! I 
 am sure you look so nice as you are, that 
 it does not signify in the least. If you 
 like, though, I can lend you a couple of 
 short, stiff petticoats, which would give a 
 little more style to your figure." 
 
 *' Thank you," said Edith ; " but I am 
 not an admirer of style." 
 
 And this was perfectly true, if Miss 
 Martha Armstrong was to be taken as a 
 specimen of what she recommended. 
 
 Astonished more than offended at this 
 refusal of her generous offer, the young 
 lady continued — 
 
 " It is so fortunate for you that Joseph 
 returns to-night, for you would otherwise, 
 I fear, have found staying with us rather 
 a dull affair. Louisa and I go out a good 
 deal ; but we have very little company at 
 home, because mamma thinks it too ex- 
 pensive." 
 
 Edith looked indifferent ; but her cousin 
 either did not notice this, or liked talking 
 too well to care for it if she did.
 
 32 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 "Yes," she continued, as they went 
 down stairs together, " nothing could be 
 more lucky, as Joseph can take you about 
 everywhere ; and, as he has learnt French, 
 you can talk scandal, or politics, or senti- 
 ment together, without the slightest fear of 
 mamma or papa understanding you/' 
 
 " Is your brother at college V said Edith, 
 for the sake of saying something. 
 
 " Oh, no ; he is intended, T believe, for a 
 country gentleman, because he has no par- 
 ticular fancy for any profession. He was 
 at Eton, for a short time ; but they must 
 have neglected him shamefully, for he 
 made no progress in his studies ; and now 
 he is at a private tutor's, which he likes 
 much better, because he lives with the 
 family, and they are rather gay people." 
 
 Having now arrived at the drawing-room 
 where the rest of the party were assembled, 
 Edith was spared for the present any fur- 
 ther details concerning the fascinating 
 Joseph ; and she amused herself, till dinner 
 was announced, in counting the number
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 33 
 
 of colours Mrs. Armstrong had contrived 
 to display in her very elaborate toilette. ' 
 
 Mr. Armstrong (pere) although an im- 
 portant personage in his own private 
 circle, was not a man calculated to inspire 
 any particular interest in strangers — for 
 he was simply one of a class, a fair, but 
 common-place specimen of the middle-aged, 
 bustling, pompous, prejudiced Englishman ; 
 good tempered and jovial when everything 
 goes right, and very bitter and snarling 
 when anyching goes wrong, generally, on 
 these last occasions venting his spleen by 
 railing against foreigners, because they are 
 safer objects of attack than his own family, 
 and there is here a wider scope for abuse 
 and irony. 
 
 It happened that this day Mr. Armstrong 
 senior (who was a junior partner in a large 
 banking-house) had experienced some little 
 contretemps in the city, and returned home 
 quite in a November mood, having entirely 
 forgotten all his wife's commissions. Tiie 
 consequence of this was a sharp war of 
 c 5
 
 34 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 words between tlie offender and the offended, 
 which lasted till the joint was removed ; 
 when the gentleman finding he was likely 
 to get the worst of it, prudently retired 
 from the field, and turned his weapons of 
 attack against the state of things in general, 
 which he declared were about as bad as 
 they could be, and against all foreigners, 
 and foreign countries in particular, which 
 he swore were not eyen fit for Christians 
 to speak of 
 
 Edith listened at first in perfect in- 
 difference ; then, as the gentleman grew 
 warmer, in amazement ; and finally, as he 
 appeared to direct his observations princi- 
 pally to herself, in some indignation, and 
 growing contempt for her countrj-meu. 
 
 " I say," vociferated the now excited 
 speaker, '' that Frenchmen are nothing 
 more than monkeys with the gift of speech ; 
 they dress like monkeys, they walk like 
 monkeys, they hop and bow like monkeys ; 
 and they govern their precious country 
 about as well as a set of monkeys would
 
 FKRNLEY MANOR. 35 
 
 govern the world. If either of my daughters 
 was to give me a Frenchman, or an Italian, 
 or a German (for there's no diflference) for 
 a son-in-law, I'd horsewhip her, if she was 
 fortv vears old." 
 
 Edith seeing she was expected to say 
 something, observed that there could not 
 be much danger, since the young ladies 
 knew their father's sentiments on the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 " Danger, Miss Lascelles, did you say 
 danger 1" he continued, swallowing a 
 bumper of port to calm his agitated spirits. 
 " There had better not be any danger, I 
 can tell them, or we'll see who's master 
 here — James,"' (to the servant who was 
 bringing him a second plate of stewed 
 pears d la Fran^aise), " what's the meaning 
 of that confounded noise on the stairs V 
 The servant vanished. 
 " Perhaps its dear Joe," said the mother, 
 half rising from her chair, but re-seating 
 herself on meeting a glance from her 
 husband, which contained a command that
 
 36 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 there might be no disturbance while dinner 
 ■was on the table. 
 
 "If you please, sir," said James, re -enter- 
 ing the room, "its Master Joseph and another 
 young gentleman, who have just arrived, 
 and are carrying their boxes and port- 
 manteaux up stairs." 
 
 " Their boxes and portmanteaux !" ex- 
 claimed the papa, darting a look of scowl- 
 ing enquiry at his wife ; " what the deuce, 
 Betsy, has that young jackanapes been 
 about now V 
 
 " Brought a friend, perhaps, to dinner 
 and spend the evening," suggested the 
 mother, timidly. " If so, my dear, we 
 must, of course, be civil to the young gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 " Go, and find out what it is, and who V 
 said Mr. Armstrong to the servant in at- 
 tendance. " 1 don't approve of such 
 liberties in my children ; and I'll teach 
 Master Joseph to bring his friends here 
 without leave!" 
 
 Even as the last words were uttered, the
 
 FERNLEY MANOI?. 37 
 
 door opened, and the heir of all the Arm- 
 strongs — a tall, stiff, but rather handsome, 
 youth, ushered into the room, and intro- 
 duced, as his particular friend, *' Monsieur 
 Euo:ene de la Tour," who had kindlv con- 
 sented to spend the holidays with him.
 
 38 FERNLEY MANOR 
 
 CH^PTEK IV. 
 
 JOSEPH AND HIS FRIEND, 
 
 Monsieur Eugrne de la Tour, little 
 dreaming of the unqualified abuse that had 
 just been lavished on his country and his 
 countrymen, adranced witli a most grace- 
 ful bow towards the table, apparently quite 
 unconscious of the coldness, amounting to 
 incivility, that marked the aspect of his 
 friend's father ; and much more interested, 
 to speak truth, in examining the faces of 
 the young ladies, than .in ascertaining the 
 amount of welcome he was likely to i-e- 
 ceive from his host and hostess — for, with
 
 FElJKLEY MANOR. 39 
 
 the happy self-esteem of his compatriots, 
 Monsieur Eugene never permitted himself 
 to doubt that his society conferred pleasure 
 on every one who was fortunate enough to 
 obtain it. 
 
 The easy assurance of his manner sur- 
 prised Mr. Armstrong into giving him a 
 tolerable welcome, though the Englishman 
 still shone out in his clouded and somewhat 
 threatening countenance. Edith observed, 
 however, that in spite of this, and what 
 had gone before, both Louisa and Martha 
 Armstrong smoothed their hair, and sat 
 more upright in their chairs than they had 
 previously done ; and that the latter im- 
 mediately slipped one of her white shoulders, 
 in a negligent manner, out of the pink 
 barege^ and assumed a look of sublime con- 
 tempt for all terrestrial things. 
 
 Yet there was nothing in the young 
 Frenchman's outward aspect in tlie least 
 calculated to inspire admiration or com • 
 mand respect. He was of almost dwarfish 
 stature, and totally devoid in form and fea-
 
 40 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 tiire of that comeliness which women love 
 — perhaps it was to this circumstance that 
 he owed Mr. Armstrong's toleration of his 
 presence, for though all men will deny it, 
 there is no doubt that most of the lords of 
 the creation prefer extending their patronage 
 and hospitality to those of their own sex, 
 whom they feel certain no woman can 
 admire. 
 
 Be this as it may, the master of the 
 house gradually thawed towards his foreign 
 guest, who spoke English remarkably well; 
 and by the time the ladies left the dinin^-- 
 room, Eugene's fascinations, or ugliness, 
 or his own port wine, had produced on Mr, 
 Armstrong's temper such a very pleasing 
 effect, that he was once more the jovial, 
 good-humoured, facetious host, amiably 
 desirous that all around him should be as 
 happy and comfortable as himself 
 
 I will not intrude upon the ladies' private 
 discussions in the drawing-room, whicli 
 contained about as much, and no more 
 sense or wisdom, than such after dinner
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 41 
 
 discussions generally do — I wish you to ac- 
 company me to Edith's sleeping apartment, 
 where she had retired to communicate in a 
 letter to her sister the impressions made 
 upon her by her English relatives. One 
 short passage will suffice to show you of 
 what nature these impressions were. 
 
 " It seems to me, Margaret, that I have 
 suddenly descended into a new world, the 
 aspect of which (I candidly avow) de- 
 lighteth me not at all. Are these people 
 really eccentricities, or have I been living 
 all my life in dream-land, and only now 
 alighted upon the real, every-day earth ?. 
 If this is indeed the case, if 1 am hence- 
 forth to do as they do, and feel as they 
 feel, if this cold English air is to wither up 
 all lofty sentiment, all the poetry of 
 existence, and convert us into mere animated 
 machines, capable of deriving pleasure or 
 amusement from the trivialities that even 
 children ought to scorn — if this is indeed 
 so, I fear, Margaret, that it will be very
 
 42 FERKLEY MANOR. 
 
 long before those words which excite such 
 enthuisasm in you — * / dwell among mine 
 own people ' — will produce any other effect 
 than one of disgust on me/^ 
 
 It was some satisfaction to Edith, when 
 her letter was finished, to reflect on the 
 discrimination which had led her so quickly 
 to fathom the characters of the people she 
 was with. Without being vain (in the usual 
 meaning of the word) of her own judg- 
 ment and abilities, she had an exceedingly 
 clear consciousness that her intellect was 
 not a common one, and this consciousness 
 unfortunately often led her to form a wrong 
 estimate, not only of herself, but of others. 
 — Stupidity was to Edith Lascelles a crime 
 never to be forgiven, and cleverness on the 
 contrary covered a multitude of sins. 
 
 But just now she was really unhappy, and 
 for a cause so natural that it would be 
 cruel to look out for her faults, instead of 
 pitying her distress. Sitting at that high 
 dingy window, gazing down on a sombre
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 43 
 
 London streets, uncheered by a single ray 
 of the blessed sun, who could blame her 
 for the tears that fell, in thinking of the 
 bright land she had left, with its enchanted 
 aspect of smiling gladness 1 The contrast 
 was appalling — it made Edith shudder, and 
 turn away with an expression of gloom 
 that sat strangely upon her almost childish 
 features. 
 
 In this mood she might have returned 
 to the drawing-room, and remained de- 
 jected and miserable during the whole 
 evening, without giving more than a pass- 
 ing thought to any of the people around 
 her, had not a slight incident occurred, 
 which by awaking one of the strongest 
 passions of her nature, not only imparted 
 an active interest to the present, but exer- 
 cised a still more active influence over her 
 future destiny. 
 
 It happened that the room into which 
 Monsieur de la Tour's luggage had been 
 hastily carried, adjoined the one that 
 Edith occupied ; and the walls being
 
 44 FER.NLEY MANOR. 
 
 exceedingly thin, every word, not spoken 
 in a whisper, could be distinctly heard 
 from one to the other. Just as Miss Las- 
 celles opened her door to go out, a loud 
 laughing on the stairs proclaimed the 
 approach of the young men, and not wish- 
 ing to meet them, she went back into her 
 own apartment, intending to remain there 
 till they were safe in the next room. The 
 first words of their conversation, which she 
 could not avoid hearing, arrested her 
 curiosity, and she stayed to enjoy it all. 
 
 " I can't believe a syllable," Joseph 
 Armstrong was saying, in a bantering 
 tone to his companion, " upon my honour, 
 I think youVe only joking — Loo and Patty 
 are well enough, and I dare say will get 
 very decent husbands, one of these days, 
 if I give myself any trouble about it ; but 
 hang it ! my good fellow, they 're not to 
 be compared to that little fairy down 
 stairs, no more than you 're to be compared 
 to — ah, who shall I say 1 the AppoUo 
 Belvidere now, or the Duke of Wellington."
 
 FERJ<LEY MANOR. 45 
 
 " I thank you, very much , Master Joseph," 
 replied his friend, in a voice that struck 
 Edith, as anything but friendly. " You do 
 pay Buch charming compHments, it is quite 
 admirable ; but you must permit me to 
 say again, that I find your sisters quite 
 handsome, elegant, distingue young females, 
 and the little one whom you call ' fairy,' 1 
 find insignificant, small, baby-like, and not 
 to ray taste in any way." 
 
 Edith bit her lip and felt the flush of 
 indignation cover her pale cheek. " The 
 miserable dwarfish boy ! how did he dare 
 even to breathe her name — his taste indeed, 
 yet it was too ridiculous to excite anger ; 
 she should laugh in scorn at any other 
 time, if she were anything less unhappy 
 than at present — it was absurd to suppose 
 that she could be angry at such contempti- 
 ble folly and impertinence." 
 
 All very fine, Miss Edith Lascelles, and 
 highly satisfactory to yourself; but that 
 flush did not come upon your pretty face 
 for nothing, and as for laughing, depend
 
 AC FEENLET MANOR. 
 
 on it a woman is never less inclined for 
 such recreation, than when she has the 
 misfortune to hear by accident her personal 
 charms depreciated. 
 
 Joseph Armstrong spoke next, and the 
 listener grew more and more attentive. 
 
 " Well then, your taste is not so good 
 as I thought it — that's all I've got to say ; 
 except that it will be no manner of use 
 you're taking a fancy to Loo or Patty, for 
 the governor hates Frenchmen like the 
 deuce, and I expect he'd just as soon have 
 Beelzebub for a son-in-law as you, or any 
 other foreigner in the world." 
 
 " Your observations. Master Joseph," re- 
 plied Eugene, in a voice of suppressed 
 anger, " are always in such admirable 
 taste, that I should never have suspected 
 you of the bad taste you display in admir- 
 ing Mademoiselle Edith/' 
 
 Whether Mademoiselle Edith understood 
 the irony of this speech or not, I am un- 
 prepared to say, but it is very certain that 
 Master Joseph did not, and that he re-
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 47 
 
 turned to the subject with renewed enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 " Well now, upon my honour, I declare 
 you are too hard upon me, and my pretty 
 little cousin, whom I intend seriously to 
 patronise — so you had better be civil to 
 her, or you and I shall fall out — not too 
 civil, mind you, old boy ! for, in spite of 
 what you say about the girl, I wouldn^t 
 answer if she made soft eyes at you, for 
 you're not becoming over head and ears — 
 you understand, I say V* 
 
 " There is nothing very difficult of com- 
 prehension in your language," replied the 
 other, with his slow, measured pronuncia- 
 tion ; ** but set your heart at rest — the 
 small lady down stairs might make soft 
 eyes, as you call them, at me for ever, and 
 yet she should obtain no smile in return. 
 Let us go to your sisters now." 
 
 Edith opened the door softly, and had 
 reached the bottom of the stairs be- 
 fore they came out of their room. When
 
 48 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 the joung men joined the family, she was 
 seated, calm and pale, with a book of en- 
 gravings in her hand. 
 
 Mrs. Armstrong immediately seized 
 upon her son, and overwhelmed him with 
 a multitude of trivial questions, in which 
 her two daughters joined her. 
 
 " Was he perfectly happy with his pre- 
 sent tutor ? what was the wife like 1 what 
 sort of dinners did they give 1 who did 
 they visit V and a dozen other enquiries 
 of equal magnitude, which Joseph an- 
 swered cheerfully, and with considerable 
 attention to details, often applying to his 
 friend (who was a fellow pupil) for con- 
 firmation of his own statements. 
 
 At length, to Edith's relief, Mr. Arm- 
 strong came in from the dining-room, and 
 tea and coffee promised some slight break 
 in this most tedious of domestic gossip. 
 
 " Come, Joe," said the father, sitting 
 down amongst them, " we must have a 
 specimen of your French, my boy — you
 
 FEE2^LEY MANOR. 49 
 
 and Monsieur there, ought to give us a 
 lesson to-night. What do you think of my 
 son's accent, Monsieur 1" 
 
 " It is quite unique, I assure you," re- 
 phed the young Frenchman, feeUng pretty 
 secure, at present, in the indulgence of his 
 satire. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it, Joe ; you must 
 talk to your cousin — she is half a foreigner, 
 you know ; and none of us, at home, make 
 much hand of the parley -vooing." 
 
 " I'm sure," said Josepli, looking sulky, 
 " I'm not going to bother myself about 
 any language but my own, when I'm out 
 of school — that would be a great hardship, 
 I think." 
 
 " Ha, ha, my boy, you've not much idea 
 of hardships yet, I see ; but just put that 
 plirase into French, and then I'll excuse 
 you for the rest of the evening ; and we'll 
 get up a dance, or something to make you 
 all merry." 
 
 The junior Armstrong had a strong 
 passion for dancing, and this for reasons 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 good ; so though not much addicted to 
 obedience in general, he made an effort on 
 this occasion to comply with his worthy 
 parent's request ; and after due consider- 
 ation brought forth with an accent that 
 might well be called unique, ''Cela ^erait 
 un grand dur vauseau je penseJ^ 
 
 Edith was not quite proof against this ; 
 she put down her book hastily, and walked 
 to the window, leaving Joseph to the loud 
 commendations of his admiring relatives, 
 and the quiet satire of his foreign friend. 
 This latter joined her in a few minutes. 
 
 " Mademoiselle finds something interest- 
 ing in the street, probably/' he began, in 
 his softest voice. " Are you fond of Punch 
 and Judy, Miss Lascelles V^ 
 
 Edith's eye flashed as she turned towards 
 the speaker. 
 
 " No," she said, in a tone as measured 
 as his own, without its softness, "but I 
 would rather look at that puppet show than 
 at a dressed up monkey, or a dancing dog. 
 The most ridiculous caricature of nature,
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 51 
 
 is less distasteful to me than nature itself 
 misshapen, or represented in a repulsive 
 form." 
 
 Eugene smiled as blandly as if he had 
 just received a personal compliment, and 
 approaching nearer to Edith, asked her 
 what she thought of her cousin Joseph, 
 and his talent for languages. Again her 
 reply came slowly and distinctly. 
 
 " Neither w^ould I choose him for a 
 bosom friend, nor make a butt of him, 
 while sharing the hospitality of his father. 
 Now Monsieur de la Tour return to the 
 tea-table, and leave me to enjoy my puppet 
 show alone — ^I seldom take tea." 
 
 There was an imperiousness in her tone 
 that left the other no better choice than 
 to obey, but Edith was perfectly right in 
 supposing that she had made herself a very 
 prominent place in his thoughts ; and she 
 preferred that at present this place should 
 have no sunshine about it. 
 
 The instant the tea things had disap- 
 peared, Joseph vociferated loudly for the 
 D 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 II t liumc I iDnxnw
 
 52 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 promised dar.ce, and his mother anxious to 
 see him display the only accomphshment in 
 which he excelled, warmly seconded the 
 motion. So tables and chairs were rolled 
 in all directions, and Louisa Armstrong 
 volunteered to play the first quadrille, on 
 condition that her sister took the musician's 
 part in the first polka. 
 
 Joseph was now in the highest spirits, 
 and he solicited the honour of becoming 
 his cousin's partner with an air that plainly 
 intimated he considered himself the con- 
 descending party. Edith felt more amused 
 than angry at this absurdity, for she had 
 measured Master Joe's intellect at the 
 first glance, and knew that if she chose it, 
 the silly boy could be transformed into one 
 of the meekest of her slaves. Whether 
 such a state of things would be desirable, 
 must be an after consideration, depending 
 on the airs he gave himself — at present 
 she contemplated making him useful in 
 another way. 
 
 >ionsieur Eugene, as the partner of the
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 53 
 
 tall, stout Patty, appeared even more 
 diminutive and insignificant than he had 
 done before, but the impression he made 
 on strangers must have ditTered essentially 
 from the opinion he had formed of himself, 
 to judge at least by the beaming look of 
 complacency that overspread his features 
 as he capered through the figures of the 
 quadrille, causing Mr. Armstrong to whisper 
 in a tone of triumph to his wife that his 
 comparison respecting monkeys was being 
 illustrated to perfection. 
 
 Whatever capabilities Edith's partner 
 possessed for dancing, he certainly could 
 not boast of many for conversation, other- 
 wise, his admiration of his pretty cousin 
 would have induced him to make some 
 attempt to interest her, during the very 
 favourable opportunity he now enjoyed. 
 That he preserved a rigid silence, must be 
 attributed, I think, partly to this deficiency 
 in mental resources, and partly to the very 
 severe attention he was besto\\ing on his
 
 54 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 feet, which was excusable, inasmuch as all 
 the talent he was gifted with, lay therein. 
 
 But Edith, not being able to amuse 
 herself in the same way, suddenly roused 
 her silent companion from his deep abstrac- 
 tion, by saying, in a low voice — 
 
 " You have chosen a strange person for 
 a friend, I think. Is Monsieur de la Tour 
 amiable V 
 
 Joseph was awake in a moment. 
 
 " Oh, he is an odd fellow, I know, and 
 not over and above amiable ; but as all the 
 other boys hated him, and he took a won- 
 derful fancy to me, I could n't very well 
 help asking him here for the holidays. 
 Poor fellow ! he's quiet and harmless, and 
 you knoT\, Miss Lascelles, one must be a 
 little civil to those who are fond of us.'' 
 
 " Certainly," said Edith, wondering how 
 much higher cousin Joseph would succeed 
 in pulling his shirt collar, which he had 
 even now brought (in his self-importance) 
 quite close to his ears. " Certainly one
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 55 
 
 must ; and of course your friend will be 
 very grateful for your kindness." 
 
 " Oh yes, he'd better, or he and I shall 
 fall out, and then he'll be badly off, I can 
 tell him, for he's got another year to stay 
 in England, and nobody is likely to ask 
 him out, except myself, unless Alick 
 Boisragon returns from Scotland — and he's 
 so good natured, that he'll do anything. 
 Engene is always boasting of a visit he 
 paid last winter to Alick's friends in Devon- 
 shire," 
 
 " Who is Alick Boisragon ?" asked Edith, 
 as she perceived Monsieur de la Tour look- 
 ing earnestly at her and her cousin. 
 
 " He was a pupil of Mr. Burkitt's before 
 I went there ; and a mighty favourite with 
 everybody. He came on a visit last half, 
 and I was quite taken with him myself — 
 indeed I should have asked him here instead 
 of the Frenchman, only he was going to 
 Scotland to stay some time with a rich 
 cousin ; and he did n't know when he 
 would be back."
 
 56 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " What is the age of this paragon V^ 
 
 " Oh he must be twenty at least— per- 
 haps more — I dare say he '11 marry in 
 Scotland^ for he's one of the handsomest 
 fellows I ever saw — such a contrast to 
 somebody — you understand?" 
 
 " Perfectly — I suppose this somebody is 
 yery clever V^ 
 
 " Well, they say he is, but for my part 
 I never discovered it, and Fm pretty sharp 
 too in general." 
 
 " Is he vain r 
 
 *' I believe you — as lucifer — just look at 
 him now — did you ever see such a fright? '' 
 
 " He is unfortunate," replied Edith, and 
 as the quadrille was now finished, Joseph, 
 was left to interpret this expression in his 
 own way. 
 
 The sisters having changed places, a 
 polka was immediately called for, and 
 Eugene neglecting the fair Louisa came up 
 to Edith with a most humble and obsequious 
 bow. 
 
 " Mademoiselle must not bestow all her
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 57 
 
 favours on the happy cousin, I beg for 
 one polka only." 
 
 " I never dance it," was the reply, and 
 as the speaker turned away, a shudder, so 
 slight as to be rather felt than seen, passed 
 over her, and Eugene with a momentary 
 blanching of his thin lip, walked towards 
 Louisa Armstrong, and was speedily whirl- 
 ing her round the room, with all the ani- 
 mation for which his countrymen are re- 
 markable. 
 
 When Joseph had had enough of dancing, 
 his sisters executed several difficult duet'-, 
 both vocal and instrumental, and the young 
 foreigner applauded them to their hearts 
 content. 
 
 " I am sorry you don't play or sing, my 
 love," said Mrs. Armstrong, condescendingly 
 to Edith, who was again amusing herself 
 with the book of engravings. 
 
 " Pardon mo, I do both occasionally ; 
 but my finger*^ are out of practice now," 
 
 " Oh really," exclaimed both the young
 
 ♦58 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 ladies, " we had no idea of it— mama, you 
 must insist upon her playing something/' 
 
 " I Tvill sing if you like/' Edith said, 
 going towards the piano. " We do little 
 else but sing in Italy.'' 
 
 What a wild, thrilling, untutored voice 
 it was — how full of rich and melancholy 
 sweetness — how fraught with tales of the 
 bright land where its powers had been 
 first awakened — how exquisite and sub- 
 duing in its girlish freshness. Even the 
 cold English natures of Edith's listeners 
 w^ere warmed into enthusiasm, and forget - 
 fulness of rivalry, as they experienced, with 
 silent wonderment, the effect that a human 
 voice could produce. 
 
 "Bravo, my clear — bravo," exclaimed 
 Mr. Armstrong, (who, though he would not 
 have known if every note had been out of 
 tune, was still conscious of having been 
 more softened than he had ever been since 
 the day Mrs. A. had consented to be his — 
 and that was nine and twenty years ago)
 
 FERl^LEY MANOR. 59 
 
 " Upon my word, youVe a perfect St. 
 Cecilia. Louisa and Martha must hide 
 their diminished heads for the future — Joe, 
 what do you think of that V 
 
 Joseph^s open mouth was a raluable 
 commentary in itself ; and Mrs. Armstrong 
 and her daughters frankly expressed their 
 astonishment and admiration. 
 
 Monsieur Engene alone remained mute ; 
 but when Edith passed him, in returning 
 to her seat, he looked up for a moment, 
 and muttered, in a voice that she only 
 could hear, the single word — '* Syren.''
 
 ft# TERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHAPTER y. 
 
 JOSEPH IK LOTE. 
 
 Major Lascelles was detained at Fernley, 
 by business connected with his recent 
 purchase, several days longer than he had 
 anticipated, and Margaret employed this 
 time in exploring the woods and lanes 
 round their new home, and writing long 
 letters to her sister Edith, whom she 
 pictured as suffering a perfect martyrdom 
 amidst comparative strangers, and shut out 
 from all those glories of nature which they 
 both alike appreciated.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 61 
 
 But although Edith had few sympathies 
 with her present companions, and dishked 
 London more and more every day, she had 
 managed to create an interest for herself, 
 that however unworthy and ill-judged, 
 effectually kept away the ennui she would 
 otherwise have experienced. 
 
 You will have seen already that self- 
 esteem was one of Edith's besetting sins — 
 it was a darling passion, and not to be 
 offended with impunity. Eugene de la 
 Tour had dared to question her fascina- 
 tions — he, a misshapen, miserable atom 
 of a man, had presumed to doubt her 
 powers of captivation, and therefore he 
 must be made to feel their sting. But to 
 render her victory more triumphant, and 
 prolong what was really an amusement to 
 her, she resolved to goad him into hatred 
 first, and then draw him gently, but surely, 
 to her feet. He should crawl in the dust 
 — he should bow his forehead to the earth 
 — he should despise himself for the abject 
 love he owned, and yet love the more for
 
 62 FLENLEY MANOR* 
 
 this self- contempt ; and when all was 
 accomplished, when the presumptuous boy 
 had become a trembling worshipper, and 
 learned to exist only in her smiles, then 
 would she spurn him from her, with long 
 gathering scorn, and taunt him with his 
 former insulting words. 
 
 Such was the object that Edith Lascelles 
 proposed to herself, as a remedy against 
 vain regrets, and a means of feeding the 
 hungry places in her mind, till fate should 
 send them a more tempting banquet. 
 
 I do not wish to say one word in vin- 
 dication of her character or conduct, for I 
 am painting a most imperfect being ; but 
 you must not pronounce her utterly worth- 
 less on account of the foolish game she was 
 going to play. There was much levity, 
 much recklessness in Edith^s nature ; but 
 her heart was pure and warm, and con- 
 tained within its secret recesses many of 
 woman^s noblest attributes. Whether these 
 would be nurtured into life and vigour, or 
 perish through the multitude of weeds
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 63 
 
 that grew around them, time and circum- 
 stance alone could decide. Let us follow 
 her patiently along the winding path of 
 life, pity her when her footsteps turn 
 astray, and ever bear in mind that we 
 ourselves are pilgrims on the same journey, 
 with feet as liable to stumble, with eyes as 
 likely to be dazzled, and with judgments 
 as feeble and imperfect as hers. 
 
 Joseph Armstrong was not long in ful- 
 filling his father's prediction, and yielding 
 up his boyish heart into the keeping of his 
 bewitching cousin ; but this conquest had 
 been too easy, and the captive was too in- 
 significant, to afford Edith any strong 
 gratification. She was a little amused at 
 the mother's anxiety, and intense watch- 
 fulness of her precious boy ; but, beyond 
 this, it excited small interest, except as a 
 means of advancing the object on which 
 she had set her heart. 
 
 Poor Joseph, like all very youthful 
 lovers, was jealous even of his ov\n shadow,
 
 64 FEUNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 if it came^ nearer to the object of his 
 adoration than himself ; he was jealous of 
 eyerybody and everything, but, above all 
 he was jealous of his sprightly friend, and 
 wept in spirit, daily and hourly, over the 
 infatuation that had led him to bring a 
 stranger to his father's house. 
 
 Not that Eugene ever expressed any 
 warmer admiration of Edith than he 
 had done at first, or strove to monopolise 
 her attention, or gazed at her with looks 
 of love — but he was four or five years 
 older than Joseph ; he professed to under- 
 !5tand women ; and Edith herself had once 
 asked if he were not clever. What more 
 could any idolater of nineteen require to 
 place him on the rack ? 
 
