LI E) R.AFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 v.l 
 

 6- 
 
 cO 
 
CHARLIE. 
 
 A WAIF'S HIS TOR F, 
 TOLD BY HIMSELF. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. WOODWARD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 " MERTONSVILLE PARK," "EDITH VIVIAN'S EXPERIENCE OF THE 
 
 WORLD," "WILL SHE BE HAPPY?" "ELLEN CLINTON," 
 
 " MR. FAVERSHAM'S NEW YEAR'S GUEST," 
 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 SAMUEL TINSLEY & CO., 
 
 31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND. 
 
 1880. 
 [All Rights Reserved.'] 
 

 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. WHAT THE STORM BROUGHT FORTH - - 1 
 
 II. A SUCCESSFUL PLUNGE - - - - 21 
 
 IIL HORS DE COMBAT ----- 40 
 
 IV. RECOVERY ------- 65 
 
 V. BEREFT ------- 84 
 
 VI. CHANGES - - - - - - - 103 
 
 VIL PERSECUTION - - - - - - 123 
 
 VIII. PERPLEXITY - - - - - - 143 
 
 IX. A GENEROUS OFFER MADE AND ACCEPTED - 165 
 
 X. GUIDE, PHILOSOPHER, AND FRIEND - - 182 
 
 XL MY SECOND VACATION . - - . 204 
 
 XII. FIRST THOUGHTS ARE NOT ALWAYS BEST 226 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 httpV/www.archive.org/details/charliewaifshistOlwood 
 
CHARLIE. 
 
 -J>®<C 
 
 CHxlPTER I. 
 
 WHAT THE STORM BROUGHT FORTH. 
 
 "My guide took suddenly hold of me, as a mother 
 who is awoke by some noise, and seeing the flames 
 lighted near her, seizes her child and takes to flight, 
 caring less for herself than for him." 
 
 "Leaves have their time to fall, 
 
 And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, 
 
 And stars to set ; but all 
 
 Thou hast all seasons for thine own, Death !" 
 
 Of my infancy I can say but little — 
 nothing, perhaps, would be a more suitable 
 word. 
 
 Where I was born, or when, or under 
 what circumstances, must for ever remain 
 
 VOL. I. 1 
 
2 Charlie. 
 
 shrouded in mystery, one of those deep 
 dark problems which will never be solved 
 on this side the srrave — never be known or 
 understood so lono- as we see thinofs thus 
 dimly and through a glass, often mistaking 
 the shadowy for the real and the false for 
 the true, ignorantly choosing the evil and re- 
 fusing the good, calling darkness light and 
 bitter sweet, knowing little (and caring less) 
 of all those strange mysterious providences 
 which are taking place before our very eyes — 
 the why and the wherefore of those curious 
 inexplicable dealings which aj)peal more or 
 less to our senses and sympathies, and, unless 
 we wilfully shut our eyes to the fact, make 
 us realise, at least to a certain extent, that 
 there is another and higher existence — a 
 wonderful presence-chamber to be entered, 
 where, the shadows having all fled, we shall 
 see clearly, know as we are known, and be 
 introduced, at once and for ever, into that 
 region of perfect and unending security 
 where earth's '^ mists and vapours " shall be 
 exchanged for the solid God-given brightness 
 of another and far happier sphere, where 
 there is, and can be, no doubt or peradven- 
 ture, nothing to mar the harmony of a per- 
 
What the Storm Brought For tit. 3 
 
 feet life — a full and entire comprehension ! 
 The eyes of our understanding being opened, 
 we shall see face to face, and eye to eye — no 
 mystery too unfathomable, no height too, 
 great, no depth too profound, all being 
 clear as the sunlight, charged with an ever- 
 lasting radiance beside which earth's shadows 
 will for ever '' flee away." 
 
 The very utmost I could at any time learn 
 from those who might be supposed to know 
 at least something of my early history was 
 this : 
 
 One bleak November afternoon, just as it 
 was beginning to grow dusk, Mrs. Joyce, 
 who occupied a semi-detached cottage at the 
 extreme end of the small fishing village of 
 Saltsea — which, as everyone who happens to 
 be acquainted with that particular part of 
 the country knows, is situated about twelve 
 miles from the ancient cathedral town of 
 Middlebury — went to look out of her 
 window. 
 
 She was momentarily expecting her hus- 
 band ; and as his constitution was rather a 
 delicate one, she felt a vague sense of un- 
 easiness as she witnessed the furious storm 
 which just then came pelting down, fearing 
 
 1—2 
 
4 Chrtrlie. 
 
 lest he might suffer from the exposure and 
 be laid up, as had been the case on more 
 than one previous occasion, with a serious 
 attack of illness in consequence. 
 
 While she was anxiously speculating upon 
 the probable chances of his having bethought 
 himself of taking shelter on his way from 
 the square red-brick building which was the 
 scene of his daily labours — he held the 
 arduous post of village schoolmaster — and 
 in this way escaping the keenest edge of the 
 cutting blast, her attention was suddenly 
 arrested by a female figure, which came 
 hurrying along as fast as the battling ele- 
 ments would allow her, carrying in her arms 
 a burden beneath whose weight her slight 
 frame seemed to stagger and well-nigh give 
 way. 
 
 This burden was neither more nor less 
 than myself, a pale-faced, dark-eyed boy, 
 aged apparently about two years. 
 
 My mother, for such the frail, girlish-look- 
 ing stranger undoubtedly was, paused for a 
 moment on reaching the little white-painted 
 garden-gate leading up to Mrs. Joyce's cot- 
 tage, and cast a hasty, beseeching glance at 
 +he window, as if mutely asking for shelter. 
 
What the Storm Brought Forth. 5 
 
 A few seconds later the cottage-door was 
 thrown hospitably open, and the new-comer 
 invited to take a seat at the fire. Mechani- 
 cally, and without a word, she sank down in 
 the leather- covered easy-chair which her 
 good-natured hostess brought forward, and 
 after fixins^ one long: earnest g^aze at the 
 woman's kindl}^ face, she shut her eyes and 
 lay back with a white, pain-drawn expression, 
 and a gasping sound, between a sigh and a 
 sob. 
 
 '* Poor thing ! you are wet through !" said 
 Mrs. Joyce, eyeing her with a compassionate 
 glance, as she softly touched the sleeve of her 
 dress. " I will go and get you a change of 
 clothes; and then, while your own are drying, 
 you can drink a cup of tea." 
 
 Thus saying, she bustled away, and pre- 
 sently returned with sundry garments belong- 
 ing to herself, in which she essayed to array 
 her unexpected guest. 
 
 Her good offices in this respect were, how- 
 ever, quite thrown away ; for the stranger 
 seemed utterly incapable of rendering the 
 least assistance, and did not even open her 
 eyes, the long black lashes of which made 
 her colourless face look even more white and 
 
6 Charlie. 
 
 ghastly than before, and ahuost frightened 
 Mrs. Joyce by its still and death-like appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Once only did slie rouse herself, and that 
 was when the anxious woman tried to relieve 
 her from the unnecessary burden (jf myself, 
 whom she still ke^^t closely clasped in her 
 arms. 
 
 Then she gave a sudden start, and fixing a 
 pair of melancholy dark eyes upon Mrs. 
 Joyce's face, said piteously : 
 
 " Do not take him away from me I I 
 cannot give him up. Oh ! Charlie, my boy, 
 my darling I I will never give you up — no, 
 never !" 
 
 Some intensely agitating ideas were evi- 
 dently disturbing her mind as she gave 
 utterance to these few passionate words ; for 
 she glanced around her with a shuddering, 
 terrified gesture, as if expecting to find her- 
 self confronted by some much dreaded ob- 
 ject. 
 
 Her whole frame, too, had become con- 
 vulsed with a writhinor kind of movement 
 which seemed to betoken acute mental 
 agony, and an unnatural fire burned in the 
 large dark eyes, as they once more hungrily 
 
What the Storm Brought Forth. 7 
 
 fastened themselves upon my own juvenile 
 features, greatly to the amazement and per- 
 plexity of poor bewildered Mrs. Joyce, who 
 afterwards confessed to a certain superstitious 
 presentiment which chilled her very blood, 
 and made her watch her mysterious visitor's 
 proceedings with a sort of awful semi- con- 
 sciousness that something was about to 
 happen — something which all her feeble 
 efforts would be powerless either to defer or 
 prevent. 
 
 And it came ! that terrible silent presence 
 which comes to all at one time or another 
 — that relentless enemy which tracks the 
 footsteps alike of the young and the old, 
 stealthily and persistently plucking the sweet 
 dewy floweret Avhich has not yet had time 
 to unclose its perfumed blossom, side by side 
 with the '' bearded m-ain " which has oTown 
 ripe, either in good or evil, full ready for 
 the heavenly garner, or to be cast aside as 
 the worthless chaff '' which the wind driveth 
 away." 
 
 There was no time for speech or action 
 before the end arrived — the end of this brief 
 life so far as my poor suffering mother was 
 concerned (for that she h(fd suffered mo^t 
 
8 , Charlie. 
 
 jjrofbundly no one could, I think, deny) the 
 befi^mning of that other state of boundless 
 immortality which has no dark deep river 
 lying at its other end to scare and terrify us, 
 no return to that gloomy shadow-haunted 
 territory which we call " death " to make us 
 start, and shiver, and turn pale. 
 
 Just one faint flickering of the snowy eye- 
 lids, a pain -drawn gasping sigh, a blue-grey 
 shadow stealing cloud-wise over the faultless 
 features ; and then the tension was over, the 
 earthly tenement forsaken, and ^' life's fitful 
 fever" exchanoed for that solemn and ma- 
 jestic calm which invests the inanimate clay 
 with a strange new dignity, and makes the 
 looker-on realise, perhaps for the first time in 
 his or her experience, the awfulness of this 
 vast and inexplicable change, this severing of 
 soul from body, and the silent sailing away 
 of the emancipated spirit upon the unfathom- 
 able ocean of immensity, all friendless and 
 forlorn — so far as human love and companion- 
 ship go — without the power of uttering a 
 single explanatory syllable to the half- 
 stupefied survivors, or casting ever so brief a 
 backward glance from out of that mysterious 
 bourn from whence no traveller returns. 
 
What the Storm Brought Forth. 9 
 
 " Heart complaint " — this was the verdict 
 of Mr. Maxwell, the village doctor, when he 
 was hurriedly sent for to throw the light of 
 his professional wisdom upon the case — 
 '' accelerated by severe mental excitement." 
 
 And his opinion was unanimously sub- 
 scribed to by certain county magnates, 
 including the clergyman of the parish, who 
 assembled at the inquest which was of 
 course held upon the poor body ; and this 
 important matter being settled, the next very 
 natural question which arose was concerning 
 the identity and antecedents of the unfortu- 
 nate individual, who had so suddenly and 
 mysteriously appeared upon the Saltsea 
 f-icenes, and been all in a moment summoned 
 to the Eternal World, leaving no sign by 
 wiiich she might be traced, no answer to the 
 puzzling inquiry as to who she was, and 
 whence she came, and whither going, when 
 death had arrested her footsteps, and snatched 
 her away from the child whom she had just 
 declared she would never give up : all re- 
 mained dark and uncertain, without a single 
 ray of light to solve the doubt or set the 
 public mind at rest as to the peculiar cir- 
 cumstances under which this youthful-looking. 
 
10 Charlie. 
 
 ill-starred stranger had found herself in this 
 particular locality, and what her object had 
 been in coming there at all. 
 
 Certain of the village gossips, taking one 
 thing with another, sagely gave it as their 
 firm conviction that she had purposely chosen 
 this apparently out-of-the-way and insignifi- 
 cant spot as a possible future residence, in 
 order that her whereabouts might not be 
 discovered by those who had — or she fancied 
 they had — conspired to separate her from 
 myself Others averred that the wild passion- 
 ate words she had spoken were merely the 
 ravings of a death-distorted imagination, and 
 must not therefore be looked upon as the 
 sober and rational utterances of one who 
 fully realised what she was saying. 
 
 I have o'ood reason for knowino- that 
 Mrs. Joyce did not agree with this latter 
 supposition, and she always shook her head 
 very solemnly, and pursed her thin lips to- 
 gether with an expression of superior wisdom, 
 Avhenever anyone ventured in her presence to 
 suggest that the halo of romance which she 
 had insisted on throwing around the poor 
 dead stranger was out of place, and incon- 
 sistent with the prosaic tendencies of this 
 
What the Storm Brought Forth. 1 1 
 
 matter-of-fact age. She knew better, or 
 thought she did ; and not all the arguments 
 in the world would have convinced her that 
 her unknown guest Avas an ordinary person, 
 or that the circumstances under which she 
 had sought her roof had been in any way 
 natural or commonplace. 
 
 Her husband, too, rather sided with her in 
 investing the affair with a kind of special 
 import, a mysterious halo of dignity which 
 he felt rather than understood, and would 
 doubtless have been quite at a loss to explain 
 in a lucid and satisfactory manner to the 
 generality of his Saltsea acquaintances. 
 
 He never forgot the little scene he wit- 
 nessed when, coming home that stormy 
 afternoon almost drenched with the pelting 
 storm, he found his own comfortable easy- 
 chair occupied by a dying — nay, a dead 
 woman : nor the look of mino^led terror anddis- 
 may depicted upon his wife's face, as she gazed 
 with awe -stricken dilated eyes upon the 
 quickly changing features, the misery and 
 unrest ah disappearing beneath the impress 
 of this mighty conqueror, and a great and 
 majestic calm descending in their place ; nor 
 the timid frio^htened orlances with which I 
 
1 2 Charlie. 
 
 was regarding my new surroundings, having 
 succeeded at length in extricating myself 
 from those protecting arms which had no 
 longer the power to enfold me in their loving 
 embrace, or defend me from the real or 
 imaginary evils with Avhich I was in her eyes 
 apparently threatened. No ; never to his 
 dying day would the remembrance of that 
 touching little tableau be effaced from Joseph 
 Joyce's memory, or the outburst of grief 
 which presently followed, when, with the 
 unerring instinct of childhood, I discovered 
 that something was wrong, and began 
 piteoush" to appeal to my dead mother for 
 that comfort and sympathy which had 
 probably never before been denied me. 
 
 What followed will be readilv imaorined. 
 The doctor sent for in hot haste, one or two 
 of the nearest neio'hbours called in to assist 
 Mrs. Joyce in this unlooked-for emergency, 
 my own small self soothed and petted and 
 fed and conveyed to bed ; and then a long 
 and serious consultation held as to what steps 
 should be taken by way of finding out who 
 the unhappy stranger was, and how her friends 
 or relations should be communicated with, 
 before the last sad rites were performed and 
 
What the Storm Brouffht Forth. 13 
 
 the poor motionless clay consigned to its 
 kindred dust, to await the stupendous hour 
 when the graves shall open, and the dead arise. 
 
 Mr. Maxwell kindly undertook to send 
 advertisements to all the local papers, giving 
 a full description of the deceased, and asking 
 for information as to whence she came and 
 whither she was going when thus brought 
 face to face with the last dread foe, and 
 oblio'ed to lay down her life's burden and 
 pass away into the regions of the Great Un- 
 known. 
 
 But all his efforts to obtain a clue to her 
 identity were unavailing, and she was at 
 length buried in the village churchyard, a 
 stranger in a strange place, her name even 
 being a mystery to those who took part in the 
 solemn service. 
 
 Her linen bore the simple initials L. H., 
 which, as Mrs. Joyce sagely observed, might 
 mean anything, and afforded them no in- 
 formation whatever on a subject which seemed 
 to them just then of such paramount im- 
 portance. 
 
 She was evidently not in want, for her 
 purse contained twenty sovereigns, and in 
 addition to the plain gold circlet on the 
 
1 4 Charlie. 
 
 wedding-finger there was a magniiicent 
 diamond ring, which inspired the simple 
 country people with a sort of awe, as being 
 suggestive of a higher social standing than 
 their own, and went far towards making^ them 
 regard my insignificant self with a decidedly 
 favourable eye, not knowing what important 
 personage I might eventually turn out, or the 
 extent of the good fortune Avhich might pos- 
 sibly await me as soon as the news of my 
 present friendless and unprotected position 
 should reach the ears of those of my rela- 
 tives who might be supposed to feel an in- 
 terest in my welfare, and come forward and 
 charge themselves with the responsibility of 
 bringing me up. 
 