 Miss Lascelles having remarkably keen 
 eyes, saw exactly how matters were, and 
 lost no opportunity of expressing to her 
 lovesick cousin the contempt and aversion 
 with which his fiiend inspired her. This 
 answered the double purpose of soothing
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 65 
 
 the first, and irritating the last ; for, of 
 course, every word was eagerly repeated, 
 as Edith knew, and intended it shoujd be. 
 But Eugene studiously avoided betraying 
 any outward sign of mortification; in 
 inanner, he was gay and animated to ab- 
 surdity, and flirted with the two sisters as 
 Frenchmen alone can flirt, distinguishing 
 each by turns, yet giving no oflence to the 
 other, swearing all things, and meaning 
 none, making his attentions necessary, 
 though exciting no false maiden hopes, 
 and creating no maternal fears. Truly, it 
 was no fool's head that nature had set 
 upon those ill-fashioned shoulders, and 
 Edith reflected with satisfaction that she 
 had an adversary whose defeat would do 
 some credit to her skill. 
 
 Mr. Armstrong, not being much at home, 
 saw little of what was going on, and, in- 
 deed, he rarely interfered in anything un- 
 connected with business, perfectly satisfied 
 with his wife's capabilities for managing 
 ber grown-up children. But there were
 
 66 FERNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 occasions when it was expedient to call his 
 manly judgment into council, and Mrs. 
 Armstrong (to her credit be it said) w^as 
 never backward, when such emergencies 
 occurred, in soliciting the advice of her 
 honoured lord and master. I will not un- 
 dertake to declare that she al\^ ays availed 
 herself of these valuable counsels ; but 
 then (as she said) she had paid him the 
 compliment of consulting him ; and that 
 was as much as any husband had a right 
 to expect. 
 
 Edith Lascelles had been their guest for 
 nearly a week, when, one evening, having 
 seen all the young people safely deposited 
 in the drawing-room, Mrs. Armstrong re- 
 turned to the dinner table where the master 
 of the house was sitting alone with his port ; 
 Taking a chair beside him the lady began 
 thus — 
 
 " My dear, I wish to consult with you 
 about a little matter that is worrying me 
 just now. Can you favour me with your 
 serious attention '?"
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 67 
 
 " Certainly, my love, certainly. 1 suppose 
 it is relative to the new curtains for the 
 breakfast room V 
 
 *' No, Mr. Armstrong, it is as far remote 
 from curtains as possible. The mother of 
 a family may be supposed, I should think, 
 to have graver cares, occasionally, than 
 those connected with furniture or house- 
 keeping — but it is so like you to treat _my 
 anxieties with contempt !" 
 
 " My dear, pray go on with your 
 story, or I shall not get my nap before tea 
 time.*' 
 
 " Good gracious ! what perfect brutes 
 men are ! always thinking of their ani- 
 mal enjoyments. Well, Mr. Armstrong, I 
 will not detain you long. I am uneasy 
 about Joseph.^' 
 
 " What's the matter with him V* 
 
 " My dear, he is evidently in love ; you 
 remember you said he would be — and so 
 far you were right — and the girls and my- 
 self were wrong. But that is not the ques- 
 tion — the question is — what is to be done V
 
 68 FERNT.EY MANOR. 
 
 *' With whom ? — Joseph or the lady 1" 
 
 " Oh ! praj be serious for once, Mr. 
 Armstrong ; I assure you the poor boy is 
 quite unhappy ; and what confirms me in 
 my behef that it is really growing into a 
 serious attachment is, that he sent away his 
 pudding untouched to-day ; and I never 
 knew Joe, well or ill, refuse roly-poly pud- 
 ding before." 
 
 Mr. Armstrong swallowed two bumpers 
 of port — during which process, his wife 
 looked on with evident signs of disapproba- 
 tion and surprise. 
 
 " Well !" (in rather a sharpened tone), 
 " have you no remark to offer V 
 
 " My dear, what on earth, remains for 
 me to say V replied the gentleman, in a 
 slightly thick, and decidedly drowsy, tone. 
 " If the young man has refused roly-poly, 
 it appears to me that this clinches the mat- 
 ter. He is, beyond all question, in the last 
 stage of the disease ; so take a glass of 
 wine, Betsy, and we'll drink his health —
 
 FERKLEY MAXOR. 6J) 
 
 Joey Armstrong ! (raising another bumper 
 to his lips) and God bless him !" 
 
 I am quite sure that all sensible wives 
 will make allowances for the state- of wrath- 
 ful indignation which Mrs. Armstrong got 
 into at this stage of the domestic confer- 
 ence. It seems to me, that nothing could 
 be more moderate than the terms of severe 
 reproof in which she endeavoured to rouse 
 her sleepy lord to a sense of his paternal 
 duties ; and that she was perfectly justified 
 in calling him a '* most heartless and un- 
 natural father" — a "selfish, brutal husband,'' 
 and a " disgrace to the position he filled." 
 
 Having partly succeeded by these vio- 
 lent, but necessary measures, in recalling 
 his attention to the subject she wished to 
 discuss, Mrs. Armstrong again begged to 
 know what was to be done ; and the hus- 
 band, who (as I before hinted) was pretty 
 well accustomed to tlicse cabinet councils, 
 and desired, moreover, on the present oc- 
 casion, to cut the matter short, conside-
 
 70 FEENLEY MANOE. 
 
 rately suggested that his wife should be 
 guided by her own judgraent. 
 
 " Especially," he rather thoughtlessly 
 added, " as that's what you will be sure to 
 come to in the end." 
 
 The lady's indignant reply to this most 
 illiberal assertion I shall not detail at full 
 length. Perhaps Mr. Armstrong was not 
 to be entirely condemned in thinking it 
 might have been abridged with advantage, 
 as the pith of it was assuredly contained in 
 the last impressive sentence, viz., 
 
 " But now the whole matter lays in a 
 nutshell. If there is no objection to this 
 attachment (and as the girl will have ten 
 thousand pounds, I can see none myself) 
 we had better ask her to stay during Joe's 
 holidays. This will make him happy for 
 the present, and the future must take its 
 chance— Are we agreed, Mr. Armstrong ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly, my dear, certainl}^ — 
 and now do let me get my nap." 
 
 That same evening-Mrs. Armstrong gave
 
 FEKNLEY MANOR. 71 
 
 such a very pressing invitation to Edith to 
 prolong her stay, that the latter agreed to 
 write immediately to her father on the sub- 
 ject, The well pleased mother naturally 
 set down this ready acquiescence to her 
 son's account ; and the son himself, when 
 he heard of it, committed serious injuries 
 on his shirt collar, and consumed an in- 
 judicious quantity of jam tarts at supper.
 
 72 FERNLEY MANOK. 
 
 CHArTER VL 
 
 EDITHS VICTORY. 
 
 Passing over the month that Edith, with 
 her father's permisfc^ion, spent iu Harley 
 Street, I shall bring my reader at once to 
 the da}^ before the termination of her visit, 
 and the very morning that Joseph and his 
 friend were to return to Mr. Burkitt, and 
 the study of the dead and Kving languages. 
 Mrs. Armstrong and the sisters had 
 found so much to do in the way of packing 
 on this occasion, that Edith was left alone 
 in the drawing-room, for what seemed to
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 73 
 
 her an exceedingly weary time. Monsieur 
 de la Tour had gone out immediately after 
 breakfast, and Joseph was supposed to be 
 mourning in his own room. 
 
 Miss Lascelles, not being gifted with a 
 large stock of patience, and having essayed 
 in vain to go to sleep, at last opened the 
 piano and began trying over some English 
 songs that belonged to her cousin Louisa. 
 Finding one that pleased her, she sang it 
 .two or three times, quite unconscious that 
 the door had opened since she began and 
 admitted a most attentive listener. A deep, 
 genuine sigh made her start and turn round 
 suddenly. 
 
 '' Ah, mademoiselle^ continuez je vous en 
 prie — c'est pour la derniere fois!^ 
 
 " Pray how long have you been here, 
 Monsieur de la Tour \ believe me I had no 
 idea of wasting my singing on you." 
 
 " Speak not so Hghtly, I implore — In a 
 few hours we part — perhaps for ever — " 
 
 " You are in a sentimental mood this 
 morning, monsieur, so we had better part 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 FEPtNLEY MAXOR. 
 
 at once ; for I happen to be in a merry 
 
 one/^ 
 
 '^ Edith r 
 
 " Whom did you address V 
 
 " Toi^ tor, mon cceur^ mon dme — Edith, 
 Edith, que ce nom est douo! !" 
 
 Here Eugene advanced nearer to his 
 companion, and attempted to take her hand 
 Avhich was resting on the keys of the piano, 
 but shuddering, and with a look of disgust, 
 she drew it from him^ and rose hastily from 
 her seat. 
 
 " Monsieur de la Tour, you have lost 
 your senses — stand back, sir, and let me 
 pass/' 
 
 " True, true, I am mad — but you have 
 made me so. No, you must not go — it is 
 for the last time, and though your proud 
 looks should kill me, I will speak. You 
 have awakened passions in my nature that 
 will never sleep again ; you tried insult 
 and unkindness first, and when you thought 
 I had been tortured long enough, then you 
 smiled so softly, you spoke so gently, that
 
 FERNJiEY MANOR. 75 
 
 none with human feelings could have held 
 back his heart. But it needed not this 
 with me, — with me who worshipped you 
 from the very first. Edith, though you are 
 beautiful as an angel and fascinating as an 
 enchantress, you are but a woman still ; 
 and if you do not love me, you have played 
 a most cruel, heartless game." 
 
 (This had been said in French, but Edith 
 replied in her own language. 
 
 " 7/* I do not love you !" (acting to per- 
 fection the part she had planned.) " Really 
 Monsieur Eugene, the supposition exalts 
 your self esteem at too great an expense 
 to your penetration and common sense ; 
 but probably you are only putting my 
 simplicity to the test. Love you indeed ! 
 C^est un peu tro'p fort!^ 
 
 Eugene's sallow face lost the small 
 amount of colour it possessed, and his 
 broad, low forehead, contracted into a mass 
 of wrinkles. 
 
 " Then why have you smiled ujwn me 
 like an angel % why have you spoken so 
 E 2
 
 76 PERNLKY MANOR. 
 
 softly, sang to me, read with me, done all 
 that a woman can do to make herself be- 
 loved "? I will not believe, Edith, that you 
 are a vain coquette, for have I not seen 
 the admirable way in which you discouraged 
 the boyish passion of Joseph Armstrong, 
 depriving him of all presumptuous hopes, 
 yet keeping his love and reverence still. 
 Oh ! if you had no feeling in return, why 
 did vou not behave thus to me 1 I should 
 have understood you, even sooner than he 
 has done — then, whv, 1 ask, was he to be 
 treated with a kindness that has been denied 
 to me — why was I, the stranger in your 
 country, to be made your victim, yoursporf?" 
 " Your accusations," replied Edith, draw- 
 ing up her little figure, till, in spite of its 
 diminutive proportions, she looked quite 
 queenly. " Your accusations, Monsieur 
 Eugene, are too absurd to merit a reply, 
 and the love of a Frenchman is the last 
 thing in the world to excite compassion. 
 It seems that my former ill-treatment and 
 my latter kindness have both given you 
 pause of complaint. The fact is, the first
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 77 
 
 was the genuine expression of the feeHng 
 with which you inspired me, but as it is in 
 my disposition to be kind to somebody 
 and I saw that it would not do with my 
 cousin, I generously turned to lavish the 
 superabundant honey of my nature on you ; 
 hnowing beforehand that there could be no 
 danger in so doing" 
 
 " What do you mean ^ who told you that 
 Eugene de la Tour was strong enough 
 to resist the fascinations of Edith Lascelles." 
 
 " It was DO less a person than Monsieur 
 de la Tour himsolf/' said Edith, calmly, 
 and she repeated, word for word, of the 
 conversation she had overheard, enjoying 
 the shame and confusion of her companion, 
 in proportion to the mortification she had her- 
 self experienced. " And now,'' she added, in 
 conclusion, " I have given 7n?/ explanation, 
 I have exonerated myself from your 
 chargo of coquetry, and here this useless 
 discussion must end. I will not listen to 
 another word from you, for, though I for- 
 give you the insulting terms in which you 
 spoke of me, I can feel nothing but weari-
 
 78 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 ness and impatience in your society. 
 Monsieur de la Tour, I have the honour 
 of wishing you good morning.'^ 
 - '' One minute, only one, I intreat, 1 im- 
 plore — '" 
 
 But Edith passed him with a firm and 
 stately step, guessing little of the evil pas- 
 sions her present victory had roused. 
 
 " C^est d toi la premiere 7nanclie^ ma 
 princesse,^^ he muttered, as the door closed 
 on her, and the wrinkles cleared from his 
 forehead, as he added, w^ith an unpleasant 
 smile, " mats chacun d son tour" 
 
 Edith, who had found the task of 
 smiling on the dwarfish Frenchman a 
 much more disagreeable one than she had 
 pictured it in her mental vision of retalia- 
 tion, was really delighted that all was over, 
 and that she could now wear her laurels 
 (invisible though they were) without the 
 penance of gazing, day after day, at the 
 unshapely figure and uncomely face of her 
 devoted admirer. 
 
 Whether his love was likely to produce 
 only present disappointment and mortifica-
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 79 
 
 tion, or rankle into a wound that might 
 overspread his whole nature, she never 
 gave herself the trouble of considering. 
 Accustomed to excite general admiration, 
 and what, amongst the people with whom 
 she had dwelt, frequently amounted to 
 enthusiasm, Edith had never yet, to her 
 knowledge, inspired an abiding attach- 
 ment ; and having an exceedingly com- 
 fortable faith in her own powers, she in- 
 clined to the belief, that foreigners were 
 incapable of losing their hearts in earnest. 
 To be loved deeply and passionately, and 
 by a really worthy and high-minded indi- 
 vidual, was a wish she cherished tenderly, 
 and till the accoirplishment of which she 
 guarded as a sacred treasure her own 
 maiden affections, pleasing herself, in the 
 meantime, with the idea, that when she did 
 love, it would be something infinitely be- 
 yond the love of all other women— a pas- 
 sion made up of devotion, enthusiasm, and 
 every auxiliary to romance that could be 
 conceived b}'^ the most fertile imagination.
 
 80 FEBNLEY MANOR. 
 
 After all, she was but dreaming the 
 sweet dream of youth, and what mattered 
 it if her yisions were a little more exag- 
 gerated than those of her fellow beings. 
 Her slumber, at least, was more full of 
 gladness than theirs — before her sealed 
 eyelids passed more radiant forms ; the 
 fairies whispered in her ears softer, gentler 
 tales ; and though she must awake at 
 last, she would still have dear memories of 
 the dreaming time. And to all, however 
 light their sleep has been, the first unclos- 
 ing of the eyes is bitter. 
 
 Edith, having determined not to see 
 Eugene again, was proceeding somewhat 
 thoughtfully to her own room, when, in 
 passing the breakfast parlour, a sound, re- 
 sembling suppressed sobbing, fell upon her 
 ear, and, without a moment^s consideration, 
 she opened the door quickly, and walked 
 in. 
 
 The room was tenanted by two indivi- 
 duals, Mrs. Armstrong, and her son 
 Joseph. They were sitting close together
 
 FERXLEY MANOR. 81 
 
 at the top of the large square table, on 
 which stood a tray, amply supplied with 
 those delicacies, for which young people, 
 in their teens, are supposed to have a 
 passion. There was a very unbecoming 
 redness about the eyes of the gentleman, 
 which suggested the idea that the sobs 
 owed their origin to him, and a plate of 
 roly-poly-puddiug, that the lady was 
 evidently pressing upon his acceptance, 
 made it appear, probable, that she had 
 foro;otten the flio;ht of time, and was 
 endeavouring, as in his very juvenile days, 
 to heal his sorrows by the administration 
 of sweets. 
 
 At the sudden apparition of Edith, they 
 both started, and Joseph's cheeks became 
 rather redder than his eyes. 
 
 *' Oh, come in, my dear," said Mrs. 
 A rmstrong, with an evident attempt at a 
 welcome, but her looks expressed very 
 plainly, " you have done too much mischief 
 already, and may leave us alone now."* 
 E 5
 
 82 FEENLEY MAKOE. 
 
 Nevertheless, although Edith read these 
 looks at a glance, she accepted the invita- 
 tion, and seated herself by her younger 
 cousin. 
 
 " You must cheer up, Joseph," she said, 
 kindly, " for remember you are leaving 
 home for the last time, and at Christmas 
 you are to come with your .sisters to 
 Fernley, and stay as long as your mother 
 can spare you — indeed, it is quite true, for 
 I asked papa, and he has given his consent 
 ■ — you know, Mrs. Armstrong, he is not 
 fond of visitors in general, but you have 
 all been so kind to me, and I am such a 
 spoilt child, that there was no possibihty 
 of refusing me this request." 
 
 " Ah, my dear, it is a long time to 
 Christmas," said the mother, with a pro- 
 phetic sigh, " and Fernley is a long w^ay 
 fron London ; but w^here, I wonder, is 
 your friend, Monsieur Eugene. The- 
 carriage will be round before he has had 
 any luncheon."
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 8 3 
 
 " Don't bring hira hero just yet, mother," 
 said Joseph, imploringly — '* he would quiz 
 me for a month if he saw that — " 
 
 " Yes — 3^es, my darling, you are right — 
 I will go and find him, and order a tray 
 for him in the dining-room. Edith, I leave 
 you in my place — see if you can persuade 
 your cousin to eat something." 
 
 " Oh, I can't eat," said the poor boy, 
 when the door had closed on his anxious 
 parent. " Is it not odd that my mother 
 thinks tarts and puddings must make 
 amends for everything — don't you try to 
 force them on me, Edith. I could not 
 bear that." 
 
 " I will do nothing that you dislike, 
 Joseph," replied his cousin ; " but 1 
 cannot bear to see you look so dejected 
 and miserable. I think if you were to try 
 earnestly, you could summon a braver, 
 firmer spirit." 
 
 " Oh, you do not know all, Edith — you 
 fancy I am fretting like a baby at leaving 
 home — I am aware that — that I am XQvy
 
 81 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 backward in some things — and — and not 
 so clever as some people ; but for all that 
 I have got feelings, and — perhaps, I am 
 not quite such — such a boy as you seem to 
 imagine,'^ 
 
 Here he came to a full stop, and, leaning 
 his arms on the table, buried his crimson 
 face between them. 
 
 " As I imagine, Joseph," said Edith, 
 with the utmost gentleness, " my dear 
 cousin you are entirely mistaken — It is be- 
 cause I do not deem you ' such a boy ' that 
 I advise your struggHng with a despon- 
 dency that a man should be ashamed of ex- 
 hibiting — Come, cheer up, whatever may 
 be the cause of your sorrow — les beaiuv 
 jours reviendront" 
 
 Thus exhorted, Joseph raised his head, 
 and made a great effort to smile at his 
 gentle monitress — but like many other 
 great efforts it was met by signal failure, 
 for the corners of his mouth obstinately 
 persisted in turning down instead of up. 
 
 *' I can't help it,'' he faltered, despair-
 
 FERNLEY MAKOK. 85 
 
 ingly, " I know rra a foolish fellow, and 
 since youVe been here Tve never thought 
 anything else — don't laugh at me, Edith, 
 pray don't — I can't help it upon my 
 honour/' 
 
 " Joseph, you must think me a very 
 heartless person if you suppose such a 
 thing possible — Tell me what I can say or 
 do to comfort you." 
 
 " Nothing ! — how could you — you who 
 are so good and clever, and beautiful — (he 
 was now blushing again painfully) — but 
 yet if you would do something, I — dear 
 Edith, it would, I mean, make me a good 
 deal happier." 
 
 " What is it V 
 
 " Don't be angry with me then if you 
 can't do it, but if you would just give me 
 one little bit of your hair, no one should 
 ever see it ; and it would be such a great, 
 great comfort to me — " 
 
 This was said exceedingly fast and 
 nervously, but the pleading, boyish look 
 that accompanied it, was too much for the
 
 86 FERNLEY MAKOE. 
 
 tender heart of Edith to resist. She walked 
 quickly to Mrs. Armstrong's work-table, 
 and taking up a pair of scissors unrolled 
 the thick knot of hair that was gathered at 
 the back of her small head, and cut off a 
 long, shining mass which the love-sick 
 Joseph seized upon and gazed at as 
 rapturously as if all the fairies' gifts were 
 contained therein. 
 
 " Keep it for your cousin's sake, Joseph/' 
 Edith said, as she arranged her disordered 
 tresses before the glass, " and mind if I 
 ask you to produce it ten, twenty, or even 
 thirty years hence, I shall expect you to 
 do so — for you are the first person to w hom 
 I have ever given my hair ; and it must be 
 appreciated accordingly." 
 
 She turned round in time to see the look 
 of radiant happiness that was beaming on 
 Joseph's face, and to hear footsteps ap- 
 proaching the room. 
 
 " Good bye now ; your mother is coming, 
 and she will want to have you to herself at 
 the last — Put nway the hair quickly, and
 
 PETJNLEY MANOK. 87 
 
 don't let your French friend see it — God 
 bless you, Joseph, — we shall meet again at 
 Christmas '^ 
 
 As she held out her hand a sudden pale- 
 ness came over the young man's face. He 
 had feelings, as he said, and he was parting 
 with his first love — he felt that his passion 
 was, and must ever be, unrequited, but 
 he had accustomed himself to this thought, 
 and learned to derive pleasure from the 
 simple presence of the object beloved. To 
 lose this, even for a time, was an exceed- 
 ingly hard trial, and for a moment he 
 fancied that the pulses of his heart were 
 standino' still. But the warm touch of the 
 little hand that was laid in his own, re- 
 called him to himself, and pressing it with 
 a sort of despairing fervour he muttered a 
 few words that were perfectly unintelligible, 
 and then suffered Edith to dcpai't, with a 
 quietness that was almost touching. 
 
 Whether Mrs. Armstrong succeeded 
 after this in inducing her son to swallow
 
 88 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 any of his favourite roly-poly, history has 
 not recorded — but from what I know of 
 human nature I should be inclined to 
 give as an opinion, that the pudding and 
 other delicacies returned untasted to the 
 kitchen. 
 
 ;
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 89 
 
 CllAPTEK YII. 
 
 MAJOR LASCELTiES. 
 
 The next day Edith joined her father and 
 sister, who had been staying at a hotel in 
 London ; and another week saw them all 
 established in their new home at Fernley. 
 " You like it, Edith," said Margaret, 
 on the evening of their arrival, when^^the 
 two girls, having made the tour of the 
 house, were standing side by side on the 
 broad terrace, overlooking one of the most 
 charming prospects in England. "' I see 
 by your face that you are nearly as much 
 pleased with Fernley Manor as I was, and
 
 90 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 you would have been quite, had 3^ou seen 
 it when I did, at the very beginning of 
 Autumn, instead of towards the end — but 
 I am satisfied with your admiration, and 
 papa will be enchanted." 
 
 " Margaret," replied Edith, passing her 
 arm round her sister's waist, " if all England 
 resembled Fernley, and if all English people 
 resembled my present companion, I should 
 mourn no more for our bright Italian skies 
 — I do indeed like this, and should rather 
 live here for ever, with no society save that 
 of my good and gentle sister, than in 
 Harley Street with all the w^orld around 
 me." 
 
 " I am so glad you are pleased, dear 
 Edith, but you must not overrate the de- 
 lights of a country life," Margaret said 
 anxiously. " I know that, to you, Fernley 
 will often seem the very abode of loneliness 
 and ennui — for however much we may 
 admire nature, there will come moments 
 when the heart aches for something more, 
 and when we feel inclined to dare all things
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 91 
 
 for the sake of obtaining this dimly seen 
 and mist enshrouded object of our craving. 
 Solitude nurses the romance of the heart, 
 Edith, and though it undoubtedly refines 
 and purifies the mind, it very rarely 
 strengthens it. You will be happy here in 
 your own way, but the feelings that enable 
 you to be so, are not the healthiest you 
 could cherish. Had I chosen your destiny, 
 it should have been in the midst of a bust- 
 ling, matter-of-fact world, where you would 
 have to act instead of to think, to do in- 
 stead of to dream." 
 
 " Dear Margaret," said Edith, (who like 
 most of her sex had no objection to hear 
 even her weaknesses discussed with such 
 affectionate interest,) " dear Margaret, you 
 moralize so sweetly that I forget the words 
 of the song in listening to the singer ; but 
 it strikes me that you must have passed a 
 a considerable portion of your ov^^n time in 
 this dangerous trade of thinking, or how 
 else have you gained all the rare wisdom I 
 am quite sure you possess — "
 
 92 PERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " Experience, Edith, is a strangely clever 
 teacher, and early sorrow is another. I 
 have studied under both — but let us talk 
 rather of the future than the past. We will 
 have bright hopes, instead of sad memories 
 for our banquet to-night." 
 
 Half an hour after, the sisters left the 
 terrace, and joined their father in the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 I have hitherto given you but a very 
 faint outline of Major Lascelles, but the 
 time has now arrived for you to form a 
 more intimate acquaintance with his char- 
 acter, and I must beg you therefore to ac- 
 company Margaret and Edith to his 
 presence, and recommend you to pay par- 
 ticular attention to all he says, as he is a 
 man of few words, and never speaks with- 
 out mature deliberation. When his daughters 
 entered the room he was sitting by a large 
 lire (although the evening was decidedly 
 sultry for the time of year,) reading some 
 letters that he had found awaiting his ar- 
 rival.
 
 FRRNLEY MANOR. 93 
 
 '' Dear papa, it is a lovely place," ex- 
 claimed Edith, dragging an easy chair as 
 far as possible from the fire. " I am not 
 the least disappointed." 
 
 At the first sound of his youngest daugh- 
 ter's voice Major Lascelles raised his eyes 
 from his newspaper, and kept them fixed 
 on her face while she was speaking. This 
 was '^his invariable custom, and as Edith 
 presumed to think it a very unnecessary 
 and foolish one, she rarely held long conver- 
 sations with her father. 
 
 " I am particularly pleased to hear you 
 say so, Edith," he replied slowly, and still 
 looking at her earnestly. " Margaret pro- 
 mises to do all in her power to atone to 
 you for the absence of society ; and what- 
 ever you require in the way of books or 
 music or drawing, remember my purse is 
 entirely at your command. Amuse your- 
 self in any manner you like, only be happy, 
 and cheerful, and never let me see your 
 cheek paler or your eye less bright than- it
 
 94 FEPvNLEY MANOR. 
 
 is at present. Margaret, let us have some 
 tea now." 
 
 As the major spoke no more that evening, 
 till it was time to wish his daughters good- 
 night, I shall take this opportunity of 
 explaining a few of his peculiarities. 
 
 That he married a beautiful young wife, 
 who left him in a mysterious manner about 
 a twelvemonth after, you already know, 
 but you have yet to learn the effect pro- 
 duced on him by this rather singular event ; 
 an effect which was a secret to all in 
 England, except his daughter Margaret, 
 who was a girl of fourteen years old when 
 her father's domestic calamity occurred. 
 
 Major Lascelles had been, in his younger 
 days, a very proud and a very sensitive 
 man, with a strong tincture of romance in 
 bis character, unsupported by the least 
 moral firmness or self-rehance. His first 
 marriage had been brought about by his 
 family — the second was (on his side at 
 least (purely a love match ; although per- 
 petrated at the mature age of forty- five.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 95 
 
 But the major's heart had not kept pace 
 with his 3^ears, and Emily Brereton, a beau- 
 tiful, high-spirited creature, became first 
 the idol of his imagination, and then the 
 cherished darling of his solitary home. A 
 few months of dreamy happiness was all, 
 however, that fate permitted him — for, tco 
 soon, he discovered that the bright star of 
 his existence (as he had fondly deemed her) 
 bore a much closer resemblance to a fiery 
 comet — bringing in its brilliant train, de- 
 solation, warfare, and misfortune — in a 
 word, the fair Emily had an evil spirit 
 within, that neither allowed rest to its pos- 
 sessor, nor to any with whom she came in 
 contact. The death of his youngest daugh- 
 ter opened the husband's eyes in the first 
 instance to the fearful plague spot that was 
 tainting his wife's nature. She began by 
 murmuring loudly at the confinement en- 
 tailed upon her during the season of neces- 
 sary mourning ; and when the aggrieved 
 father ventured gently to remonstrate 
 against this cruel impatience, those passions,
 
 96 TERNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 SO long suppressed, burst forth with terri- 
 ble violence ; and the husband saw his idol 
 stripped of its silver veil, which no romance 
 or sophistry could ever after replace. From 
 this time, all was discord and unhappiness 
 till the birth of Edith — whose advent, by 
 supplying the mother with a novel inter- 
 est, brought a temporary lull to the storm- 
 shaken house ; but the claims of society 
 soon became paramount with the vain 
 mother, to those of her infant daughter, 
 — and intense love of admiration sent her 
 forth into the world again, in search of that 
 food which she would not live without. 
 Major Lascelles, naturally of a jealous dis- 
 position, became nearly maddened by his 
 wdfe's levity ; and when, after one of those 
 fearful scenes of passion which were now 
 of nearly daily occurrence, the beautiful 
 Emily suddenly disappeared — he, like the 
 rest of the world, hesitated not to put the 
 worst construction on her flight. It was 
 true that none of her male acquaintances 
 were lost sight of at the same time, and
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 97 
 
 her greatest enemies could not accuse her 
 of ever having distinguished one above the 
 other — still she was gone — and who could 
 believe, for one moment, that such a wo- 
 man would go alone 1 
 
 The first shock (wdiich the husband had, 
 to all appearance, borne manfullj^), being 
 over, he sent for his eldest daughter from 
 school, and made preparations for leav- 
 ing Englatid with the infant Edith and her 
 nurse. 
 
 Margaret, wdio had a clear intellect, and 
 a firm, though gentle, mind, became first 
 her father's confidante, and finally, his sup- 
 port and guide — for, from the period when 
 she joined him, and took upon herself the 
 duties of a grown up daughter, he suffered 
 liis spirits and his energies to decline, so 
 that, by the time they arrived at their 
 chosen resting place, he was in a state but 
 one degree removed from insanity. It is not 
 my purpose to dwell here on the bitter suf- 
 ferings of the lonely girl, thus placed in a 
 situation of so much difficulty and respon- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 sibility. It will suffice to tell that she 
 braved them all — devoting herself to the 
 care of her afflicted father and infant sister, 
 with a heroism and judgment almost unex- 
 ampled. 
 
 At length the constant change of scene 
 and climate, assisted by time and ceaseless 
 watchfulness, restored Major Lascelles to 
 comparative mental health, and, as Edith 
 grew towards girlhood, his dormant facul- 
 ties seemed to expand and strengthen, that 
 they might concentrate themselves upon 
 this new claimant for his love and paternal 
 care. In Edith he appeared to breathe a 
 new life, for her he could once more plan 
 and act ; towards her his hitherto scattered 
 thoughts were always directed, and with- 
 out that demonstrative tenderness which 
 generally wins a corresponding amount of 
 afiection, it was plain to see that Major 
 Lascelles loved his young and gifted 
 daughter with more than ordinary de- 
 Totion. 
 
 But either some remaining weakness of
 
 FERKLEY MANOR. 99 
 
 intellect, or Edith's striking resemblance to 
 her mother, caused him constantly to gaze 
 at her with an undefined but painful dread 
 of her suddenly leaving him as the other 
 had done. Hence the strange habit he 
 had contracted of fixing his eyes on her 
 whenever she spoke, and the anxiety he 
 manifested on all occasions that she should 
 have every wish attended to, and be ren- 
 dered happy at any sacrifice. That she 
 had inherited her mother's love of admi- 
 ration, he frequently suspected, and this 
 was one of his chief reasons for returning 
 to England, where he thought this danger- 
 ous passion would have less to nourish it 
 than in the lands of poetry and romance. 
 For my own part I believe that vanity will 
 in all places find enough to exist and 
 fatten upon, and that where food is scarce 
 it will devour eagerly any coarse or in- 
 ferior compound that comes in its way. 
 But Major Lascelles was not much accus- 
 tomed to analyze human nature, and like a 
 prudent father he did what he imagined 
 F 3
 
 100 FEENLEY MANOK. 
 
 was best. Margaret, who had a clearer 
 head, and scarcely less deep affection for 
 Edith, might have recommended different 
 plans, had she been consulted — but she 
 was not consulted, and therefore it only 
 remained for her to hope all things, and to 
 resolve on diligent watchfulness of her 
 young and singularly attractive sister.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. J 01 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FRRNLEY. 
 
 The first month at Fernley Manor passed 
 away delightfully. The weather was 
 charming, and Edith amused herself in 
 wandering about the country, taking rough 
 sketches of the scenery (which Margaret 
 always had to finish,) and learning the gos- 
 sip of the village, where she managed to 
 become a favourite, by occasionally show- 
 ing her pretty face for a moment at the 
 cottage doors, and throwing trifling sums 
 of money amongst the children who were 
 playing in the streets. Any plan of
 
 102 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 rational charity never entered her head, 
 but there was a sort of gratification in being 
 popular even with these poor people, and 
 in so quiet a place what else was there to 
 fill her thoughts. 
 
 I will not undertake to declare that 
 Edith never dreamt of the possibility of 
 meeting some romantic adventure in her 
 promiscuous rambles, but however that 
 might be, she certainly never did, Fernlcy 
 boasting of no interesting curates, and 
 sheltering in its quiet bosom no embryo 
 Byrons, nor heroes of any kind whatever. 
 The sisters attended regularly at the village 
 church (where a very old man officiated), 
 and they were, with the exception of two 
 maiden ladies, and a bachelor brother, the 
 only individuals not belonging to the work- 
 ing class, who met beneath that humble 
 temple of their Maker. 
 
 All this, as I have hinted, did very well 
 indeed for the first month, but after that a 
 rainy season set in ; and Margaret's pre- 
 dictions were fulfilled.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 103 
 
 *' I shall die if this continues much 
 longer ;" Edith said to her one day, tear- 
 ing up impatiently the last sketch she had 
 taken, and folding her hands with a look 
 of despair. " I declare I should welcome 
 the appearance of poor, silly Joseph Arm- 
 strong as a relief from this terrible mono- 
 tony — something at least to laugh at.'' 
 
 Margaret forbore to remind her of what 
 she had said the night of their arrival ; she 
 only replied, quietly — 
 
 '' Dear Edith, you have destroyed my 
 favourite rustic bridge, and we cannot get 
 another sketch of it before next summer." 
 
 " Oh, who cares for a rustic bridge with 
 nobody ever crossing it V exclaimed Edith, 
 petulantly. "It is always a tantalizing 
 object to me, that bridge of yours, Margey, 
 and I really don't see what there is in it to 
 admire so extravagantly." 
 
 " It is exquisitely picturesque, Edith, 
 and I think I have heard you rave about it 
 too." 
 
 *' Just at first perhaps, but lately, since
 
 104 FERNLEY MAKOE. 
 
 the sun has ceased to shine there, it has 
 always inspired me with the most gloomy 
 feehngs. There is something so fearful and 
 dismal in the look of that dark dell beyond, 
 that I could fancy it led to the caves of 
 eternal despair — " 
 
 " Instead of to Sir Stuart Bernarde's 
 hunting lodge — Upon my word, Edith, 
 your imaginings cannot be called lively 
 ones. When the long days come again we 
 must undertake a pilgrimage to this famous 
 heather lodge, for the purpose of dispelling 
 your treasonable fancies. They tell me it 
 is not more than a mile and a half from the 
 bridge, and that the whole way through 
 the valley is perfectly enchanting." 
 
 " By the bye, Margaret," said Edith, 
 suddenly, " I heard yesterday that those 
 dear old ladies we see every Sunday at 
 church wdth their equally ancient brother, 
 are distant relatives of this Sir Stuart 
 Bernardo — the house they live iu belongs 
 to him ; and their name is Cargill." 
 
 " Indeed !" Margaret repHed, without
 
 FERIJSEY MANOR. 105 
 
 any great appearance of interest. " You 
 are becoming quite a news-monger, dear 
 Edith.'' 
 
 " And no wonder," said the other, " 1 
 feel my mind contracting day by day — a 
 Httle more, and there will only be one 
 narrow window remaining, through which 
 I shall see objects as the people around me 
 see them ; and cease to remember perhaps 
 that T ever possessed a more enlarged 
 vision — Oh, Margey, I do wish the world 
 we live in, were a few degrees less common 
 place." 
 
 " The old mistake, Edith — we fritter 
 away our time in trifles, we neglect oppor- 
 tunities of exalting our own feelings, and 
 then we rail against life, and call the world 
 common-place. Believe me, it is only so to 
 those who take no pains to render it other- 
 wise. The poor man toiling for his daily 
 bread, the w^orkwoman sitting hour after 
 hour at her solitary needle, the tradesman 
 surrounded with all the noise and bustle of 
 F 5
 
 106 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 his calling, may have that within Avhich 
 makes your common-place world beautiful. 
 Dear Edith, you confound the shadow with 
 the substance. Refinement, sentiment, 
 poetry, are to you the sparkling bubbles 
 that rise on life's surface, but it is in the 
 deep, even current which runs beneath, that 
 you must look for the priceless gems, whose 
 value no man can reckon.'' 
 
 "Well, well, Margaret, you know I always 
 decline entering into argument with you, 
 for I am really as firndy persuaded of your 
 superior wisdom as I am of my own pre- 
 sent distaste for all sublunary things. 
 There can of course be no doubt that a 
 species of refinement and romance may 
 exist occasionally, amongst the sort of 
 people we are accustomed to consider 
 vulgar ; but then it must be altogether 
 different from what we feel, and the one 
 would not do after the other." 
 
 " You mean, I suppose, that were it your 
 fate to be transformed into a poor, working
 
 FERNLEY MANOR, 107 
 
 girl, you could not extract any poetry from 
 such an existence ; you could not, in short, 
 be happy, or raise yourself above the 
 common -place people by whom you would 
 be surrounded." 
 
 " I don't know. The case you have put 
 seems to me less difficult, than one which 
 suggests itself to my mind. For instance, 
 I can imagine nothing more fearful than 
 becoming the wife of an intensely matter- 
 of-fact person, one who would be incapable 
 of understanding a single feeling above 
 the common standard. Picture my ideal, 
 Margey — a stout, rosy-cheeked, good- 
 tempered, large handed, broad-footed 
 Englishman, fond of high-living, swearing 
 by roast beef and port wine, wearing a 
 very short waistcoat, and a very long coat, 
 callinoj poetry of cYerj denomination 
 ' humbug,' looking at the finest scenery 
 only in an agricultural point of view, hating 
 all things and all people that are not purely 
 British, and cherishing (as the only bit of
 
 108 ' FERNLEY 3IAN0R. 
 
 superstition in his nature) the fixed idea 
 that Napoleon Bonaparte was the arch 
 fiend himself, let loose for a given 
 season/^ 
 
 Margaret smiled at this sketch, and asked 
 Edith whether she had ever seen the 
 ori2:inal of it. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Armstrong might have sat 
 for it ; his son Joseph may sit for it twenty 
 years hence ; half the men one sees in 
 London would be recognized from it." 
 
 " A nd with such a person you believe it 
 would be impossible for you to be happy 1 
 Well, dear Edith, with your present feelings 
 I am inclined to entertain a similar opinion ; 
 but now try if you can describe the sort of 
 man you should like above all others — the 
 one who could satisfy every demand of 
 your somewhat ewigeanfe heart." 
 
 Edith mused a little while before she 
 replied. 
 
 " Behold him then, Margaret ; in person 
 he must be the reverse of my brave Anrjlais^,
 
 rERNLEY MANOR. 109 
 
 that is to say, with a figure rather tall and 
 slight, a complexion pale rather than rosy, 
 dark, of course, — I scarcely care to what 
 degree which stops short of the mulatto — 
 features noble and intellectual without being 
 decidedly handsome. Then for his mind, 
 he must have in the first place a highly 
 cultivated one, none of your narrow English 
 prejudices, none of your canting, bigotted, 
 party views — all this I utterly despise. He 
 must be highly imaginative, with a deep 
 veneration for all that is really worthy of 
 admiration and respect, and a lofty con- 
 tempt for everything that breathes of 
 littleness and vulgarity. He must love 
 poetry and nature as I love it ; and finally, 
 he must beheve, as I believe, that the 
 world does not contain so wise, so good, 
 so dear a creature as my darling sister 
 Margey." 
 
 Edith had talked herself into the best 
 of humours, and was now all affection and 
 animation. Margaret returned with equal
 
 110 FERNLEY MAKOK. 
 
 warmth, the embrace that accompanied 
 her concluding compliment, and then re- 
 sumed the subject. 
 
 **But, my dear Edith, it appears singu- 
 lar to me that you have quite overlooked, 
 in both your descriptions, real, genuine 
 worth, principle, religion, benevolence, and 
 such like qualities, which, believe me, 
 would go much farther in ensuring your 
 happiness as a wife, than all the fine intel- 
 lect and imagination in the world. You 
 will wonder, perhaps, when I tell you, that 
 your first character, combined with simple 
 worthiness, would interest me far more 
 than your last." 
 
 " But if the last possessed (as, of course, 
 I meant him to do) not only simple 
 worthiness, but the most exalted virtues — 
 which then would you fall in love with, 
 my Margey V 
 
 " I don't think 1 should fall in love with 
 either, Edith ; but I would still adhere to 
 ray first choice, as your hero of the dark
 
 FERITLEY MAKOE. Ill 
 
 hair and exalted virtues, would have so 
 many admirers, that he could well spare 
 one to his simple and despised rival. By 
 the bye, on what nation would you confer 
 the honour of giving birth to this 
 prodigy V 
 
 " Oh, you are laughing at me," said 
 Edith, in rather an offended tone ; " but, 
 I don^t mind. My hero, as you choose to 
 call him, must be a Briton, of course ; 
 whether English, Scotch, or Irish, I should 
 not much care." 
 
 ** What if Sir Stuart Bernardo realises 
 your picture," said Margaret, willing, for 
 once, to indulge her young sister's taste for 
 this sort of idle gossipping. 
 
 Edith's cheek grew crimson. 
 
 " Oh, what nonsense, Margey — it is not 
 likely I shall ever see him ; besides, 
 Scotchmen are generally fair ; and rest as- 
 sured, a yellow- haired laddie, however, 
 bonnie, would never do for me — pooh, 
 pooh, let us talk of something else."
 
 112 FERNLEY MANOK. 
 
 This unlucky suggestion of Margaret's 
 made Edith resolve to defer, till a future 
 occasion, the communication of her fixed 
 intention of " striking up an acquaintance,'^ 
 by hook or by crook, with the Misses 
 Cargill and their brother.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 113 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE NEIGHBOURS. 
 
 It was not very long, however, before an 
 opportunity for this disclosure presented 
 itself, and Margaret, who saw, with pain 
 and regret, the daily increasing langour 
 and discontent of her sister, offered no op- 
 position to what she considered a simple 
 wish, on Edith's part, to vary, in some 
 shght degree, the extreme monotony of 
 her present life.
 
 114 PERNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 " But how do you intend to accomplish 
 an introduction, my dear 1 for, you know, 
 if they had been desirous of making our 
 acquaintance, they would have called when 
 we first came here. You have really uo 
 excuse for paying a formal visit/' 
 
 " Besides, that would be so terribly 
 commonplace, Margaret. Oh, I shall 
 think of the ways and means, depend upon 
 it ; nor need you fear that I shall do any- 
 thing to disgrace either papa or yourself 
 Believe me, I am as much interested in 
 the dignity of Fernley Manor as the rest of 
 
 you." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, Edith — only I should 
 be sorry that you intruded upon these good 
 old ladies, if they have a particular fancy 
 for not knowing their neighbours." 
 
 " Margaret, you may trust to my judg- 
 ment and discretion. They always smile 
 so kindly at me when I pass their pew at 
 church — the dear old things ! that I am
 
 FBRNLEY MANOR. 115 
 
 sure they will rather welcome my advances 
 than otherwise." 
 
 " Very well, dear, then do what you like 
 about it. They may, perchance, keep your 
 mind from actual starvation till the arrival 
 of the Armstrongs at Christmas." 
 
 The day following this discussion, the 
 sun made its appearance, for a few minutes, 
 and Edith, hastily equipping herself, set 
 forth, with heightened spirits, in the di- 
 rection of the village, fully resolved not to 
 return till she had advanced, at least, one 
 step towards the intimacy she had taken 
 such a sudden fancy to form. 
 
 The cottage, inhabited by the old ladies, 
 was situated at the further extremity of 
 Fernley. A pretty place it was in summer, 
 with its low, thatched roof, its green por- 
 tico, and its three tall cedar trees, stand- 
 ing, side by side, on the mimic lawn — but 
 now its outward aspect was dreary and 
 saddening enough : and Edith, having ar-
 
 116 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 rived at the neat iron railings, stood still, 
 for a few minutes, wondering how the old 
 people, with no society but their own, 
 managed to get through the long winter 
 days, which were so inexpressibly tedious 
 to her. 
 
 While she remained there, hesitating in 
 what way to make the first step, (for, 
 with all her ingenuity, she had not yet hit 
 upon any plan that seemed to her suffici- 
 ently out of the common,) the house door 
 suddenly opened, and Mr. Cargill, (the 
 perfect picture of a precise old bachelor,) 
 came slowly across the narrow lawn. 
 
 Edith, when she walked out alone, was 
 nearly always accompanied by a large New- 
 foundland dog, to which she was much 
 attached, and who followed and obeyed 
 his young mistress witlT a zeal and quick- 
 ness of perception rarely seen even 
 amongst this sagacious and noble breed of 
 animals. She had brought him, on the 
 present occasion, not without a hope that
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 117 
 
 lie might be found a useful agent in her 
 plans ; and seeing poor Mr. Cargill come 
 out alone, an idea suggested itself to her 
 mind, which, without consideration, she im- 
 mediately acted upon. 
 
 " Nero, Nero, at him, Nero, stop him ; 
 but gently, gently, Nero." 
 
 And the dog, with a loud bark, sprang 
 at the astonished gentleman, just as he 
 was passing out of his own gate, and held 
 him tightly by the skirts of his long, old- 
 fashioned coat. 
 
 " Oh, oh !" screamed the unfortunate 
 bachelor, endeavouring vainly to shake off 
 the huge animal, and turning as pale as 
 death. " Oh, dear, he will bite me — he is 
 mad. Madam, madam," in a louder voice 
 to Edith, who had, of course, walked on, 
 pretending ignorance of the scene, " could 
 you, would you call of this ferocious 
 
 dog r 
 
 Edith, thus appealed to, walked back 
 hastily to the spot ; and feigning great
 
 118 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 concern, (she was an accomplished little 
 hypocrite, you see,) spoke in an authorita- 
 tive tone to Nero, who immediately re- 
 leased his prisoner, and returned quietly to 
 the side of his mistress. 
 
 By this time, the screams of their 
 brother had brought out the two sisters 
 in a state of the most nervous agitation, 
 and Edith took upon herself to explain the 
 occurrence, apologising, in the most charm- 
 ing and graceful manner, for the alarm 
 Mr. Cargill had sustained, and blaming her 
 own stupidity in not stopping the moment 
 Nero began to bark. 
 
 " Oh, don't say another word, my dear 
 young lady,^' exclaimed Miss Cargill. " No 
 one could blame you lor an instant. Poor, 
 dear Simeon has such a particular horror 
 of dogs, that he scarcely ever enjoys a 
 walk on this account. When he was a 
 little boy — but, dear me ! it is beginning 
 to rain, and we are keeping you standing 
 in the cold. Do favour us, Miss Lascelles,
 
 FEENLEY MANOB. 119 
 
 by stepping in till the shower is over. And, 
 Simeon dear, you must not think of going 
 to the post till you have taken a taste of 
 brandy ; I never saw you look so white 
 before. Come, we will all go in ; and your 
 favourite, Miss Lascelles, can lie on the 
 large mat under the portico." 
 
 I am afraid to say how little Edith's 
 conscience reproached her for all the un- 
 necessary alarm and confusion she had been 
 the means of creating ; but the truth is, 
 she was too well satisfied with the result of 
 her mischievous experiment, to think much 
 of anything else, though she did, on enter- 
 ing the house, entreat Mr. Cargill in the 
 most earnest manner, not to decline liis sis- 
 ter's offer of a glass of brandy. 
 
 "You are too good, madam — too consi- 
 derate,'' said the poor old gentleman, still 
 trembling from the cruel fright. " I must 
 have appeared to you in the light of a very 
 despicable coward ; but my sisters will ex- 
 plain to you the origin of my excessive
 
 120 FER-N^LEY MANOR. 
 
 nervousness on the subject of dogs. Per- 
 mit me now to retire, as I am not fit com- 
 pany for anybody/^ 
 
 Edith's pretty face expressed the exact 
 amount of concern called for by the occa- 
 sion ; and, as the door closed on Mr. Car- 
 gill, she turned to his sisters and said, in 
 her very sweetest voice, 
 
 " My dear ladies, I feel assured that I 
 must evermore be an object of detestation 
 to you all — and I have been so anxious to 
 become friendly with you." 
 
 Of course, this first assertion was vehe- 
 mently protested against ; and then fol- 
 lowed the story of the dog — a touching 
 reminiscence of Simeon Cargill's younger 
 days — which I do not think sufficiently in- 
 teresting or important, to lay before my 
 readers. It will content you to know that 
 Edith listened very attentively — and, at its 
 conclusion, expressed her firm conviction 
 that it was quite enough to make the great- 
 est hero that ever lived, exist in bodily fear 
 of the whole canine species.
 
 FEENLEY MAKOR. 121 
 
 By this time, the second Miss Cargill 
 had placed on the table wine and biscuits, 
 — of which the young guest was pressingly 
 urged to partake ; and Edith, long before 
 the shower was over, found herself rapidly 
 advancing in the good graces of the kind 
 and simple-minded old ladies. 
 
 " And now," she said, rising at last, as a 
 gleam of sunshine stole into the little 
 parlour, "I must really wish you good 
 morning — and tell you again how much I 
 feel your kindness. I shall call in a day 
 or two, if you will allow me, to enquire 
 after your brother, and bring you some 
 sketches of Italian scenery. It will be 
 such a treat to me to come and chat with 
 you now and then." 
 
 When Edith really wished and tried to 
 please, there was something irresistible in 
 her manner — a sweetness, a gracefulness, 
 a winning art, that acted like a charm on 
 all who came within its influence. It was 
 not often that she chose to exert this fasci- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 na,ting power ; but when she did, the effect 
 w^as invariably the same ; and none, from 
 a little child to the coldest and most 
 w^orldly person, was ever known to re- 
 sist it. 
 
 I have seen this sort of mental magic 
 practised by two or three besides Edith 
 Lascelles ; and I could, if I chose, (having 
 analysed it closely) let you partly into the 
 secret — but, as I disapprove of every sort 
 of magic, it would be quite against my 
 principles to teach it ; and I would rather 
 recommend you to study the Christian 
 graces of Love and Charity, which will 
 be sure to wdn you affection and admi- 
 ration at last, though, not always, per- 
 chance, so quickly, as Edith won the tender 
 hearts of the two old ladies at Fernley 
 cottage — for their parting words were, 
 
 " Then, you really promise to come and 
 take your tea w^th us the day after to- 
 morrow 1 It will be quite ^ jete for us in 
 our quiet way — and my dear young lady
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 123 
 
 never fancy that Simeon will regret his 
 little fright again, since it has been the 
 means of introducing us to such a very 
 charming neighbour/' 
 
 o
 
 124 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 AN EVENING AT FERNLEY COTTAGE. 
 
 Major Lascelles looked rather grave 
 when Edith told hira about her new ac- 
 quaintances, and the invitation she had re- 
 ceived from them. He thought it a strange 
 proceeding altogether — particularly as he 
 had given out that he intended to check 
 any approach to intimacy on the part of 
 his country neighbours. 
 
 " They must be vulgar-minded, presum-
 
 FERN LEY MANOR. 125 
 
 ing people — and quite unfit to associate 
 with his daughter." 
 
 '* Indeed, papa, they are charming ;" 
 said Edith, pleadingly ; " and I think their 
 inviting me in such a friendly way, without 
 a previous interchange of visits (which is 
 generally deemed indispensable with our 
 stiff-necked country people), is a proof of 
 kindness, rather than presumption — be- 
 sides, papa, I have set my heart on 
 going to see them — you know I have not 
 many amusements here ; one can't read 
 or sing, or draw, all day long. And the 
 Cargills never go out themselves — so they 
 won't annoy you in any way." 
 
 She had very little trouble about the 
 matter ; her father, lacking moral cou- 
 rage to refuse the least request on which 
 Edith said she had set her heart; but the 
 present fancy, as far as it could be seen 
 through, was certainly extremely inno- 
 cent ; and no one could reasonably blame 
 the Major, if mischief came of it hei*e- 
 after.
 
 126 FERNLEY MAITOR. 
 
 Margaret thought the whole affair too 
 unimportant to meddle with, and rather 
 rejoiced than otherwise, at the new pros- 
 pect of interest the acquaintance might 
 open to her sister. 
 
 So on the appointed evening, Edith, 
 accompanied by an old, grey-headed 
 servant as an escort, set forth for Fernley 
 Cottage, in one of her sunniest moods, and 
 with the intention of making herself as 
 amiable as she possibly could. 
 
 The old ladies having named an early 
 hour for taking tea, it was not qnite dark 
 when their young guest arrived, and as 
 Edith walked up to the door, she saw, 
 through the parlour window, the whole 
 party assembled round a blazing fire, 
 eagerly devouring the contents of a 
 letter, which the brother appeared to be 
 reading aloud. It was quite a picture — 
 the eager looks of the two spinsters, as 
 they bent forward in their chairs with 
 half-open mouths, and evidently delighted 
 faces — the gentleman's erect figure, and
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 127 
 
 complacently nodding head — and finally, 
 the large tabby cat, just roused from its 
 slumbers on the hearth-rug, staring from 
 one to the other of its usually quiet 
 owners, as if asking the meaning of this 
 very unusual excitement. 
 
 Edith was, at least, as much surprised, 
 and mystified as the cat, for she had 
 somehow come to the conclusion, that these 
 worthy people were far beyond the age of 
 ordinary hopes and fears, and believed, I 
 fancy, almost, that no event could happen 
 to them of more interest or importance 
 than her own first visit. She was a little 
 annoyed, for the moment, at the idea of 
 their minds being pre- occupied, and thus 
 less free to receive the lively impression 
 she had fully prepared herself to create — 
 but the kind, smiling faces that greeted 
 her entrance, banished all such unworthy 
 thoughts, and she sat down amongst her 
 new friends, ready and anxious to sympa- 
 thise with the glad tidings they were 
 evidently dying to communicate.
 
 128 FEENLEY MAKOR. 
 
 Edith, however, had many enquiries to 
 make, respecting Nero's yictim, and the 
 old gentleman, unused to the expression 
 of so much interest from young and rosy 
 lips, would have waited, with a great deal 
 of laudable patience, for a convenient 
 opportunity of alluding to the exciting 
 letter, had his sisters been equally 
 disinterested. But this was not to be 
 expected, considering what a rare thing 
 news of any kind had become to the quiet 
 dwellers of the cottage ; so Eliza, the 
 youngest, and most talkative, having 
 assisted Edith in removing her numerous 
 wraps, went into the subject at once. 
 
 " My dear Miss Lascelles, you must not 
 be surprised or shocked, if we seem a little 
 strange to-night." 
 
 "A little elated," amended the elder 
 sister. 
 
 " Yes, a little elated," resumed EHza, 
 nodding pleasantly at Miss Cargill for this 
 correction, " for we have had some very 
 joyful news — news that was altogether so
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 129 
 
 unexpected too. Oh, Miss Lascelle^ 
 my dear, if you only knew Nettia, you 
 would feel, 1 am certain, as we do." 
 
 "Who is Nettia?" said Edith, quite 
 prepared now to be interested in the 
 spinster's story. 
 
 " Why, we always call her our niece, 
 because we love her like a near relation ; 
 but she is only connected with our family 
 by marriage." 
 
 " Not her own marriage, my dear," put 
 in Miss Cargill again ; " that's yet to 
 come." 
 
 " Oh, yes," continued Eliza, looking very 
 much obliged for this assistance, as on the 
 former occasion, " that^s yet to come, as 
 Hannah says — not her own marriage, of 
 course, but her mother's, who was a widow 
 with one daughter, when she accepted the 
 hand and heart of our first cousin, the 
 R-everend Alexander Boisragon, with an 
 income of about three hundred a-year, and a 
 small living in Devonshire. Well, this child 
 grew up into a very lovely young woman, 
 G 5
 
 130 FERXLEY MAXOK. 
 
 and good as she was handsome ; but the 
 husband died, leaying a son to be educated 
 and provided for, and the poor mother has 
 had hard work to make two ends meet 
 during these last fifteen years, for AHck was 
 sent to a pubHc school, and then to a private 
 tutor's, and after that to Cambridge, and 
 all out of not more than five hundred per 
 annum — her husband's private fortune, and 
 her own/' 
 
 " But Mrs. Boisragon is an extraordinary 
 woman," said Mr. Cargill, with something 
 verv like a sioh. ** I never saw her 
 equal." 
 
 " She is an admirable creature, indeed," 
 pursued the narrator, " but Nettia is more 
 to my taste. Miss Lascelles, if you are 
 not tired, I will finish her history." 
 
 " Pray do," said Edith, thinking it might 
 have been told fiftv times over in the same 
 space, " I am deeply interested." 
 
 " Well, my dear, you may suppose that 
 with such a heavy drain upon Mrs. Bois- 
 ragon's income, there was little left for the
 
 FERNLEY MANOR 131 
 
 education of her daughter. I do not be- 
 lieve poor Nettia ever had a master in her 
 Hfe, and I am sure she deserved the best ; 
 for a more intelKgent, industrious creature 
 it would be quite impossible to find. So 
 with a little assistance from her mother, 
 and constant diligence, this dear girl man- 
 aged, after she w^as thirteen, to educate 
 herself ; and though she can neither play, 
 nor draw, nor dance fashionably, I will say 
 that I should be proud to have a daughter 
 of my own as well instructed in every 
 branch of useful knowledge, as Antoinette 
 Egerton. She doats upon her half-brother 
 and has never been known to breathe a 
 single murmur at tlie superior advantages 
 he has enjoyed. The fact is, Mrs. Bois- 
 ragon reckoned perhaps a little too mucli 
 on Nettia's beauty, w^iich she thought would 
 be certain to ensure her a good match ; 
 but you know. Miss Lascelles, beauty with- 
 out money goes for a mere nothing in 
 these days ; and a quiet, Devonshire village, 
 was not exactly the place for matrimonial
 
 132 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 speculations. So, to the surprise of all 
 who knew her worth, and saw her re- 
 markable attractions, our darling girl ar- 
 rived at the age of twenty-four, without 
 having had a single proposal. She often 
 laughed about it herself, and used to say 
 that she should never fall in love ; but we 
 always told her she knew nothing of her 
 own heart, and that it would be caught for 
 good one of these days. And now, my 
 dear, I am coming to the pith of my narra- 
 tive. The last we heard of our friends, 
 until the letter just received, was that 
 Alick had left Cambridge (which was too 
 expensive for his mother's scanty purse) 
 and had gone to pass some months with 
 his cousin. Sir Stuart Bernardo, in the 
 highlands. This Sir Stuart, whom you 
 must have heard of in the neighbourhood, 
 my dear, is our relation also, and a more 
 charming, accomplished man never came 
 out of our bonnie Scotland. He is about 
 thirty-two years of age, and like Nettia, 
 has frequently boasted that he should go
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 133 
 
 down to the grave without having con- 
 tracted a single attachment stronger than 
 friendship ; but fate has willed it other- 
 wise, for the letter you found us reading, 
 announces the joyful fact that Sir Stuart, 
 having brought back Alick, has fallen des- 
 perately in love with our dear, darling 
 Nettia, that they are engaged, and will 
 most likely be married in the Spring. 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Boisragon is nearly beside 
 herself with delight — for, in addition to 
 Sir Stuart's virtues and attractions he has 
 a noble fortune to bestow on his wife, and 
 our child will be one of the first ladies in 
 Scotland." 
 
 Miss Eliza was obliged to pause here, 
 not only because she was quite out of 
 breath, but because her eyes were full of 
 happy tears, and her voice was quivering 
 perceptibly. Edith's glowing cheeks at- 
 tested her sympathy, without the aid of 
 words ; at any rate, she did not speak, 
 and they were all perfectly satisfied with 
 her silence.
 
 134 FERNLEY MANOR 
 
 The arriyal of the tea equipage pre- 
 vented, for awhile, any renewal of the all 
 engrossing subject ; but before the meal 
 was concluded. Miss Lascelles had learned 
 that Nettia was to be invited immediately 
 to Fernley Cottage, and that Sir Stuart 
 Bernardo would come, soon after Christmas, 
 and spend a month or two at Heather 
 Lodge. 
 
 The remainder of the evening these 
 kind and well-bred old ladies devoted 
 entirely to their young guest, who, though 
 pleased with their attentions, did not exert 
 herself to charm them quite so much as 
 she had intended. Perhaps she was too 
 deeply interested in Miss Egerton's history, 
 to think about herself — perhaps she had a 
 head-ache, and felt incapable of conversa- 
 tion — or it might be that she despaired of 
 gaining any prominent place in hearts 
 that were already filled with another 
 image. 
 