 As the days and weeks passed b}^, how- 
 ever, and no one appeared to lay claim to me, 
 the excitement gradually calmed down, and 
 the good people among whom my strange 
 lot was thus suddenly cast ceased to specu- 
 late about my future, or to trouble them- 
 selves, in fact, about me at all, beyond 
 favouring Mrs. Joyce with an occasional 
 visit for the purpose of critically examining 
 my personal appearance, giviog their opinion 
 respecting the as yet undeveloped tendencies 
 
What the Stor7n Brought Forth. 15 
 
 of my infant character, and volunteering a 
 vast amount of kindly meant though sHghtly 
 inconvenient advice as to the most advisable 
 course to be adopted with regard to me, and 
 the best way of providing for my present 
 and future well-being. 
 
 There was a good deal of surprise ex- 
 pressed, and not a little disapprobation in 
 certain quarters, when the grave-featured, 
 tender-hearted schoolmaster announced his 
 intention of adopting the motherless child 
 who had been so mysteriously consigned to 
 his guardianship. 
 
 '' If his friends ever do come forward and 
 claim him, well and good," he firmly, though 
 respectfully, observed to Mr. Maxwell, when 
 he remonstrated with him on the subject^ 
 ** but so long as he stands in need of a home, 
 and I am able to provide one for him, he shall 
 have it." 
 
 And to this resolution he nobly adhered, 
 treating, me during the twelve years it was 
 my good fortune to dwell under his roof, with 
 the most unselfish and devoted kindness — 
 just the same, indeed, as if I had been his 
 very own child. 
 
 Mrs. Joyce was in her way equally kind. 
 
 ■J^ 
 
1 6 Charlie. 
 
 She was a good-natured, easy-going kind of 
 person, with not much strength of character, 
 but a profound respect for the superior wisdom 
 of her more studiously inchned husband ; and 
 as she had no children of her own (the only 
 one which had ever been born to her having 
 died in infancy), she gladly agreed to his 
 suggestion that so long, at any rate, as no 
 one appeared to dispute their right to my 
 small person, they would retain possession of 
 me themselves, and conjointly do their best 
 to fulfil a parent's duties with regard to 
 me. 
 
 They were rather awkwardly situated as to 
 what I should be called — not a scrap of in- 
 formation on this important subject having 
 been elicited by the most careful examination 
 into the contents of my dead mother's pocket. 
 There was no letter or writing of any kind to 
 be found ; nothing but those two ambiguous 
 initial letters, which might stand for so many 
 different names. 
 
 Finally, it was decided by my adopted 
 parents that, considering the peculiar cir- 
 cumstances under which I had made my 
 first appearance in their midst, I should go 
 by the appropriate surname of Hcdl, or Hale, 
 
What the Storm Brought Forth. 17 
 
 as it was afterwards rendered. There was, of 
 course, no manner of question concernino^ my 
 Christian name, my poor mother's last signifi- 
 cant words having settled that point beyond 
 the shadow of a doubt. 
 
 To the simple Saltsea people, therefore, I 
 soon became known as Charles, or Charlie, 
 Hale ; and by this appellation I have gone 
 ever since, and shall probably never change it 
 for another until my own life's journey shall 
 be ended, and all that is now hidden from my 
 dim, mist-bhnded eyes be clearly revealed. 
 
 In looking back through the long vista of 
 years upon this period of my early life, it 
 always gives me a thrill of pleasurable satis- 
 faction to remember Mrs. Joyce's oft-repeated 
 assurance that I was a remarkably quiet child, 
 and gave her very little unnecessary trouble 
 with regard to my upbringing. 
 
 It almost seemed as if, in some mysterious 
 way, I had been conversant with my mother s 
 troubles and sufferings, and had become in 
 consequence far more thoughtful and grave 
 than most children of my own age. 
 
 I discovered, too, an aptitude for learning 
 which rejoiced good Mr. Joyce's heart, and 
 made him devote himself to the work of my 
 
 VOL. I. 2 
 
18 Charlie. 
 
 early education with an eager, zealous inte- 
 rest which had the effect of quickening my 
 own desires after learning, and making me 
 anxious to take full advantage of the oppor- 
 tunities thus afforded me of making progress 
 in all those particular branches of study 
 which he from time to time considered it 
 advisable to bring before my youthful 
 mind. 
 
 Often and often, when quite a child, have 
 I silently wondered at the wistfully dissatis- 
 fied gaze with which Mrs. Joyce was wont to 
 regard me, as I sat quite still in my little 
 chair, poring over some book which her hus- 
 band had entrusted me w^ith, or trying to get 
 by heart some lesson which he had requested 
 me to learn, and heard her mutter to herself 
 certain foreboding words about the dangerous 
 consequences which might be expected to 
 follow from so early and exclusive an atten- 
 tion to what she vaguely termed "cramming 
 the brain ;" but father— I had been brought 
 up to call them father and mother — only 
 laughed at her fears, and told her he knew 
 perfectly well how much I could stand, and 
 was under no apprehension whatever of my 
 overdoing it. 
 
What the Storm Brought Forth. 19 
 
 It is just possible that but for the periodi- 
 cal seasons of recreation which I enjoyed, 
 when we would wander hand-in-hand — my- 
 self and the schoolmaster — alonor the seashore, 
 drinkinof in the invigorating breezes, and find- 
 ing at every step some object to delight and 
 interest us, I might have suffered from mental 
 overwork ; but instinctively Mr. J oyce seemed 
 to know when I had had enough, and always 
 came at the right moment and bade me shut 
 up my books, and go forth with himself on 
 these little excursions, which afforded us both 
 the most intense pleasure. 
 
 As time passed on I was dimly conscious 
 of a slight feeling of surprise that he never 
 proposed to take me with him to the village 
 school, by way of saving himself the extra, 
 and, as many no doubt considered it, unne- 
 cessary trouble of instructing me during his 
 own few leisure hours. 
 
 What his real reasons were for wishinof to 
 keep me apart from the rough fisher children 
 he never fully explained ; but I can quite 
 understand that it was out of pure kindness 
 to myself that he thus preferred to undertake 
 this additional labour rather than allow me to 
 be brougfht into too close a contact with those 
 
20 Charlie. 
 
 whose example he might perhaps have feared 
 would not be altogether good for me. 
 
 My temperament, too, was rather a peculiar 
 one, being characterised by that extreme 
 pride and sensitiveness which so often marks 
 the disposition of those who are of an un- 
 usually studious tone of mind ; and I can 
 well believe that my kind and thoughtful 
 guardian was afraid lest I might suffer by 
 being exposed to the blunt-edged familiarity 
 — not to say coarseness — of boys who were 
 not as a class distinguished for any particular 
 delicacy or refinement of spirit, and 
 who might therefore have unintentionally 
 w^ounded me at every turn, by making me 
 miserably conscious of the uncongenial na- 
 ture of my own surroundings, and entire 
 dissimilarity in thought and feeling to them- 
 selves. 
 
A Successful Plunge. 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A SUCCESSFUL PLUNGE. 
 
 " Politeness costs nothing and gains everything." 
 
 " I am young, it is true ; but in noble souls valour 
 does not wait for years." 
 
 " Courage mounteth with occasion." 
 
 One of the most common of our walks led 
 through the village churchyard, which was 
 lined by an avenue of fine old oak-trees, on 
 either side of which reposed the silent dead 
 within sound and sight of the boundless 
 ocean, which lay like a blue mirror far below, 
 and could be reached by a flight of steps 
 leading from the cliff to the sands — a some- 
 what precipitous mode of descent which 
 struck my boyish fancy as most delightful, 
 from the very fact, perhaps, of its being so 
 
22 Charlie. 
 
 little used by anyone except ourselves, and 
 being, moreover, apparently attended with 
 some little risk, in consequence of the uneven- 
 ness of the steps and the crumbling nature of 
 the cliff itself, which often, especially after a 
 storm, showed very decided signs of giving 
 way. 
 
 Mr. Joyce declared, however, that there 
 was no real danger, and he treated all the 
 warnings w^hich he received on the subject 
 with a good-humoured though sceptical smile, 
 and pursued his own way just as if they had 
 never been uttered. 
 
 Often he would pause midway down the 
 long dusky avenue, and point to a modest 
 white stone surrounded by a few neatly kept 
 shrubs and plants, and in a low sympathetic 
 voice repeat to me the little story which I 
 was never tired of hearing of my poor 
 mother's untimely end ; and as I gazed with 
 earnest, wistful eyes upon the two mysterious 
 letters L. H., which meant I knew not what, 
 and then went on slowly and reverently to 
 read the words inscribed below : 
 
 " AND THERE WAS A GREAT CALM,'* 
 
 I felt my young heart stirred with emo- 
 
A Successful Plunge. 23 
 
 tions the cause of which I could not well 
 have explamed, but which were nevertheless 
 very real and abiding; a strange wonder 
 thrilled through my whole being, an awed, 
 reverent feeling which made me fancy some- 
 how that I Avas in church listening to the 
 organ's solemn peal, just as I sometimes 
 heard it when my kind guardian took me of 
 a Saturday afternoon to attend the cathedral 
 service at Middlebury, where the music was 
 acknowledged by everyone to be some- 
 thing most uncommon in its elevating 
 grandeur. 
 
 ^^You see, CharUe," musingly observed 
 
 Mr. Joyce, one lovely afternoon when we 
 
 stood thus together in front of my mother's 
 
 grave, " some people blamed me for putting 
 
 up this stone at all : it was a useless piece 
 
 of extravagance !— others shrugged their 
 
 shoulders over the words, and asked me 
 
 what I meant by them ; but everyone has 
 
 his crotchets, you know, and when I saw 
 
 your poor dead mother's face so calm and 
 
 still after all the passion and excitement 
 
 which had so lately troubled her, I instantly 
 
 thought of this text. It seemed as if the 
 
 dear Lord had suddenly appeared Himself, 
 
24 Charlie, 
 
 and stilled and comforted her, just as he 
 quieted the raging sea of Galilee ; and then, 
 instead of the fret and flurry of earth's storms 
 and fitful fever, there came a great and abiding 
 calm." 
 
 Thus saying, he put on his hat, which he 
 invariably removed when standing by the 
 side of this stranger s grave, and silently led 
 the way down the clifl". 
 
 One singular feature in our intercourse 
 consisted in the fact that he always spoke to 
 me as if I understood him. To no other 
 living creature, I believe, did he ever reveal 
 what was passing in his mind so plainly as 
 he did to myself, despite my youth and in- 
 experience. 
 
 Perhaps my grave face and preternaturally 
 thoughtful manner may have attracted him, 
 and made him give me credit for a wider and 
 more comprehensive scale of reasoning than I 
 was actually capable of; or perhaps he recog- 
 nised so far a kindred spirit, in that I could 
 sympathise when I could not pretend to un- 
 derstand ; and, however dark and abstruse 
 the subject of his conversation might be, I 
 had too thorough and loving a respect for 
 him even to dream of interrupting him with 
 
A Successful Plunge. 25 
 
 my own childish and frivolous ideas, but 
 listened rather like one who drinks in the 
 tender melody of some thrilling and en- 
 trancing song which falls for the first time 
 upon his charmed ear, and from which, 
 although the language is new to him, he 
 can yet derive sufficient delight and enjoy- 
 ment to render it by no means a wasted 
 effort. 
 
 My own character, too, had probably 
 developed much quicker than that of most 
 boys of my age, and living in this close com- 
 panionship with a man of such peculiarly 
 grave and abstracted ideas — one, too, who 
 never associated with his neighbours or con- 
 descended to evince even the faintest interest 
 in the petty everyday trifles which were 
 taking place around him, may have quickened 
 my powers of discernment and made me more 
 able to appreciate a character which, as it 
 little by little unfolded before my dawning 
 intellect, filled me with the deepest awe and 
 veneration, and a kind of grateful, idolatrous 
 love with which no other mortal man has 
 ever inspired me, and never will, now that 
 the object of my first fresh boyish devotion 
 is gone — a devotion which I honestly believe 
 
26 Charlie. 
 
 to have had the same strength and intensity 
 as though I had been a full-grown man, able 
 to look upon things from a man's standpoint, 
 and bring the whole weight of a strong and 
 mature affection to bear upon the subject 
 which he singles out as Avorthy of being en- 
 shrined in the heart's inner sanctuary — worthy 
 of being loved first and foremost, better than 
 one's self — better even than one's life I 
 
 But I must not anticipate. 
 
 Behold me, kind reader, at the age of ten, 
 a dark-haired, dark-eyed, pale-faced youth, 
 tall and slender, with just sufficient difference 
 in my manner and appearance to the rest of 
 the village boys to furnish certain black 
 sheep among them (whose society I had 
 been carefully taught to eschew) with the 
 power of inflicting a wound upon my sensi- 
 tiveness by levelling at me, whenever they 
 had an opportunity of doing so without my 
 guardian's knowledge, the sneering epithet 
 of " Gentleman Charlie I ' and as I was quite 
 aware that this term was, coming from their 
 lips, the reverse of complimentary, I naturally 
 felt somewhat aggrieved in consequence, 
 though I would not for the world have called 
 Mr. Joyce's attention to the fact, or allowed 
 
A Successful Flange. 27 
 
 him to suspect that I was treated with any- 
 thing but kindness and respect by tlie entire 
 youthful community. 
 
 About this time Mr. Yaughan, the clergy- 
 man of the parish began to notice me. He 
 had from the first set his face against the 
 schoolmaster's plan of adopting me ; and for 
 several years paid no more attention to me 
 than if I had not existed at all ; but one day, 
 as I was returning from a distant farm- 
 house, whither I had gone with a message 
 from Mrs. Joyce, I happened to come across 
 himself and his daughter, a lovely, golden- 
 haired, violet-eyed child about eight years of 
 age, close beside a small wicket gate w^hich 
 stood in our path. Quite instinctively, and 
 without a moment's hesitation, I held it open 
 for them to pass through, doffing my cap 
 meanwhile. 
 
 A look of unmistakable interest suddenly 
 appeared on the clergyman's face, and he 
 smiled approvingly, saying good-naturedly : 
 
 " That's right, my boy ; there's nothing like 
 politeness." 
 
 After this he invariably stopped and 
 spoke to me whenever we met, and occasion- 
 ally he paid a visit to the schoolmaster's 
 
28 Charlie. 
 
 cottage, a thing he had not previously been 
 in the habit of doinsf. 
 
 He was, in fact, rather unpopular among 
 his parishioners, in consequence of his non- 
 visiting proclivities ; and his manner towards 
 his inferiors was slightly dogmatic and 
 arbitrary, and sometimes characterised by a 
 touch of haughtiness, especially when, as in 
 Mr. Joyce's case, he had — or at any rate 
 fancied so — reason to find fault with him for 
 not having followed the particular line of 
 action which he had himself recommended 
 with regard to the disposal of my own small 
 person on the melancholy occasion of my 
 poor mother's death. 
 
 Take him all in all, however, Mr. Vaughan 
 was not a bad sort of man. His pride, it is 
 true, prevented him from appearing in the 
 same pleasant and amiable light as other 
 people would under similar circumstances 
 have done ; and being, moreover, a very 
 wealthy man, and of considerable influence 
 in the neighbourhood, he was rather inclined 
 to give himself airs accordingly, and expect 
 everyone to bow to his superior wisdom, and 
 be implicitly guided by his decision in any 
 
A Successfid Plunge. 29 
 
 matter which he happened to interest himself 
 about. 
 
 When therefore he discovered that the 
 sao-e advice with which he condescended to 
 favour the village schoolmaster respecting 
 myself, was not followed, but that, in spite of 
 his counsel, the kind-hearted man insisted on 
 retaining possession of me himself rather 
 than consigning me to the questionable 
 guardianship of a cold and heartless world, as 
 represented by one of those charitable insti- 
 tutions to which Mr. Vaughan had intended 
 to send me in the event of no friends or rela- 
 tions appearing to claim me, he became ex- 
 ceedingly indignant, and for several years, as 
 I have already mentioned, made a point 
 of ignoring me altogether, and treating my 
 adopted parents with scant civility whenever 
 he chanced to be brought into personal con- 
 tact with them. 
 