 Reader, if you do not think that either 
 of the above reasons would have influenced 
 our friend Ec-ith, I must leave vou to
 
 FBRNLEY manor; 13 j 
 
 suggest a more probable one. for I have 
 shewn jou quite enough of her heart to 
 enable you to judge of its most secret 
 workings. 
 
 Little as the young lady did, however, 
 she confirmed the favourable impression 
 made on the inmates of the cottage the 
 first day of their acquaintance, and they 
 all joined in entreating her to come very 
 often when their darling Nettia should be 
 with them. Edith feared the arrival of 
 her own guests would suspend, for awhile, 
 the intimacy, in which she promised herselt 
 so much pleasure, but she would certainly 
 call upon Miss Egerton, and hoped to 
 prevail on her to come sometimes to the 
 Manor. The old people were delighted at 
 this, and prophesied that their Nettia and 
 Miss Lascelles would become the greatest 
 friends. 
 
 Thus everything seemed to wear a 
 smihng, sunny aspect, and while Edith 
 walked home in a deeply though ful mood, 
 attended by Kero, Peter, and his huitern.
 
 136 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 the happy Oargills were building a 
 thousand custles in the air, and dreaming 
 away as foolishly as though more than 
 half a century had not passed o^er each 
 of their heads, teaching them, in its 
 progress, the utter vanity of all human 
 scheming. 
 
 Let them dream on peacefully, dear, 
 kind old souls ! They are standing on the 
 rock themselves, and it is only through 
 those they love, that earthly sorrow can 
 reach them now. They will kneel together, 
 and pray fervently for the happiness of the 
 beloved ones, and then they will sleep with 
 that perfect calmness, which the young 
 and feverish hearted seldom enjoy. 
 
 Let them dream on !
 
 FERNLBY MAls'OR. 137 
 
 CHArTER XL 
 
 THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER. 
 
 And now I am going to introduce you, in 
 due form, to Mrs. Boisragon and her 
 daughter, for eloquent as Miss Ehza 
 Cargill has been in their behalf, I do not 
 think you feel, at present, as much inter- 
 ested about them, as I intend you shall be 
 by-and-bye. 
 
 It is a few days after Sir Stuart Ber- 
 nardo's proposal, and that gentleman, 
 having been suddenly called to London*
 
 138 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 has taken Alick with him, and the two ladies 
 are quite alone, sitting with their needle- 
 work by a small, clear fire, in the prettiest 
 little parlour you can possibly imagine. 
 They both look very happy, and the 
 mother smiles, at intervals, in a quiet, 
 pleasant manner to herself. At length, 
 she says, 
 
 " I am t] linking, dear, what a state my 
 letter will put our good cousins in. Can^t 
 you fancy the trio as they read the news '?" 
 
 " They will be enchanted," the daughter 
 answers, with a sweet, flitting blush.' " I 
 know they have long had secret wishes on 
 the subject, for Stuart's praises have been 
 sung to me ever since I can remember." 
 
 " Then you were prepared to admire 
 him, Nettia V 
 
 " No, mama, I cannot say that, for my 
 opinion has always been, that my dear 
 aunts love everybody, and everything ; 
 and I fancied that their anxiety to see me 
 well married, might make them exaggerate 
 Sir Stuart's manifold attractions. I cer-
 
 FKRNLEY MANOR. 139 
 
 tainly had not fallen in love with him 
 before we met." 
 
 " But you have no doubt of your feelings 
 now, dearest V 
 
 " Mama 1" 
 
 " Forgive me, Nettia, I did not mean for 
 one instant to question your sincerity, or to 
 imply a suspicion that you had accepted 
 Sir Stuart for any worldly considerations. 
 I am only tremblingly anxious for your 
 happiness, my own precious child — ah, you 
 have been so good to me Nettia — and I 
 have asked myself once or twice whether 
 yours is a disposition to devote itself en- 
 tirely to an object with whom you have 
 no early associations ; and whether you 
 may not, as so many hundreds have done, 
 mistake gratified vanity for a deep and 
 enduring attachment. You know, my 
 love, it is the first time you have received 
 really serious attentions.*' 
 
 Nettia had ceased to work now, and 
 was sitting with her calm, earnest eyes 
 fixed on her mother's face.
 
 140 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " Mama, what shall I say to relieve your 
 apprehensions on this subject 1 My own 
 mind is clear, settled, unchangeable. I 
 will tell you the sort of feeUng 1 have for 
 Stuart Bernardo, and you shall judge 
 whether it is love or gratified vanity. I 
 admire him, in the first place, for that 
 strength of mind and loftiness of thought 
 which I have found in none before. I ap- 
 prove his principles, his contempt for mere 
 appearances, his recognition of religion as 
 the only safe pilot through the troubled 
 waters of life. I am grateful for his gene- 
 rous attachment to myself ; his tenderness 
 touches my heart — Mama, I feel that I 
 could suffer cheerfully for him, and with 
 him ; I could pity and conceal his faults, I 
 could — I do glory in his virtues ; and I 
 think the prospect of becoming his wife as 
 bright and fair a one as ever dawned 
 upon a human being. I am very, very, 
 happy." 
 
 Mrs. Boisragon looked at the animated
 
 FERNLET MANOE. 141 
 
 speaker through a mist of joyful tears ; 
 she took the outstretched hands and drew 
 her daughter to her bosom. 
 
 " My own girl, there is none like you — 
 God grant that your husband may be 
 "worthy of the treasure he will obtain. I 
 am more than satisfied, Nettia ; and 
 Heaven keep that pure, true heart, from 
 woman's trials." 
 
 " Pray rather, dearest mother, that I may 
 have strength to meet them when they come 
 for how can I expect to escape the common 
 
 lot r 
 
 " You are right, my love, always right, 
 but a mother shrinks from the thoughts of 
 her childrens' sufferings — I could not bear 
 to see that dear cheek grow wan, or that 
 bright eye become dim with tears. I am 
 counted gentle by nature, jNettia, but I 
 believe I should not hold from cursing any 
 "who brought sorrow to you or Alick." 
 
 " Dear Alick," said the sister, "vs'ith such 
 a glow of warm affection lighting up her
 
 142 FEKNLEY MANOR. 
 
 face " he is less calculated, I fear to en- 
 counter affliction than I am, mama. It 
 seems to me that I have an endless fund of 
 endurance ready for the hour of need ; but 
 lX)or Ahck looks so little into the realities 
 of life ; he would be so astonished at the 
 presence of actual suffering, that I should 
 fear his giving way to it without a strug- 
 gle." 
 
 The mother sighed as she said "you 
 think I have spoiled your brother, Nettia V 
 
 " Not spoiled him, mama — I do not 
 believe even you could accomplish that ; 
 but perhaps a little less indulgence would 
 have been better for Alick, when he was 
 younger." 
 
 " Ah yes — i/ou have had no over indul- 
 gence, my Nettia, and you are all that the 
 fondest mother could desire/' 
 
 " So is Alick, dear mama, surely ; where 
 would you find a nobler, warmer hearted, 
 dearer creature V 
 
 *• Yes, he is indeed, all this ; but, like
 
 FEUKLEY MANOR. 143 
 
 jou, Nettia, I should tremble for his streDgth 
 of mind were real trouble to assail him. 
 God grant that the paths of his life may 
 be smooth ones. You think, my dearest, 
 that Stuart has a strong mind." 
 
 " I do, for [ have never detected a single 
 symptom of weakness ; but our acquaint- 
 tance has not been of very long standing, 
 and I have had no opportunity of seeing 
 his fortitude tested. I hope sincerely my 
 judgment may be a correct one.'' 
 
 " Our cousins at Fernley have the 
 highest possible opinion of him ; and 
 they have known him from his child- 
 hood.'' 
 
 " Mama, I have not the shadow of 
 a fear respecting Stuart Bernarde — I think 
 much more of my own unworthiness. 
 There is sometliing so generous, so dis- 
 interested, so noble minded in his devotion 
 to an obscure, penniless girl like myself, 
 when he might have chosen amongst the 
 highest and richest in the land."
 
 144 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 The mother smiled fondly on her beauti- 
 ful, modest child, and (with a little shake 
 of the head, as if not quite coinciding 
 with Nettia's depreciation of herself) re- 
 sumed her work, and suffered her thoughts 
 to wander into the realms of that smiling 
 future which now seemed opening before 
 them. She too, the widow of a twice told 
 tale, was dreaming away as pleasantly as 
 though life was in its bud, and experience 
 a stranger whose acquaintance she had yet 
 to make. 
 
 And Nettia, the young, the newly be- 
 trothed, the fresh in heart and mind ! had 
 she no dreams to while away the hours of 
 that long winter's day 1 Who is there that 
 remembers not the unutterable sweetness 
 of these pure and early dreams *? who will 
 not envy the bright and sunny visions that 
 peopled the quiet room, as she plied her 
 work diligently, and breathed spontaneous 
 thanks to Heaven for the new and delicious 
 happiness of which she was conscious.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 145 
 
 Well, let them all dream on ; for has 
 not the wise man told us that there is a 
 time to laugh, as well as a time to weep. 
 And whether it be far or near, what wisdom 
 can there be in anticipating the weeping 
 time ? 
 
 YOL. I. H
 
 146 FERKLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS GUESTS. 
 
 It was after nearly three weeks of the 
 coldest and gloomiest weather, that the 
 Armstrongs made their appearance at 
 Fernley Manor. Edith had been kept in 
 doors during these very tedious weeks, by 
 a succession of snow storms, and the bitterest 
 of easterly winds ; and her temper, or, as 
 she would have said, her spirits had suf- 
 fered materially from this long imprison- 
 ment. There are few, I believe, who can
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 147 
 
 continue to smile serenely under an 
 obstinate easterly wind, for independently 
 of the effect it usually produces on the 
 nervous system, it is a great destroyer of 
 beauty, and causes the loveliest face to look 
 pinched and blue. Now Edith, like many 
 others whom I have known, could not bear 
 to have an unattractive image reflected in 
 her glass at any time, whether it was likely 
 to be gazed at or not ; and from being un- 
 accustomed to our English climate, the 
 sharp, wintry atmosphere had certainly 
 done her nmch mischief for the time, and 
 produced that clouded state of temper 
 which gave as much pain to her quiet, 
 patient sister, as to herself. The arrival of 
 the Armstrongs was therefore hailed by 
 both of them as a most welcome relief, and 
 Edith became half reconciled to her own 
 diminished beauty, when she observed that 
 Louisa and Martha had shockingly red 
 noses, and that Joseph's cheeks were verg- 
 ing on a decided purple. 
 
 The stately Major received his daughter's 
 H 2
 
 148 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 guests with cold but studied politeness; 
 made a short speech as he met them in the 
 hall ; gave an arm to the two ladies to lead 
 them into the drawing-room ; and then con- 
 sidered himself absolved from all further 
 trouble on their account. He had no fancy 
 for women's society — if they were clever he 
 could not compete with them, and if silly 
 or vulgar, they shocked that sort of 
 romantic taste which still clung to him, in 
 spite of advancing years and the rude shocks 
 he had encountered. 
 
 A very short time served to convince 
 Edith that Joseph's passion had not with- 
 ered in the " treacherous air of absence,'' 
 and she was pleased with the discovery. 
 In the present dearth of livelier excite- 
 ment, there was some satisfaction in wit- 
 nessing the devotion of even this boyish 
 heart ; and truth obliges me to confess 
 that she had not now the prudence andgood 
 feeling to discourage him so decidedly as dur- 
 ing her stay in London. She trusted, per- 
 haps, that his age would preserve him from
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 149 
 
 entertaining false hopes, or that her former 
 conduct had established an understanding 
 between them — or it may be that she never 
 gave the matter one serious thought, and 
 only acted upon the impulse of an inconsi- 
 derate vanity, which everybody knows is 
 selfishness in its most subtle guise. Be 
 this as it may, she certainly smiled with a 
 cruel sweetness upon her desperately ena- 
 moured cousin ; and his sisters, never 
 doubting Joseph's powers of captivation, 
 encouraged him in the rapturous idea just 
 dawning upon his mind, that Edith was no 
 longer indifferent to his ardent worship. 
 
 Margaret, though the most unsuspicious 
 creature living, in affairs of the heart, 
 was roused at length, to a surprised obser- 
 vation of the flirtation going on ; and finding 
 Edith alone one morning, she spoke to her 
 seriously on the subject, 
 
 " My dear girl, you really must be more 
 guarded in your conduct towards Joseph 
 Armstrong — unless it is }^our intention to 
 marry him, by-and-bye."
 
 150 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " Margaret — what an idea !" 
 
 " Nay, Edith, it is an idea that would 
 suggest itself to any one who saw you 
 together — unless it might be a very uncha- 
 ritable person — who would, perhaps, say 
 you were only trifling with the poor 
 boy." 
 
 " What nonsense ! there can, surely, be 
 no impropriety in my speaking kindly to 
 such a mere child as Joseph — my cousin, 
 too, and my guest." 
 
 " Assuredly not ; but you know, Edith 
 dear, you are not content with speaking 
 kindly to him ; you are very accomplished 
 in the art of fascinating ; and you have 
 exercised this art most industriously of late. 
 Besides, the young man is, at least, as old 
 as yourself, if not older ; and just at the 
 age when the strongest impressions are 
 often made. Pray, my loye, think seriously 
 of what you are about." 
 
 Edith, like all spoiled children, was very 
 impatient of reproof — especially, when her
 
 FERNLEY MAKOR 15l 
 
 conscience told her it was merited ; so this 
 kindly meant warning of her sister, caused 
 great offence to the young lady, and she 
 determined on shevring a few airs in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 " I am going out, Margaret," she said, 
 coldly, about an hour after the aboye con- 
 versation had taken place ; " and as I shall 
 probably be absent till dinner time, per- 
 haps you will be good enough to make my 
 excuses to Mr. Armstrong, when he comes 
 in. I had promised to give him a lesson 
 in singing this morning." 
 
 Margaret was busy in her store- closet — 
 she looked up with a pained expression, as 
 her sister spoke. 
 
 " Very well, Edith — do you wish me to 
 name any reason for the non-fulfilment of 
 your engagement V 
 
 " Oh ! you can do as you please. I am 
 going to call on Miss Egerton ; she has been 
 more than a week at the cottage ; and I 
 promised to pay an early visit."
 
 152 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 (I should have mentioned that the 
 Misses Cargill and Margaret had already 
 exchanged calls, and that the Major had 
 even condescended so far as to leave a 
 card for the old gentleman, in return for 
 a visit he had received from him.) 
 
 And now behold Edith, dressed with a 
 considerable degree of taste and care, (in 
 spite of her angry mood,) walking quickly 
 towards the village, accompanied by the 
 faithful Nero, to whom she was unusually 
 harsh and snappish on this occasion, which 
 you will say, was a piece of unpardonable 
 injustice, inasmuch, as the poor animal had 
 neither instigated Margaret to lecture the 
 little flirt, nor could in any way be sup- 
 posed to have had a hand in the matter 
 that annoyed her. 
 
 But, as in most of the clouds that over- 
 shadow us in this world, there is generally 
 some faint speck of blue, to give courage 
 to our sinking hearts, so, in the present 
 case, there was one circumstance which
 
 FERKLEY MANOR. 153 
 
 compensated to Edith for much of the an- 
 noyance slie had suffered — the day was 
 mild and fine, for the south wind blew, and 
 she felt that she was looking her very 
 best. 
 
 This may appear a trifling thing to those 
 of my readers who are blessed with strong 
 minds ; but, I dare say, there are others 
 who will readily understand it, when they 
 remember that Miss Lascelles was going 
 to meet the much vaunted "Nettia" for 
 the first time ; to endure a comparison 
 with the almost perfect Miss Egerton, of 
 whom she already felt, (whether with 
 or without reason, I leave you to 
 judge,) an instinctive and most irritating- 
 jealousy. 
 
 The very neat and respectful housemaid, 
 who always looked as if she had just 
 stepped out of a bandbox, answered Edith's 
 knock, and told her the ladies were all at 
 home. 
 
 This was fortunate, at least ; she would 
 H 5
 
 154 FERlS'LEY MANOR. 
 
 have grumbled terribly had it been other- 
 wise ; for her curiosity was really very 
 great concerning the bride elect of the 
 hitherto invincible Sir Stuart. 
 
 As usual, the two good old maids sprang 
 up, and advanced, with open arms, to 
 greet their new favourite. 
 
 " How kind of you to come ; how we 
 have wished to see you ; what has kept 
 you away so long 1" 
 
 Edith smiled her very sweetest on the 
 kind questioners, and then turn^ to where 
 Miss Egerton was sitting. 
 
 "Ah, we shall have the pleasure of 
 making you two acquainted at last," said 
 the elder spinster. " My dear Nettia, this 
 is our young neighbour, Miss Lascelles ; 
 Miss Lascelles, Miss Egerton. And so 
 now you know each other, and, I am sure, 
 will very soon become the best of 
 friends." 
 
 They shook hands, they both smiled, and 
 murmured a few words, indicative of the
 
 FEKNLBY MANOR. 155 
 
 pleasure they felt in becoraiDg acquainted ; 
 Miss Egerton placed a chair for Edith, 
 quite close to her own, they entered easily 
 and naturally into familiar conversation, 
 (for neither of them possessed any of that 
 bashfulness with which some young ladies 
 are afflicted,) and the old people looked 
 delightedly on, thinking to themselves 
 that, in point of beauty, and goodness, and 
 even cleverness, there would be rarely 
 found such a striking match as the one 
 before them. 
 
 Such was their opinion of the two ; 
 but now you shall hear the young people's 
 opinion of each other. Miss Egerton, 
 being the eldest, has the privilege of 
 speaking first ; and her observations, be it 
 understood, are in reply to Eliza CargilFs 
 anxious enquiries on the subject. 
 
 " Miss Lascolles, though not beautiful, 
 has a face that you feel compelled to gaze 
 at ; and there is a strange and powerful 
 fascination about her, such as I have never
 
 156 FERNLEY MAIIOE. 
 
 seen in any human being before. I cannot 
 get her out of my thoughts ; she must 
 have bewitched me, 1 beUeve : and yet, 
 in spite of all this, I do not fancy that I 
 could make a very great friend of her. It 
 is perhaps, that she is too clever for me, 
 too imaginative ; A lick would understand 
 her better.'^ 
 
 Now for Edith's sentiments regarding 
 Nettia, which she confides to Martha Arm- 
 strong, because her sister is still in dis- 
 grace. 
 
 " Miss Egerton is certainly wondrously 
 beautiful both in form and face, a splendid 
 Juno of a woman, with eyes that speak of 
 every virtue in the calendar, and a mouth 
 that seems made to express nothing but 
 the gentlest and most amiable things. But, 
 but — you know, Martha, we are none of us 
 without this unfortunate ' but,' to our 
 characters — but, if I were a man, I should 
 as soon think of falling in love with the 
 statue of Minerva, or that noble creature
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. I57 
 
 who represents Britannia on the lesser coins 
 of this realm, and elsewhere. There is 
 something so grand, and cold, and still, 
 about Miss Egerton."
 
 158 FERN LEY MAKOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A PRESENTIMENT. 
 
 " Nettia, my love, what ails you '? I never 
 saw you with such a melancholy expression 
 of countenance before ;" said Miss Cargill 
 to her niece, on the evening of the day 
 Miss Lascelles had called — " yet you have 
 received your accustomed letters, and you 
 say that they contain no bad news/' 
 
 Miss Egerton was sitting, when thus ad- 
 dressed, on a low stool by the fire, into 
 which, very contrary to her usual habit, 
 she was gazing fixedly, and with evidently
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 159 
 
 wandering, if not uneasy thoughts ; for 
 though the cat (a particular favourite of 
 hers) was mewing plaintively, and looking 
 up to her for notice, she never bestowed 
 on it so much as a single glance, but con- 
 tinued silent, grave, and pre -occupied. 
 
 Her aunt's question roused her, however, 
 immediately, and getting up at once she 
 drew a chair to the table, and resumed, 
 with greater industry than before, the work 
 she had laid aside. 
 
 " 1 am ashamed of myself, aunt, for in- 
 dulging in such an indolent mood ; it is 
 not usual with me, and still less so are the 
 feelings that have led to it — do you know 
 what it is to feel a presentiment of evil V 
 
 " Oh, my dear, I hope you are not 
 getting fanciful ;" said Miss Cargill, 
 anxiously, ''that would be such a pity, 
 Nettia. In Scotland, you know, presenti- 
 ments, and even second sight, are believed 
 in, but in this country all superstition is 
 called weakness ; and you, as an English 
 lassie, ought to struggle against it."
 
 160 FRRKLEY MANOR. 
 
 *' But, my dear aunt/' replied Nettia, 
 '' 1 have never in my life till now felt any- 
 thing of the sort. It has come upon me 
 suddenly and unaccountably. It is painful 
 from its newness ; but I am not going to 
 yield to it, you may be sure ; there will be 
 a hard battle if this mysterious foe con- 
 tinues to advance — weakness in my old age, 
 indeed ! that would never do." 
 
 Nettia tried to speak gaily and lightly — 
 she was such a good, courageous girl ; but 
 the aunt's curiosity, as well as some linger- 
 ing remnants of national superstition, had 
 been awakened — these two were spending 
 the evening alone ; and she returned to the 
 subject. 
 
 " It is a bad plan, Nettia, to brood over 
 these gloomy thoughts to ourselves. Tell 
 me what form your forebodings take, my 
 dear." 
 
 It was evident that the niece wished to 
 talk no more about it ; she imagined that 
 the best way to drive away the tormentor 
 would be to pay it no attention whatever.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 161 
 
 certainly not to discuss it as a serious thing 
 — but Miss Cargil]*s question could not 
 easily be evaded, so she answered, with her 
 eyes bent stedfastly on her work, and her 
 cheeks glowing with really modest 
 blushes — 
 
 " It was all vagueness in my mind at 
 first, a sudden darkening of what had been 
 so very bright and hopeful before ; but by 
 degrees it grew more distinct, and became 
 at last connected with Stuart, belonging 
 solely to him. Perhaps this is natural, 
 aunt, as he has been so much in ray thoughts 
 of late, but it will be difficult to reconcile 
 myself to it, for all that." 
 
 " Since when has the fit come upon you, 
 Nettia r 
 
 " Since this morning, only — I suppose 
 the gude wives of Scotland would say some 
 one had cast an evil eye upon me, but, ex- 
 cept Miss Lascelles, I have seen no stranger 
 to-day ; and, fascinating as she is, I don't 
 suppose she possesses the powers of witch- 
 craft."
 
 162 FERl^LEY MANOR. 
 
 " Or that she would exercise them 
 maliciously upon you, if she did, Nettia," 
 said the good aunt, looking fondly at the 
 beautiful girl by her side, " No, my dear, 
 depend on it Edith Lascelles has nothing to 
 do with your bewitchment ; you begin to 
 pine for your lover, darling — that's all/' 
 
 " No, no, I am not so weak as that, I 
 hope,'' Miss Egerton answered, quickly ; 
 *' I am too happy with you to pine for any 
 one — still, I shall welcome Stuart gladly 
 when he comes, especially after these 
 foolish fears — And now, aunt, let us talk 
 about something else." 
 
 * ^ 
 
 In a few days. Miss Egerton, escorted 
 by Mr. Simeon Cargill, returned Edith's 
 visit, and from this time the young ladies 
 became very friendly, and saw a great
 
 FERKLEY MANOE. 163 
 
 deal of each other, the Major permitting 
 his daughter to invite the cottage party as 
 often as she pleased ; and the kind-hearted 
 old maids opening their house at all times 
 to Edith and her friends. 
 
 Louisa and Martha Armstrong had grown 
 very weary of their stay at the Manor, 
 and, but for Joseph's pressing entreaties, 
 would have taken their flight after the 
 first fortnight. There was nothing here to 
 interest them in the slightest degree, no 
 hope of the most insignificant flirtation 
 even ; and though the frequent invitations 
 of the Cargills formed some little variety, 
 they soon discovered that old people were 
 terrible bores, and the calm, stately Nettia 
 the most unamusing person in the world. 
 She would not even talk to them about her 
 lover, or describe her trousseau, or do any 
 of the things they were quite certain they 
 should do, in a similar situation. So their 
 discontent having at last reached its climax, 
 the two young ladies were on the point of 
 writing home for their recall, when a letter
 
 164 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 Joseph received somewhat changed their 
 plans, and gave them a decent stock of 
 patience to endure the dull routine of their 
 present life. 
 
 This letter was from our old acquaint- 
 ance Monsieur Eugene de la Tour, and it 
 conveyed the intelligence that he was about 
 to become located for some weeks in the 
 neighbourhood of Fernlej, having received 
 an invitation from his friend Alick Boisra- 
 gon, to join his cousin and himself at 
 Heather Lodge. 
 
 " Deuce take that fellow ! he's coming to 
 haunt me again, I suppose ;" was poor 
 Joseph^s inward expression of dissatisfaction, 
 as he laid the letter down ; but he only said 
 aloud — *' How, in the name of fate, has 
 he managed to get this invitation I wonder 
 — Edith, do let us go over and see Miss 
 Egerton, and find out all about it." 
 
 Now Edith had her own private reasons 
 for not being particularly pleased with this 
 piece of news ; and was quite as anxious 
 as Joseph to discover when the party were
 
 FERN LEY MAJS'OK. 165 
 
 expected at the lodge ; so she offered no 
 opposition to her cousin's proposal, and 
 thej set off together for Fernley Cottage 
 at once. 
 
 " You will make all the enquiries, Edith," 
 said the bashful Joseph, as they walked on 
 slowly, both much more wrapt up in their 
 own thoughts than usual ; '* Miss Egerton 
 will be better pleased to answer you than 
 she would be to answer me/' 
 
 " Nonsense," replied his companion, (she 
 had not been quite so kind to the poor 
 fellow since Margaret's lecture), " nonsense, 
 Joseph, why shouid you not ask her your- 
 self ; you know you are a favourite of the 
 beautiful fiancee." 
 
 This was partly true ; for Joseph's 
 genuine praises of her brother Alick had 
 warmed Nettia's heart towards him ; and 
 besides, the straightforward sincerity of 
 her character, led her to prefer his sim- 
 plicity (laughable as it sometimes was) to 
 his sister's excessive affectation and 
 frivolity.
 
 166 FRENLEY MANOE. 
 
 " You must ask her yourself/^ repeated 
 Edith, in an authoritative tone, and Joseph, 
 in this case, as in every other, yielded to 
 the will of his despotic idol. 
 
 Miss Egerton received her visitors with 
 the most beaming smiles — she was looking 
 more lovely than ever this morning, and 
 the cause was soon apparent, for, with 
 charming blushes, she communicated in a 
 low tone of voice to Edith, that Sir Stuart 
 Bernardo and her brother Alick would 
 arrive at Heather Lodge the beginning of 
 the following week. 
 
 " I congratulate you sincerely," Edith 
 replied in her gentle, musical tones, and 
 pressing Nettia's hand affectionately. " You 
 must be very, very happy.'^ 
 
 " Almost too happy, I fear,'' the other 
 said, with a serious expression appearing 
 for a moment on her face. " I am sure I 
 never, never can be worthy of Stuart's 
 generous affection." 
 
 " Banish such humiliating ideas," Edith 
 answered with a slight curl of her lip ;
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 167 
 
 " depend upon it no man is too perfect ; 
 and though I know nothing of Sir Stuart 
 Bernardo, III venture to say he is not a 
 hundredth part so good as yourself." 
 
 Tliis was treason to the boundless trust- 
 fulness of Nettia's love ; but she was not 
 given to vehement expressions of any kind, 
 so her only reply was — 
 
 " You will think otherwise when you 
 become acquainted with him, Miss Lascel- 
 les — Then, your wonder will be, how he 
 could have chosen as he has done/' 
 
 " Well, well, I suppose you are wise to 
 say and think so. You have made me 
 quite impatient to see this phoenix. Pray 
 bring him to the Manor-house soon.'' 
 
 Miss Egerton smiled and assured Edith 
 that she should have an opportunity of 
 judging for herself as speedily as possible, 
 and then, as there came a pause in this 
 half whispered conversation, Joseph Arm- 
 strong, blushing to his ears, advanced 
 towards Kettia, and enquired whether 
 Alick had mentioned anything to her of an
 
 IBS' FERNLEY MAISOE. 
 
 invitation he had sent to Monsieur de la 
 Tour." 
 
 " Oh yes," she said, making the poor 
 bashful young man sit down beside her. 
 ^' I can tell you all about it. Alick, as you 
 know, is the kindest hearted creature in the 
 world, and this young Frenchman has kept 
 up a sort of straggling correspondence with 
 him since the summer he came to stay 
 with us in Devonshire. I cannot say I 
 like him much myself, but dear Alick sees 
 no faults in anybody ; and Monsieur de la 
 Tour, having complained bitterly in one of 
 his recent letters, of the loneliness he ex- 
 perienced amongst strangers, my brother 
 asked permission of Sir Stuart to send him 
 this invitation. I was not aware that the 
 matter was entirely settled ; but as it will 
 please Alick to be the means of conferring 
 pleasure on an old friend, I am glad that 
 it is so — we shall muster quite a large party 
 by the time the Spring comes fully on." 
 
 This was all Nettia said upon the sub- 
 ject — it was one that possessed very little
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 169 
 
 interest for her, and Edith and Joseph, 
 neither of them much elated by what had 
 passed, walked home again in thoughtful 
 silence, unmindful that the birds were 
 singing sweetly above them, and the early 
 primroses peeping from the green banks, 
 and shedding a faint but delicious perfume 
 on the still, balmy air. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 170 FERKLEY MAKOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XI Y. 
 
 SIR STUART BERNARDE. 
 
 Tt was another soft, sunny, delightful 
 morning at the end of February, one of 
 those cheering foretastes of the later spring 
 which generally visit our English climate 
 before the winter is well over, and after a 
 long continuation of the coldest weather 
 has made a sweet southern breeze trebly 
 welcome, to the shrinking, shivering frame.
 
 FERXLEY MANOR. 171 
 
 The cottage gardens about the quiet village 
 of Fernley were beginning to look bright 
 with their 3^ellow and purple crocuses, and 
 the green banks of the sheltered lanes were 
 covered with pale primroses, and violets, 
 that peeped from amongst thick tufts of 
 emerald moss, and made the passers by 
 remember their days of happy childhood, 
 when it was joy to them to fill their laps 
 or baskets with these fragrant treasures, 
 though only perchance to scatter in wanton 
 playfulness again. 
 
 Ah! those days of childhood! those 
 days of wild flowers, and green meadows, 
 and sunny hills — why is it that, amidst all 
 the vain and feverish dreams of life, the 
 memory of them will come back to the 
 heart, like a cool, pure spring, rising at 
 intervals, to water a parched and wither- 
 ing ground ? 
 
 Well for us that it is so — well, indeed, 
 that there does exist one gentle, unobtru- 
 sive spellj to keep our souls from hardening 
 I 3
 
 172 FERNLEY MANOB. 
 
 in their forced, but too often willing contact, 
 with selfishness and sin. 
 
 c * « ^ * 
 
 Pollock, in his most talented and ad- 
 mirable work, • The Course of Time,' has 
 chosen for one of his descriptive scenes of 
 the world's innocent delights, a young girl, 
 waiting at a chosen trysting place, the re- 
 turn of a long absent lover. Such joy as 
 she w^ould feel, he evidently considers per- 
 mitted joy — joy that the great Creator 
 will not disapprove, and upon which the 
 angels might look and smile. It is of 
 course, presumed, in the poet's ideal scene, 
 that the girl is pure and pious, and the 
 lover, one that both her conscience and 
 judgment can approve. 
 
 Such a girl as Antoinette Egerton ; such 
 a lover as, she believes at least, Sir Stuart 
 Bernardo to be.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 173 
 
 And there she is sitting now, alone 
 in her aunt's little parlour, and looking 
 quite fresh and fair and lovely enough 
 for any poet's or painter's ideal ; for, ex- 
 pectation has given a warmer tint to her 
 cheek — a brighter light to her eye ; and 
 love, pure, virgin love, has put the last, 
 rich colouring over all, and made the 
 really charming picture complete. 
 
 Sir Stuart Bernardo is every moment 
 expected ; he was to arrive at the lodge 
 with her brother Alick, the night before ; 
 and poor Nettia had sat up till long after 
 midnight, thinking it just possible that 
 they, or at any rate, lie might come over 
 to the cottage at once. She had felt a 
 little bit disappointed at first — and per- 
 haps, a very, very little bit wounded ; but 
 this last was an exceedingly brief sensation ; 
 as humility, or mistrust of her own merits 
 and deserts, was one of ihe strongest fea- 
 tures in Nettia's character ; it amounted, 
 indeed, almost to a weakness, as I shall 
 have occasion to shew you by -and- bye.
 
 174 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 At present, you would rather, I daresay, 
 "witness the meeting of the lovers. 
 
 •* My dear, my dear," exclaimed Miss 
 Eliza Cargill, abruptly peeping into the 
 room. " Sir Stuart will be here in an in- 
 stant. I have been watching for you from 
 the attic window ; and I see him coming 
 down the road. He is quite alone, so good 
 bye ; nobody shall disturb you — you are 
 looking very nicely, dear." 
 
 Nettia was not expected to make any 
 reply to this communication ; the good- 
 natured aunt was perfectly satisfied with 
 the look of grateful acknowledgment she 
 received ; and, in an instant, the door was 
 shut again, and the young, happy girl, 
 alone with her beating heart. 
 
 There were no presentiments — no fears of 
 any kind, to interfere with the pure delight 
 of this so longed for moment. 
 
 And ^now the garden gate is heard to 
 open — a rapid footstep approaches — she 
 raises her blushing face at length, and goes 
 a few paces nearer the window — then a
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 175 
 
 film seems to pass before her sight, and she 
 has no distinct consciousness of anything 
 else, till she feels her lover's arms en- 
 circling her, and hears him fondly whis- 
 pering those magic words — 
 
 " My own — my own !" 
 
 I do not intend to admit my readers 
 quite into the inner sanctuary of a real 
 love scene ; I wish, indeed, to have as 
 little as possible to do with these things, 
 and my only object, in the present case, 
 has been to make them comprehend how 
 entirely Nettia's attachment had become a 
 part of herself. This is but a hacknied 
 term ; but it expresses what I mean — that 
 her love for Sir Stuart Bernardo was inter- 
 woven with every feeling, every hope, 
 every thought or dream of the future. Had 
 it been otherwise, the habitual calm sere- 
 nity of her character could never have 
 been disturbed, as it was, at the simple 
 prospect of meeting him after a few months' 
 absence.
 
 176 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 I am inclined to believe, that, in a 
 general way, it is much safer and better 
 for such natures as these to pass through 
 life without contracting an attachment. It 
 seems such a pity that the thoroughly 
 earnest, faithful-hearted ones — so rare as 
 they are in this false world of ours — 
 should stake their all upon the hazard of a 
 man's uncertain love. 
 
 Better, far better, that they should 
 walk on for ever alone and unsupported, 
 than having chosen a staff to lean upon — 
 and encircled it with the fresh wreaths of 
 their own pure and honest devotion — find 
 it suddenly give way beneath their hold, 
 leaving nothing but the broken wreaths as 
 memorials of their fatal error. 
 
 * ^ ^ ^
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 177 
 
 " And now, my Annie," said Sir Stuart, 
 as, after the lapse of nearly three hours, 
 he prepared to take leave, (reluctantly 
 enough, you may be sure) — " and now, my 
 Annie, you must promise me never to admit 
 any foolish presentiments into that brave 
 little heart of your's again. I am glad 
 you told me of them, though ; every proof 
 of confidence, on your part, is precious to 
 me ; we must have no secrets now, 
 love.^^ 
 
 " No fear of me, Stuart," Nettia repUed, 
 with a smile of such boundless faith and 
 devotion. " You see, I could not even 
 keep this silly little matter from you, 
 thoroughly ashamed of it, as I am.'' 
 
 " You have done quite right, Annie ; 
 and, do you know, I feel almost pleased at 
 the discovery of this shadow of a weak- 
 ness in you, for 1 have sometimes thought 
 that you were too much my superior in 
 moral strength, that my masculine love of 
 guiding, sheltering, and protecting, would 
 have no chance of being gratified where 
 I b
 
 178 FERNLBY MANOR. 
 
 3^ou were concerned. I am positively glad 
 to know that you can be weak and timid, 
 at times — for has not my lamb found a 
 shepherd V' 
 
 There spoke out the true, unmistake- 
 able, natural spirit of man — he must be 
 the strong and mighty one, he must be 
 the ruler and the guide ; his pride will 
 hardly brook even equality in his help- 
 mate — the ivy must cling for support 
 round the noble oak, but the oak cares 
 nothing for those plants that can grow and 
 flourish alone. 
 
 And if men would only take a little 
 more trouble to exalt their own natures, to 
 fortify their minds, to discipline their too 
 often selfish hearts, what woman would not 
 gladly, joyfully fulfil the law of nature, 
 and cling, through life, ay, even unto 
 death, round him, who should be her 
 master, her superior, her protector, and her 
 guide. 
 
 The true woman was equally exempli- 
 fied in Nettia's reply to her lover.
 
 PERNLEY MAKOR. 179 
 
 " In all and everything, Stuart, you are 
 far, far above me, and my utmost earthly 
 ambition is to render myself worthy of your 
 affection." 
 
 Here then we will leave them, for the 
 present, in the full possession of youth's 
 dearest bliss, entirely satisfied with each 
 other, and dreaming, when they had leisure 
 to dream at all, of that bright paradise of 
 love which is generally supposed to lay 
 beyond the smiling shores of matrimony.
 
 180 FEEKLEY MANOR 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A MORNING VISIT. 
 
 Three weeks had passed since Sir Stuart 
 Bernarde's arrival at Fernley, and during 
 the whole of this time, the party at the 
 Manor had been cut off from all commu- 
 nication with the party at the cottage, 
 owing chiefly to the blustering March 
 winds, which kept everybody at home, 
 and a little, perhaps, to the known engage- 
 ments of Miss Egerton, which her kind
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 181 
 
 young friends would not interfere with for 
 the world — though, to tell the truth, they 
 would, some of them, have given much 
 more than they chose to acknowledge, for 
 a sight of the fair Nettia^s lover — the proud 
 Scotsman of Heather lodge. 
 
 Edith had grown tired of smiling upon 
 her cousin Joseph, and had become, indeed, 
 from pure ennui, very irritable, and dis- 
 contented with everybody. In vain, the 
 ever patient Margaret suggested occupa- 
 tions for her — in vain reminded her of the 
 courtesy due to the guests she had herself 
 invited — the spoiled child of a weak father, 
 and too partial sister, turned peevishly 
 from just reproof, and took no pains to 
 cultivate a more amiable frame of mind. 
 Louisa and Martha Armstrong fortunately 
 did not care sufficiently for attentions from 
 their own sex, to be affected, or even 
 offended at this capricious conduct ; and, 
 indeed, just now they were too seriously 
 engaged in freshening up their nearly 
 exhausted stock of finery, against the
 
 182 FERNLEY MANOK. 
 
 arrival of their fresh teau, to notice Edith 
 in any way. 
 
 But with poor unhappy Joseph, it was 
 otherwise. 
 
 The cup had been raised to his Hps (as 
 he would have expressed himself had 
 nature made him sentimental — which it 
 had not) only to be dashed down in utter 
 mockery of his hopes — and what remained 
 for him to do ? 
 
 He was not a person to hang or shoot 
 himself, as some young gentlemen, in his 
 situation, would have relieved their feelings 
 by doing, neither was he a person to sow 
 the seeds of literary ambition amongst the 
 ashes of his wasted affection, by writing 
 verses about his broken heart, and his false, 
 false love. Joseph could no more have 
 made a rhyme, than he could have com- 
 posed a French dictionary — so this very 
 common method of consolation never once 
 occurred to him — poor fellow, how should 
 iti 
 
 But I will tell you what did occur to
 
 FERNLEY MAXOR. 183 
 
 him, and how he acted under the new 
 hght that had suddenly burst in upon his 
 somewhat obtuse brain. 
 
 He began to think there must be a good 
 and particular reason for Edith's in- 
 difference to his really sincere and honest 
 devotion. Looking at himself in a moral 
 point of view (he had previously consulted 
 the mirror in his bed-room, and turned 
 away with perfect satisfaction from what 
 he there saw reflected) — looking at himself, 
 I say, in a moral point of view, Joseph 
 Armstrong made the wonderful discovery 
 that he was not only a most unworthy, but 
 a most ignorant individual, and that unless 
 he altered very much indeed, it was quite 
 nonsense to suppose that Edith would ever 
 care one atom for him. 
 
 You will all admit, that this really was 
 an unusual and extraordinary discovery 
 for a boy, like Joseph, to make — but you 
 must remember that love was his tutor at 
 present, and there is no end (as everybody 
 knows) of the stupendx:)us discoveries that
 
 184 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 young archer's votaries are constantly 
 arriving at. Unfortunately they do not 
 all of them turn their enlightenment to 
 such good purpose as Mr. Armstrong- 
 did. 
 
 He set about remedying his deficiencies 
 as quickly as possible ; and having an idea 
 that reading immensely, whatever books 
 he could get, must be the first great step 
 towards improving his mind, he installed 
 himself, every morning, in the major's well 
 filled library, and read away, as he would 
 have said himself, for his very life. 
 
 Of course he met with much — very 
 much in his present studies that w^as perfect 
 greek and hebrew to him ; but this did 
 not discourage the young student in the 
 least ; the few things he could understand 
 were more than enous-h to satisfv his 
 cravings after knowledge ; and the rest, 
 he conscientiously believed would remain 
 safely stowed away in his brain for some 
 future day of need. 
 
 As there were no books of a pernicious
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 185 
 
 tendency in Major's Lascelles' library, you 
 may suppose that Joseph was doing a very 
 good thing for himself — in fact, this early 
 love affair promised to be of immense 
 advantage to the individual chiefly con- 
 cerned in it ; and, although Edith (I regret 
 to say) showed a most heartless indifference 
 about her cousin's present pursuits and 
 feelings, the kind hearted Margaret re- 
 joiced sincerely at the fortunate turn his 
 disappointment seemed to have taken. 
 But even she never guessed that the sole 
 object of his new pursuits was to render 
 himself more worthy of that ' bright, 
 particular star,' on which he had gazed so 
 long, and with such vain idolatry. 
 
 Nothing had been heard of Monsieur de 
 la Tour since his first letter to Joseph, but 
 those who thought about him concluded 
 that he must have arrived at the lodge ; 
 and the young ladies were in daily expect- 
 ation of a visit. 
 
 A cold, bright, and not unpleasant 
 morning in March, the wind blowing freshly
 
 186 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 over the fields, the sun shining dazzHngly 
 on the Uttle brooks, and partially lighting 
 up the distant woods which had worn a look 
 of solemn gloom for such a weary time. 
 
 Just this sort of morning it was about 
 three weeks after Sir Stuart's arrival at his 
 snug little box in the hollow. 
 
 The weather had tempted Edith and 
 her cousins to take a long walk across the 
 country, and they had returned consider- 
 ably exhihrated by the exercise, all of 
 them, for a wonder, in good spirits and 
 amiably disposed towards each other. 
 
 It was proposed therefore that they 
 should assemble for the rest of the morning 
 in the library, (because that w^as the most 
 cheerful winter room commanding a view 
 of part of the surrounding country) and 
 that Joseph should read aloud, while the 
 ladies worked or sketched. 
 
 Edith had taken out her drawing-book, 
 and was trying to decide which of her 
 numerous attempts she should finish first.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 187 
 
 when Margaret came in, and approaching 
 her sister, said quietly — 
 
 " Come to the window, Edith, and you 
 will see an old wish of yours realized at 
 last. There are two persons, and both of 
 them gentlemen, crossing my rustic bridge ; 
 remember henceforth you are not to pre- 
 sume to despise it.'' 
 
 It was not Edith alone, but the whole 
 party who immediately rushed to the 
 window, and extraordinary was the excite- 
 ment prevailing when it was discovered 
 that one of these gentlemen bore a striking- 
 resemblance to Monsieur de la Tour, and 
 that they appeared decidedly to be coming 
 in the direction of the Manor House. 
 
 There was very little reading or drawing 
 or working, during the ensuing twenty 
 minutes, for though the pedestrians were 
 lost sight of, before it was possible to decide 
 for certain who they were, nobody seemed 
 to doubt the correctness of their first 
 suspicions ; and to these was added a 
 general beUef that the second gentleman
 
 188 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 must be Sir Stuart Bernarde, who, in spite 
 of his being an engaged man, was an object 
 of very Hvely interest to more than he or 
 his own Nettia dreamt of. 
 
 At length the suspense of the young 
 party was happily terminated by a loud 
 peal of the hall bell, followed in a few 
 minutes by the entrance of a servant, bear- 
 ing two cards, which Edith immediately 
 seized upon, and read aloud — 
 
 " Monsieur Eugene de la Tour," " Mr. 
 A. Boisragon." 
 
 " Shew them in here,'' she said to the 
 man, who had waited to know if the 
 strangers were to be thus privileged. "And 
 stay, Peter, — did they ask for me or for 
 Mr. Armstrong V 
 
 " For both, miss," was the reply ; and 
 Peter vanished to execute his orders. 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed Joseph, drawing a long 
 breath, while his sisters arranged their 
 hair by the little mirrors in their work- 
 boxes ; and Edith tapped her foot either 
 nervously or impatiently on the floor.
 
 FERKLEY MANOR. 189 
 
 " Oh ! you'll all see him then." 
 
 " Well, you have made a wonderful dis- 
 covery, Joe ;" said Miss Martha, curling 
 her lip, slightly, (probably to see how a 
 contemptuous expression suited her face.) 
 " Of course we shall see both the gentle- 
 men ; and I'm sure it svill be quite a novelty 
 —won't it, Edith T 
 
 "Certainly," said the young lady ad- 
 dressed, in a very absent manner, and as 
 she spoke the door was thrown open, and 
 the two friends announced. 
 
 The Frenchman came in first with all 
 his old assurance and affectation. 
 
 " Miss Lascelles I am enchanted at the 
 happiness of meeting you once more. 
 Allow me to present my friend, Mr. Bois- 
 ragon ; he has heard of you from his charm- 
 ing sister, and is most anxious to have the 
 honour of your acquaintance." 
 
 Edith received them both, as you can 
 well imagine, with perfect ease and grace- 
 fulness, and having waited till all the other
 
 190 FERI^LEY MAIs^OR. 
 
 salutations and introductions had been duly 
 gone through, she recommended Monsieur 
 de la Tour to seat himself beiween her 
 two fair and smiling cousins, and invited 
 Alick Boisragon to take a chair next to her 
 own. 
 
 Poor Joseph was, as usual, quite left out 
 of the arrangement, so he resumed his 
 book, and appeared to forget that he was 
 not the sole occupant of the room. 
 
 It is astonishing how well young people 
 of opposite sexes get on together in a 
 tete-a-tete^ w^hen there is no one to listen 
 to, or interrupt them. They are pretty 
 sure to discover, in a wonderfully short 
 space of time, kindred thoughts, kindred 
 feelings, and very often kindred aspirations 
 after some ideal good or happiness that 
 has hitherto eluded their most ardent 
 search. T have positively known such 
 confidences made after an hour's acquaint- 
 ance, and I am quite sure there is no
 
 FERJJLEY MAXOR. 191 
 
 commoner foundation stone for romantic 
 attachments than this. 
 
 Miss Lascelles and Mr. Boisragon were 
 both of a poetical and imaginative turn of 
 mind, but here all resemblance between 
 them ceased. They fell, however, into 
 the very usual error of thinking they must 
 be kindred spirits, because they sympa- 
 thized in a keen admiration of poetry, 
 nature, heroism, and so forth. Their tastes 
 (the result of gentle training, almost un- 
 limited freedom of thought and action, and 
 the constant study of works of imagination) 
 were undoubtedly very much the same, 
 but their hearts, their tempers, their dis- 
 positions, (nature's own modelling,) could 
 anything be more distinct. But how they 
 were chattering away, in this their first 
 meeting. What a variety of subjects they 
 discussed and argued upon, and how ani- 
 mated thev both became, and how deH<z;ht- 
 fully handsome they both looked. Cousin 
 Joseph glanced at them stealtliily over his
 
 192 FERXLEY MANOR. 
 
 large book (it was Hume's History of 
 England,) and the splendid pageantry of 
 Elizabeth's visit to Kenilworth became a 
 mere succession of hideous phantoms 
 dancing before his dizzy eyes. And 
 Monsieur Eugene, in the midst of his two 
 companions' charming agaceries, directed 
 more than one uneasy look towards the 
 pair he had just made known to each other. 
 Even Louisa and Martha, engrossed as they 
 were in trying to fascinate their old favour- 
 ite, found time to observe what was going 
 on, and to shrug their shoulders, while 
 they made their faces express a due pro- 
 portion of virtuous contempt and indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 But all this was lost upon the very 
 happy and unconscious pair. They had 
 talked themselves into brilliant spirits, and 
 even the lapse of time was forgotten, as 
 anybody miglit have discovered, from the 
 startled look they both gave, when Mon- 
 sieur de la Tour reminded his friend, in
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 193 
 
 rather a sharp voice, that their visit had 
 been a most unconscionable one, and that 
 Sir Stuart would be waiting dinner for 
 them. 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss Lascelles," said Alick, 
 rising instantly. " / have too good an ex- 
 cuse for my oblivion of time, to render 
 any apology necessary. We shall meet 
 again.'' 
 
 Edith did not reply ; but she put her 
 hand in his as frankly as though they had 
 known each other for years ; and the gentle, 
 almost timid pressure, he ventured to be- 
 stow on it, met no discouragement in her 
 soft, half-pensive smile, and down-cast 
 eyes. 
 
 There was one standing behind, waiting 
 his turn to touch those small, fair fingers, 
 who mi^ht have warned Alick Boisrae^on 
 against that most bewitching smile, those 
 gentle, captivating ways. And why should 
 he not do it ? From Edith he had received 
 only cruel, treacherous treatment, from Alick, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 only unvarying kindness and consideration. 
 Why then should he suffer the last to be 
 sacrificed from a dislike to offend or annoy 
 the first 1 
 
 Why, indeed ? 
 
 A little patience, and you shall know ex- 
 actly how it was — what he did, and what 
 he left undone. The above queries were 
 not, however, the suggestions of his mind, 
 nor had he anything to do with them. 
 Strange as it may appear, they were Edith's 
 own, the offsprings of her natural appre- 
 hensions on the subject. 
 
 " Well, Miss Edith, I do hope you en- 
 joyed your flirtation," said Louisa Arm- 
 strong, the moment the door had closed on 
 the young men. '' Upon my word, you 
 managed admirably to get this Adonis all 
 to yourself And how you did talk !" 
 
 " Nay," observed Martha, who was bet- 
 ter skilled in hiding her envious feelings. 
 '* I think you are unjust, my dear Loo. 
 
 As Monsieur de la Tour chose to seat
 
 PERNLEY MANOR. 195 
 
 himself between you and me, I don't see 
 how Edith could help having the other bj 
 her. They did flirt a little, to be sure ; 
 but then, that Alick is certainly divinely 
 handsome — and mewed up as poor Edith 
 is. Hkely to be in this dull village, you 
 can't wonder at her seizing every opportu- 
 nity of amusing herself. I'm sure I should 
 do the same, in her place." 
 
 It is very doubtful whether Edith under- 
 stood a single syllable of what her kind 
 cousins were saying — for, during all this 
 time, she was cutting paper into diminu- 
 tive masculine, profiles, and a variety of 
 other fantastic shapes. 
 
 She certainly never attempted to answer 
 either of them ; and when Joseph, having suc- 
 ceeded, at length, in establishing the virgin 
 queen within the walls of Kenilworth, shut 
 his weary book, and drew his chair to her 
 little table, saying — 
 
 " Now, may I cut your pencils for you, 
 
 Edith r 
 
 K 3
 
 196 PERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 She pushed her own seat farther back, 
 and muttered impatiently, 
 
 " Do go away — I hate to have people 8o 
 close to me !"
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 197 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 gIR STUART AND HIS GUESTS. 
 
 Three gentlemen were lingering over their 
 wine that same evening in a small, plainly - 
 furnished dining-room, where a huge, plea- 
 sant fire was blazing I will try to des- 
 cribe them to you. 
 
 The eldest of the party, who was about 
 eight-and -twenty or thirty years of age, 
 possessed few claims to personal beauty. 
 He was too fair, and his eyes were too blue
 
 198 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 to suit the otherwise grave, almost stern, 
 expression of his highly intellectual coun- 
 tenance. Yet it was ' a good, and at 
 times, an exceedingly pleasing face, 
 in spite of these apparent contradictions. 
 The mouth was small and well cut, and 
 there was something strikingly interesting 
 and even remarkable in his smile ; instead of 
 imparting an animated expression to the 
 countenance, as the smiles of most persons 
 do, it only converted the gravity of his 
 aspect into a gentle melancholy, which was 
 infinitely more pleasing- This young man 
 had led hitherto a rather solitary existence ; 
 he had lost his parents at an early age, and 
 since then, one by one, all his near con- 
 nections had died away, leaving him their 
 fortunes, it is true, but with them a dreary 
 sadness which though, in general, skilfully 
 concealed, had increased upon him even 
 faster than the broad lands of which he be- 
 came sole proprietor. He was superstitious 
 too, though this was a weakness he never 
 acknowledged ; and proud to an extent that
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 199 
 
 none save himself had any idea of. A 
 kind, almost tender heart, made him 
 lavishly generous, and good taste, true 
 gentlemanly feeling, caused him to act on 
 all occasions according to the strictest dic- 
 tates of principle and honour. 
 
 This is an exceedingly rough sketch of 
 Sir Stuart Bernardo — the nicer, finer shades 
 of whose character will be more fuDy 
 developped by aud bye. 
 
 The next portrait I have to draw is a very 
 difi*erent one, and I feel how impossible it 
 will be ever to do justice to it. 
 
 To do justice to him — to that rare, that 
 strangely attractive, that thoroughly good, 
 (as far as the heart goes), that universally 
 beloved and admired young man — To 
 Alick Boisragon. 
 
 He was much younger than his relative 
 Sir Stuart, about twenty -two, but he looked 
 even less than this, for there was such a 
 perfect halo of freshness (I was going to 
 say innocence, but that does not sound
 
 200 FERXLEY MANOR. 
 
 manly enough, though why men should 
 shrink from being thought innocent I really 
 cannot see) there was, however, such a 
 positive halo of freshness and youth about 
 his face, that it took away several years 
 from his actual age. I have never seen a 
 countenance at all to be compared to it, ex- 
 cept in a picture by one of the old masters 
 — Whether it was of a saint, or a hero, or 
 merely a portrait, I have now no idea. All 
 I remember is that it hung up in the gallery 
 of an ancient house where I spent a great 
 portion of my youth, and that I used to 
 go every day and gaze upon it with a never 
 wearying admiration. 
 
 Alick Boisragon bore a striking resem- 
 blance to this picture. He had the same 
 dark, clustering curls, the same large, 
 glorious eyes, the same dehcately chiselled 
 features, and even greater clearness and 
 beauty of complexion. Everybody said he 
 was far too handsome for a man, and the 
 women, young and old, raved about him*
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 20 I 
 
 as wildly as they rave about a new Italian 
 singer, or a popular preacher. 
 
 A thoughtful person could scarcely look 
 at him without picturing to themselves the 
 adoration the mother of such a son must 
 feel — one could see, at a glance, that he 
 had been reared with singular tenderness 
 and love, that no breath of sorrow or care 
 had dimmed the brightness of his spirit yet 
 — that he believed in virtue, in purity, in 
 all that man still holds sacred ; that he 
 was entering life as joyously and hopefully 
 as if it were indeed the paradise it looks ! 
 
 Already dreaming though, of a gentle 
 Eve, to share with him its captivating 
 pleasures. 
 
 The tliird gentleman is already known 
 to you ; and if you like him as little as I 
 do, you will be glad to escape a minute 
 description of Monsieur Eugene de la 
 Tour. 
 
 They had been talking about a hunting 
 party, which they were going to join the 
 
 K 5
 
 302 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 following day. Sir Stuart had hitherto 
 kept aloof from this sort of thing, because 
 Nettia did not like it ; and though he 
 called his lodge a hunting box, and had, 
 on former occasions, filled it with zealous 
 sportsmen, he was no lover of such amuse- 
 ments himself, and only pursued them 
 from a craving after excitement of some 
 kind, or to be rid of the importunities of 
 his friends. 
 
 But Alick had never yet been present 
 at a hunt, and he had coaxed his sister to 
 withdraw her opposition, for this once, be- 
 cause Lord H 's hounds were going 
 
 to meet just beyond the Fernley w^oods, 
 and they expected to have a famous 
 day. 
 
 There had been a little amicable dispute 
 about the horses, between i\hck and the 
 Frenchman, the latter insisting that he was 
 the best rider, and, therefore, entitled to 
 the fleetest hunter. The former, with his 
 usual good nature., yielded the point, at
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 203 
 
 last, though he had set his heart upon 
 having his cousin's splendid Daphne for 
 himself. 
 
 " And now that this important matter 
 is settled/' said Sir Stuart, to the young 
 men, " pass the bottle, and let me hear 
 some account of your visit to the Manor- 
 house/' 
 
 " Ah, you should have been there/' re- 
 phed Alick, eagerly, " we had a charming 
 morning. Joe Armstrong's sisters seem 
 very nice, chatty, agreeable girls. They 
 are pretty, too — don't you think so V 
 
 (This was to Eugene.) 
 
 " Oh, they w411 pass," said that gentle- 
 man, in a patronising tone. " And so will 
 Mademoiselle Edith, if one doesn't criti- 
 cise too closely — don't yon think so 1" 
 
 There was a sudden flashing in A lick's 
 eye, as he turned to the insolent speaker, 
 but it soon calmed down again, and he 
 answered quietly — 
 
 "I do not think Miss Lascelles could
 
 204 FERNLEY MA\OR. 
 
 pass anywhere, without exciting the most 
 fervent admiration. She is so unHke every- 
 body else, so piquante, as your fastidious 
 countrymen would say. Stuart (turning 
 to his cousin) I think now I can under- 
 stand Nettia's eagerness for you to see 
 her ; she wants to have it over. Any 
 other girl but my good sister would smug- 
 gle such a dangerous rival out of the way 
 altogether ; but Nettia hasn't one spark of 
 jealousy, I will say that for her.'' 
 
 ''Is this Edith so very fascinating '?' 
 asked Sir Stuart, with his melancholy 
 smile. "I confess, it always struck me, 
 that our worthy relatives, at the cottage, 
 were a little imaginative- in that quarter. 
 They do take such stong fancies occasion- 
 ally." 
 
 •'But what did you think of Nettia's 
 testimony ? she is not given to flights of 
 the imagination." 
 
 " Oh, one girl is never a fair judge of 
 another ; they either praise ei^travagantly
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 205 
 
 or abuse ridiculously. Your sister sees 
 everybody through the bright glass of her 
 own sunny mind — however, it seems, in 
 this case, they are all right ; for you, too, 
 have been bewitched by the enchan- 
 tress." 
 
 " I V exclaimed Alick, looking as though 
 this supposition embraced a new and alto- 
 gether original idea, which he was trying, 
 in vain, to comprehend. '' What can make 
 you conceive such a thing as that V 
 
 ''My dear boy, your own prnegyric 
 alone — was it not very enthusiastic, Mon- 
 sieur de la Tour V 
 
 -' You should have seen them together," 
 observed the sarcastic little animal, as a 
 reply to this question. " There never was 
 such a case of love at first sight. Pour 
 Joseph, who is Mademoiselle's devoted ad- 
 mirer also, looked at them over a big 
 book he was feigning to read, and grew 
 yellow and purple by turns. Oh, it was 
 a curious and most interesting sight."
 
 206 FERNLEY MANOU. 
 
 Alick coloured a little, while his friend 
 was talking this nonsense ; but he took it 
 all in good part ; and Sir Stuart gazed 
 at his young kinsman with keen and 
 undisguised interest. He had always 
 considered himself, since the death of 
 Alick^s father, somewhat in the light of a 
 guardian to his cousin — he had felt a sin- 
 cere affection for him, even before he knew 
 Antoinette Egerton, and her devotion to 
 her brother naturally increased Sir Stuart's 
 partiality, as he was far above the littleness 
 (peculiar to some characters) of feeling 
 jealous of the natural affections of those on 
 w^iose love he had the highest claim. 
 
 During his stay in Devonshire, Mrs.Bois- 
 ragon and himself had frequently dis- 
 cussed Alick's disposition, and they both 
 agreed that an early marriage, with a 
 really good and sensible Avoman, would be 
 the most probable means of ensuring his 
 happiness. When 'once Sir Stuart and 
 Nettia were settled, he was to begin his
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 207 
 
 studies for the bar ; but they did not ex- 
 pect he would do much good in any pro- 
 fession, unless a decided and important ob- 
 ject could be found for him. The remem- 
 brance of many of these discussions came 
 across Sir Stuart's mind, while Eugene was 
 bantering Alick ; and, looking kindly at 
 the latter, he said — 
 
 " I must really manage to get an intro- 
 duction to the fair lady of the Manor, and 
 now it will be to gratify my own curiosity 
 as much as to please Annie." 
 