 1 strongly suspect, however, from what I 
 have since seen and heard of the clergyman's 
 disposition, that, notwithstanding the ap- 
 parent unkindness and disrespect with which 
 he treated Mr. Joyce, he all the time enter- 
 tained towards him a certain feelinor of esteem 
 for thus persisting in acting up to his own 
 
30 Charlie. 
 
 ideas of Avhat was right and proper to be 
 done, rather than bhndly suffering himself to 
 be led by the opinions of others. 
 
 Be this as it may, he certainly contrived 
 in a hundred ways to show by his subsequent 
 conduct that he was ready to look over any- 
 thing in the past which had at the time pro- 
 duced an irritating effect upon himself, and 
 by the kindly notice he took of me, and the 
 various questions which he from time to time 
 put as to the progress I was making in my 
 studies, the particular bent of my mind, and 
 the general consistency of my boyish de- 
 meanour, it was quite evident that he was 
 beginning to regard me with some sort of 
 interest, a kind of latent satisfaction, originat- 
 ing, probably, from the discovery which he 
 had made of my own proficiency in certain 
 branches of study which possessed a peculiar 
 attraction for himself 
 
 A triflmof incident, which occurred too 
 about this time, had the effect of making him 
 look upon me with even more kindness and 
 favour than before. 
 
 I had been sent to the vicaraofe with a note 
 which required an answer : as far as I can 
 recollect, it bore some reference to a forth- 
 
A Successful Plunge. 31 
 
 coming examinatiori which was to take place 
 in the villaofe school, and Mr. Vauirhan's 
 opinions had to be asked on certain points 
 connected with the important ceremony. 
 
 On reaching the house and presenting my 
 letter, I was informed that the vicar was at 
 that moment engaged with a gentleman on 
 urgent business, but that, if I chose to wait 
 for half an hour, he would probably be free 
 to answer the communication with which I 
 had been entrusted. 
 
 After considering the matter for a moment, 
 I decided that I would call again. 
 
 " Perhaps you might like to stroll about 
 in the grounds T suggested the servant, as, 
 having left the letter in her charge, I was 
 turning away with the intention of retracing 
 my steps down the long avenue ; '^ the roses 
 are in perfection just now, and if you take 
 that path," pointing with her finger towards 
 a private-looking covered walk, which lay in 
 the opposite direction, " it will bring you 
 straiu^ht into the flower-gfarden." 
 
 " Are you sure Mr. Vaughan would not 
 mind V I asked, somewhat doubtfully, for [ 
 was a proudly sensitive boy, and hated the 
 idea of having even . the appearance of 
 
32 Charlie. 
 
 wishing to intrude upon another person's 
 premises. 
 
 *' Oh no I" was the reassuring response ; 
 '^ my master's always pleased for people to 
 look at his flowers ; and I'm sure/' glancing 
 at me with a half smile, " you are far too 
 steady to do any mischief." 
 
 " Well, I hope so," I said, lifting my head 
 rather proudly as I walked away ; for when 
 was I ever known to do mischief ? and, even 
 if I had been, was it at all likely that I should 
 attempt anything of the kind on the property 
 of a man of whom I stood so much in awe 
 as Mr. Yaughan 1 
 
 Besides, I had a passion for flowers ! I 
 loved and reverenced them to that degree that 
 I would almost as soon have inflicted actual 
 torture upon one of the most sensitive of my 
 fellow-creatures as ruthlessly handled even the 
 smallest blossom ; and boy though I was, I 
 felt my pulses quicken, and a glow of exqui- 
 site pleasure take possession of my whole 
 frame, when I presently found myself stand- 
 ino-, like one entranced, within the charming 
 precincts of the vicarage garden. 
 
 Such a garden it was I Even yet I seem 
 to see it as it then for the first time appeared 
 
A Successful Plunge, 33 
 
 to my delighted eyes. Roses everywhere ! 
 Not that other flowers were wanting, but this 
 was the one chief feature in the scene — thisj 
 and a marvellous fountain, which sent up its 
 refreshing spray in the exact centre of the 
 garden, which was of a perfectly circular 
 shape, and had been laid out, as I afterwards 
 discovered, according to a peculiar theory of 
 Mr. Vaughan's own; the tallest standard 
 trees being arranged to form a flowery hedge 
 in the background, while the other rows fol- 
 lowed in harmonious gradation, until the last 
 line, consisting of the tiniest specimens of 
 dwarf roses, was reached, forming the inner 
 circle of all, and separated only from the 
 fountain by a smoothly gravelled pathway, 
 from whence the full beauty of the scene 
 could be obtained — a roseate fairy-like scene, 
 such as could never be wholly forgotten by 
 so intensely enthusiastic an admirer of floral 
 beauty as myself. 
 
 It almost seemed as if I had caught a pass- 
 ing glimpse of paradise ! The soft sighing sound 
 of the gentle summer breeze fell like the music 
 of seolian harps upon my charmed ear : the 
 perfumed air stole gratefully over my half-be- 
 wildered senses : the golden sunshine, as it 
 
 VOL. I. 3 
 
34 Charlie, 
 
 flickered loving-ly over the delicately tinted 
 blossoms, and sparkled like diamond sprays 
 in each crystal jet as it first rose and then 
 fell into the marble basin below, wherein 
 disported a glittering phalanx of gold and 
 silver fish, all conspired to make me feel as 
 if I had suddenly stepped into a new world, 
 another and, up to the present moment, 
 undreamt-of existence, such as steeped my 
 whole being in a sort of intoxicating pleasure, 
 the like of which I had never previously con- 
 ceived of, never even believed it possible for 
 any human being to experience. 
 
 Out of this trance-like state of raj)turous 
 enjoyment I was at length rudely awakened 
 by hearing a piercing cry, instantly followed 
 by another ; and before its echo had died 
 away there was a sudden splash, just as if 
 something or other, not far from where I 
 stood, had fallen into the water — though, but 
 for the before-mentioned fountain, I had not 
 the most remote idea that there teas any 
 water so close at hand, and I felt puzzled 
 therefore exceedingly to know which way I 
 should wend my footsteps so as to arrive at 
 the scene of danger, and find out whether my 
 poor services could be of use. 
 
A Successful Plunge, 35 
 
 Without waitinof to reason the matter over 
 in my mind, however, 1 darted away in the 
 direction from which the sound had appeared 
 to proceed, and a very few steps brought me 
 in sight of an artificial lake or pond, in which 
 a couple of tame white swans were majes- 
 tically sailing about, while at the further 
 end — oh, horror of horrors ! — I could plainly 
 perceive the lovely golden-haired child of 
 whom I have already spoken in the act of 
 sinking beneath the shimmering water. 
 
 What could I do? Not a soul was in sisfht : 
 there was no time to summon assistance from 
 the house ; and — I was but a lad. 
 
 Still I was not wholly wanting in presence 
 of mind, and I think I may add that, sp far 
 as personal danger was concerned, I was 
 naturally courageous. Fortunately, too, both 
 for myself and the fair child who was 
 struggling in the lake, I had lately been 
 taking a few swimming lessons from Mr. 
 Joyce, so that I was not quite so helpless as 
 I might under other circumstances have 
 been. 
 
 Scarcely waiting therefore to tear off my 
 jacket, I boldly plunged into the water, and, 
 how I managed it I know not — it all seems 
 
 3—2 
 
36 Charlie. 
 
 like a dream to me now — hut, the next thing 
 I remember was standing once more, panting 
 and exhausted, upon terra firma, grasping 
 the inanimate form of the half-drowned 
 child in my arms, and vaguely wondering 
 how I should get her conveyed to the 
 house. 
 
 For there was no denying the fact that 
 now that the effort was over my own strength 
 was expended ; my knees shook and trembled 
 just as if I had been suddenly seized with an 
 attack of the ague ; while a strange feeling 
 of deadly faintness crept over me, such as I 
 had never before experienced, accompanied 
 by a curious sensation in my right wrist, 
 which made me suspect what afterwards 
 turned out to be correct, that I had contrived 
 in some way or other to give it a severe 
 sprain which would effectually prevent my 
 using it for some time to come, and that it 
 would be perfectly useless for me to attempt 
 even to carry my rescued charge ever so 
 short a distance without assistance. Laying 
 her gently down upon the grass, therefore, T 
 was just about to proceed in quest of help, 
 when a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman 
 made her opportune appearance, and re- 
 
A Successful Plunge. 37" 
 
 lieved me from all further anxiety iu the 
 matter. 
 
 '* Oh, what has happened V she cried, rush- 
 ing up to me and bending over the still 
 insensible child with a white scared face. 
 
 ** I think she will soon be all rio^ht," I 
 answered, tiying hard to look and speak as 
 naturally as possible, '^ she was not long in 
 the water, and " 
 
 " Oh, my darling !" exclaimed the woman, 
 in a voice of excessive emotion. '' I must 
 get her home at once," she added, setting her 
 lips firmly together as she lifted her in her 
 arms and prepared to carry her away ; " and 
 as for you, my poor boy," she said this very 
 kindly, as she for the first time caught sight 
 of my face, *' just stay where you are for a 
 few minutes, and I will send some one to 
 look after you." 
 
 I made no answer, but my eyes followed 
 them until they were out of sight, and then, 
 with a low gasping sound, I sank down upon 
 the greensward, and a minute or two later I 
 had become unconscious. 
 
 In this state I was found by the gardener, 
 who had been sent in quest of me, and he 
 took me straight away to the lodge and put 
 
38 Charlie. 
 
 me in charge of his wife, a sensible motherly 
 kind of woman, who soon found out the best 
 mode of treating me by way of once more 
 restoring my scattered senses and ascertain- 
 ing what was the matter with my wrist. 
 
 She looked very grave when she proceeded 
 to examine the latter, after my fainting fit 
 was over, and I sat up on the capacious 
 chintz- covered sofa and tried to persuade her 
 that I must go home. 
 
 '^ There will be no going home for you 
 to-day, I'm thinking, my dear," she observed, 
 shaking her head, " so you may just as well 
 make yourself comfortable where you are." 
 
 '' But indeed I must go," I persisted, 
 glancing impatiently at a large old-fashioned 
 clock which showed me that it was already 
 past the hour when Mr. Joyce usually 
 returned from the school ; *' they will be 
 getting anxious about me." 
 
 "Now don't fret," she soothingly made 
 reply; "just wait until your clothes are dry, 
 at any rate, and then we shall see what 
 Mr. Maxwell says." 
 
 " Mr. Maxwell ?" I remonstrated, in dis- 
 mayed surprise. 
 
 " Yes, he has gone up to the house, you 
 
A Successful Plunge. 39 
 
 know, to see after Miss Laura, and is going 
 to look in on his way back. And you 
 needn't trouble about the Joyces," she con- 
 tinued reassuringly, " as my husband pro- 
 mised me he would call and tell them what 
 was detaining you." Here she once more eyed 
 my rapidly swelling arm with a grave com- 
 passionate glance, and then hastily turned 
 her back upon me, and proceeded to look out 
 of the window. 
 
40 Charlie, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HORS DE COMBAT. 
 
 " To each his sufferings : all are men 
 Condemn'd alike to groan ; 
 The tender for another's pain, 
 The unfeeling for his own." 
 
 "Youth, what man's age is like to be, doth show ; 
 We may our ends by our beginnings know." 
 
 " The child is father of the man." 
 
 Meantime, I was beginning to feel very hot 
 and restless, and the pain in my arm seemed 
 every moment to grow more and more acute, 
 and although I did my best to call up a 
 smile when the lodge door was presently 
 opened, and my kind-hearted guardian made 
 his appearance, I fear, judging from the 
 grave concerned air with which he regarded 
 me, that my own face must have presented a 
 
Hors de Combat. 41 
 
 very woe-begone expression, despite my 
 efforts to look cheerful. 
 
 " My poor Charlie I" he said, laying his 
 hand fondly upon my curly head ; and the 
 tender sympathising tone brought a sudden 
 rush of tears to my eyes, while my lip 
 quivered painfully, and I had much ado to 
 prevent myself from giving way altogether, 
 so thoroughly unstrung were my nerves, and 
 so hard a task did I find it to maintain my 
 usual self-contained manner. 
 
 *^ He's a regular hero, sir, that's what he 
 is 1'* observed my good-natured hostess, " I 
 don't believe there's another boy for fifty miles 
 round who would have done what he did." 
 
 Under other circumstances this encomium 
 might perhaps have afforded me some slight 
 feeling of gratification, but I was far too 
 miserable just then to derive any comfort 
 from it ; and when a minute or two later 
 Mr. Maxwell joined the party and began to 
 rally me in his peculiar way upon what had 
 occurred, I could not even pretend to answer 
 him, though just as he was about to examine 
 my wrist I did contrive to put a brief 
 question to him as to how Miss Vaughan 
 was getting on. 
 
42 Ghaiiie. 
 
 '* Oh, she's all right," was his re-assuring 
 reply, and mingling with my pain there came 
 a certain glow of satisfaction in the know- 
 ledge of her safety. 
 
 ''Now T must see what I can do for you," 
 proceeded the doctor, and with a touch 
 tender as that of any woman, he took my 
 poor aching hand in his own, and began to 
 examine into the extent of the injuries which 
 my late feat had entailed upon me. 
 
 The gentlest touch, however, was pro- 
 ductive of agony, and called forth an 
 irrepressible moan from my parched lips, 
 which, I felt rather than saw, sent poor Mr. 
 Joyce away to the other end of the room 
 with an anguished face and an intensely 
 sorrowful heart, so utterly unnerved was he 
 when called upon to witness anything like 
 physical suffering. 
 
 Just for one moment I felt my whole 
 frame racked with the most exquisite torture, 
 and then a handkerchief was suddenly held 
 to my nostrils, and a strange dreamy 
 sensation stole over me, making me forget 
 that there was such a thing even as pain, 
 and — what happened after that remains a 
 blank. 
 
Tlors de Combat. 43 
 
 When I at length regained consciousness, 
 I found myself lying comfortably back upon 
 the old-fashioned sofa, feeling very weak and 
 helpless, with my right arm tightly bandaged 
 from the elbow downwards, and Mr. Maxwell 
 regarding me with a sort of grave com- 
 placency which seemed to intimate that he 
 had performed a difficult task, and performed 
 it well. 
 
 Mr. Joyce, too, looked relieved, though his 
 thin face was very pale, and showed traces of 
 recent emotion. 
 
 " It's all over, Charhe my boy," he ex- 
 claimed, taking out his handkerchief and 
 passing it hastily across his forehead, '' and 
 now you have only got to rest." 
 
 "Can't I go home, father ?" I faintly asked, 
 though I knew pretty well, without hearing 
 it, what the answer would be. 
 
 '' I only wish you could," was the decided 
 reply; " but Mr. Maxwell says it is absolutely 
 necessary for you to remain perfectly quiet 
 for the next few days, and Mrs. Grimshaw," 
 turning courteously to the gardener's wife, 
 '' has kindly promised to take every care of 
 you, and make you as comfortable as she 
 possibly can." 
 
44 Charlie. 
 
 *^ Yes, you needn't be afraid, my dear," 
 chimed in the good woman, '^ I'll look after 
 you right well. His reverence has just sent 
 down a message to say you were to be taken 
 to the big house at once," she continued, in a 
 voice of considerable awe, ^^ but the doctor 
 won't allow you to be moved even that short 
 distance, so you have no help for it, you see, 
 but to stay where you are." 
 
 " I'd rather be here than at the vicarage," 
 I answered frankly. 
 
 *' Would you really, now ?" she exclaimed, 
 evidently very much pleased at my decision, 
 " well, I'm glad of that, at any rate," and she 
 rewarded me with an approving smile, as she 
 proceeded to put a second pillow under my 
 head. 
 
 ''Now I think a little sleep would be 
 advisable," quietly observed Mr. Maxwell, 
 after putting his finger upon my uninjured 
 wrist, in order to feel the pulse. 
 
 " I suppose I may stay ?" I heard Mr. 
 Joyce inquire, in a low anxious tone. 
 
 '' Better not," was the firmly significant 
 reply ; " he will fall asleep much sooner if he 
 is left alone, and besides," this was added in a 
 more peremptory voice, apparently in answer 
 
Hots de Combat. 45 
 
 to some remonstrance on the part of my 
 guardian, *' you ought to go home and look 
 after your wife ; otherwise she will be getting 
 quite uneasy at your long stay, and perhaps 
 be coming off herself to see what has 
 happened. You can tell her, you know, that 
 the fewer people he sees just now the better. 
 I shall look in again myself before I go to 
 bed, and will call if you like and satisfy you 
 as to how he is getting on." 
 
 '^ Thank you, I should be very grateful to 
 you if you would/' responded Mr. Joyce, and 
 then they all went away together, leaving 
 me alone. 
 
 I heard their voices for a few minutes 
 longer in the next room, mingled occasionally 
 with a loud bass tone, which I hazily recog- 
 nised as belonging to the vicar, but almost 
 before I had ceased to wonder what his 
 unexpected presence might mean I had 
 drifted into the land of dreams. 
 
 When I awoke 1 almost fancied at first 
 it must be the middle of the night, so 
 unbroken was the silence which surrounded 
 me. The light, too, had been carefully ex- 
 cluded by the closing of the window shutters, 
 and although I could plainly hear the ticking 
 
46 Charlie, 
 
 of the old-fashioned clock, I could not see to 
 what hour its hands pointed. 
 
 While I was speculating on this subject, 
 and beginning to feel, if the truth must be 
 confessed, just a trifle home-sick and low- 
 spirited, my solitude was suddenly enlivened 
 by the welcome appearance of Mrs. Grim- 
 shaw, who came in bearing a candle in one 
 hand and a cup of beef -tea in the other. 
 
 She opened the door very quietly, 
 evidently expecting to find me still asleep, 
 but when she caught sight of my wide-open 
 eyes she smiled very pleasantly, and at once 
 set about the task of getting me to partake 
 of the strengthening concoction which had, 
 she informed me, been prepared by Mr. 
 Vaughan's cook for my especial benefit. 
 
 This matter disposed of, Mrs. Grimshaw's 
 next proceeding was to re-arrange the 
 cushions of my couch, by way of what she 
 called settling me in for the night ; and 
 when she had accomplished this, apparently 
 to her own satisfaction, she established her- 
 self in a chair at my side and prepared to 
 wait for the doctor's second promised visit. 
 
 " There's no fear of his forofetting to 
 come," she confidently observed, when I 
 
Hots de Combat. 47 
 
 feebly suggested that she might probably 
 have the trouble of sitting up for nothing ; 
 *' he's a very kind-hearted man is Mr. 
 Maxwell, though his manner sometimes 
 makes people think differently." 
 
 '^ I wonder why he wouldn't let me go 
 home T I said, in what I fear must have 
 sounded an ungrateful tone, for my arm felt 
 very uncomfortable, and my poor head ached 
 fearfully, so that it was not quite surprising 
 nor altogether inexcusable perhaps that I 
 should be conscious, notwithstanding all 
 Mrs. Grimshaw's kindness and attention, of a 
 certain sensation of loneliness and sinking of 
 heart, on thus finding myself for the first 
 time separated from the only friend I had 
 ever known, and called upon probably to toss 
 restlessly about during the live-long night, a 
 prey to those strange new pains which 
 seemed so suddenly to have taken possession 
 of my frame. 
 
 Nothing of all this, however, did I say to 
 my kindly attendant, not wishing, on the one 
 hand, to have the appearance even of ingrati- 
 tude, and shrinking on the other, with a 
 kind of instinctive reserve w^hich generally 
 characterised me in my dealings with 
 
48 Charlie. 
 
 strangers from clothing my secret feelings in 
 words when, as in this case, they related 
 solely and entirely to my own individual 
 self 
 
 " You were not fit for it, my dear," she 
 answered soothingly, after glancing at me 
 with an expression of considerable surprise ; 
 ^^even now you seem rather feverish, I 
 think" — here she laid her hand lightly upon 
 my burning forehead ; " and it would never 
 do to move you so long as there is anything 
 of this kind to be dreaded." 
 
 A smothered groan was my only response, 
 and I shut my eyes resolutely, and pressed 
 my lips firmly together, determined if possible 
 to keep back all further expression of my 
 present painful sensations, so long, at all 
 events, as she was in the room. 
 
 Mr. Joyce had so often impressed upon 
 me the duty of self-control, that it is just 
 possible I exaggerated its importance at this 
 particular juncture, and set myself a harder 
 task than it was at all necessary that I 
 should perform. 
 
 I rather think, from the few leading 
 questions which Mr. Maxwell put to me 
 when he at length joined us, that his keen 
 
Hots de Combat, 49 
 
 dark eyes must have taken in the situation at 
 a glance, and I almost imagined there was 
 something like an undercurrent of sympathy 
 in his manner, as, after gently examining my 
 bandag^edarm, he sat down and beoran to talk 
 on other subjects, still keeping his gaze, how- 
 ever, intently fixed upon my flushed face. 
 
 " You are very restless/' he said at last, 
 rising abruptly from his chair and looking 
 down upon me with a half smile, ** and your 
 poor head is aching sadly." 
 
 " Yes," I confessed, in a reluctant under- 
 tone. 
 
 " And you have been crying too ?" this 
 was added questioningly. 
 
 " No, oh no I" I exclaimed, rousing myself 
 to repudiate so unexpected a charge. 
 
 " Well, it's all the same thing," was the 
 conclusive rejoinder, *' you've been very near 
 it, at all events/' and with a curious expres- 
 sion upon his face Mr. Maxwell once more 
 took my hot hand in his and gravely felt my 
 pulse. 
 
 This done he turned away, asked for water 
 and a wine glass, and taking a small bottle 
 from his pocket, began to pour out a few 
 drops of some dark-looking fluid, which he 
 
 VOL. I. 4 
 
50 Charlie. 
 
 the next moment put to my lips, saying 
 cheerfully : 
 
 '* Drink this my boy — it will make you 
 feel quite comfortable." 
 
 " Will it ?" I somewhat dubiously inquirer! 
 as I obeyed his instructions, not very hopeful 
 in my own mind as to the result. 
 
 '* Yes, unless I am greatly mistaken, you 
 will forget all your troubles in a few minutes, 
 and when I see you to-morrow morning I 
 shall find that you have had a long sleep." 
 
 Even as he spoke a pleasurable sensation 
 seemed to be stealing over me, a sort of 
 dreamy condition which had the effect of 
 making myself and my surroundings appear 
 in a hazy far-away light, just as if my own 
 identity had been suddenly merged in that of 
 someone else ; and the pain which had been 
 previously tormenting me died away as if by 
 magicj leaving me conscious only of a vague 
 sense of indescribable satisfaction and relief, 
 without being exactly capable of analysing 
 the feeling or understanding from w^hence so 
 unexpected a transition had arisen. 
 
 The following morning Mr. Maxwell pro- 
 nounced me decidedly better, though he 
 shrugged his shoulders and smiled derisively 
 
Ilors de Combat. 5] 
 
 when Mr. Joyce mildly suggested that it 
 might do me no harm to be taken home. 
 
 " If all goes well he may be fit for it a 
 week hence," was the significant dictum, 
 " but certainly not before." 
 
 From which it will be seen that my 
 injuries were none of the lightest, and that 
 the painful sensations to which I have 
 alluded were only what might, under the 
 circumstances, have been expected. 
 
 Shortly after breakfast I received a visit 
 from no less a personage than Mr. Vaughan 
 himself; and his usual pompous and slightly 
 supercilious manner was strangely softened 
 and subdued as he came up to me, and told 
 me I had saved his daughter's life. 
 
 " It was only a chance, sir," I murmured, 
 quite overcome by this extraordinary con- 
 descension on the part of a man of whom I 
 stood so much in awe as the unapproachable 
 vicar. 
 
 " Indeed, my boy, it was a merciful provi- 
 dence," he answered, in a voice of much 
 emotion. '' How you managed to escape as 
 well as you did I cannot conceive. You 
 must have wonderful presence of mind for 
 one so young," and he eyed me curiously. 
 
 4—2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARy 
 
52 Charlie. 
 
 '' I had not time to think," I responded, 
 somewhat incoherently, " and I don't quite 
 know how it happened, but I fancy I must 
 have got hold of the branch of a tree, or 
 something of that kind, which helped 
 me. 
 
 '^ I only wish you had not suffered quite so 
 much yourself," observed Mr. Vaughan, 
 looking compassionately down upon my 
 flushed face. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," I replied ; " I dare say 
 I shall be better soon." 
 
 " I hope so, I am sure," he acquiesced ; " it 
 must be very dull for you, lying here." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind it so much to-day !" I 
 said, trying to speak in a cheerful tone ; ^' last 
 night was the worst," I added, with a little 
 shudder as I remembered all that I had grone 
 through. 
 
 ^' My poor boy I I wish I could make it 
 easier for you ;" and an expression of good- 
 humoured perplexity came into the proud 
 face. 
 
 He did not linger long after this, but Mrs. 
 Grimshaw informed me that he had oriven 
 her strict injunctions to look well after my 
 comfort, and that all sorts of good things in 
 
Hots de Combat. 53 
 
 the way of nourishment had been sent from 
 the vicarage for my use. 
 
 Mrs. Joyce came and sat with me for a 
 long time that afternoon, and the next day, 
 soon after I had partaken of my early dinner 
 and was lying placidly back with my eyes 
 shut, unconsciously listening to the move- 
 ments of my kindly hostess as she moved 
 backwards and forwards in the little kitchen 
 beyond, putting away the things, and, as she 
 termed it, '' tidying up," the door of my 
 room was suddenly opened, and I became 
 vaguely aware of some unwonted presence 
 near me. 
 
 Glancing quickly up, therefore, I found to 
 my intense astonishment that the little fairy - 
 like child whom I had so fortunately rescued 
 from the water was standing close beside me, 
 gazing at me with a sort of wondering awe 
 in her lovely violet eyes, while a middle-aged 
 woman, apparently her nurse, seemed also to 
 be regarding me with a grave speculative 
 face, as if mentally engaged in forming then 
 and there a conclusion as to my own 
 individual merits. 
 
 The latter was the first to break the silence. 
 
 " Miss Laura has come to thank you," she 
 
54 Charlie. 
 
 said, in a voice of much feeling, as she glanced 
 down upon her small companion, '* for what 
 you did for her yesterday." 
 
 " I don't want any thanks," I remarked, 
 rather bluntly I am afraid. 
 
 •' I've promised papa never to go near the 
 water again," volunteered the little lady, in a 
 confidential tone, " when I am by myself." 
 
 '' Yes, it was very naughty of Miss Laura 
 to go there at all," supplemented the other, in 
 atone of would-be severity ; '* she knew quite 
 well that it was wrong." 
 
 *' I didn't mean to fall in, you know," was 
 the plaintive rejoinder, " only I did so want to 
 feed the dear old swans, and so I ran away 
 after dinner and forgot to tell Mason," look- 
 ing apologetically up at her attendant, 
 '' where I was going. But I am sorry," she 
 added, and the little rosebud mouth began to 
 (|uiver, *^ because papa says 3'ou nearly broke 
 vour arm." once more directinof her undivided 
 attention to myself, '' and I didn't want you 
 to do that." 
 
 Here she shook her golden head with an 
 air of great solemnit3% and appeared to think 
 she had explained everything in a very 
 satisfactory manner. 
 
Ilors de Combat. 55 
 
 " You mioflit have been drowned," observed 
 Mason, who was evidently bent on improving 
 the occasion by impressing upon her youthful 
 cliarge the full extent of the risk she had 
 run. 
 
 " Well — I wasn't, you see — not quite 1" 
 was her consolatory rejoinder. 
 
 '' No; because it fortunately happened that 
 someone was at hand to fly to your assistance 
 — but it's just a miracle/' she added signifi- 
 cantly, " that hey'' pointing meaningly to- 
 wards me, *^ was not drowned, as well as 
 Yourself." 
 
 Once more the childish mouth showed 
 signs of distress, so I hurriedly interposed. 
 
 '' Please don't talk about it — it's all right 
 now, and I'm so glad." 
 
 '' You are not all right yet," kindly 
 remarked the nurse. 
 
 ^' Couldn't you get up if you tried 1" 
 sympathisingly demanded Miss Laura. 
 
 " I dare say I could," I answered lightly, 
 " but the doctor won't let me." 
 
 " He's a horrid cross man," was the 
 energetic response. 
 
 " Who is a horrid man ?" suddenly de- 
 manded another voice ; and Mr. Maxwell, 
 
56 Charlie, 
 
 who had entered the room just in time to 
 hear this uncomphmentary speech, glanced 
 rather humorously towards the little lady. 
 
 '' You,'' she explained, without a moment's 
 hesitation. 
 
 " Well, to be sure !" and he lifted his hands 
 with an expression of pretended indignation, 
 " what ingratitude !" 
 
 '^ You made me take nasty medicine 
 yesterday," proceeded his self-constituted 
 judge, with a disapproving gesture, '' and now 
 you are keeping this poor boy in bed." 
 
 " This poor boy," repeated Mr. Maxwell, in 
 accents of unqualified amusement, ^' would 
 be a very long time getting well if I were to 
 allow him to move about just at present." 
 
 " Of course he would, Miss Laura dear," 
 remonstrated her grave -featured attendant ; 
 ^^ and it's not nice of you to speak so dis- 
 respectfully to Mr. Maxwell." 
 
 " But he did give me horrid medicine," 
 excusingly persisted the imperious young 
 lady, '' and " 
 
 " Yes, but it was to make you well, and 
 you ought to be very much obliged to him." 
 
 " Ought I T she dubiously rejoined, look- 
 ing not altogether convinced, even yet, as to 
 
Ilors de Combat. 57 
 
 the propriety of permitting herself to sub- 
 scribe to this new view of the case. 
 
 '* Of course you ought I" promptly chimed 
 in the doctor, " have I not looked after you 
 all your life, and cured you whenever there 
 was anything the matter with you V 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," she admitted, after a 
 moment's pause ; ** but you made me take 
 medicine thouo^h," returninor to the old 
 grievance. 
 
 "To be sure I did, you foolish child ! how 
 could I possibly have cured you ivithout 
 medicine 1" was the wise reply. 
 
 '* I don't know," she answered, looking 
 somewhat puzzled. 
 
 " No, little girls are not expected to know 
 everything," remarked Mr. Maxwell, with a 
 grave shake of his head ; and then he pro- 
 ceeded to give his undivided attention to 
 myself. 
 
 Most kind and considerate was he durinor 
 the time 1 remained an inmate of Mrs. 
 Grimshaw's cottage, doing his very utmost 
 to render my positioa as little irksome as 
 possible, so that I had good reason to feel 
 grateful to him for all that he did, and looked 
 upon him from henceforth in a very different 
 
58 Charlie. 
 
 light from that in which I had formerly 
 regarded him. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, too, made a point of 
 regularly paying me a visit every day, in the 
 course of which he instituted the most polite 
 inquiries as to the progress I w^as making 
 towards recovery, and was profuse in his 
 offers of assistance by way of helping the 
 time to pass as pleasantly as could, under the 
 circumstances, be possibly expected. 
 
 Books and flowers and fruit were con- 
 stantly finding their way from the vicarage to 
 my bedside, while as for the soups and jellies 
 and wines, Mrs. Grimshaw laughingly declared 
 it would require quite an army of invalids to 
 consume them all. 
 
 '* You see, he's a very rich man, my dear," 
 she volunteered one day, when I was 
 well enough to be able to sit up — a fresh 
 inundation of things had just arrived from 
 the "big house," and she was somewhat 
 at a loss, apparently what to do with them — 
 *' and he's certainly not by any means wanting 
 in generosity where he takes a fancy ; 
 but between ourselves," here she dropped 
 her voice to a mysterious whisper, ''he is 
 just as much fit for a clergyman as I am." 
 
Hors cle Combat. 59 
 
 I suppose I must have looked the astonish- 
 ment I felt, for she went on, in an explanatory 
 tone : 
 
 ** When his elder brother died some 
 twenty years ago, and he came in for the 
 family property, everyone expected that he 
 w^ould give up the living ; but no, he did 
 nothing of the kind — he had got accustomed 
 to a clergyman's life he said, and liked it ; 
 but goodness gracious me !" she continued, 
 with a prodigious shake of her head, *' he's 
 not a bit my idea of what a clergyman ought 
 to be. He scarcely ever visits anybody in 
 the parish, and when he does, he carries him- 
 self with such a high and mighty air, that 
 the poor people would no more think of 
 telling him their troubles than exjDecting the 
 Queen to listen to them." 
 
 " He has been very kind to me since 1 
 met with this accident," I ventured to remark, 
 as she came to a sudden pause. 
 