 Eugene whistled a French air, and then 
 walked out alone to smoke a cigar. 
 
 The next morning, the three gentlemen 
 were in the stable yard looking after their 
 respective steeds, at an early hour. Sir 
 Stuart had politely chosen the worst for 
 himself ; but they were all fine hunters, 
 and Daphne was said to be the most vahi- 
 able, and the fleetest in the whole county. 
 The groom was leading her about with 
 honest pride, as Monsieur Eugene came up 
 to look at her.
 
 208 FEKKLEY MANOR. 
 
 " You'll be the best mounted in the 
 whole field, you will, sir," he said, touching 
 his hat respectfully to his master's guest. 
 " She'll shew off finely to-day — she will, 
 for it's- more than six weeks since she's 
 felt a saddle on her back — bless you, sir, 
 she'll clear a five-bar gate as easy as you 
 step across a gutter — she makes nothing 
 of any ^obstacle — she don't." 
 
 The Frenchman was puffing away at a 
 perfumed cigar, and a very close observer 
 might have seen that he puffed a little 
 faster while this intelligence was being 
 given. As the man ceased speaking, he 
 also ceased smoking, and laying his hand 
 on Daphne's neck, asked in a confidential 
 whisper, if the animal had any tricks of 
 shying, kicking, bolting, &c., &c. 
 
 " Wliy, as for that," said the groom, 
 who had experienced a secret disgust at 
 the idea of mounting such a pigmy of a 
 man on the best hunter in the county. "I 
 can't say but what she's skittish at all 
 times, and to-day you see, sir, it's like she'll
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 209 
 
 be something uncommon in that way — but 
 if so be as she bolts, sir, you've only to 
 hold her in, and may be, when she's tired, 
 shell stop — most of 'em does, sir, I think ; 
 least ways, we must hope for the best — 
 you know, sir." 
 
 Eugene bestowed one of his darkest 
 looks on the philosophical groom, and 
 throwing away the remnant of his cigar, 
 walked round to Alick, whom he thus 
 addressed, 
 
 " My dear fellow, that Daphne is a 
 splendid creature — she ought to be called 
 Edith — hey ? but upon my word, the more 
 I look at her, the more I reproach myself 
 for my selfishness in taking her from you. 
 They say this 'Hornet' that you were 
 going to ride, has some ugly tricks at times, 
 and if any accident happened, I should 
 never — no never, forgive myself — besides 
 it is solely on your account that Sir Stuart 
 consents to go to-day. My mind is (piite 
 made up — we will change horses." 
 
 Now Alick Boisragon was not quite such
 
 210 FERNLEY MANOE. 
 
 a fool, as he was content for the occasion 
 to appear, so thanking his friend for the 
 generosity of this offer, he agreed joyfully 
 to the transfer, and in half an hour they 
 were all gallopping briskly through the 
 glen.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 DAPHNE AND HER RIDER. 
 
 Miss Egrrton walked over, that morning, 
 to pay a visit to Edith, partly because 
 it had long been owing — partly because, 
 having grown accustomed to see Sir Stuart 
 every day, she did not very well know 
 what to do with herself in his absence. 
 The wisest people, I think, become indolent 
 during the period of courtship. An 
 absorbing passion certainly indisposes the 
 mind for the petty occupations of a 
 woman's life ; and besides this, Kettia was
 
 212 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 a bit of a coward abour horses and hounds, 
 and could not help picturing her lover 
 and brother exposed to a thousand dangers. 
 
 " My dear child, there is no cause for the 
 slightest apprehension," Mr. Simeon Cargill 
 had said to her, when it was observed that 
 she looked unusually pale at breakfast- 
 time. " Sir Stuart has never had an acci- 
 cident — for his horses are remarkably sure 
 footed and tractable, as I have heard. 
 Then, as for the hounds, you know, my 
 dear, they're not the sort of dogs that 
 usually go mad — otherwise, I shuold be 
 the first to take alarm ; for a circumstance 
 occurred to me when I was a boy — '' 
 
 " Oh, yes ! uncle,'' said Nettia, repress- 
 ing a smile ; " you have told me all about 
 that before ; and I really never feared for 
 a moment, that the hounds would go mad. 
 I don't fear any thing in particular — only I 
 shall be very, very glad, when Stuart and 
 Alick are safe at home again/' 
 
 Edith expressed great pleasure at Net- 
 tia's visit ; and, on hearing what had be-
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 213 
 
 come of the gentlemen, it was agreed that 
 Miss Egerton should stay to luncheon, and 
 that they should all walk in the afternoon, 
 escorted by Joseph, to meet the returning 
 sportsmen. The female Armstrongs had 
 first suggested this plan ; and, as Nettia 
 eagerly acceded to it, Edith thought there 
 could be no impropriety ; and so the mat- 
 ter was settled. 
 
 With the aid of books, music, and gos- 
 sipping, the morning passed quickly away, 
 and about four o'clock the young ladies de- 
 clared themselves ready ; and Joseph wrs 
 ordered to attend, because, as Edith whis- 
 pered to Nettia, 
 
 " It looked better, otherwise they 
 should have done exceedingly well without 
 him." 
 
 " Poor fellow !" said Nettia, " it would 
 be a shame to leave him behind ; he is so 
 devoted to you. Miss Lascelles \" 
 
 '' Boy's love,'' replied the other, con- 
 temptuously ; " but pray, call me Edith,
 
 214 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 for the future. We shall never get on 
 while we ' miss ' each other." 
 
 It happened to be a very lovely evening 
 — and the young people not only enjoyed 
 their walk extremely, but became very 
 merry and sociable together, and suggested 
 all sorts of pleasant parties for the coming 
 spring. The Armstrongs spoke of a cham- 
 pagne picnic in the woods ; Edith thought 
 she could manage a miniature /e/e in her 
 father's grounds, and Nettia had a vision of 
 the whole party taking tea in her aunt's 
 orchard, with the bright apple blossoms 
 falling around them, and Edith's splendid 
 voice making melody in the scented 
 air ! 
 
 "Oh ! charming — charming!" was eagerly 
 repeated at the conclusion of each sugges- 
 tion ; but Joseph, venturing to murmur 
 something about gooseberry fool, or straw- 
 berry cream, as an appropriate auxiliary at 
 the orchard banquet, was unanimously 
 voted unworthy of admission, and immedi-
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 215 
 
 ately condemned to the menial office of 
 lacquey at all the proposed festivals. 
 
 They were so merry — so light-hearted 
 — so full of nonsense, that sweet, sunny 
 evening ; and when three or four girl, get 
 together, they do take such delight in vic- 
 timizing any unfortunate man, young or 
 old, who is imprudent enough to venture 
 amongst them. 
 
 They had, hitherto, been walking through 
 the lanes that conducted from the Manor 
 House to the main road ; they concluded 
 the lodge party would return this way, as 
 it was the best and nearest from whence 
 they would probably have to come. 
 
 " I see a cloud of dust in the distance," 
 said Joseph, as they suddenly turned out 
 of the last lane, and entered the ascending 
 road that led to the Fernley woods. 
 " Shall I run forward, and bring you word 
 what it is.'' 
 
 " Nonsense," said Edith, we can wait 
 •very patiently, till they meet us, can we 
 not, Nettia V
 
 216 * FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 Nettia made no reply ; she had got 
 upon a mound of turf by the road side, 
 and was straining her eyes in the direction 
 of the cloul of dust that Joseph had dis- 
 covered. Edith fancied she had grown 
 pale within the last few seconds. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter with you, 
 Nettia ?" she asked anxiously. " You look 
 as if you were going to faint." 
 
 The rest of the party had walked on a 
 little, and these two were alone. Nettia 
 descended abruptly from her eleyation, and 
 seized Edith's hand. 
 
 " It is no fancy," she said in a quick, 
 nervous manner ; " something is amiss — 
 through that cloud of dust I saw what ap- 
 peared to me a Utter borne between several 
 persons. Look, Edith, look — but it comes 
 on so slowly — I cannot wait." 
 
 " Stay for pity's sake !" cried Edith, as 
 the excited girl was about to start off by 
 herself. " You must not think of such a 
 thing, Nettia. Joseph shall hurry on ; but 
 believe me, it is entirely the efiect of im-
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 217 
 
 agination Even now, I see nothing but 
 the cloud of dust, and some very dim 
 objects emerging from it, which you may 
 depend will turn out to be the three gentle- 
 men in perfect health and safety. My 
 dear girl, pray calm yourself, and we will 
 sit here to rest for a few minutes." 
 
 Pale as death, Nettia stood listening to 
 all her companion said, but her reason 
 evidently remained unconvinced, and she 
 would only agree that Joseph should hasten 
 on, instead of herself, for now her agitation 
 had increased to such an extent, that it was 
 with great difficulty she could either speak 
 or stand. 
 
 So placing her, with much tenderness, 
 on the little bank, Edith walked up quickly 
 to the others, and explaining Miss Egerton's 
 unaccountable alarm, desired her ever 
 obedient cousin to run, with all imaginable 
 speed, and ascertain what the advancing 
 object really was. Then, accompanied by 
 the two girls, she returned to Nettia, who 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 was striving earnestly, but vainly, to re- 
 cover some portion of composure. 
 
 "You must despise me" she said, in a low 
 voice, and with a sickly smile ; " but really 
 I cannot shake off the horror with which 
 that sight has filled me. Look again Edith 
 — do not deceive me. I feel that there is 
 something dreadful to learn.'' 
 
 " Good Heavens \" cried Miss Armstrong 
 suddenly, " it looks like a funeral, I declare. 
 It is certainly nobody riding — oh dear, I 
 wish we had not come.'' 
 
 " So do 1," said her sister, quite regard- 
 less of poor Nettia's sufferings, " I declare 
 I feel quite sick. If it is any accident, 1 
 shall be sure to faint." 
 
 " Then pray go home, both of you," ex- 
 claimed Edith, thoroughly disgusted with 
 their heartlessness and affectation. " You 
 have not far to walk, and you will meet 
 nobody in those quiet lanes." 
 
 The sensitive young ladies looked once 
 more steadily up the road, and having, it
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 219 
 
 is presumed, satisfied themselves that it 
 was not a riding party coming towards 
 them, they hesitated no longer in taking 
 Edith's advice, but turned down the lane 
 at a pace that was better calculated to 
 display the lightness of their heels, than 
 the dignity of their carriage. 
 
 It seemed a sensible relief to Nettia to 
 find herself alone with Edith. She stood 
 up now, holding the arm of her companion, 
 trembling still very much, but apparently 
 prepared for the worst. They could both 
 plainly distinguish an object that seemed 
 to be surrounded or carried by several 
 persons walking very slowly. So slowly, 
 they scarcely appeared to move, and yet 
 every moment the group came out clearer 
 against the dark back-ground. Edith had 
 grown excited too from sympathy with her 
 companion ; she felt quite affectionately 
 towards Nettia in this her hour of weak- 
 ness, and the dearest friend or sister could 
 not have shown more tender, loving kind- 
 L 2
 
 220 FERNTiEY MANOE. 
 
 ness than she did now. At length a happj 
 thought struck her. 
 
 " Dear Nettia, perhaps, after all, it is 
 only that odious little Frenchman who has 
 been thrown — indeed this is by far the 
 most probable, because all foreigners are 
 clumsy riders, and he is so conceited he 
 would be certain to choose a spirited horse. 
 You know we need not care so very much 
 for him. For my part, I think a good fall 
 would be of great service to the creature/' 
 
 So she was running on, trying to con- 
 vince herself, and believing she had im- 
 parted a hope to Nettia ; but the latter 
 suddenly stopped her. 
 
 *' Edith, it is no use. 1 have been too 
 happy — too completely wrapped up in the 
 love of a human being. May Heaven give 
 me strength to bear the punishment 
 meekly !" 
 
 Poor girl! it was the remembrance of 
 lier strange presentiment, just before her 
 lover's arrival, which caused this obstinate
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 221 
 
 conviction that it was Sir Stuart who had 
 met with some fearful accident. Her mind 
 refused to bestow a single thought on Siuy 
 other, and Edith might as well have 
 talked to the stones that lay scattered 
 around them. 
 
 At length Joseph, who had been forgotten 
 in their intense anxiety, was seen hastening 
 back at almost lightning speed. Nettia 
 covered her eyes for a moment, then, 
 without speaking a word, walked on to 
 meet him ; Edith following close behind. 
 
 Panting, flushed, and breathless, the 
 messenger came up to them, and to Miss 
 Egertons agonized look of enquiry, re- 
 plied quickly — 
 
 " Sir Stuart is quite safe — it is — " 
 
 But Nettia could listen to no more ; a 
 violent and hysterical burst of tears re- 
 lieved her burdened heart, and frightened 
 Joseph so much that his intended commu- 
 nication was deferred until they had placed 
 her on the bank again, and Edith's arm
 
 222 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 was twined firmly round her waist. Then 
 he spoke. 
 
 " It is your brother, Miss Egerton, who 
 has been thrown from his horse, and is 
 stunned, I believe — but do not be alarmed ; 
 there is a doctor with them, and Sir Stuart 
 told me to assure you it would all be right 
 when they get him home." 
 
 Nettia's paroxysm was oyer now — she 
 sprang up, and hastily brushed away the 
 few remaining tears that were stealing 
 from her eyes. Her face was still perfectly 
 white ; but Edith saw that the look of 
 extreme anguish was gone. The brother 
 so long and tenderly beloved, the playmate 
 of old times, was less to her than this 
 stranger, who, with a few honied words, 
 had made himself a place for ever in her 
 true and unsullied heart. 
 
 " Shall I ever feel as she feels V Edith 
 said to herself, as some such thoughts as 
 these passed dreamily through her mind, 
 and then she hurried after Nettia, (who
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 223 
 
 had walked on, rapidly enough now, to 
 meet the procession) and said rather ner- 
 vously — 
 
 " You will not want rae at present ; but 
 say to Sir Stuart that, if it will be better 
 for your brother not to be carried so far 
 as the lodge, papa will gladly receive him 
 at our house, I am sure of this ; there 
 are plenty of rooms ; and I can go home 
 at once with Joseph, and make preparations 
 for him." 
 
 " Dear Edith," replied Nettia, trying to 
 steady her trembling voice ; " you are too 
 good — but if it is necessary, or at all better 
 for my brother, I will, indeed, beg them to 
 do it. I might stay with him in this case ; 
 and that would be a great comfort." 
 
 " Go, then," Edith said, " and let it be 
 settled so. And cheer up, Nettia, we will 
 all assist in curing him." 
 
 She took Joseph's arm as she spoke, and 
 immediately turned towards home, while 
 Miss Egerton hastened forward in the op- 
 posite direction.
 
 224 FERKLEY MANOR. 
 
 " Is he very bad Joseph 1" 
 
 This was after they had been walking 
 rapidly and without exchanging a word for 
 several minutes. 
 
 " Much worse than I told his sister/' 
 
 " Do you know how it happened V 
 
 *' No ; I did not stay to ask." 
 
 " Did you see him V 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, how did he look ? Can't you be 
 a little more communicative V 
 
 (This was said very sharply.) 
 
 " He looked like a man who has been 
 stunned — like a corpse — if you must have 
 it." 
 
 " How dreadful! but there can be no 
 danger 1" 
 
 " I don*t know. Sir Stuart seemed very 
 frightened himself." 
 
 " You are cross, Joseph, because I have 
 asked Nettia to have this poor, dear, suf- 
 fering creature brought to the Manor. What 
 a brute you must be I" 
 
 " I think he would have done quite as
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 225 
 
 well at his cousin's house. It will look odd 
 — this invitation coming from you — but of 
 course you can please yourself." 
 
 " Of course, I can — and as I don't hap- 
 pen to be an Indian savage, or a piece of 
 marble, I cannot see how T could have 
 acted otherwise — but men have no feeling 
 — except for themselves. Come, do let us 
 walk a little faster !" 
 
 * -jt -je 
 
 Major Lascelles was sitting half-asleep 
 in his easy chair by the fire, when Edith 
 hastily opened the door of his room. 
 
 " Papa — dear papa, do wake up. I have 
 something particular to say to you !" 
 
 " Eh ? — what !" with a sudden start and 
 a wrinkling of the brows, thac smoothed 
 again as he saw who it was that addressed 
 kirn.
 
 226 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " Papa, you know there was a meeting 
 
 of the hounds to day — Lord H 's 
 
 hounds — and the young man who called 
 here yesterday, Miss Egerton's brother, has 
 been thrown from his horse, and is very 
 badly hurt. They are bringing him along 
 the road in an insensible state ; and I have 
 told his sister he can stop here if the lodge 
 is too far — you know, papa, there are lots 
 of spare rooms, and Margaret is such a 
 capital nurse, if he should require nursing 
 — so this is all I had to tell you ; and now 
 you can finish your nap, while I go and get 
 everything ready for Mr. Boisragon. 
 
 " My dear child," the Major began, gaz- 
 ing at Edith with his usual earnestness ; 
 " you have been too hasty in this affair — 
 you should — " 
 
 But the dear child threw her arms round 
 his neck, and whispered in her caressing 
 tones, 
 
 " It will all be right ! I have done the 
 wisest thing in the world. Now dorSy papa, 
 dori r
 
 PERNJiEY MANOK. 227 
 
 With Margaret ihere was not the smallest 
 difficulty. She heard that a fellow creature 
 was suffering, perhaps dying, and all her 
 energies were awake in a moment. Per- 
 haps she did not exhibit quite so much en- 
 thusiasm as her sister, but then the sym- 
 pathy she felt, and the trouble she was 
 prepared to take, would have been just the 
 same had Mr. Simeon Cargill, or Monsieur 
 Eugene de la Tour been the object in ques- 
 tion. And this is more than can be said of 
 Edith. 
 
 However, they both bestirred themselves 
 diligently in getting a comfortable room 
 prepared, and the elder sister was quite 
 surprised at the bustling activity of the 
 younger one, and the really clever way in 
 which she set about the unaccustomed work 
 of kindling an obstinate fire into a blaze, 
 changing tables and chairs, and all the 
 other necessary preparatives for the recep- 
 tion of a sick stranger in a long untenanted 
 apartment. 
 
 The Misses Armstrong volunteered their
 
 228 FERKLEY MANOR. 
 
 services on hearing what was going on, but 
 Edith decHned any further assistance, and 
 recommended them, (as their nerves were 
 in so sensitive a state,) to keep to their own 
 rooms till dinner time. 
 
 Then the two sisters, having arranged 
 everything to their satisfaction, went down 
 together to receive the party, who were 
 now coming slowly along the terrace.
 
 TERNLEY MANOR. 229 
 
 CHAl^TEll XVIII. 
 
 EDITH AND MISS EGERTON S LOVER. 
 
 It was two hours later. The doors of the 
 Manor-house had opened to admit a human 
 body, from which every sign of Hfe ap- 
 peared to have departed, and a pale, trem- 
 bling girl bowed down with horror and 
 dread. Others had followed in their train, 
 but these two claimed the deepest sym- 
 pathy, excited the most anxious fear«. 
 The brother was now stretched upon hii
 
 230 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 bed attended by the good Margaret, the 
 village surgeons, and hig almost distracted 
 cousin ; but the doors were fast closed 
 from within, and no other person could be 
 admitted yet. 
 
 Thus it had been from the time of their 
 arrival at the house. 
 
 The sister was with Edith in an apart- 
 ment very near to her brother's, weeping 
 bitterly, almost hopelessly. 
 
 " I could and would stifle my own 
 grief," she was saying, amidst the pauses 
 of her gushing tears, " but the thought of 
 my mother, my poor mother ! upsets me 
 quite. You can form no notion of her 
 adoration for Alick ; this blow will kill her, 
 or drive her mad. And I left her so happy, 
 so full of hope — Edith, have patience with 
 me. I cannot be courageous yet." 
 
 " My poor girl, my dear Nettia, no- 
 body could expect you to be courageous ; 
 but still you must try not to despair. If 
 there had really been no hope, we should 
 have heard something before this— Sir
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 2U 
 
 Stuart would have come to you instead of 
 staying there, if — if they had not suc- 
 ceeded in restoring consciousness to your 
 brother — Depend upon it all is going right, 
 and you will very soon be admitted into the 
 room." 
 
 " T dare not think so, Edith," she went 
 on, raising her face from between her 
 clasped hands, and looking more wretched 
 than her cmpanion had ever seen a human 
 being look before. " I dare not think so, 
 because Stuart warned me against being 
 too sanguine. Mr. Armstrong's statement 
 led me to think lightly of the accident, 
 and I was so grateful — so happy, to find 
 my first fears dissipated, that I readily 
 believed it was as he said, till I saw poor 
 Alick, and heard the real state of the case. 
 They may restore him to consciousness, 
 but Stuart fears more for the injuries done 
 to his chest by the kicks of that dreadful 
 horse. Fancy a Hngeruig illness for a 
 creature so spoiled as dear Alick has 
 been. Fancy an early death for one so
 
 232 PERNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 thoughtless — so light hearted — so full of 
 all life's hopes — so totally unprepared for 
 the life to comeV^ 
 
 Nettia shuddered as she spoke, and 
 again buried her face in her hands, while 
 Edith sat looking at her with true and 
 tender sympathy — oppressed, too, with 
 that strange, new feeling, which people ex- 
 perience the first time they find themselves 
 in the presence of real, unaffected sufi'er- 
 ing. She had no more consolation to offer 
 — she was quite unskilled in the blessed 
 art of pouring balm on the wounded spirit 
 — of cheering the drooping soul, by 
 reminding it of that All-merciful Hand, 
 from which the chastening comes. To her, 
 sorrow of whatever nature, was simply 
 sorrow, and she would as soon have thought 
 of ascribing it to diabolical agency, as of 
 connecting it with that necessary purifying 
 of the heart, which Christians are taught 
 to expect, and exhorted even to be 
 thankful for. 
 
 With Nettia it was certainly somewhat
 
 FERXLEY MANOR. 233 
 
 different— the good seed had not fallen 
 here on altogether stony ground ; but slie 
 was neither strong enough, nor wise enough, 
 to bear, with perfect patience, the first 
 stroke of the chastening rod. 
 
 *' Will they never have finished this 
 consultation? — will there be no end to this 
 torturing suspense V So she was going 
 on, with her hands clasped tightly together, 
 and her eyes fixed strainingly on the 
 passage door. 
 
 At length a step was heard, and both 
 the girls instantly started up. It was 
 Margaret, and she came in softly, and took 
 Nettia's trembling hands. 
 
 " My dear Miss Egerton, I am afraid 
 your courage and patience have been 
 severely tried ! but Sir Stuart would not 
 allow me to come to you till I could bring 
 good news. Your brother has recognized 
 his cousin, though he has not spoken 
 intelligibly yet — however, both the sur- 
 geons think now, that he will do well, and 
 you may go to him as soon as you like."
 
 234 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 Nettia did not wait for a second invita-'' 
 tion. With one beaming glance of 
 recovered hope, she hastily left the room, 
 and Margaret remained with her sister. 
 
 " Is he really better T' the latter 
 asked when the door had closed upon Miss 
 Egerton. 
 
 " Yes, he is better, because they have 
 succeeded in recalling his senses ; but 
 they have fears yet for the perfect restora- 
 tion of his mental faculties ; it seems he 
 was thrown on his head, and the only 
 wonder is, that instant death was not the 
 result." 
 
 '' But how shocking, Margaret,'^ ex- 
 claimed Edith, becoming quite pale, " such 
 a fine, intellectual, charming creature as 
 Alick Boisragon, to have his mind clouded 
 for ever by an apparently simple accident 
 such as this — oh it cannot be, I am certain 
 — what thould these village doctors know V* 
 
 ''We will hope for the best, Edith," 
 replied Margaret, adding, after a short 
 pause, during which she looked earnestly
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 235 
 
 at her sister — " By the bye, you saw this 
 young man yesterday — did 1 not hear one 
 of the Armstrongs accusing you of having 
 flirted with him V 
 
 " Oh, some nonsense, I dare say — I 
 certainly talked to him in preference 
 to his companion ; but you know every- 
 thing goes by the name of flirting now-a- 
 days." 
 
 " Well, Edith, we need not discuss the 
 matter, at present. I have asked Sir 
 Stuart Bernardo to take some dinner ; and 
 as I find papa and the Armstrongs have 
 already had theirs in the hbrary I must 
 beg you to do the honours, when it is 
 served, as Joseph would never have 
 courage to entertain a stranger, and I 
 have so many things to attend to, for the 
 poor invalid." 
 
 " Very well, Margaret," Edith said ; 
 " but I shall make that foolish Joseph sit 
 at table, whether he opens his lips or 
 not."
 
 236 FERNLET MA¥OR. 
 
 " As you please, my love. I belieye 
 you will find Sir Stuart in the dining-room 
 now/^ 
 
 So Edith, after smoothing her hair a 
 very little, went down ; but Sir Stuart 
 was not there, and she began stirring the 
 fire, and drawing up the blinds, and ar- 
 ranging the chairs — all because she felt a 
 very uncommon sort of embarrassment at 
 the idea of meeting Nettia's lover, for the 
 first time. 
 
 (She had only caught a passing glimpse 
 of him as he came in with Alick and the 
 others.) 
 
 At length, just as she had seated herself 
 in a large easy chair by the fire, and had 
 begun to recover from her unaccountable 
 nervousness, a rapid footstep approached ; 
 and presently Sir Stuart, looking very 
 pale, though calm, came in, and saluted 
 his young hostess with rather distant 
 courtesy. Edith immediately rang for 
 dinner, and Joseph Armstrong ; and when
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 237 
 
 they both made their appearance, she led 
 the way to the table, and placed the 
 stranger guest at her own right hand. 
 
 He could not eat, however, and he ap- 
 peared still less inclined to talk. It was 
 a sort of solemn farce, this mute dinner 
 party, and yet one, that they none of them 
 had sufficient energy to abridge. Sir 
 Stuart sat looking into his wine glass 
 gloomily, and sent away each plate nearly 
 untouched ; Edith played with her knife 
 and fork, while she watched Miss Eger- 
 ton's lover ; and Joseph watched them 
 both by turns, wondering why Edith 
 thought it necessary to remain at table 
 under the circumstances of the case. 
 
 But Edith's heart was really touched by 
 the sight of this proud man's genuine suf- 
 fering, and she had no intention of leaving 
 him until she had tried, at least, to speak 
 a few words of comfort and sympathy. 
 Joseph's presence made this more difficult 
 than it would otherwise have been, but
 
 238 FEEKLKY MANOR. 
 
 still some opportunity might arise ; and 
 she resolved to wait for it. 
 
 When the servants had retired, after re- 
 moving the cloth, Sir Stuart roused him- 
 self, and began to apologise for his com- 
 plete abstraction during dinner. 
 
 " This has been such a sudden blow,'^ he 
 said, despondingly, *'that I have been 
 quite unable to fortify my mind or school 
 my heart to bear it like a man. Nature 
 has not made me very hopeful, nor have 
 the circumstances of my life at all tended 
 to remedy this defect." 
 
 " But reason and intelligence will often 
 successfully combat it," said Edith, gently ; 
 " and, in the present case, I should think 
 the exercise of these faculties would enable 
 you to look forward, at least, without 
 despair, even if you cannot be very hope- 
 ful. Mr. Boisragon is so young that it 
 will surely be easy to anticipate a favour- 
 able termination to his illness ; and my 
 sister tells me that the surgeons them-
 
 FBRNLEY MANOR. 239 
 
 selves are not in the least fearful of the 
 result." 
 
 This was far from being strictly true ; 
 but Edith said it because she wished to 
 cheer her melancholy companion ; and her 
 conscience (as we have seen before) 
 was not apt to be very tender on these 
 points. 
 
 "Is this indeed your sister's impres- 
 sion V asked Sir Stuart, with startling 
 eagerness of manner. " I had thought 
 differently from what they said about my 
 poor cousin ! but Miss Lascelles must have 
 a clearer judgment than I am endowed with 
 just now ; and, Heaven knows, I am too 
 ready to catch at a straw in this most un- 
 happy case." 
 
 A servant here entered to summon 
 Joseph Armstrong to his sisters ; and half 
 glad to be released, half reluctant to leave 
 Edith even with the betrothed of another, 
 he got up, and, after a slight and 
 rather awkward apology, slo\^ly left the
 
 240 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 And now, instead of following his ex- 
 ample, Sir Stuart Bernardo, having tasted 
 one drop of comfort from Edith's lips, 
 quietly resigned himself to her very gentle 
 and earnest efforts at consolation. There 
 is no man, I believe, however solely afflicted, 
 who will remain long insensible to words 
 of cheering from the mouth of a pretty 
 woman. There is a powerful fascination 
 to some natures in being the objects of un- 
 affected sympathy, and Sir Stuart's was a 
 nature of this sort. Perhaps he scarcely 
 knew himself how very sweet and sooth- 
 ing, that low, soft voice had grown to his 
 ear ; and he most assuredly had no notion 
 of the time he had passed in listening to 
 it. 
 
 The clock on the mantel-piece suddenly 
 roused him to a sense of his forgetfulness ; 
 but before he could comment on the late- 
 ness of the hour, the door opened quietly, 
 and Nettia's pale face revealed itself. 
 
 " Stuart," she said ; and then stopped 
 abruptly, gazing for a moment with a
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 241 
 
 strange, half startled expression at her 
 lover and Edith. " Stuart," she resumed, 
 without advancing farther into the room, 
 " it is very late — will jou not see Alick 
 again before you go V 
 
 VOIi. I. M
 
 242 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHArTER XIX. 
 
 LOYE. 
 
 Six weeks haYe passed since the conclusion 
 of the last chapter ; and it is now the 
 month of May — such a May as in these 
 degenerate times we rarely have the good 
 fortune to see — bright, warm, cheering, 
 and garlanded with flowers. The old 
 Manor-house of Fernley has cast aside its 
 gloomy aspect, and is decked in all the 
 brilliant jewels of spring. The tall chesnuts 
 waYe in the light breeze, and bend to kiss 
 the pale lilacs that are shedding their
 
 FERNLEY MAJ^-QR. 243 
 
 perfume on the pure air ; and amongst the 
 leafy branches birds carol joyously, and 
 everything' in nature is beginning that 
 beautiful song of thanksgiving which will 
 last as long as one breath of summer re- 
 mains to enchant the earth. 
 