 '' Well, yes, so he ought to be," she replied, 
 with a curious smile; ''he perfectly idolises 
 Miss Laura, and I believe it would have 
 broken his heart if anything had happened 
 to her. She is his only child, you know." 
 
 " Is she ?" I exclaimed, feeling very much 
 
60 Charlie. 
 
 interested, as I always did whenever she 
 approached this subject, for the quaint Httle 
 maiden and myself had by this time become 
 fast friends, and she was quite as much at 
 home in Mrs. Grimshaw's tiny lodge as in 
 the vicarage itself. 
 
 '^ Yes ; he lost all his other children in 
 their infancy, and his wife died when Miss 
 Laura was only a few days old, so that she 
 has been his companion ever since, and he 
 almost worships her. It is a wonder, indeed, 
 that she is not completely spoiled," added 
 the talkative woman, more to herself than 
 me, " but Mrs. Mason has great influence 
 over her, and uses it in a downright sensible 
 manner." 
 
 Here Mrs. Grimshaw's confidences came to 
 an abrupt termination, as the object of her 
 late remarks came breathlessly into the room, 
 bearing in her hands a certain gorgeously 
 bound volume, which she laid down on the 
 table before me with an air of the most 
 intense self-satisfaction, saying compla- 
 cently : 
 
 *^ There, I promised you I would bring it, 
 and so I have." 
 
 *' What is it ?" I inquired, as I began 
 
Hots de Combat. 61 
 
 mechanically to turn over the pages with 
 my left hand. 
 
 " I told you yesterday," she answered, 
 regarding me half reproachfully, as if she 
 considered the question a very unnecessary 
 one. 
 
 "Oh yes, I remember," I hastened to assure 
 her ; and I could not help smiling somewhat 
 at the decidedly juvenile style of literature in 
 which she expected me to take an interest. 
 My peculiar education, and the constant 
 companionship of so clever a man as Mr. 
 Joyce, had made me far more advanced than 
 most boys years older than myself. 
 
 '' You don't like it," quickly exclaimed my 
 w^atchful companion, detecting the smile, and 
 interpreting it after her own fashion. 
 
 "Oh, I dare say it is very nice," I replied 
 somewhat lamely ; " but the fact is, I have 
 seen it before — years ago." 
 
 '' Years ago V she scornfully retorted, with 
 a pout of her pretty lips ; " why it is quite 
 neiv ! — papa gave it to me only a few days 
 ago." 
 
 '' Yes, but you see I am so much older 
 than you," I explained, in a tone of semi- 
 apology. 
 
62 Charlie, 
 
 *' What does that signify ?" she loftily 
 demanded. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," I replied, quite 
 humbly, '* only I suppose boys and girls are 
 different." 
 
 ** He doesn't care for my book. Mason." 
 cried the little lady, turning with an air of 
 offended dignity to her nurse, who now 
 joined us, having, I suppose, walked with 
 slower and more deliberate footsteps than 
 her young charge ; '^ he says he has seen it 
 before — years ago r such a tone of contempt 
 rang in her voic -. 
 
 '' T told you, my dear, it was too babyish 
 for him," was Mason's soothing reminder. 
 
 *' / am not a baby, and I like it 1" quickly 
 retorted the child, who was evidently cut to 
 the heart at my non-appreciation of her own 
 much-prized treasure. 
 
 "It was very kind of you to bring it," I 
 said pacifically ; ** and I am just as much 
 obliged to you as if I had never read 
 it." 
 
 '' But I don't like old books," she scorn- 
 fully observed, shutting it up and pushing it 
 away with a sudden change of manner. 
 
 '' It is new to you," I suggested, pointing 
 
Hots de Combat. 03 
 
 to the immaculate cover, ^' and I liked it 
 very much at one time." 
 
 "Did you?" she rejoined, in a slightly 
 mollified tone, and her glance rested on it 
 with returning complacency. 
 
 '* I'll read you some of the stories if you 
 can stay to listen to them," I went on, after 
 trying to think of some way by which I 
 might make up to her for the disappointment 
 I had caused her. 
 
 " Yes, do," she promptly responded, and 
 she seated herself with the air of a young 
 princess in the little low chair which Mrs. 
 Grimshaw had brought forward for her to 
 occupy ; " Mason will be sure to let me stay, 
 won't you ?" looking coaxingly up in her 
 nurse's grave face. 
 
 " Well, if you will promise to be good, 
 and not disturb Mrs. Grimshaw," she 
 answered, after a pause of consideration. 
 
 " Bless her heart ! she ng'ye'r disturbs me !" 
 exclaimed the good-natured lodge-keeper ; 
 " it's just like having a bit of sunshine in 
 the house when she is here." 
 
 Privately I quite agreed in this opinion, 
 for of all the sweet, lovable, quaint, tender- 
 hearted, impulsive young maidens that had 
 
64 Charlie. 
 
 ever existed, Laura Vaughan was in my 
 eyes the dearest and the best. 
 
 True, my own experience in this respect 
 had been exceedingly hmited, and I could 
 not therefore be expected to be a competent 
 judge, but the very fact of my having been 
 the fortunate means of rescuing her from a 
 position of such undoubted peril as that in 
 which I had so lately discovered her made 
 me regard her with a sort of proud pro- 
 prietorship — a fond protecting kind of friend- 
 ship, mingled largely with the deepest 
 admiration, and that chivalrous respect 
 which even a boy is capable of entertaining 
 towards the object of his youthful pre- 
 dilection, whether that object happens to be 
 worthy of all the romantic devotion thus 
 richly bestowed upon it or not. 
 
Recovery. 65 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 KECOVERY. 
 
 •* Words are but poor interpreters in the realms of 
 emotion." 
 
 " The parents love the love that is old, 
 And the children the love that is new." 
 
 " One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." 
 
 In jDoii^t of education, Miss Vaughan was 
 not Avhat micrht be called '' advanced." On 
 the contrary, she could do little more than 
 read when I had the honour of first makinof 
 her acquaintance, and even that was not 
 well done, while as for her spelling, 
 it was simply absurd, words of three 
 letters beino^ about as much as she could 
 manaofe. 
 
 VOL. I. 5 
 
66 Charlie. 
 
 Mason accounted for the young lady's 
 backwardness by explaining that the vicar 
 had been so fearful of injuring his darling's 
 health by over-study, that he had purposely 
 gone to the other extreme, and set his face 
 against having her taught anything except 
 such simple things as she could understand 
 without any effort. 
 
 As a natural consequence she was, although 
 really very clever and intelligent in point of 
 ability, decidedly below par when contrasted 
 with other girls of her own age and position, 
 and she was just beginning to realise this 
 herself, and quite ready to take the law into 
 her own hands with regard to the future 
 development of her intellectual powers. 
 
 I think the first thing that had the effect of 
 directing her attention to her own educational 
 deficiencies was observing^ the difference 
 which existed between herself and some 
 cousins of hers who happened about this 
 time to be staying in the neighbourhood of 
 Saltsea for the benefit of their mother's 
 health ; and when she discovered how much 
 more they knew^ than she did, how far 
 advanced they were in all sorts of studies of 
 which she had not even been taught the 
 
Recovery. G7 
 
 rudiments, her childish pride instantly came 
 to the front, and she declared her intention 
 of forthwith o-oinsf to school ! 
 
 This was a step, however, which her anxious 
 father would not for a moment countenance ; 
 but he so far fell in with her suggestions as 
 to engage a really superior governess to 
 superintend his dauo-hter's future studies ; 
 and at the time when I found myself hors de 
 combat in Mrs. Grimshaw's cottao-e, the 
 imperious little lady was looking forward 
 with undisguised impatience to the arrival of 
 this important personage, who was to be 
 permitted the privilege of initiating her into 
 all those mysteries of learning with which 
 she was herself so keenly anxious to be made 
 acquainted. 
 
 It was quite easy to see, by the way in 
 which Mason alluded to the new regime 
 which was about to be established at the 
 vicarage, that she was by no means a sharer 
 in Miss Laura's rhapsodies. She appeared 
 to have a sort of presentiment that her own 
 sway was almost over, and that the new- 
 comer would, ere long, succeed in obtaining 
 that place in the young lady's affection which 
 had hitherto been occupied entirely by herself 
 
 5—2 
 
68 Charlie. 
 
 Miss Vaughan, an elderly stej)-sister/ of 
 the vicar's, who had come to rule his house 
 for him when he first lost his wife, and had 
 at his special request remained with them 
 ever since, never interfered in the sliofhtest 
 degree with any of Mason's arrangements, 
 (all this I heard of course from my gossip- 
 loving hostess) being only too glad to save 
 herself the responsibility of being answerable 
 for the safety and well-being of so precious 
 a charge. She was a timid unobtrusive 
 woman, with rather a cold and reserved 
 manner, but thoroughly refined and lady- 
 like, full of admiration and respect for her 
 brother, and a sorb of reverential tenderness 
 for the clevei^ imjDulsive, and affectionate 
 child who was the object of his own almost 
 idolatrous devotion. 
 
 Up to the present time, therefore, Mason 
 had reigned supreme so far as her youthful 
 charge was concerned ; and it was, I suppose, 
 only natural that she should have had some 
 misgivings at the idea of her own influence 
 being weakened, and a total stranger pre- 
 ferred perhaps to herself 
 
 For she had quite sufficient sense to recog- 
 nise the fact that knowledge is power, and 
 
Recovery. 69 
 
 was perfectly aware that Miss Laura enter- 
 tained the most profound respect for clever 
 people, and would probably be inclined from 
 the very first to look upon this highl}'- 
 educated person who was about to enter 
 upon the scenes in the capacity of instructress 
 to her individual self with decided interest, 
 and allow herself to be influenced by her 
 wishes without any further reference to the 
 opinions of her quondam nurse. 
 
 Not that Mason was naturally what might 
 be termed a jealous or small-minded woman, 
 but her affection for her nursling was so 
 intense and appropriative that she hated the 
 thought of anyone coming between them, 
 and showed herself in this one instance some- 
 what to a disadvantage in consequence. 
 
 Even Mrs. Grimshaw noticed the cloud 
 which always came over her face whenever 
 Miss Vauorhan alluded to the new oroverness, 
 and in her homely good-natured way essayed 
 to comfort her, by reminding her that sooner 
 or later some thin of of the kind must have 
 happened, and that there was no use there- 
 fore in troubling about what could not be 
 helped. 
 
 ** She's coming to-day," gleefully announced 
 
70 Charlie. 
 
 Miss Laura, as she unceremoniously entered 
 the Kttle lodge parlour one morning, and 
 from the suppresed excitement of her manner, 
 coupled with the more than usual gloom 
 and taciturnity of Mason, I had no difficulty 
 in understanding to whom she alluded. 
 
 '' You seem very glad/' I answered 
 vaguely, not knowing what else to say. 
 
 *^^ Of course I'm glad," she retorted 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Perhaps you may tell a different story 
 when you've seen a little more of her," 
 glumly observed her dejected-looking at- 
 tendant. 
 
 *^ Poor old Mason !" was the condescendini>' 
 re23ly, accompanied by a glance of superior 
 wisdom, " she fancies I shan't care about her 
 any more, but that's all nonsense, you know," 
 turning towards me with a sort of con- 
 fidential movement. 
 
 ^^ Yes, I am sure you would never forsake 
 old friends for new," I meekly responded. 
 
 '^ Of course not," with a scornful toss of 
 the golden head; ''I told Mason so, but she's 
 very stupid ;" here she patted the other's 
 hand with a kind of lofty superiority which 
 brought something like a smile to the grave 
 
Recovery. 71 
 
 features, and made her answer, in rather a 
 more cheerful tone, " Well, we shall see." 
 
 '' Yes, we shall see," acquiesced the young 
 lady, in her -childishly-dignified voice, and 
 then she politely turned her attention to 
 myself, and inquired whether I was ^' ne arly 
 
 well r 
 
 " Yes, thank you ; I am going to-morrow," 
 I replied, glancing down at my arm, which I 
 now carried in a sling ; " Mr. Maxwell is 
 going to call for me himself," I added, '' and 
 take me in his carriage." 
 
 " I'm sorry you are going, boy," she 
 always called me hoy, and coming from her 
 lips I did not at all object to the appellation; 
 " we shall miss you, shan't we. Mason '?" 
 
 " Yes," assented the latter, eyeing me 
 kindly ; " 1 am sure we shall." 
 
 '' I suppose you couldn't come and see 
 me after I go home ?" I hesitatingly sug- 
 gested ; a sudden sinking of heart taking- 
 possession of me as it all at once flashed 
 across me how much I should miss /^eybriof-ht 
 sunshiny presence. 
 
 " Yes, we could," quickly exclaimed my 
 energetic visitor ; "at least, I think so," 
 turning inquiringly towards Mason. 
 
72 Charlie. 
 
 '* You will have to ask Miss Belmont's 
 leave," was the dry reminder ; " / shall be 
 nobody you know, when once she is in the 
 house." 
 
 ^' You dear old jealous darling ! I shan't 
 like her half as much as I do you," soothingly 
 remarked the child ; " but 1 shall have to 
 what papa calls ^ respect her/ because she's 
 so clever." 
 
 She finished up with a merry laugh, and 
 even Mason's grave face relaxed into an 
 answering smile. 
 
 ^^ You will have to take your walks with 
 her now, you see/' she explained, after a 
 moment's pause. 
 
 '' Oh, I dare say she'll often let me go with 
 you/' was the careless reply, '^ and we will 
 call and see that nice Mr. Joyce, and find 
 out how the boy gets on." 
 
 ^' I hope you will," I answered quickly. 
 
 ^^ And I shall see you in church, you 
 know," she continued re-assuringly ; ^' I know 
 where you sit — Mason showed me the other 
 day." 
 
 *' Did she V I exclaimed somewhat eagerly, 
 and I smiled to myself as I remembered how 
 often I had w^atched her restless little form 
 
Recover ij. 73 
 
 from afar, as she vainly strove to maintain 
 a decorously solemn deportment. 
 
 " What are you laughing at 1" she imperi- 
 ously demanded ; she was always quick to 
 •detect the slightest change in her companions' 
 countenances, and I could not help some- 
 times being lost in amaze at her penetration 
 in discovering just what I was thinking 
 ^bout. 
 
 ^'Nothing," I evasively rejoined ; '' I was 
 ■only wondering whether you did not find it 
 very difficult at times to sit still." 
 
 '' Do you f she gravely inquired. 
 
 *' Oh no, but then I am older, and not so 
 fond of moving about as you are." 
 
 " But I do behave well in church, don't I, 
 Mason ?" looking appealingly at her at- 
 tendant. 
 
 " Yes — very fairly," was her somewhat 
 •qualified rejoinder ; ^' it's a long service," she 
 added excusingly. 
 
 '^And papa's sermons are very dry," 
 candidly supplemented the little lady, with a 
 serious shake of the gfolden head. '' I don't 
 care about them one bit — do you ?" turning 
 sharply round upon me. 
 
 '' Oh, I don't know — I never thought," I 
 
74 Charlie. 
 
 stammered rather incoherently ; it was not 
 easy to give an ambiguous answer with those 
 gravely inquiring violet orbs riveted eagerly 
 upon one's face. 
 
 *' Then you ought to think," she promptly 
 rejoined ; '' you don't go to sleep, do you ?" 
 this was added with a sudden suspicion. 
 
 "No," I replied, feeling slightly scandalised 
 at the question. 
 
 " Some boys do, though," she condescended 
 to explain; "for I've seen them, and men and 
 women too !" this was said in a low con- 
 fidential tone, as if it was an admission 
 which she scarcely liked making. 
 
 " Perhaps if you had to work hard all the 
 week you might feel sleepy too," reprovingly 
 interposed Mason. 
 
 " Don't they sleep at night then V inno- 
 cently demanded Miss Laura, opening her 
 eyes with an expression of utter astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Well, for the matter of that I dare say 
 they are often disturbed," replied the other, 
 smiling a little at the unexpected question ;. 
 "poor people have a great many troubles to 
 put up with that you know nothing about.'* 
 
 The young lady's face took a serious 
 
Recover Ij. 75' 
 
 reflective expression at this new view of the 
 case, and she seemed, judging from her 
 silence, to be pondering the matter in her 
 own mind. 
 
 Presently she changed the subject," by 
 graciously announcing to me her intention of 
 paying me another visit before I should leave 
 Mrs. Grimsha-w's cottage the following 
 mornino\ 
 
 Which promise she duly kept, making her 
 welcome appearance upon the scene just 
 half-an-hour before I started. 
 
 She was accompanied by the new governess, 
 a tall dignified-looking, middle-aged person- 
 age, who wore spectacles, and dressed in 
 what seemed to my boyish understanding 
 rather a peculiar fashion ; she had a kind,, 
 though decidedly plain face, and a pleasant 
 smile, so that altogether I did not think Mrs. 
 Mason's gloomy forebodings with regard to her 
 own future prospects were likely to be realised. 
 
 She fixed her spectacled eyes upon me 
 with a look of considerable interest as her 
 impulsive companion rushed forward in her 
 usual unceremonious way, and holding out 
 her tiny hand, said, in a half mysterious- 
 whisper — 
 
76 Charlie. 
 
 " Here she is, boy ! I knew you would like 
 to see her." 
 
 Then, turning with a little air of dignity 
 towards her governess, she called her par- 
 ticular attention to me, by explaining 
 gravely — 
 
 " He's not quite well, you know, even yet 
 — papa told me so yesterday ; only Mrs. 
 Joyce is so dull without him, he must go 
 home." 
 
 " Miss Vaughan is very sorry to lose 3^ou, 
 I think," observed the lady, in a low musical 
 voice. 
 
 '' Yes, she has been very kind," I answered, 
 fixing my eyes upon the fair sweet face 
 which I had grown to love so well. 
 
 " Nay, she tells me that it is you who have 
 been kind to her," was the significant reply. 
 
 '' Yes," chimed in her communicative 
 young charge, " he's read me heaps of stories, 
 and told me about all sorts of curious things, 
 a.nd then," she added, with a sober little 
 smile, " he saved me from being quite 
 drowned in the lake." 
 
 ^' Yes, I have heard of that," responded 
 Miss Belmont, bestowing on me a glance of 
 the most flattering approval; ''and I am glad 
 
Recovery, 7 7 
 
 to make the acquaintance of so brave a 
 boy." 
 
 " Indeed, I am not brave," was my eager 
 disclaimer ; ^' I just did it on the spur of the 
 moment, and my father — Mr. Joyce I mean 
 — has often told me that impulse and real 
 couraofe are two different thino-s." 
 
 O O 
 
 " There, Miss Belmont, that's just the way 
 he talks," exclaimed the little Laura ; '' isn't 
 he a funny boy ?" 
 
 I felt my face flush somewhat at this 
 doubtful compliment — although I was well 
 aware that she did not mean it as such — but 
 Miss Belmont's next words served to put me 
 at ease again, and made me look upon her 
 almost as a friend, so thoroughly did she 
 seem to enter into my meaning. 
 
 " I quite understand the distinction," she 
 said, with a thoughtful sympathising smile ; 
 " and I can well believe that so far as your 
 own feelings are concerned you would rather 
 not be praised for what you did. Under the 
 circumstances," she went on, speaking slowly 
 and interrogatively, '' I dare say it seemed 
 to you at the moment the only thing to be 
 done !" 
 
 **Yes," T earnestly assented, ^' it was not 
 
78 Charlie. 
 
 as if I had had time to reflect on the conse- 
 quences, or even to make up my mind as to 
 whether there was a chance of my being able 
 to save her !" 
 
 Plere I paused, and looked with something 
 like embarrassment at the blooming young 
 maiden who had been in such deadly peril, 
 and a slight shiver ran through my fi'nme at 
 the remembrance of the risk I had run. 
 
 ^* I know just what you mean," gently 
 observed Miss Belmont ; ^' but unless I am 
 greatly mistaken in your character you would 
 have acted precisely the same, even if you 
 had reflected." 
 
 ^' Do you think so 1" I replied, Avith 
 mingled diffidence and gratification. 
 
 There was something about her w^iich 
 made me feel that she was thoroughly to be 
 trusted, and I instinctively recognised the 
 fact that she would never stoop to utter a 
 falsehood, or be guilty of insincerity, either 
 in word or deed. 
 
 She had only time to answer my question 
 wdth a re-assuring monosyllable, before Mr. 
 Maxwell's voice was heard outside the lodge 
 door, inquiring for me ; and after taking a 
 hasty leave of the little party, which now 
 
Recoverij. 79 
 
 included Mrs. Grimshaw and her good- 
 natured husband, 1 found myself seated 
 beside the doctor in the low hooded phaeton 
 which he used both winter and summer, and 
 in less than a quarter of an hour I was 
 comfortably installed in Mr. Joyce's easy 
 chair in my own cottage home, answering 
 his anxious wife's questions as to the present 
 state of my feelings, and looking around me 
 upon each familiar object with a certain sense 
 of complacency and satisfaction, such as I 
 had for some time past been a stranger 
 to. 
 
 " I am so glad to be home again, mother," 
 I said, when I felt her kind arms thrown 
 around me, and marked the unusual agitation 
 of her manner. 
 
 " You can't be more glad to come back 
 than we are to have you, my dear Charlie," 
 she answered, hastily wiping her eyes ; ^' I 
 cannot tell you how we have missed 
 you." 
 
 '^ How is father's couo^h ?" I somewhat 
 anxiously inquired ; the last time he came to 
 see me I had noticed that he seemed to be 
 sufFerinof from one of his old attacks. 
 
 " Oh, it's much about the same," she 
 
80 Charlie. 
 
 replied, in a consolatory tone, '^ no better, I 
 think, but certainly not worse." 
 
 '^ He will soon be home to dinner," I 
 remarked, glancing impatiently at the 
 clock. 
 
 " Yes, he won't let the grass grow under 
 his feet, you may be sure," was the half- 
 laughing rejoinder; "he has been looking 
 forward so to have you back again," and 
 after giving me another warm kiss, Mrs. 
 Joyce bustled off to see that the mid-day 
 meal was being properly prepared. 
 
 As soon as the door had closed upon her 
 I rose from my seat and went to the window, 
 where I remained, eagerly watching each 
 passer-by, until at last I caught a distant 
 glimpse of the well-known form of my dear 
 and best beloved friend. 
 
 He raised his eyes as he approached, and 
 quickened his pace on getting sight of me ; 
 but before he could reach the house I had 
 gone out into the little garden to meet him, 
 and the earnestness and fervour with which 
 he wrung my hand, the unmistakable delight 
 with which he welcomed me back again, 
 and the kindness and affection which beamed 
 from his delicate and refined face, brought a 
 
Recovery. 8 1 
 
 glow of unutterable pleasure to my own 
 heart, and a sort of choking sensation to my 
 throat, which prevented me from responding 
 to his greeting in any but a silent fashion. 
 
 There existed between us, however, such 
 thorough rapprochement f that words were 
 not needed to make our mutual sentiments 
 known to each other. 
 
 A look or smile was quite enough to 
 reveal all that was necessary to be known, 
 and never once during my whole intercourse 
 with this good, unselfish, noble-hearted man, 
 Avas there even the shadow of a cloud or 
 misunderstandinof between us. 
 
 Hoiv I loved and reverenced him, I fear I 
 could never hope to make my readers under- 
 stand, for it seems strange and mysterious 
 even to myself that I, a mere stripling, and 
 one, moreover, in no wise related to him, 
 should have had so perfect an affinity with 
 a character like his ; that two such, in many 
 respects, totally opposite natures, should 
 have thus been brought to assimilate despite 
 the additional disparit}^ in point of age ; that 
 he should have succeeded sometimes, as it 
 were, by descending to my youthful level, 
 sometimes by raising me to his own, in com- 
 
 VOL. I. 6 
 
82 Charlie. 
 
 pletely breaking dowQ those natural barriers 
 Avhich so often exist between the boy and the 
 man, preventing them from holding any 
 hona fide heart-to-heart communion ; but so 
 it was, and I rejoiced in the knowledge of 
 this thorough oneness, this reciprocity of 
 thought and feeling, which made me grate- 
 fully conscious that if I had been his son 
 fifty times over I could not have been more 
 to him than I really was, neither could my 
 own affection, on the other hand, have been 
 characterised by a particle more warmth and 
 fervour than that which I entertained for the 
 man who had acted towards me a parent's 
 part, and never by word or look reminded 
 me of the little real claim I had upon him, 
 or hinted even that there was anything at all 
 out of the common in the fact of his thus 
 caring for a waif and stray of whose ante- 
 cedents he literally hiew nothing, and who 
 was, properly speaking, of no practical use to 
 him, but, on the contrary, a very decided 
 expense and responsibility, to make no 
 mention of the infinitude of trouble he must 
 have taken with my early education, so 
 anxious was he that I should be thoroughly 
 grounded in those particular branches of 
 
Recovery. go 
 
 study ill which he was himself so deeply 
 interested, and so admirably quahfied by his 
 own proficiency to undertake the part of 
 guide and instructor. 
 
 6— '2 
 
84 Charlie. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 BEREFT. 
 
 *' The true nobility of worth ; 
 The aristocracy of gentleness, 
 The power of goodness and of doing good." 
 
 " They sleep. 
 I name no names ; instinctively I feel 
 Each at some well-remembered grave will, kneel, 
 And from the inscription wipe the weeds and moss, 
 For every heart best knoweth its own loss." 
 
 Another year soon slipped away, during 
 which I became, if possible, even more ab- 
 sorbingly attached to my so-called father 
 than before. 
 
 Many Avere the delightful and improving 
 conversations we held ; many the long 
 country walks we took, many the pleasant 
 confidences we exchanged ; and the older I 
 grew, the more I seemed to love and revere 
 
Bereft. 85 
 
 and appreciate his worth, enter into the 
 beauty and excellence of his character, and 
 understand that innate refinement of mind 
 and heart which raised him, in my estimation 
 at least, to a far his/her level than that 
 which was occupied by any one else. 
 
 I had the satisfaction of knowing, too, 
 beyond the shadow of a doubt, that my own 
 affection for him was returned wdth equal 
 warmth and tenderness by himself 
 
 I was his one joy — he often told me 
 so. In watching the growth and develop- 
 ment of my mental and moral faculties he 
 experienced an intense and appropriating 
 personal satisfaction, not easily to be 
 described or understood by outsiders, not 
 even half comprehended by his placid and 
 good-natured wife, whose own somewhat 
 limited resources in the matter of mind and 
 intellect quite unfitted her fully to grasp the 
 working of so highly cultivated a nature as 
 his, or give him credit even for that lofty 
 superiority and exquisite nobleness of spirit 
 which he manifested at every turn — almost 
 making me wonder sometimes, in my own 
 mind, at the vast difference which seemed to 
 exist between himself and other people, and 
 
8 C) Charlie, 
 
 speculate as to the cause, while I involun- 
 tarily contrasted his unworldly straight- 
 forward conduct, his gentle unassuming 
 manner, and the far-away spi?Htttel expres- 
 sion of his delicate features, wdth the rest of 
 the Saltsea inhabitants, not even excepting 
 Mr. Vaughan, who was, in virtue of his 
 kindness and attention to myself, invested 
 with a sort of halo of romance, and looked 
 upon in quite a different light to that in 
 which I regarded the generality of those 
 with whom I was occasionally brought in 
 contact. 
 
 One yeai^ ! how much may be compressed 
 into it ! how many serious events may 
 happen : and yet how short it seems to look 
 back upon ; how rapid and imperceptible its 
 flight. 
 
 Alas for me ! it was my last perfectly 
 happy one for many a day ; . and at its close, 
 the current of my life was rudely disturbed, 
 my fair illusions dispelled, and I awoke to 
 the consciousness that there were such thinsfs 
 as sorrow, and suffering, and weeping, and 
 trouble, and bereavement — even for me. 
 
 Yes, he died, my dear and idolised friend, 
 almost before I had realised the fact that he 
 
Berett. 87 
 
 was really ill. A. short and sharp attack of 
 inflammation of the lungs carried him 
 off, and I felt stunned and bewildered, 
 oppressed with a kind of dumb despair, of 
 mute agony, which seemed to paralyse my 
 faculties, and made me experience for the 
 first time in mv short life that I was desolate 
 and forsaken. 
 
 After the first shock whicit succeeded this 
 great and irreparable loss, Mrs. Joyce seemed 
 to accept her fate with a kind of gentle 
 resignation which astonished me not a little. 
 
 She had, in fact, no capacity for any intense 
 suffering or enjoyment, consequent!}^ she was 
 spared much. Still, she certainly felt her 
 husband's death — how, indeed, could it be 
 otherwise ? — missed his tender, loving com- 
 panionship, and tearfully regretted the lonely 
 widowed life which she was from henceforth 
 doomed to lead. 
 
 So far as worldly circumstances went she 
 was on the whole very comfortably provided 
 for. 
 
 Her wants were few, and living at Saltsea 
 was by no means dear ; so that she did not 
 suffer much in a pecuniary way from her 
 husband's loss. 
 
88 Charlie. 
 
 The little cottage, too, in which we lived 
 had been purchased by Mr. Joyce some years 
 previously, so that she had no rent to pay, 
 and in addition to the modest competence 
 which the late schoolmaster had left her, she 
 was presented w^ith rather a handsome 
 testimonial after his death as a mark of the 
 estimation in which he w^as generally held in 
 the neighbourhood, and the sorrow which 
 w'as universally felt at his abrupt removal 
 from their midst. 
 
 In course of time a new schoolmaster w^as 
 appointed, and the recently made widow^ 
 kindly proposed that I should pursue my 
 interrupted studies under his personal super- 
 vision. 
 
 To this arrangement I demurred ; for, truth 
 to tell, not only did I shrink most painfully 
 from seeing another, as it were, occup}' ing a 
 position which my more than father had 
 hitherto held, but the little I had as yet seen 
 of his successor inspired me with an un- 
 accountable feeHng of repulsion, and made 
 ine instinctively wish to keep as much aloof 
 from him as possible. 
 
 I could not exactly explain the cause of 
 my aversion, but I appeared so unmistakably 
 
Bereft. 8^ 
 
 reluctant to avail myself of his services, that 
 easy-going Mrs. Joyce did not at first insist 
 on my doing so. 
 
 For a while, therefore, I was left pretty 
 much to my own devices — spent my time 
 how and where I liked, and pursued, as far as. 
 I could do so, the same routine as that which 
 I had been accustomed to follow during the 
 lifetime of my dearly loved friend and 
 preceptoi-. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon, however — how 
 well I remember it ! — on returning from a 
 long stroll which I had been taking upon the 
 sea shore, vainly striving to forget my 
 sorrow, I found the new schoolmaster sitting 
 in Mrs. Joyce's little parlour engaged in an 
 apparently interesting and confidential con- 
 versation with her. 
 
 She was looking unusuall}" animated, and 
 there was a gratified self-complacent smile 
 upon her lips as I entered, which seemed to 
 indicate that her companion had been most 
 successful, not only in putting her at her 
 ease, but also in ingratiating himself with 
 lier, and making her regard him with a very 
 decided feeling of satisfaction and friendly 
 resjDect. 
 
90 Charlie. 
 
 Mr. Green — such was the new pedagogue's 
 name — judging from his appearance, must 
 have been about thirty years of age. 
 
 He was moderately tall, and rather 
 inclined to corpulence ; his eyes were of a 
 greenish blue, his hair and whiskers of a 
 reddish tinge ; his complexion florid, his 
 mouth large, and coarse, and — well, cruel. 
 
 His manner, however, could be both bland 
 and insinuating, and there was a deter- 
 mination of character about him, a kind of 
 dogged persistency, together wdth a firm and 
 resolute will, which suggested the idea that 
 he would never fail to carry his point or 
 accomplish his purpose, no matter how 
 strong the opposition might be, or apparently 
 insurmountable the difficulties. 
 
 In my own case I had a proof of this ; 
 for one short half hour spent in his societ}^ 
 had sufficed most eflectually to turn Mrs. 
 Joyce's head, and make her alter her opinion 
 as to what would be the most advisable 
 course to be adopted with regard to my 
 studies. 
 
 On the morning of this very day she had 
 ao-reed with me that I could not do better 
 than go on as I had begun ; the admirable 
 
Bereft. 91 
 
 instruction I had already received having, 
 as was only natural and to be expected 
 under the circumstances, placed me on quite 
 a different level to that occupied by most 
 boys of my age, and rendered me com- 
 paratively independent of any extraneous 
 assistance in the way of prosecuting those 
 intellectual researches which had been coni- 
 .menced under such wise and loving auspices. 
 