 But these six weeks have brought other 
 and more important changes than the 
 gradual and anticipated awakening of ex- 
 ternal nature. Old Father Time often 
 works more rapidfy within stone walls than 
 amongst lawns and trees ; and on this 
 occasion the interior of Fernley ^lanor had 
 not been forgotten, Avhile he was clothing 
 it so charmingly without. 
 
 We will draw aside the curtain and con- 
 template the first scene. 
 
 It is a small but tastefully furnished 
 room, opening on tlie broad terrace, and 
 commanding a view of all the prettiest 
 points of the estate, the distant woods 
 forming a rich back-ground, and giving a 
 subdued tone to the whole prospect, on 
 which a young man, the only occupant of 
 M 2
 
 244 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 the apartment is gazing with an earnest 
 melancholy that would i]l accord with his 
 very youthful aspect, if physical suffering 
 and debility were not so strongly marked 
 in his every look and movement. He is 
 reclining languidly on a low sofa that has 
 been drawn close to the open window, and 
 a table, plentifully supplied with books and 
 newspapers, stands close beside him, though 
 he appears unconscious, or unmindful of 
 the presence of these mute companions ; 
 continuing to gaze at the charming scene 
 without, and sighing constantly in a strange, 
 absent manner to himself 
 
 But presently a quick, light footstep ad- 
 vances along the passage — he turns to listen 
 to it — a deep colour suffuses his sallow 
 cheek, his eyes light into wondrous brilliancy, 
 and his countenance positively glows with 
 animation, as the door opens gently, and 
 Edith Lascelles comes softly and smilingly 
 into the room. 
 
 " See, Alick, what I have brought you," 
 holding out to him a magnificent bunch of
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 245 
 
 flowers, just tied carelessly together with 
 a blade of grass. " This is to do honour 
 to your convalescence — do you know I have 
 been running all over the garden and shrub- 
 beries to collect these treasures, and be- 
 cause 1 heard you say the other day you 
 loved the pink hawthorn, I scrambled up 
 on a wooden bench to reach you a piece (I 
 am such a little dwarf you see), and tore 
 my poor fingers with the nasty thorns in a 
 most shocking manner — look ; did any 
 mortal ever behold such hands." 
 
 All this time the young man was gazing, 
 with a sort of rapt devotion, at the animated 
 speaker, and when she held out her tiny 
 white hands, disfigured, as much as such 
 hands could be, by one or two long scratches, 
 it seemed as if it was a painful effort to hiin 
 to refrain from seizing them in his own, 
 and pressing them to his heart and to his 
 lips. 
 
 Edith must have seen something of this, 
 for poor Alick's face, though changed by 
 sufiering, still revealed each passing
 
 246 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 thought as clearly as it had ever done, but 
 she took no further notice of it than by 
 speaking in a somewhat graver tone, while 
 she began to arrange the beautiful flowers 
 in a pair of vases that stood on the table 
 near the invalid. 
 
 " You are always so kind and thought- 
 ful," he said, after a pause of several 
 minutes, during which he had been silently 
 watching her occupation. " Every hour, 
 Edith, adds something to the vast debt of 
 gratitude I owe to you and your sister — 
 and I shall never, never be able to pay one 
 tithe of it — tliis makes me unhappy." 
 
 " Oh pray, my dear friend, get rid of 
 that excessive and inordinate sensitiveness 
 of yours — do believe me when I tell you 
 for the ten thousandth time, that you owe 
 us no gratitude, or, if you do, it will be 
 amply repaid by the pleasure of your 
 society, now you are well again." 
 
 There w^as a peculiar depression, tinc- 
 tured too with bitterness in Alick's tone, as 
 he answered —
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 247 
 
 *' Once I might have found it possible to 
 accept those flattering words as genuine, 
 Edith ; but they only mock me 7iow" 
 
 " What do you mean V said his com- 
 panion, turning round quickly, and fixing 
 her eyes on the young man ; though with 
 more of a chiding than an enquiring ex- 
 pression. 
 
 " Ah, you know what I mean, Edith," 
 he replied, still more dejectedly. " It is 
 not my body alone that has been weakened 
 by that most unhappy accident ; as my 
 physical strength returns, I feel how com- 
 pletely my mind has been shaken ; all the 
 bright hopes and ardent aspirings of my 
 youth will henceforth appear to me like 
 fiends, whose mission is to torture the 
 sinking heart — perhaps goad it at last to 
 madness — Ah, mine is truly a cruel fate, 
 Edith ; and if I did not believe that death 
 would soon release me, it would be quite 
 impossible for me to bear it, even as I 
 do." 
 
 Edith drew a chair close to the sofa, and
 
 248 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 gently laid her hand on Alick's arm. Her 
 touch seemed to thrill through all his frame 
 while the languid eyes brightened into life 
 again ; but she kept her hand where she 
 had placed it, and spoke earnestly and 
 kindly. 
 
 " Alick, did you not promise your sister, 
 and your cousin, and me, to fight valiantly 
 against these foolish and unfounded fancies'? 
 Indeed, indeed, it is very wicked, as well 
 as very unwise to encourage such fantastical 
 ideas. You have heard of people becom- 
 ing idiots or madmen from falls and such 
 like accidents, and so you must needs go 
 and imagine that your fate is to be a similar 
 one ; as if we should not all have found it 
 out if there had been anything of the 
 kind, long before this — but really invalids 
 are such visionary beings, particularly when 
 they are getting well, that there is no 
 reasoning with them ; and the only rational 
 plan in my opinion is to treat them, like 
 naughty children, and scold them into good 
 behaviour."
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 219 
 
 Poor Alick was faintly smiling now, so 
 his monitress ceased speaking, and was 
 about to move her chair ; but he caught 
 the little hand he had not ventured to touch 
 before, and pressing it, almost wildly, com- 
 pelled her to remain. 
 
 " Do not leave me alone this morning, 
 Edith. I have such a dread of solitude— 
 besides, it does me good to talk to you. 
 Stuart looks grave as death when I men- 
 tion those gloomy fancies of mine — and 
 Nettia generally cries — and your sister 
 Margaret begins her eloquent sermons — 
 which, beautiful as they are, do not benefit 
 me half so much as the simplest sentence 
 from your lips. Nay, I am not flattering, 
 Edith ; a poor, shattered, dying creature, 
 such as I am, may, surely, be allowed to 
 speak the truth — and you know what the 
 truth is in this case, as well as I could tell 
 you. Stay with me, then, 1 implore you 
 or how shall I be prepared to receive my 
 mother V 
 
 '' Well, Alick, I wiil stay," Edith said
 
 250 FERNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 " if you promise to be exceedingly good, 
 and not to talk any more on forbidden sub- 
 jects. Surely, we need be at no loss for 
 conversation — do you remember how 
 we rattled on together the first day w^e 
 met r 
 
 A sudden spasm of agony convulsed 
 poor Alick's face at these thoughtlessly 
 uttered words — he became quite pale — 
 then almost gasped for breath : and Edith, 
 terribly frightened at his agitation, knelt 
 dow^n by the sofa, and implored him to 
 speak to her and to forgive her. 
 
 " You see what I am," he said, at last, 
 with such a sickly and unnatural smile ; 
 " my mind has lost all strength to combat 
 its sufferings. Edith, unless some powerful 
 change is shortly wrought in me, I shall 
 become the companion of those ill-fated 
 beings you spoke of just now ; and ex- 
 change the society of ministering angels 
 for that of—" 
 
 "Hush — hush now, or I will leave you 
 at once," said Edith, laying her hand upon
 
 FERIfLEY MANOR. 251 
 
 the speaker's mouth. "Is this the way 
 you prepare yourself for seeing your poor 
 mother, who expects to find you all but 
 well 1 And pray, sir, is it by such lively 
 conversation as this, that you intend to 
 entertain the party who have been bidden 
 to celebrate your first day of coming 
 down. Really, I had hoped better 
 things after all those fair promises of 
 yours !" 
 
 In spite, however, of her light manner 
 of talking, Edith's voice was tremulous ; 
 and the unhappy young man saw, or 
 fancied he saw, that she did not think his 
 w^ords so wild as she feigned to do. But 
 there was something in the sympathy of 
 this creature of his secret worship — this 
 angel of his warm imagination, that con- 
 soled him for much that he was endur- 
 ing ; and throwing ofi", by an earnest 
 effort, the outward gloom that had op- 
 pressed him, be resigned himself for the 
 moment, to the enchantment of her sweet 
 presence.
 
 252 FERNLEY MAITOR. 
 
 '* See then, Edith, how well I will keep 
 my promise. Sit here, beside me ; let 
 me watch your tiny fingers weaving that 
 silken web, and I will talk about any- 
 thing and everything, except myself. The 
 lovers shall be our first subject, because I 
 have been thinking a good deal about them 
 lately." 
 
 " Oh !" said Edith, rising for some work- 
 ing implement. " I don't know what there 
 is to be said about them. Their fate is 
 sealed — their horoscope has been cast — 
 the sisters of Destiny have done weaving 
 for them ; and, as their fabric is a very 
 bright and charming one, we may as well 
 leave it as it is — besides, love is such 
 a stupid subject. Suggest something else, 
 Alick." 
 
 " By-and-bye ; but I want first to 
 ask you why you think the fabric of 
 these lovers such a very bright and charm- 
 ing one." 
 
 " Surely, it is clear enough. Is not your
 
 PERNLEY MANOR. 253 
 
 sister as near perfection as a poor mor- 
 tal can be — beautiful as a houri, and 
 good as an angel ; and is she not de- 
 voted, heart and soul, to the object of 
 her choice ? And have they not abund- 
 ance of this world's wealth, and youth, 
 and friends, and — in short, everything to 
 make them as happy as the day is 
 long V 
 
 " But you have left out all Stuart's qua- 
 lifications, Edith. Have you no word of 
 praise for him V 
 
 Edith turned away rather impatiently 
 from the questioner, as though the subject 
 was too trivial to be worthy of a thought. 
 
 *' Oh !" she said, presently, " I don't 
 doubt his mei'its — Nettia's aftection is a 
 sufficient guarantee for Sir Stuart Ber- 
 nardo's wortliiness. Do you know, my 
 good sister ]\largaret, raves about the per- 
 fections, the moral perfections, of Miss 
 Egerton. 1 am quite jealous some- 
 times !"
 
 254 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 " The J are kindred spirits I should 
 think/' 
 
 '' Yes, such friends — it is really delightful 
 to see their attachment to each other — 
 Well, well, these last six weeks have worked 
 many wonders — what will the next bring 
 
 forth r 
 
 A lick sighed bitterly, but forbore alluding 
 to himself again — and Edith went on with 
 the subject. 
 
 " You see my sister and yours have the 
 same opinions on so many points — they 
 are both so serious and yet so cheerful ; so 
 good and yet so agreeable. Unquestionably 
 they have hit upon the philosopher's stone ; 
 but I do wish they would give a bit of it 
 to you and me, Alick." 
 
 *' Do you think Miss Lascelles will ever 
 marry V asked Alick, suddenly, without 
 noticing the other's observation. 
 
 " I fear not, unless she takes pity on 
 poor cousin Joseph — he is a great favourite 
 of hers ; and you know we never see any- 
 body here.'''
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 255 
 
 " Yet you will be certain to marry some 
 day, Edith." 
 
 It would be difficult to say wlietheg the 
 speaker or the listener blushed the deepest 
 as these words were uttered ; but they 
 could not be recalled, and they must be 
 replied to In a very rapid and confused 
 manner the answer came at last. 
 
 *' I am not at all sure of that, indeed the 
 chances are — of course the chances are 
 greatly against it — I believe I shall prefer 
 a single life." 
 
 Alick looked at her earnestl}', and the 
 colour came and went rapidly on his own 
 wasted cheek— -once he half raised himself 
 on the couch, and, as if by an irresistible 
 impulse, stretched out his hand, while an 
 almost unearthly light gleamed in his large, 
 mournful eyes — but the next moment he 
 was leaning back again, pale as death, and 
 with an expression of even more settled 
 gloom than had appeared on his counte- 
 nance before. 
 
 But Edith was apparently too full of her
 
 256 FERKLRY MANOR. 
 
 own feelings to remark anything of this — 
 She had become restless now, and after 
 wandering for a few minutes round the 
 room^ settling the flowers, and diminishing 
 the too glaring light, she told Alick he 
 must do without her for a little while, as 
 she had promised to take a short stroll 
 with her father, before the heat of the day 
 came on. 
 
 " Margaret will come to you, when her 
 household duties are over,'' she said in bid- 
 ding him adieu, "and you must be very 
 good and keep quite quiet for the evening 
 — If Mrs. Boisragon arrives you w411 have 
 to entertain— let me see — one, two, three, 
 four, five, six, seven, people, besides myself 
 — and I shall be a very exacting guest, you 
 may depend upon it/ 
 
 " But sometimes, Edith, the guests have 
 a duty to perform as well as the host — and 
 you have a promise to fulfil to-night, re- 
 member." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I will sing to yOu, whether
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 257 
 
 our party is here or not — and now fare- 
 well." 
 
 The young man was again alone ; but 
 he looked no more at the smiling summer 
 prospect, nor at the luxuries scattered 
 around him, nor even at the sweet fragrant 
 flowers, the "ladye of his love," had brought 
 : — Only from these he separated the sprig 
 of hawthorn, and pressing it tightly (heed- 
 less of the sharp thorns) in his thin hands, 
 he closed his eyes, and — thought !
 
 258 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 EXPLANATION. 
 
 So while this really unfortunate young man 
 is musing bitterly over his blighted life, 
 murmuring even a little at the taste of the 
 cup that has been presented to him (for 
 amiable and beloved as he was, Alick had 
 but a poor, weak, erring heart after all) and 
 Edith is wandering alone about the quiet 
 gardens, the promise to her father having 
 been, as you may have guessed, an im- 
 promptu fiction — I must endeavour to give
 
 FF.RNLEY MAKOR. 259 
 
 a rather clearer notion of the occurrences 
 of the last six weeks, tlian you will have 
 been able to gather from the conversation 
 between the invalid and his young nurse. 
 
 For nearly a fortnight Alick^s recovery 
 had continued doubtful, though there was, 
 during all this time, a slight leaning on the 
 minds of the medical men who attended 
 him, towards the favourable side of his 
 case. The head had received no vital 
 injuries, and the strong fever that came on 
 was considered more the consequence of 
 the bruises inflicted on his chest, than as 
 relating in any way to the brain, though 
 this, of course, became affected during the 
 rapid progress of the fever. 
 
 Sir Stuart Bernarde and Nettia both 
 agreed in the wisdom of concealing from 
 Mrs. Boisragon her son's illness, until his 
 recovery should be declared hopeless or the 
 reverse. They judged by their own suffer- 
 ings what her's would be, and generously 
 resolved to spare her, at least, the wearing 
 horrors of suspense, if they could do nothing
 
 260 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 else. In the the mean time Alick had no 
 lack of nurses, or of the most tender and 
 affectionate care. Nettia took up her abode 
 entirely at the Manor House, and the good 
 old aunts came daily to do their part in 
 watching and tending the beloved invalid. 
 Neither were Margaret and Edith inactive 
 during this season of real affliction. The 
 Armstrongs fortunately grew tired of the 
 domestic gloom, and when Monsieur de la 
 Tour was recalled by his tutor they made 
 an exeuse for departing at the same time, 
 quite heedless of Joseph's regrets and ex- 
 postulations. Thus there was nothing to 
 interfere with the sisters' benevolent duties, 
 and even Major Lascelles came at length 
 to take an interest in the guests who had 
 been in a manner forced upon him, but 
 whose sufferings were deep enough to warm 
 the heart of this almost misanthropical old 
 man. 
 
 They were all in different ways rewarded 
 for their sympathy and self sacrifice, when 
 the physician in chief pronounced those
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 261 
 
 cheering words. " He will do now, every 
 symptom of danger has disappeared," and 
 though as days passed on, and the invalid 
 seemed to make little progress towards 
 health, the village surgeons (who still at- 
 tended regularly) somewhat disputed the 
 decided opinion of their superior, the little 
 band of anxious watchers were not to be 
 discouraged ; and poor Alick himself was 
 the only one in whose breast hope had not 
 made an abiding place. It might be that 
 his eyes were still too dim to discern this 
 heavenly visitant, or it might be that all 
 his vision was engrossed by the fairy-like 
 figure which, now that he was removed to 
 an invalid couch in a more airy apartment, 
 occasionally smoothed his pillows, and 
 brought him cool drinks, or read to him in 
 a low, gentle voice, when he wassuflSciently 
 free from pain to listen. Certain it was 
 that this, his youngest, nurse possessed greater 
 powers of soothing than any of the others, 
 even than his own good and loving sister 
 Nettia, who evinced no jealousy however at
 
 262 FERKLEY MANOE. 
 
 this very manifest preference, but seemed, 
 on the contrary, to derive the greatest 
 possible pleasure from the circumstance. 
 
 And Edith, the spoiled, wayward, vain, 
 and conquest seeking Edith, was content to 
 lay aside all her woman weaknesses now, 
 and appear in a new and infinitely more 
 attractive character. 
 
 She was content to sit, hour after hour, 
 in that half darkened room, ministering to 
 the amusements of an often capricious, 
 always gloomy invalid, and this while the 
 bright sun was shining gloriously without, 
 and the birds were singing, and the brooks 
 were murmurinec, and nature was rapidly 
 assuming that garb in which she so loved 
 to worship it. But you will say, perhaps, 
 there was no merit in her conduct, since 
 she had been more than half in love with 
 A lick Boisragon before this terrible acci- 
 dent occurred, and that suffering should 
 have the effect of endearing one human 
 being to another, and that where losre ex- 
 ists, there can be no sacrifice.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 263 
 
 Now, mj young friends, I am not going 
 to dispute the justice of your arguments, 
 nor yet to explain, at present, why, in this 
 case, they will not hold good. I shall only 
 assert, that Edith's conduct was not so des- 
 titute of merit, as you may suppose, and 
 that, in my opinion, it certainly deserved 
 to be laid in the scale set apart for deeds 
 of virtue.] 
 
 But the sun went on shining, and the 
 birds went on singing, while the cheeks of 
 Edith and Nettia grew pale as the lilies 
 that were blooming, unnoticed, in the neg- 
 lected garden. So, at last, Sir Stuart 
 Bernarde and Margaret began to exert 
 their authority, and these devotees to the 
 sick room, were driven forth into the pure 
 air, whether they would or no. But, as 
 it was soon discovered that they abridged 
 this very necessary recreation, day by day, 
 the lover and the sister formed the plan of 
 accompanying these obstinate young people 
 in their excursions, while the aunts, and.
 
 264 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 sometimes, even Major Lascelles himself, 
 supplied their places in poor Alick's dark- 
 ened chamber. 
 
 Thus it was, that a friendship had sprung 
 up between Margaret Lascelles and An- 
 toinette Egerton, and though, when they 
 started on their rambles, it was almost 
 always Nettia and her lover who walked 
 side by side, it not unfrequently happened 
 that in returning, the former was seen in 
 earnest conversation with her friend, while 
 the lover was left, with Edith on his arm, 
 to follow slowly in the rear. 
 
 Which of the party were most instru- 
 mental in effecting tliis change, I am not 
 prepared to say ; but I know that the 
 two who had struck up such an apparently 
 sudden friendship, obtained the credit of 
 it, and, of course, this was as it should be. 
 Without doubt, it must have been exceed- 
 ingly tiresome and trying to Sir Stuart 
 Bernarde and Edith, to find themselves 
 thus constantly forced upoil each other;
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 265 
 
 but I can confidently assert, that they 
 made no open complaints, wiiich was very 
 considerate and kind on their parts. 
 
 And all this while, poor, dear Alick, op- 
 pressed by physical suffering, lay on his 
 weary couch, nursing the gloomiest and 
 most unhealthy fancies, and encouraging, 
 feeding on, the most ardent, enthusiastic 
 passion that ever glowed in a human 
 heart. It was the intensity of this devo- 
 tion that caused him, more than anything 
 else, to dwell with such exceeding bitterness 
 on the change his accident had wrought in 
 him. It is quite certain that very serious 
 illnesses will often weaken the strongest 
 minds, and incapacitate them for the 
 smallest of those exertions, which had pre- 
 viously been the very soul of life to them ; 
 but it is equally certain that, unless there 
 remains any vital disease, all this will, iu 
 time, pass away, where there exists an 
 earnest will to expel it. Alick, however, 
 could discern nothing but clouds and dark- 
 VOL. ^ N
 
 266 FERNLEY MANOK. 
 
 ness in the future, for he believed, as you 
 have seen in his own observations to Edith, 
 that a vital disease had been sown, not 
 only in his body, but in his mind ; and it 
 was this unhappy impression that his 
 friends were now labouring so earnestly to 
 efface. 
 
 Margaret was of opinion, that religion 
 alone could effectually accomplish his cure, 
 but Nettia and the aunts imagined it might 
 be effected by a worthy and fortunate at- 
 tachment. Both Sir Stuart and Edith dis- 
 trusted their own judgment, and said very 
 little about the matter ; though they were 
 far from being the least anxious of the 
 party. 
 
 But now that bis progress towards re- 
 covery appeared no longer a subject of 
 doubt, even in the minds of the cautious 
 village surgeons, it was deemed advisable 
 to write to Mrs. Boisragon ; and, guardedly 
 as the communication was made, this good 
 and tender mother could not rest satisfied,
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 267 
 
 or enjoy a moment's peace, till she had seen 
 her son, her youngest and well-beloved 
 one. 
 
 It was the day her arrival was expected, 
 that I have chosen to draw up the curtain, 
 and show you some of the actors in the 
 little drama, part of which I have just been 
 trying to explain to you. I shall now 
 leave you to unravel all the other tangled 
 threads yourself, and, I hope sincerely, the 
 occupation may not prove entirely devoid 
 of interest and amusement. 
 
 N 2
 
 268 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 TWO MEETINGS. 
 
 The meeting between the mother and son 
 was over, but they were still in close and 
 earnest conference in the same apartment, 
 where we have seen Alick in the morning, 
 while Kettia and Edith were strolling to- 
 gether on the beautiful terrace, under the 
 shade of the tall chesnuts ; waiting the 
 arrival of the rest of the party from the 
 cottage.
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 269 
 
 We will walk behind the two young 
 ladies, and listen for awhile to their con- 
 versation. Edith is speaking now. 
 
 "I am really quite miserable at the 
 thoughts of losing you, Nettia, for though 
 you will come often, it is, you know, alto- 
 gether a different thing from having a per- 
 son staying in the same house. I cannot 
 see why your mama's coming should drive 
 you away.'' 
 
 " My dear mother is so fearful of intru- 
 ding — of increasing the debt we already 
 owe you and yours, Edith," replied her 
 companion, '' that she will not hear of our 
 both staying at the same time ; and soon, 
 I ara«8ure, you will rejoice at the exchange 
 — you will love mama, I know, Edith." 
 
 " That I do not doubt ; but 1 have rather 
 a liking for you too, Annie — though I dare- 
 say you are, with your accustomed humility, 
 incredulous of the fact. As for Margaret, 
 she will resemble a flower deprived of the 
 sun's rays, when you are gone — to say
 
 270 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 nothing of Alick, who, perhaps, will miss 
 you more than any of us.'' 
 
 " Ah, Edith, you know, better than I can 
 tell you, that Alick could miss nobody 
 while he still had you with him.'' 
 
 To this, Edith made no reply, but she 
 looked far more annoyed than pleased at 
 the observation, and after a few minutes' 
 pause, Nettia, in rather an embarrassed, 
 hurried, yet very earnest manner, resumed, 
 
 " It may be a long time before we have 
 an opportunity of a private tete-a-tete again, 
 Edith, so I will say now, what has been for 
 some weeks on my mind to say to you — I 
 hope you will not be angry, or think I am 
 taking an unwarrantable liberty, for iadeed 
 my motive is a good one ; and when there 
 is so much at stake, we ought to risk more 
 than in ordinary cases would be advisable.'' 
 
 This was rather a formidable preface to 
 the subject about to be discussed, and it is 
 to be presumed that Edith thought so too, 
 for her colour came and went very rapidly
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 271 
 
 while Nettia was speaking, and that part 
 of the 'terrace they were then traversing 
 was strewn with the leaves of a beautiful 
 monthly rose she had been carrying in her 
 hand. But the moment Miss Egerton came 
 to a pause, her companion, with a slight 
 tincture of haughtiness in her tone, said 
 eagerly, 
 
 " Pray make no apologies for doing what 
 you think your duty — I am all attention/' 
 
 '* Well then, Edith, I have long wished 
 to warn you against being too kind — too 
 gentle — too fascinating, in short — to my 
 poor brother — I am betraying no confidence 
 when I say he loves you, with all the 
 intensity and fervour of his very enthusi- 
 astic nature ; for in the first place, he has 
 never breathed a word to me on the subject, 
 and more than that, it is plain to every 
 one. Now I am quite sure that hitherto 
 your conduct towards him has been actuated 
 by the purest and most disinterested bene- 
 volence, and believe me, I am more grateful 
 to you for this than 1 could ever tell you —
 
 272 FERKLEY MANOR 
 
 but feeling for you as he does at present, 
 every word of gentle kindness is dangerous 
 to him. If Alick is once suffered to hope, 
 and this hope prove a false one, Edith, it 
 is my firm persuasion he will never — never 
 get over it/' 
 
 Miss Egerton had every reason to be 
 satisfied with the patience of her listener, 
 who, strange to say, evinced infinitely less 
 embarrassment at the concluding part, than 
 she had done at the commencement of 
 Nettia's speech, and her reply, though 
 perhaps less satisfactory than the other 
 could have desired, was perfectly calm, and 
 free from hesitation. 
 
 '^ Heaven forbid, Annie, that I should 
 ever mislead any human being in a matter 
 of this kind — least of all your brother.'^ 
 
 " Not intentionally, I am sure, Edith,'* 
 Nettia said again, '* but a person like Alick 
 would be so easily carried away by the 
 warmth of his own feelings. At present 
 I do not believe he cherishes the faintest 
 spark of hope; but if it were once lighted,
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 273 
 
 I know how rapidly it would kindle into a 
 blaze, which would cost his life in extin- 
 guishing.'^ 
 
 Now Edith did her friend a great 
 injustice here, by supposing that Nettia's 
 object, in speaking as she did, was to find 
 out whether she had any warmer feeling 
 than regard towards Alick. Even if this 
 had been the case, there would have been, I 
 think, nothing very extraordinary or repre- 
 hensible in it ; but Edith was highly 
 indignant at what she chose to consider a 
 settled plan for getting at her secrets, and 
 she replied lightly and coldly. 
 
 " Oh ! you do so exaggerate things with 
 your ro:nantic notions. Rest in peace. 
 Your brother's happiness is in no danger 
 through me, I assure you.'' 
 
 Nettia was pained and surprised by this 
 equivocal answer, and she said no more, 
 but Edith had got into a disagreeable, 
 teasing mood; and presently she went on 
 in the same light, careless way. 
 
 " Now that we have begun upon tliis 
 N 5
 
 274 FEKNLEY MANOR. 
 
 subject, Nettia, (Fll be bound you and 
 Margaret would not talk about it for the 
 world) let me ask you, whether you think 
 men or women the most disposed to con- 
 stancy in matters of the heart.'' 
 
 Miss Egerton remained silent for a mo- 
 ment, but on Edith's repetition of the 
 question, she replied quietly — 
 
 ''I am scarcely capable of giving an 
 opinion about the matter, because I have 
 had so very little experience, and seen so 
 very little of the world — but judging from 
 myself I should say inconstancy was almost 
 impossible to a woman, except in the case 
 of discovering unworthiness in the object 
 of her affection." 
 
 "Ah that is charming;" said Edith, in 
 a slightly ironical tone, " but then, unfor- 
 tunately, all women are not like you, Nettia ; 
 so you would be entirely misled in your 
 judgment of human nature, if you took 
 yourself as a specimen. However, we will 
 leave women now, and pass on to the men,
 
 PERNLEY MANOR. 275 
 
 our masters! Does it appear to you that 
 inconstancy is impossible to them?" 
 
 " Again, Editli, I must plead my igno- 
 rance and inexperience; for besides my own 
 brother and Sir Stuart, I have never known 
 half-a-dozen of the other sex intimately." 
 
 *' Well, but even from these you can surely 
 form some opinion — 1 do not of course include 
 Sir Stuart, who, by all the laws of love 
 and sentiment, must be faultless in your 
 eyes." 
 
 A sudden flush rose to Nettia's cheek, 
 and her step grew firmer and prouder as 
 she answered — 
 
 " This is a foolish discussion, Edith, and 
 one, as I have said before, that I am not 
 qualified to enter upon. I think we shall 
 have quite enough to do' if we study our 
 own natures, and leave men to study theirs. 
 But you are wrong in supposing I consider 
 Sir Stuart perfect—however, my own faults 
 are too numerous to allow me much time to 
 seek for those of others." 
 
 '' Well, well, Annie, forgive me for teasing
 
 276 -FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 or trying to tease you '/^ exclaimed Edith, 
 with a sudden fit of repentance, inspired 
 by her good angel, " verily, you are a most 
 excellent creature, and I hope, from the 
 bottom of my own unworthy heart, that 
 you will be as happy and beloved as you 
 deserve to be. And there, as if in answer 
 to my wish, comes one whose mission is to 
 bring you joy and gladness, so now exit 
 the evil genius at the left side, and enter 
 the good one at the right/' 
 
 And before Nettia could say a word to 
 stop her, Edith had leapt from the terrace 
 on to the soft turf below, and was half way 
 across the lawn, ere she turned round to 
 nod and smile at the lovers, who were liow 
 together. 
 
 How few people there are who really 
 know of what their own natures are capable 
 — how few give themselves any trouble to 
 encourage the good impulses, which are 
 constantly, like wandering but beneficent 
 spirits, alighting on human hearts — ^^peti- 
 tioning for admittance, for a home, for a
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 277 
 
 place where they may abide for ever. It 
 is generally admitted as a truth that there 
 are seasons in the lives of men, when their 
 outward or worldly destinies, are peculiarly 
 susceptible of improvement, when a little 
 energy, a little careful vigilance will lead 
 them rapidly on to prosperity. And so it 
 is with the inner destiny of the heart and 
 soul. The angel comes and knocks, some- 
 times even pushes one of his shining wings 
 through an unguarded crevice, lets us see 
 the brightness of his plumage, and offers to 
 become our guest, our friend, our guide till 
 death. Ah I if we have only the grace and 
 the wisdom to take him at his word, to 
 open wide the closed doors of our hearts, 
 to draw in the radiant spirit with words of 
 love and welcome — how well it is with us 
 then. 
 