 Now, she announced in the quietest and 
 most matter-of-fact manner that she had 
 decided on putting me into Mr. Green's 
 hands for the future, and that he was coming 
 to give me my first lesson the following 
 Monday. 
 
 ** Bat, mother," I ventured to say, remon- 
 stratingly, conscious all the time that the 
 schoolmaster's blue-green eyes were riveted 
 keenly and searchingly upon my face, '' I 
 thought you told me this morning that I 
 might go on teaching myself." 
 
 ^^ So 1 did, my dear," she answered 
 promptly. '' but Mr. Green says it would be 
 a thousand pities for a lad with your abilities 
 to be thrown entirely upon your own 
 resources ; and as your poor father," a look 
 of gravity suddenly oversp Treading her coun- 
 
92 Charlie, 
 
 tenance, " never could bear the idea of your 
 going to the school, he/' glancing with 
 evident respect at her visitor, ''has kindly 
 consented to come here for an hour every 
 evening instead." 
 
 '' It will give me great plearsure, I am 
 sure,'"' chimed in Mr. Green ; " it's not often 
 one gets the chance of directing the studies 
 of so clever and painstaking a pupil as^ 
 Master Charlie seems to be !" and he laughed 
 facetiouslv- 
 
 "No, indeed," assented kind-hearted simple 
 Mrs. Joyce, who received the compliment 
 quite literally ; '' my poor dear husband often 
 used to say the same." 
 
 " Ah ! we should have been kindred 
 spirits," replied Mr. Green, with a sym- 
 pathetic shake of the head ; '' how grieved I 
 am that I never happened to meet him." 
 
 Kindred spirits ! I felt my face flush hotly^ 
 while a perfect whirl of contending emotions 
 awoke within me at the man's audacity. 
 
 How dare he compare himself for an 
 instant with his gentle, relined, delicately- 
 organised, intellectually-minded predecessor 
 — he, with his grossness and animalism, his 
 commonplace intelligence, his unprepossessing 
 
Bereft. 9 
 
 Q 
 
 appearance, and false, insincere manner I I 
 was absolutely aghast at his presumption, 
 and almost without intending it, I turned 
 apprehensively round upon Mrs. Joyce, fully 
 expecting to find her as much annoyed as 
 myself. 
 
 But no ; there was no trace of displeasure 
 
 .upon her countenance ; only a kind of 
 
 melancholy satisfaction, as if she rather 
 
 approved than otherwise of her visitor's 
 
 sentiments. 
 
 This beino' so, I had of course no rio^ht to 
 interfere ; but it is not always easy to keep 
 one's looks under control, and unless I am 
 greatly mistaken, Mr. Green read something 
 in my face which he did not altogether 
 like. 
 
 Indeed, I am quite sure of it ; for when 
 he shortly afterwards proceeded to take his 
 departure, there was a strangely vindictive 
 expression in the greenish blue eyes as they 
 met my own, which told me, plainly as any 
 v/ords could have done, that he had both 
 noticed and resented my indignation, and 
 that, whether he should think proper to 
 revert to the subject or not on any future 
 occasion, he would at all events remember 
 
94 Chay^lie. 
 
 what had occurred, and i^robably punish rae- 
 for it, if he could. 
 
 Not a moment's anxiet}- did this latter 
 consideration cost me — I was too thoroughly 
 absorbed in meditating over what I had 
 heard, and wondering whether there would 
 be the least use in trying to persuade 
 Mrs. Joyce to regard him in the same 
 unfavourable light as I did myself 
 
 A strange sinking of heart had suddenly 
 seized me — a gloomy presentiment that in 
 some mysterious way or other this Mr. 
 Green's influence would prove inimical ta 
 our joint happiness. 
 
 That he had some purely personal motive 
 for thus voluntarily charging himself with 
 the education of a lad who so evidently 
 failed to appreciate the honour, and would 
 have preferred being left alone, I could not 
 for an instant doubt, though what that 
 motive was it would have been very difficult 
 to comprehend. 
 
 Several times before the much-dreaded 
 Monday arrived, I tried to shake Mrs. 
 Joyce's resolve, and get her to alter her 
 plans, but she always shook her head and 
 said something about its being for my own 
 
Bereft. "d^y 
 
 good, and that it would be cruel kindness 
 were she to deprive me of the opportunity of 
 benefiting by Mr. Green s valuable assistance. 
 
 I had nothing to do, therefore, but to 
 submit ; and for the first week or two my 
 new preceptor was indefatigable in his 
 attentions, and most anxious, apparently, to 
 produce a satisfactory im2:>ression upon my 
 mind as well as that of Mrs. Joyce. 
 
 In the one case he certainly did not 
 succeed, for the more I saw of him, the les.^ 
 I liked him ; but so far as the widow was 
 concerned, he somehow contrived to throw a 
 kind of spell around her, which made her 
 look upon all he said and did in a partial 
 and prejudiced light, and j^re vented her from 
 seeing any flaws in his character or suspect- 
 ing him of anything like insincerity or 
 deceit. 
 
 I soon discovered, to my mystification 
 and dismay, that Mr. Green did not confine his 
 visits to the stipulated hour which he had 
 himself agreed upon for superintending my 
 studies, but he was constantly making his 
 appearance, sometimes with one excuse, 
 sometimes with another, until at last he got 
 into the way of dropping in without any 
 
"96 Charlie. 
 
 •excuse at all ; and whenever he came he was 
 always well received by Mrs. Joyce, and as 
 time passed on she seemed completely 
 infatuated by him. 
 
 He flattered and made much of her ; lost no 
 opportunity of paying her a compliment, and 
 putting her on good terms with herself ; and 
 not being sufficiently clever to distinguish 
 the false from the true, she accepted all his 
 attentions with a pleased and self-satisfied 
 spirit, and gave him credit for qualifications 
 which he never possessed. 
 
 On one or two occasions I spoke out and 
 told my poor deluded mother just what I 
 thought of him ; but I might just as well 
 have spoken to the winds for all the effect 
 my words had upon her. 
 
 She only laughed and reminded me that 
 I was but a boy, and could not, therefore, be 
 expected to understand a character like his. 
 
 '^ He is a good man, Charlie," she observed 
 rather sharply one day, when I had ventured 
 to express my own doubts on the subject, 
 '' and has such a respect for my poor dear 
 husband." 
 
 ''Oh, mother, don't trust him," I exclaimed, 
 with very unusual energy. 
 
Bereft. 07 
 
 '' I cannot imagine why you sliould have 
 taken such a disUke to him," she answered, 
 eyeing me in manifest perplexity, *' especially 
 when he is so kind to yourself." 
 
 *' Kind !" I scornfully repeated. '' I would 
 much rather he was not kind, for I often feel 
 as if I positively hated him." 
 
 '* My dear Charlie, you surely do not know 
 what you are saying," replied Mrs. Joyce, 
 with a half scared expression; ''it is very 
 wricked of you to talk of hating anyone." 
 
 '* It may be wicked, but I cannot help it," 
 1 doggedly responded. "^ 
 
 '' Such pains, too, as he takes with your 
 lessons," she went on, in mildly reproachful 
 tones. 
 
 '' Well, as to that, I very much question 
 whether he knows any more than I do 
 myself," I muttered, not so low but what 
 she could hear it. 
 
 For a minute or two she remained staring 
 at me in silent amazement, the presumption 
 of this last assertion having apparently 
 struck her dumb. 
 
 Then she recovered herself somewhat, and 
 proceeded gently to take me to task (even in 
 her most excited moments she could never be 
 
 VOL. I. - 7 
 
fJ8 Charlie. 
 
 anything but gentle) for venturing to speak 
 in such disrespectful terms of one for Avhom 
 I ought to entertain the profoundest esteem ; 
 and it ended at length, in this instance as 
 well as on other similar occasions, in my 
 being, if not convinced, yet — for the time 
 being at least — silenced ! 
 
 To anyone who did not know the peculiar 
 nature of the education I had already 
 received, the intense care and pains which 
 Mr. Joyce had expended upon me, and the 
 natural avidity with which I had taken in 
 ever^ahing he chose to teach me, it might 
 have seemed nothing^ more or less than 
 inexcusable conceit on my part, thus pre- 
 suming to pass an opinion upon the qualifi- 
 cations of the new schoolmaster. 
 
 But it was not for nothinsf that I had been 
 the chosen friend and companion of so clever 
 and intelligent a man as my so-called father 
 had been ; and in thought and mind I was 
 far more advanced than other lads much older 
 than myself. 
 
 I mention this little fact merely in ex- 
 tenuation of my apparent presumption in 
 venturing to question Mr. Green's fitness for 
 the post he at present held, and also to 
 
Bereft. 99 
 
 account to my readers for my own general 
 unyoutbtulness in various other ways. 
 
 I had never associated with boys of my 
 own age, never joined in their sports, or 
 compared notes with them on any one 
 subject : it was not, therefore, surprising that 
 I should have developed into a decidedly 
 jjrecocious lad, looking upon things in an 
 ultosfether different lio^ht to Avhat I mio^ht, 
 under other circumstances, have done ; and 
 being — well, it is only the truth — far more 
 capable in consequence of judging as to the 
 mental abilities of other people. 
 
 If Mr. Green had not had quite so exalted 
 an opinion of himself, and everything that 
 he did, he must have seen how thorough a 
 contempt I had for his so-called learning ; 
 but there was too much pride and conceit 
 about him, mingled with a kind of dis- 
 agreeable arrogance, and a harsh and 
 domineering spirit, to make him at all likel}^ 
 to suspect anything of the kind ; and, much 
 as I despised him, I forced myself to treat 
 him with outward civility when I discovered 
 how infatuated my poor easy-going, kind- 
 hearted, weak-minded mother was with 
 regard to him, and how utterly useless it was 
 
100 Charlie. 
 
 for me to try to shake her faith in him, or 
 get her to look upon his character in its true 
 colours. 
 
 What I suffered when I saw her gradually 
 getting into his toils, no tongue could 
 express. 
 
 Sometimes I felt as if I must by sheer 
 strength of will succeed in opening her eyes 
 to the truth ; then I became hopeless and 
 despairing, as I noticed the frequency and 
 significance of his visits, and the little flutter 
 of pleasurable excitement into which she was 
 thrown by his flatteries — flatteries which a 
 stronger and cleverer woman than herself 
 would have estimated at their real value, and 
 probably rejected with scorn. 
 
 One thing particularly struck me, which 
 was that Mr. Green always seemed ill-at- 
 ease and uncomfortable whenever I happened 
 to be present during these visits, and many 
 were the excuses he made to try and persuade 
 me to leave them tog^ether. 
 
 As far as I could do so, however, without 
 absolute rudeness, I turned a deaf ear to his 
 suggestions in this respect, and was pleased 
 and relieved to find that althoucyh I had not 
 got it in my power to put a stop to his 
 
Bereft 101 
 
 attentions, or prevent him from spending 
 every spare moment with my poor deluded 
 mother, I was yet able to exercise a certain 
 restraining influence over his movements, and 
 act as a sort of protection to herself. 
 
 But one unfortunate morning I rose from 
 my bed with the most extraordinary feelings. 
 One moment I was burning hot, the next 
 I shivered with cold, while my head ached 
 fearfully, and a choking sensation in my 
 throat made me miserably conscious that 
 something very unusual was about to happen 
 — that I must, in short, be going to have an 
 illness. 
 
 When Mrs. Joyce saw me she gave 
 utterance to an exclamation of consternation 
 and dismay, and then helped me to return to 
 my bed, after which she sent off to fetch the 
 doctor. 
 
 He pronounced it to be an attack of 
 scarlet fever, which happened just then to be 
 prevalent in the neighbourhood, and for the 
 next month I was confined to my own room, 
 and obliged, in spite of myself, to allow 
 matters to take their course wdth regard to 
 Mr. Green's future prospects. 
 
 I believe I should have orot well much 
 
102 Charlie. 
 
 sooner than I did, had I not been so worried 
 about my mother, but knowing the weak side 
 of her character, and how totally unfitted 
 she was to cope with a determined unscrupu- 
 lous man, such as I fully believed the new 
 schoolmaster to be, I could not help feeling 
 dreadfully alarmed lest she should be led 
 away by his hj^pocritical professions of 
 friendship and fulsome compliments, and 
 consign her happiness into his keeping — in 
 which case she w^ould, I greatly feared, soon 
 discover her mistake, and bitterly regret the 
 unadvised step she had taken, when it might 
 alas ! be too late to remedy the evil, or bring 
 back comfort and pleasure to her hitherto 
 peaceful and united home. 
 
Changes. 103 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 " But yet she liyten'd — 'tis enough, 
 Who listens once will listen twice." 
 
 " Thus he cried, 
 Easing the pressure of his burthened heart, 
 With passionate prayer ; thus pour'd his spirit forth, 
 Till the long effort had exhausted him. 
 His spirit fail'd." 
 
 When I at length recovered from my illness, 
 I fomid my fears all verified. Mr. Green had 
 done his work well ; not only persuading poor 
 Mrs. Joyce into the belief that he was one of 
 the best and noblest of men, and that it was 
 consequently a great honour to find herself 
 thus singled out as the sole object of his 
 affection and regard, but also that she, in 
 her turn, was most devotedly attached to 
 
104 Charlie. 
 
 himself, and that hfe without him would 
 from henceforth be unendurable ! 
 
 She did not all at once take me into her full 
 confidence ; but I had previously seen and 
 heard quite enough to show me pretty 
 accurately how matters stood between them ; 
 and when she at last poured out her story 
 into my unwilling ears, and tried to persuade 
 me into the belief that she was doing a very 
 wise thing in thus consenting to marry Mr. 
 Green, I was not by any means surprised 
 either at the news itself, or the strangely 
 complacent way in which she alluded to this 
 contemplated change in her prospects. 
 
 I suppose my face must have expressed 
 more grief and despair than I was at the 
 moment aware of, for she suddenly inter- 
 rupted herself in the middle of a sentence 
 about her own happiness in having won the 
 love of so good and clever a man as Mr. 
 Green, and laying her hand kindly upon my 
 shoulder, she leant forward, and kissed me 
 very affectionately, saying, in a voice of 
 much emotion : 
 
 '' What makes you look like that, Charlie ? 
 Are you not glad to see me happy once 
 more V 
 
Chariges. 105 
 
 *' Ah ! if I only thought you would be 
 happy !" I could not help exclaiming ; '' but 
 oh, mother ! have you considered the matter 
 well ? — it will be too late by-and-by, you 
 know ;" and I gazed imploringly into her 
 face. 
 
 " My dear boy, of course I have !" she 
 said, in reply to my question, and there was 
 rather an annoyed inflexion in her voice ; '^ I 
 have thought of everything — even you 1' 
 Here she took my hand in hers and 
 smiled. 
 
 '' Never mind me," I hastily replied. 
 
 '' But I do mind you, dear," she interrupted, 
 in a kind voice, "it is my duty to mind you ; 
 and if I thought that this marriage would do 
 you harm, I w^ould break it off even now. 
 But I am quite sure," she went on cheerfully ^ 
 without giving me an opportunity of speaking, 
 ''it is the very best thing I can do for you 
 as well as myself; Mr. Green will be the 
 greatest possible assistance to you, and do for 
 you far more than I could ever have done." 
 
 " Oh, mother 1" I groaned, in the bitterness 
 of my spirit ; " is it possible that you can 
 have forgotten him,'' my trembling lips could 
 scarcely pronounce the word, '' alreadij '^" 
 
106 Charlie, 
 
 " Forgotten 1 of course not," she answered, 
 rather confusedly ; '' people don't so soon 
 forget; and Francis" (Mr. Green), "has no 
 dislike whatever to my talking about him." 
 
 " But has it ever occurred to you/' I 
 asked, making an effort to speak calmly, for 
 now that the ice was broken between us, I 
 thought I would take the opportunity of 
 setting matters before her in a plain and 
 practical light, so that she should not enter 
 upon so serious a step with her eyes shut to 
 the possible difficulties of her new position ; 
 " has it ever occurred to you, mother, that 
 Mr. Green's character is a very different one 
 from his ; and — I don't like saying it, but 
 please let me tell you what I really think, 
 just this once — instead of having your own 
 way, as you have always hitherto had, you 
 will find when you are married that your 
 husband will be your master. I am sure of 
 it," I added hurriedly, as she was about to 
 interrupt me, " and if you do not carry out 
 his wishes in everything, he will probably be 
 ^ cruel to you, for he is quite capable of it — 
 he has a cruel mouth, and would not hesitate 
 to ill-treat you !" 
 