 But too often we look coldly and strangely 
 upon the wanderer ; we have already made 
 a home for so many of a different nature, 
 with whom we could not now endure to 
 part; this new arrival would only bring
 
 278 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 discord and confusion, and so, with scanty 
 thanks for his visit of love, we bid him be- 
 gone, and trouble us no more. 
 
 it was to wrestle with one of these spirits 
 who had, to spenk the truth, iioixde his ap- 
 pearance as unexpectedly as he was unwished 
 for, that Edith sought out a quiet spot 
 where she could be alone with all the 
 clamouring thoughts, roused into such 
 sudden strife by the angel's knock. And 
 here for the present we will leave her, wish- 
 ing hearty success to the angel ; and return 
 to the lovers on the terrace. 
 
 '^ So it seems I have frightened away 
 your companion," was the salutation of Sir 
 Stuart, spoken in that tone of pique, which 
 the most sensible man breathing cannot 
 avoid, when his vanity has received the 
 slightest wound. 
 
 Nettia had greater command over her- 
 self (for we must not suppose she was really 
 indifferent to this unlover-like greeting), 
 and replied calmly, though her lips were a 
 little pale —
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 279 
 
 *' I should scarcely think that fear had 
 anything to do with EJith^s sudden depar- 
 ture — but where are my aunts? did you 
 arrive alone?" 
 
 " Yes!'"' answered the gentleman, shaking 
 off his momentary chagrin. '' I was anxi- 
 ous to know how Alick had borne the meet- 
 ing with his mother." 
 
 " And have you seen him and mama?'' 
 
 *' 1 come from them now. Mrs. Boisra- 
 gon appears greatly agitated, but Alick 
 looks better than he has done yet, calmer 
 and happier. The Major and Miss Lascelles 
 have just joined them, and I was deputed 
 to bring in you and your young friend — 
 Will you come, Annie ?" 
 
 As Sir Stuart spoke, he passed his arm 
 round Nettia's waist, and his look and 
 manner resumed much of their wonted 
 tenderness; but though his attentions were 
 not repulsed, they did not appear to excite 
 any of that emotion which brightens the 
 eye, and mantles iu the cheek, and imparts 
 to the whole countenance a glow of beaming
 
 280 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 joy. On the contrary, Nettia^s face wore a 
 sadder and more thoughtful expression than 
 usual, and gently disengaging herself, after 
 a few minutes, from Stuart's encircling arm, 
 she said, without looking at her lover — 
 
 " I will go in at once, but I think you 
 had better fiud Edith, and tell her we are 
 all assembling now — She went straight 
 across the lawn towards the new planta- 
 tion. '^ 
 
 Whether this mission was an agreeable 
 one or the reverse to Sir Stuart, Nettia did 
 not take any pains to discover. Without 
 even turning round to ascertain if he had 
 obeyed her, she walked quickly along the 
 terrace, and entered at the glass door of 
 her brother's room, just as her aunts and 
 uncle had made their appearance through 
 the other. 
 
 In the meantime Sir Stuart Beruarde, 
 after watching her retreating figure for a few 
 minutes with his brows contracted, and the 
 natural gravity of his countenance con- 
 verted into positive gloom, turned away in
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 2«1 
 
 an opposite direction, and began his search 
 for Miss Lascelles. 
 
 It was not a long one. Pacing rapidly 
 up and down a thick avenue of newly 
 planted cedars, the young lady was dis- 
 covered ; but so interesting were her own 
 thoughts, or so dormant her outward senses, 
 that she neither saw nor heard Sir Stuart, 
 until he stood within a few paces of the 
 spot where she had come to a momentary 
 halt, and his voice broke the stillness of 
 that solitude, which the cawing rooks alone 
 had disturbed before. 
 
 *' I have been sent to look for you,'' he 
 said, in the coldest and most indifferent 
 tone you can possibly imagine. " It is 
 getting chilly now; and they are all expect- 
 ing you in doors.'' 
 
 Edith was evidently quite unprepared for 
 this intrusion, for the blood rushed to her 
 face, then suddenly retreated, as Sir Stuart 
 spoke ; and it was some seconds before she 
 hadregained sufficient command over herself
 
 282 FERNLEY MAKOR. 
 
 to make any reply. At length she said, 
 with a forced and uncertain smile — 
 
 " Good evening, Sir Stuart, for I have 
 not forgotten that this is our first meeting 
 to-day, which I suppose from your manner 
 is the case with yourself/' 
 
 The gentleman now looked discomposed 
 and embarrassed in his turn. 
 
 " It is true,'' he said, " that I had for- 
 gotten when I saw you last, and to this you 
 must attribute my unceremonious address. 
 Will you take my arm ?" 
 
 '' Oh, no !" replied Edith, becoming more 
 at her ease, " let us dispense with ceremony 
 altogether. Where is Annie?" 
 
 " She is gone in." 
 
 " We shall be quite a large party, to- 
 night?" 
 
 "We shall, indeed." 
 
 " I hope it will not be too exciting for 
 Alick." 
 
 " Indeed, I hope not." 
 
 '* How cold and damp the air begins to 
 feel."
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 283 
 
 " Yes, I fear so ; and you have no 
 shawl." 
 
 " I seldom take cold. I have a consti- 
 tution of iron/' 
 
 Sir Stuart either could not think of any- 
 thing to say in reply to this, or his thoughts 
 were beginning to wander — for now a pro- 
 found silence prevailed until they were 
 within a few yards of the house, and 
 then, suddenly turning to his companion, 
 he said, 
 
 " You have not forgotten your promise of 
 singing this evening?" 
 
 And Edith answered — 
 
 " No — Alick reckons on it so en tire! v, 
 that I would not, for the world, disappoint 
 him/' 
 
 " Alick — yes — but was not the promise 
 made to meP 
 
 " Oh ! it might have been to you too — 
 but the one I was thinking of, was made to 
 Alick.'' 
 
 There was no reply to thi> — not a word, 
 not a look — but when Edith, who was get-
 
 284 FBRNLEY MANOR. 
 
 ting a little in advance of her companion, 
 reached the door they were to enter at, and 
 turned round to allow him the privilege of 
 opening it for her, she discovered that she 
 was alone.
 
 FERKLET MANOE. 285 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE invalid's PARTY. 
 
 *' I SENT Stuart to look for you," said Net- 
 tia, as soon as she had an opportunity of 
 speaking apart to Edith, " did you not meet 
 him on the lawn?" 
 
 " No — he found me in the plantation, 
 and we returned together. I missed him 
 suddenly on the terrace, so I presume he 
 is staying behind to gaze at the moon. 
 Go to him, Annie, and bring him in to 
 tea."
 
 286 FEENLEY MANOR. 
 
 Whether this advice would have been 
 followed, had Nettia's judgment stood 
 alone in the matter, I cannot pretend to 
 say, but Mrs. Boisragon, having overheard 
 Edith's explanation, turned in some sur- 
 prise, to look at her daughter, who, rather 
 than endure her fond mother's anxious 
 scrutiny, at that particular moment, rose 
 quickly and went out of the room, while 
 Edith took her place between Alick and 
 Margaret, Mrs. Boisragon being seated on 
 the other side of her son. 
 
 The invalid, whose spirits had so long 
 resisted every effort of his friends to cheer 
 them, was scarcely recognizable this even- 
 ing; and, instead of requiring amusement 
 himself, he it was, who formed the life of 
 the party; enchanting those who knew 
 and loved him, and rousing even Major 
 Lascelles from his usual apathy into a 
 pleased, though silent, attention. As for the 
 three Cargills, they were positively over- 
 come, at what appeared to them, such a 
 sudden and miraculous change ; and the
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 287 
 
 youngest sister whispered to her brother, 
 that it was her firm belief that Miss Edith 
 Lascelles had consented to marry their 
 darling nephew ; and that there would be 
 two weddings in the family at the same 
 time/' 
 
 '' I should think, Eliza, that Mrs. Boisra- 
 gon's presence would be quite sufficient to 
 account for Alick's charming spirits," re- 
 plied Mr. Simeon, who was suspected, with 
 some reason, of having, in days gone by, 
 made his quiet, handsome cousin, the lonely 
 star of his idolatry. 
 
 " Well, we shall see who's right,'' said 
 again Miss Eliza. " For my own part, 
 I've always had my dreams on this sub- 
 ject !" 
 
 Margaret L iscelles was already seated at 
 the tea-table, when Sir Stuart Bernarde 
 came in thoughtfully and alone. 
 
 " Where is my Nettia ?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Boisragon, quickly; "she went to seek you, 
 Sir Stuart." 
 
 %
 
 288 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 *' Did she V^ he replied, glancing rapidly 
 round the room; and then sitting down 
 by the taciturn major. *' That is unfor- 
 tunate; for I have not seen her or any 
 one, since I left Miss Lascelles on the ter- 
 race/' 
 
 The mother watched her future son-in- 
 law narrowly while he spoke ; her pale 
 cheek even flushed a little with some 
 thought that had suddenly arisen in her. 
 mind ; and when Sir Stuart turned to make 
 an observation to Major Lascelles, Mrs. Bois- 
 ragon directed her earnest, penetrating 
 gaze towards Edith, with whom she had 
 recently been conversing. And Edith was 
 very watchful too; and she read clearly in 
 the hearts of many of the assembled party. 
 She saw distinctly that miscaief had been 
 wrought — that the '* golden fruit " had been 
 cast upon the board — and she needed not 
 to ask herself by whom'? For once, how- 
 ever, it seemed that the angel had wrestled 
 successfully — that the good had triumphed 
 
 r
 
 FEKNLEY MANOR. 289 
 
 for awhile over the evil in this ill-disciplined 
 heart — otherwise, the smile that met Mrs. 
 Boisragon's almost severely enquiring 
 glance could scarcely have been so full 
 of gentleness and calm self-approbation as 
 it was. 
 
 " Upon my word, we are a regular hide- 
 and-seek party,'' she said, with well assum- 
 ed, if not real, animation. " I will go and 
 fetch Annie now, Mrs. Boisragon; and then, 
 I think, we had better lock the doors, 
 that there may be no more escapes to- 
 night !'' 
 
 There must, certainly, be some sort of 
 freemasonry between young, unmarried 
 women — for they have (I mean the intelli- 
 gent amongst them) a wonderful facility in 
 getting at each other's secrets — and where 
 the cleverest man in the world would grope 
 about darkly, for an indefinite time — 
 and, perhaps, even in the end, fail in reach- 
 ing the light, a young girl will walk straight 
 to it, as easily as if she held a well- trim- 
 med lamp in her hand. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 290 FEENLEY MAKOE. 
 
 Thus it was, I suppose, that Edith, in- 
 stead of seeking Miss Egerton in the now 
 moon-lighted gardens, whither she was sup- 
 posed to have gone, went, at once, to the 
 young lady's own room, and found her 
 seated by an open window, in an attitude 
 that told plainly of that dejection of the 
 heart which costs the suflPerer such infinite 
 difiiculty to conceal. 
 
 " Come Annie, dear," said Edith, stand- 
 ing only in the doorway, '' those waving 
 trees are very pretty and picturesque in the 
 moonlight; but Sir Stuart must not frighten 
 himself into a nervous fever on that account. 
 lie begged me to find you and bring you 
 down-stairs immediately." 
 
 Nettia started and looked, first, in- 
 credulously at the intruder ; but being her- 
 self the very soul of truth — and seeing no 
 confusion in Edith's face, she smiled through 
 the tears, that no heroism had been able to 
 restrain, and said she would come at 
 once. 
 
 Then Edith passed her arm caressingly
 
 FEENLEY MANOR. 29 I 
 
 round the waist of her good, unsuspicious 
 friend, find whispering, in a half-playful, 
 half-mysterious, way, 
 
 *' We are all goiug to be so happy, now," 
 drew her gently down stairs, and into the 
 room where Sir Stuart still sat moodily by 
 the side of Major Lascelles ; and Alick 
 talked and laughed for the entertainment of 
 the whole party. 
 
 It might have struck Nettia that, consi- 
 dering her lover's imputed anxiety con- 
 cerning her absence, he manifested won- 
 drously little satisfaction in her presence — 
 for he, made no attempt to change his seat 
 when she came in, and only smiled faintly 
 at both the young ladies ; but Miss Egerton 
 was, as I huve told you before, one of the 
 most modest individuals in the whole world 
 — and she was never on the watch — as so 
 many of her sex most unwisely are — for 
 those petty slights and negligences on the 
 part of others, to which all must occasionally 
 be subjected. It was quite enough for her 
 2
 
 292 FERNLEY MAKOE. 
 
 to believe that Sir Stuart had been anxious 
 — and, indeed, after the restless state her 
 mind had been in for some time past, this 
 conviction was positive happiness to her. 
 Mrs. Boisragon, good, tender mother that 
 she was, looked smilingly now on both her 
 children ; and persuaded herself that Sir 
 Stuart's moodiness was but a passing cloud, 
 which Nettia's smiles would easily dispel. 
 
 Another charm, however, is to be tried 
 at present. Alick's earnest entreaties can- 
 not be resisted — silence is proclaimed 
 throughout theroom, and Edith's voice thrills 
 to the very hearts of nearly all her listeners. 
 At first, it was a wild Italian melody, rapid, 
 passionate, and exciting — then, without 
 pausing to hear the praises that it was so 
 easy to read in every eager face, she ran 
 her fingers through a brilliant prelude, and 
 when the scarcely breathing audience anti- 
 cipated something even more sparkling and 
 animated than the last — commenced, in tones 
 of unimaginable sweetness and melancholy,
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 293 
 
 those exquisite words of our most gifted 
 English poetess, " Love Not." 
 
 Perhaps this was an unwise selection — 
 some might even have thought it a cruel 
 one, when they saw the effect produced on 
 two or three of that little party by the 
 plaintive melody, and its admirably adapted 
 words; but Edith sang on, unconscious 
 apparentlyof the various emotions she had 
 called into life, and intent only on affording 
 the pleasure of a moment. 
 
 When this song was finished, she left the 
 piano, and went and seated herself near 
 Major Lascelles, who was dreaming again 
 of his lost Emily, and of the many strange 
 events of his chequered life, that the 
 magic of sound had summoned in phantom 
 guise before him. But the old man was 
 not the only one who had yielded to music's 
 mysterious spell, and to whom the present 
 was but as a hazy mist, through which the 
 past revealed itself with formidable dis- 
 tinctness. Sir Stuart Bernarde was no 
 longer absent or moody, for his cheek was
 
 294 FERI^LEY MANOR. 
 
 flushed, and his pale eye bright, and he 
 had sought the side of his grave and gentle 
 Annie, though his gaze remained rivetted, 
 as if by some powerful fascination, on her 
 who had sung * those witching strains.'^ 
 
 As for Alick, he seemed positively under 
 the spell of enchantment, and if, instead 
 of Edith Lascelles, St. Cecilia herself had 
 come down to surprise and electrify him 
 with her heavenly strains, he could not have 
 testified more gratitude, or more deep and 
 reverential admiration. 
 
 '* Mother, it is an angel \" he exclaimed, 
 in the passionate excitement of the moment; 
 and as the mother clasped his burning 
 hand, and looked into his kindling eyes, 
 she prayed silently that this angel might 
 not prove a destroying one to the child of 
 her unutterable love. 
 
 As nobody appeared disposed to resume 
 the light style of conversation that had 
 been going on before, (all being, more or 
 less, affected by Edith^s melancholy song) 
 the party soon after this separated. Some
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 295 
 
 to repose peacefully, and dream of the 
 morrow's quiet duties or enjoyments ; and 
 others to toss restlessly on their weary 
 beds, exhausting themselves in vain con- 
 jectures as to their future fate, and to 
 dream, if they could sleep at all, of the 
 storms they would have to encounter, ere 
 their feet could touch the blessed shores of 
 contentment, and their tired eyelids open 
 upon unclouded skies.
 
 296 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 A lady's proposal. 
 
 Two scenes took place on the morrow, 
 •which, whether the results of the previous 
 night's reflections, or of more matured 
 resolutions, greatly affected the destinies of 
 those engaged in them. In the first, there 
 were but two actors — Sir Stuart Bernarde, 
 and A lick Boisragon. 
 
 The former rode over to see his cousin 
 at a much earlier hour than usual ; but 
 there was no difficulty about gaining admit-
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 297 
 
 tance ; and A lick, very pale and exhausted 
 from his recent excitement, and a sleepless 
 night, received his cousin with a smile that 
 mocked itself. 
 
 " You are worse to-day, my poor fellow," 
 began the early guest, sitting down near 
 the bed, and looking earnestly at his young 
 relative — " and you never can get well till 
 your mind gives over these feverish strug- 
 gles, which are destroying the little life 
 your illness has left in you. There are 
 some things which seem foolish when spoken 
 of between man and man ; but that which 
 affects the moral and physical health of any 
 human being becomes a serious matter, 
 however regarded in the world. Now I 
 don't want to pry into your secrets, or to 
 extort a single confession — but Alick, old 
 boy, take my urgent and most friendly 
 counsel. — Ask Edith Lascelles to be your 
 wife, and let her nurse you, and sing to 
 you, and sit by your fire-side and make 
 you happy." 
 
 Could any language express the wild 
 5
 
 298 FERKLEY MANOR. 
 
 rush of emotions that swept over poor 
 Alick's soul while listening to his cousin's 
 most unexpected and most startling speech, 
 or could any pencil paint the lightning 
 changes of that most speaking countenance 
 when the pause came, and he tried to gather 
 into a comprehensive form what had been 
 so rapidly and abruptly uttered. Far 
 easier it would be to catch the look of cold, 
 steady determination, that marked the 
 aspect of the elder cousin, as he turned 
 away to watch the buzzing flies outside the 
 sunny window, while Alick reflected upon 
 his words. At last an unconnected, nervous, 
 scarcely audible answer came. 
 
 '' It is a madness of my poor feeble brain 
 — a continuation of one of those torturing 
 dreams. But no, no, I am awake^ and 
 you have been mocking my foolish, foolish, 
 passion for an angel ; or, if not, you must 
 be dreaming too — Stuart, what can you 
 mean T^ 
 
 Quietly, soberly, and yet more seriously 
 than before, Sir Stuart repeated what he
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 299 
 
 had said, and at length Alick was brought 
 to comprehend and even to argue upon it, 
 if argument it could be called, which con- 
 sisted of vehement denials of the very 
 possibility of his ever attaining to the hap- 
 piness his companion exhorted him to 
 wrestle for. It was thus they went on. 
 
 '' But you admit, Alick, that my plan, if 
 it prove successful, would bring you health 
 and happiness." 
 
 '' Ask a man whose lips are parched and 
 blackened from thirst, if clear, sparkling 
 water would give him ease." 
 
 '' Then surely, surely, it must be worth 
 a trial. Women should be wooed before 
 they are won.'' 
 
 *' But look at me — could I ask her who 
 might draw the whole world to her feet, to 
 come and share poverty, obscurity, and 
 perhaps sickness with me ? Could I suy 
 — leave all the triumphs that are in store 
 for you, renounce all the sweet dreams of 
 your beautiful youth, and convert yourself 
 into the wife of a man whom disease has
 
 300 PERNLEY HANOI?. 
 
 brought to the very threshold of the tomb, 
 whose mind as well as his body, is enfeebled 
 and confused from suffering, who has 
 nothing but an insane love to offer for all 
 that you will bestow, in bestowing yourself 
 upon him — No, no, urge anything but this, 
 Stuart, and I will admit its reason." 
 
 " I will not give up even yet, for I have 
 both reason and wisdom on my side. If 
 there would be any reality in the sacrifice 
 you talk of, so much the better for my 
 case. Women of imaginative minds like 
 the idea of renouncing the pomps and 
 vanities of the world for us unworthy men 
 — the thought that they have done so, 
 endears us to them — they are such fond 
 and clinging, yet capricious and mysterious 
 creatures. Take courage then and offer 
 yourself to her at once. If she says yes, 
 every difficulty will be conquered, for no 
 one belonging to her resists the determined 
 will enshrined in that slightest of mortal 
 frames.'* 
 
 " But again, I have no home to offer her,
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 301 
 
 no profession even, no certain means of ever 
 possessing a shilling I can call my own. 
 Do not shut your eyes to the utter madness 
 of what you have been suggesting." 
 
 " Alick, my boy, have I not always looked 
 upon you as a younger brother or a son, 
 and is there not sufficient out of my abun- 
 dance to give you a home and a profession, 
 and whatever you may consider necessary 
 to put you on a par, as regards worldly 
 circumstances, with the daughter of Major 
 Lascelles. My good little Annie will never 
 miss that which adds to her brother's com- 
 fort and happiness." 
 
 " Stuart, your generosity is not new to 
 me, but I should despise myself did I 
 dream for one moment of taking advantage 
 of it. No, no, I would work, toil, slave, 
 while a drop of blood yet flowed in my 
 veins; nay, any man would do that for a 
 woman he loved — but I would do it joy- 
 fully, and iu a tenfold degree — I would 
 submit to every hardship, every privatiou, 
 every species of servitude for an indefinite
 
 302 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 number of years to win Edith Lascelles — 
 but I could not go to her enriched with 
 another man's wealth, and say ' Take me, 
 and let us live in the home a friend's charity 
 has provided for us.' " 
 
 " My dear fellow, these scruples are only 
 the results of human pride, which incites 
 men to the rash resolve of building up their 
 own temple of fortune, even if the found- 
 ation stones must be formed of their flesh 
 and blood. But have your own way when 
 your health is restored. Edith will not 
 love you less, because you have a fancy 
 for sacrificing youth and strength and life 
 at the shrine of independence." 
 
 " Now, Stuart, you are becoming cynical, 
 so let us give over this discussion for the 
 present. 1 will reflect upon all you have 
 urged, and communicate to you the result 
 of my meditations; but whatever these 
 may be, I thank you heartily, for 1 feel 
 deeply the interest you have shewn in my 
 happiness." 
 
 Soon after this the cousins parted; and
 
 PERNLEY MANOR. 303 
 
 while Alick abandoned himself to all the 
 sweet and intoxicating fancies the recent 
 conversation had necessarily inspired, Sir 
 Stuart rode slowly to his solitary home, 
 holding his head as loftily as if he had come 
 from conquering a whole legion of mortal 
 foes. But the proud man thought, and 
 perhaps he was not greatly wrong, that he 
 had this morning achieved a victory which 
 had crowned him with blighter laurels 
 than any he could win in the battle field, 
 and which had cost him more than he 
 should ever in all his future life be called 
 upon to pay again. 
 
 The second scene to which I have al- 
 luded took place at a later hour of the day, 
 and of this the dra??infi.s personrpyfereEdhh 
 and Alick — poor Alick, who had already 
 gone through such an exciting interview 
 in the morning. 
 
 These two were again alone together, as 
 on the previous day, Edith having per- 
 suaded Mrs. Boisragon to take a short walk 
 with Margaret, while she herself remained
 
 304 PERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 to amuse the invalid. Thej had been 
 reading a novel that had just arrived with 
 other books from London, and Alick, whose 
 thoughts had been with Edith far more 
 than with the heroine of the romance, was 
 suddenly startled by his companion laying 
 down the book and saying in a low, earnest 
 voice — 
 
 *' Do you really believe that love is the 
 greatest blessing of life?" 
 
 Gracious powers, how wildly his heart 
 began to beat and his face to glow, at this 
 unexpected and abrupt question, which 
 made him fancy for a moment that his 
 whole soul was open to her who sat beside 
 him — the sweet object of his yet concealed 
 adoration, the beautiful syren before whom 
 his heart, mind, spirit, and every faculty 
 of his ardent nature bowed in enthusiastic 
 worship. 
 
 " Oh it is far more than this," he said 
 at last with uncontrollable excitement. 
 " It is paradise itself come down into our 
 hearts, it is the realization of every hope,
 
 FERNLEY MANOR. 305 
 
 the fruition of every desire, it is the very 
 essence of that bliss which our whole lives 
 are spent in seeking — it is the pearl of 
 great price, the el dorado of the soul — 
 language cannot express its worth, its 
 blessedness, its infinite and inconceivable 
 sweetness — oh, Edith, your looks say that 
 I am raving ; but women know nothing of 
 such love — " 
 
 "And you, Alick?" said Edith, shading 
 her face with the book she still held, " has 
 your experience been so large — can you, 
 at your age, have made such intimate ac- 
 quaintance with this mysterious enchanter, 
 to whom you have given so many compli- 
 mentary names? or do you speak from what 
 you have heard?" 
 
 " Of mutual love I have had no experi- 
 ence," replied Alick, with the courage of 
 desperation, " but I can imagine what it 
 would be from — " 
 
 "From what, Alick?" 
 
 And Edith put down her book, and 
 kneeling by the sofa, raised her sweet,
 
 306 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 earnest, and now blushing face, to meet the 
 almost enraptured gaze that was bent upon 
 it, while, in her pretty, childlike manner, 
 she laid the small, fair hand (still dis- 
 figured with the scratches of the hawthorn 
 bough) on the trembling arm of her com- 
 panion. 
 
 "From what, Alick?" 
 
 At the repetition of this question, so 
 timidly and 3oftly uttered, the young man 
 could no longer restrain the impetuosity of 
 his emotions, or subdue the wild impulse 
 that urged him to lay bare the heart that 
 had so long endured its miseries in silence. 
 And really had the obstacles to his hopes 
 been a thousandfold greater than they 
 were, it was not in flesh and blood to look 
 calmly and coldly upon that kneeling 
 figure, wherein every grace and charm 
 of womanhood were, at that moment, 
 united. 
 
 " Edith," he said, while a perfect storm 
 of intense emotion shook his whole frame —
 
 FERNLEY MANOE. 307 
 
 " Edith, you have forced it from me, and 
 now, come life or death, come eternal joy, 
 or everlasting woe, I must and will tell you, 
 how fondly, wildly, madly 1 love you — you, 
 the first who has ever touched my heart — 
 the last, the only one to whom that heart 
 will ever bow. I have cherished no hopes, 
 I have dreamt no beautiful dreams, my 
 passion has had nothing but its own fires 
 to feed upon, and they are rapidly con- 
 suming my life, and withering up every 
 mental power. I do not ask you to give 
 me hope, the very thought is madness, for 
 what have I to offer? And though I should 
 not hesitate sacrificing my salvation to 
 procure happiness for you, there is no merit 
 in this, Edith, since the love I feel absorbs 
 every other passion of my mortal nature. 
 My sole consolation is in the idea that my 
 death will prove to you the extent of the 
 devotion you have inspired; and I would 
 that I had twenty lives to sacrifice at the 
 same altar."
 
 308 FERKLBY MANOR. 
 
 Completely overcome by the excitement 
 that had carried him thus far, Alick paused 
 now, and leant back, pale and utterly de- 
 jected, on his sofa. Then, Edith, still 
 kneeling, still looking up earnestly into his 
 face, still with the bright blush coming and 
 going upon her own, said rapidly and 
 eagerly — 
 
 '' Dear Alick, if you really love me 
 so, why don't you ask me to be your 
 wifer 
 
 Was he dreaming? was he mad? had in- 
 sanity come at last in the shape of this 
 strong delusion of the senses — or had she, 
 the peerless angel of his imagination, in- 
 deed uttered words, whose import was to 
 raise him to the seventh heaven of bliss, to 
 transform all the gathering gloom and dark- 
 ness of his life into the most rapturous joy 
 and gladness. 
 
 "Edith — you are not mocking me?" 
 
 There was something so indescribably 
 plaintive in his voice and look, as he put
 
 FENRLEY MANOR. 309 
 
 til is question, that the tears started to 
 Edith^s eves, and placing her hand in his 
 hand, she said, with genuine warmth and 
 tenderness — 
 
 " Heaven forbid, Alick. No, I am more 
 serious than ever I was in my life, and 
 though in offering myself to you, as I have 
 done, I know that I am overstepping the 
 boundary line of modesty and feminine 
 dignity, I believe these transgressions are 
 justified by the circumstances of the case ; 
 and I repeat, that if you will take me, 
 with all my faults and imperfections — if 
 you conscientiouslij believe tliat I can make 
 you happy, then I will be your wife, and try 
 to justify, in some measure, the far too 
 favourable opinion you have formed of 
 me." 
 
 The whole thing was so sudden and 
 overwhelming to Alick, that, even yet, he 
 could not believe in its reality — he could 
 only see the obstacles that yet existed to 
 the accomplishment of his dearest hopes
 
 4^ 
 
 310 FERKLEY MANOR. 
 
 and wishes. In a strangely excited and 
 nervous manner he went on — 
 
 " ]5ut, Edith, beloved, kind, pitying angel 
 that you are, I dare not conceal from you 
 the extent of the sacrifice you propose 
 making. I am penniless, I have as yet no 
 profession, the entire restoration of my 
 health is doubtful. I have no home to 
 take you to — it would be deemed madness 
 were you to link your fate with mine — 
 your father would never consent, your 
 sister would loathe my very name, you 
 yourself, when it was once accomplished, 
 would bitterly repent the heavenly 
 generosity that, in a moment of enthusiasm, 
 had tempted you to the fatal step. No, 
 no, my heart will bless you evermore 
 for this goodness — but it must not, it can- 
 not be.'' 
 
 *' Listen, Alick," said Edith, now almost 
 as nervous and excited as her companion. 
 *• I have not been tempted to this in a mo- 
 ment of enthusiasm, and if you are happy,
 
 FEPxNLEY MANOR. 311 
 
 I never shall, I never can repent it. Your 
 poverty and want of a profession, far from 
 being obstacles, will greatly favour our 
 union — Papa would die were I to leave him, 
 so we can all live together here, until his 
 death, when I shall have enough and more 
 than enough for us both. As for Mar- 
 garet you know she already loves you as a 
 brother, and her only anxiety is for my 
 happiness. Now are you satisfied, or must 
 I urge anything further to induce you 
 to accept the hand I have so freely 
 offered?" 
 
 It would be far beyond the power of lan- 
 guage to express the beaming, rapturous 
 joy that shone on Alick's • face as Edith 
 finished speaking. It seemed as if Paradise 
 had indeed come down into his heart, and I 
 believe no mortal woman could have re- 
 mained insensible to the delight of inspiring 
 such transcendent happiness. 
 
 Edith's whole soul was touclied, her whole 
 nature subdued, and when Alick, with an
 
 312 FERNLEY MANOR. 
 
 accepted lover's privilege, clasped her in 
 his arms, and murmured words of passionate 
 fondness, she smiled upon him through her 
 thickly falling tears, and assured him that 
 she too was very, very happy. 
 
 E^'D OF YOL. I. 
 
 T. C. Newby, Printer, 30, Welbeck-street, Cavendish-sq.