 Poor Mrs. Joyce sat staring at me in 
 
Changes. 107 
 
 absolute amazement as I poured out these 
 incoherent words, and the colour flushed 
 over her face as she answered, after a 
 momentary ^ause : 
 
 " You surely must be raving, Charlie — 
 cruel, indeed 1 and he so fond of me !" 
 
 I shook my head gloomily, but made no 
 other response ; and she went on presently, in 
 rather an ao-grieved tone : 
 
 " You see, you never did like Mr. Green, 
 and cannot therefore do him justice." 
 
 '* If you really and truly marry him, I will 
 do my very best to treat him with the re- 
 spect due to your husband," I returned, in a 
 grave, sorrowful voice ; " but oh ! I would 
 give the world if you had never met him !" 
 
 ''It is useless talking of that now," was 
 the hasty reply. " Everything is settled ; 
 and in another week or two he will be my 
 husband." 
 
 " So soon V I despairingly ejaculated. 
 
 " We shall continue to live here," pro- 
 ceeded Mrs. Joyce, looking complacently 
 round the tidy little sitting-room. 
 
 " Ah, yes ; I suppose so," I answered 
 chokingly. 
 
 "And you must just cheer up and make 
 
108 Charlie. 
 
 the best of thino-s," she went on, encour- 
 agingly ; '' and I dare say after a while you 
 will be able to appreciate him better." 
 
 Privately I very mnch doubted whether I 
 should ever be able, with all my efforts, to 
 regard her future husband with anything but 
 simple detestation. There was no use in 
 telling her this, however, so I held my peace, 
 not wishing to render her more uncomfortable 
 than I could help ; and yet, at the same 
 time, miserably conscious that whatever she 
 might say and think to the contrary, my in- 
 stincts had not deceived me, and that sooner 
 or later she would rue the day when she 
 had consented to become Francis Green's 
 wife. 
 
 '^ I hope 3'Ou are not jealous, Charlie !" 
 suddenly exclaimed my companion, in the 
 tone of one who has quite unexpectedly 
 arrived at the solution of a difficult problem ; 
 '^ you surely do not think that I shall love 
 you less because I have made up my mind to 
 marrv attain V 
 
 " It is not mvself I am troublino- about," I 
 answered sadly ; "I could go away, you 
 know, and get my own living if it seemed 
 desirable, or if Mr. Green ill-treated me ; but 
 
Changes. 109 
 
 in your case it will be so different ; whatever 
 he might do, you would be bound as his wife 
 to put up with it." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense, my dear, you really 
 do not know what you are talking about !" 
 was the quick retort ; ^' your illness has made 
 you morbid." 
 
 '' I'm afraid my illness has nothing to say 
 to it," I replied, with the air of one who feels 
 he has utterly failed in accomplishing his 
 purpose ; " but I suppose, under the circum- 
 stances, I had better say no more on the 
 subject, and I can only hope " — I added 
 this as gently and affectionately as I could' — 
 ^' that you may be happy !" 
 
 Then I went up to her and kissed her, 
 feeling all the time as if my own heart was 
 breaking, so sad and sorrowful was I at the 
 idea of seeing the place so lately occupied by 
 her sainted husband, whom I had loved and 
 reverenced and esteemed almost from my 
 infancy, and looked upon as little short of 
 perfection, appropriated by a man who was 
 not, in my opinion at least, worthy to be 
 mentioned even in connection with him. 
 
 I never thought of actually blaming Mrs. 
 Joyce for thus contemplating a second 
 
110 Charlie. 
 
 niarriao^e, although I ^v^ondered most pro- 
 foundly at the extreme bad taste which could 
 lead her to be satisfied with a man so un- 
 mistakably inferior in mind, manner, and 
 appearance to what her first husband had 
 been. 
 
 How could she, I bitterly asked myself, 
 tolerate the coarse-minded Mr. Green for a 
 sino"le moment, after havinof' been accustomed 
 for so many years to hold the closest and 
 most loving intercourse with so gentle and 
 refined a spirit as that which had character- 
 ised her first husband ? It was utterly in- 
 credible to me how any w^oman in the full 
 possession of her senses could deliberately 
 make up her mind to act as she was doing ; 
 and yet I knew how thoroughly well-mean- 
 ing she was, how kind and unselfish in many 
 ways, and how utterly incapable of conniving 
 at anything like wickedness or deceit. 
 
 It must, I at last decided, be nothing more 
 or less than a case of sheer infatuation. Mr. 
 Green, with his specious manner and civil 
 flowery speeches, having contrived to throw 
 a glamour over her, inducing her to regard 
 him not as he really was, but as he ought to 
 have been, and give him credit for excellen- 
 
Changes. Ill 
 
 cies which had never bek)nged to him — in- 
 vesting^ hmi, in fact, with all those mental 
 and moral quahfications which had belonged 
 in so eminent a degree to the late Mr. Joyce, 
 who Avas as utterly unlike her present ad- 
 mirer as light is from darkness. 
 
 Mingling with my affection there was from 
 henceforth a kind of half contemptuous pity 
 for the woman who could so easily mistake 
 the false for the true, and havmg once known 
 what real sterling: worth was. could thus 
 complacently content herself with its counter- 
 feit. 
 
 Still, I was particularly careful not to allow 
 her to suspect that any such change had 
 taken place in my feelings, and I made up 
 my mind that for the sake of the past, and 
 all that she had done for me, I would try by 
 every means in my power to crush out of my 
 heart all those bitter and vindictive thoughts 
 which I had hitherto rather encourao^ed than 
 otherwise, with reofarcl to the man who was 
 so soon to become her husband. 
 
 Accordingly I met him when next he made 
 his appearance in our midst in a ver}^ diffe- 
 rent spirit to that which I had formerly 
 manifested toward him, and I could see bv 
 
112 Charlie. 
 
 the sudden dilating of the greenish blue eyes, 
 and the pecuhar smile which came to the 
 cruel mouth, that he perfectly comprehended 
 what had happened, and rather enjoyed the 
 thought of my discomfiture. 
 
 His words, however, when he spoke, were 
 quite sufficiently civil to justify Mrs. Joyce 
 in the significantly triumphant glance Vv^hich 
 she directed towards me, as if to call my 
 attention to the fact that, however I miofht 
 abuse him, he, at any rate, was kindly dis- 
 posed tovv'ards myself; but I understood 
 quite well what it all meant, and knew that 
 although he might, for reasons of his own, 
 pretend just then to treat me Avith apparent 
 courtesy and politeness, it was by no means 
 a sign that he cared for me any more than I 
 did for himself. 
 
 And vet he exerted himself more than I 
 had ever known him do before to be a 
 pleasant and agreeable companion ; inquired 
 with an air of the greatest solicitude after 
 my health, called Mrs. Joyce's attention to 
 the fact of my having grown very consider- 
 ably during my late illness, and facetiously 
 remarked that if I continued to make such 
 rapid progress in this respect T should very 
 
Changes. 113 
 
 soon attain to man s estate — an observation 
 which his matronly ^a?icec responded to with 
 the utmost seriousness ; and then the conver- 
 sation took another and more general turn, 
 until at length I made an excuse for leaving 
 them, and retired to mv own room to reflect 
 over this new phase in my history, and try 
 to become accustomed to the idea of seeing 
 Mr. Green formally installed as undisputed 
 master of our little cottage home. 
 
 A week later they were married; and 
 directly the solemn ceremony was over they 
 set out for London, Mr. Green having ob- 
 tained a fortnight's holiday for the purpose ; 
 and as he happened to have some private 
 affairs of his own which required his presence 
 in the metropolis, he thought it would be a 
 good opportunity to make the same journey 
 serve the double purpose of a bridal and busi- 
 ness trip. 
 
 During their absence I was left in charge 
 of the house at Saltsea, and, had it not been 
 for my books and the long country walks in 
 which I still delighted (notwithstanding the 
 melancholy fact of my having lost the dear 
 friend and companion who had been wont in 
 
 VOL. I. 8 
 
114 Charlie. 
 
 the old days to share them with me), I should 
 have been lonely indeed. 
 
 As it was, I often felt melancholy and 
 depressed in spirit, as I held strange com- 
 munings with myself; now recalling with an 
 almost painfully vivid intensity the bright- 
 ness and beauty of the past ; now over- 
 whelmed with gloomy thick-coming fears 
 with regard to the future ; now trying to 
 comfort myself into the belief that my vague 
 forebodings as to Mr. Green's tyrannical 
 propensities would turn out to be merely the 
 fanciful wanderings of my own distorted im- 
 agination ; and then again relapsing into a 
 state of intolerable restlessness and suspense, 
 which seemed rather to increase than diminish 
 as the time approached for the newly married 
 pair to return. 
 
 I did not receive one single line from Mrs. 
 Green during their fortnight's absence, but 
 the day before that fixed for their home- 
 coming a post-card reached me in her hus- 
 band's handwriting, merely mentioning the 
 train by which they expected to arrive, and 
 curtly requesting me to meet them at the 
 Saltsea station. 
 
 There was no message from his wife ; no 
 
Changes, 115 
 
 word even of kindness on his own part ; but 
 then one does not expect as a rule to meet 
 with anything in the shape of sentiment upon 
 post-cards 1 I had therefore no reasonable 
 grounds for finding fault, and took myself 
 severely to task for the disappointment I 
 nevertheless could not help feeling at the 
 omission. 
 
 During the remainder of that day I could 
 not settle to anything ; and after my early 
 tea I set out for a walk, carrying the ob- 
 noxious ^' card " in my pocket. 
 
 Instinctively I directed my steps to the 
 churchyard, intending to descend to the sea- 
 shore, according to my usual custom, by 
 means of the cliff, which, as I have already 
 exj)lained, led directly down upon it. 
 
 Midway down the dusky avenue, however, 
 I paused, as I had done a hundred times 
 before, for the purpose of paying a passing 
 visit to my mother's grave, which had now a 
 double attraction for me, inasmuch as the 
 spot selected for Mr. Joyce's final resting- 
 place was close beside her own, having been 
 long ago marked out by himself as the place 
 of all others which he should wish to occupy 
 when he too should be called upon to lay 
 
 8—2 
 
116 Charlie. 
 
 down his life's burden and exchange the 
 storm-laden atmosphere of earth for that 
 " far serener clime " of which he used to 
 think and speak so lovingly, and for which 
 he was, I doubted not, most thoroughly pre- 
 pared. 
 
 I was thinking of all this as I stood still, 
 gazing upon the modest little tombstone 
 erected to my ill-starred mother's memory, and 
 recalling as in a dream the various occasions 
 on which I had visited that very spot in com- 
 pany with the never-to-be-forgotten friend 
 w^ho now lay side by side with herself. 
 
 Each word as it had fallen from his lips 
 seemed now to return to me with fresh force 
 and distinctness ; and as my eyes rested once 
 more upon the familiar and significantly 
 expressive sentence, which he had himself 
 caused to be inscribed below those two mys- 
 terious initial letters, wiiich, so far as I was 
 personally concerned, meant so little, I felt 
 a sort of strange calm descending upon my 
 hitherto restless and perturbed spirit, making 
 me recognise more vividly than I had ever 
 before done the littleness of time and the 
 vastness of eternity. 
 
 I was so absorbed in my own reflections 
 
Changes, 117 
 
 that I quite started when I presently heard 
 a well-known voice asking rather aggrievedly : 
 
 ^^ Well, boy ; are you not going to speak 
 to us 1" 
 
 '^ Oh, I beg your pardon," I answered, 
 starting slightly, and turning apologetically 
 round on recognising Miss Vaughan and her 
 governess ; '* I had no idea you were here. 
 It is a long time since I have seen you," I 
 added, after we had shaken hands. 
 
 *^ Yes, you were ill, you know," explained 
 the young lady, regarding me with an air of 
 condescending interest, '* and Miss Belmont 
 would not let me call and see you, though I 
 wanted her to, several times," 
 
 *' No, of course not," I answered. '' It 
 would not have been safe." 
 
 ^^ You are quite strong again now, I hope ?" 
 kindly observed the governess. 
 
 *^Yes, thank you," was my grateful 
 reply. 
 
 ^' How tall you are," exclaimed her young 
 companion, regarding me with a curiously 
 investigating glance. 
 
 ^'Yes, they tell me that I have grown 
 very much lately," I answ^ered, consciously 
 colouring under her scrutiny. 
 
118 Charlie. 
 
 ^' How old are you 1" inquired Miss Bel- 
 mont, with a pleasant smile. 
 
 *^ Not quite fifteen," I replied ; ^' but I feel 
 so much older." 
 
 '^ Yes, I dare say you do," she responded ; 
 "you have had a peculiar bringing up, you 
 see ; and under any circumstances I suspect 
 your disposition would have developed much 
 sooner than that of most boys of your age." 
 
 " I don't like it much," volunteered Miss 
 Laura. 
 
 '^ What don't you like ?" I asked in per- 
 plexity. 
 
 "Why, seeing you grow so big and tall," 
 she candidly explained. 
 
 "There is no harm in that," I quickly re- 
 torted ; "a man ought to be big, I think." 
 
 " But you are not a man," she j)romptly 
 amended ; " you are only a boy." 
 
 " I suppose if I live I shall be a man before 
 long," I replied, feeling at that moment as if 
 my boyhood had long ago disappeared. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," she dubiously as- 
 sented ; " but I like boys best." 
 
 " Do you ?" I asked, rather absently. 
 
 " Poor Mr. Joyce is dead," she continued, 
 with one of those swift changes of subject 
 
Changes. 119 
 
 which invariably characterised her ; '' I am 
 so sorry," and the lovely violet orbs grew 
 tender and sympathetic. 
 
 '^ Yes/' I answered, almost without know- 
 ing what I said ; " and his widow has married 
 again." 
 
 It is just possible that Miss Belmont may 
 have detected a ring of bitterness in my tone, 
 for she turned her spectacled eyes upon me 
 with an expression of suddenly awakened 
 interest, and asked kindly : 
 
 " Do you not like this Mr. Green T 
 
 ^' Like him T I repeated hastily, and with 
 a half sob ; *' no ; I don't care for him at all." 
 
 '^ My poor boy I that is a trial ;" and she 
 laid her hand kindly upon my arm. 
 
 ^^ Isn't he nice ?" demanded the younger 
 lady, coming close up to me, and gazing wist- 
 fully into my face. 
 
 '' Well, if he is only kind to her, I don't 
 care," I answered, manfully trying to shake 
 off my emotion and speak hopefully ; " you 
 see," I added, half apologetically, and I once 
 more turned towards Miss Belmont, " he " — 
 pointing significantly to Mr. Joyce's grave — 
 '^ was everything to me ; and it is not easy to 
 forget." 
 
120 Charlie. 
 
 '* No, of course not," she answered kindly. 
 "' Still, you must not dwell too exclusively 
 on your own loss ; it will only make you 
 miserable, and can do no possible good to 
 anyone else." 
 
 I bowed my head assentingly, but could 
 not trust myself to speak just then, and she 
 went on, in gentle, reassuring tones : 
 
 ^' You will meet him again some day, you 
 know, and in the meantime you must be 
 patient." 
 
 I tried to smile, but failed miserably in the 
 attempt ; seeing which. Miss Belmont con- 
 tinued softly : 
 
 " Mr. and Mrs. Green are away just now, 
 are they not ?" 
 
 *^ Yes ; but they return to-morrow," I re- 
 plied, in a low, constrained voice. 
 
 ^' And you can't bear the idea of meeting 
 them under such chang^ed circumstances ?" 
 she quickly exclaimed. 
 
 ^' Yes, that's just it," I frankly con- 
 fessed ; '^ I'm so much afraid of saying or 
 doing something wrong, and hurting her 
 feelings." 
 
 ^^ Oh, there's no fear of your doing that, I 
 should think," w^as the encouraging response ; 
 
Changes. 121 
 
 '' you are too much attached to her to run the 
 risk of vexing her." 
 
 '^Well, I hope so," I hesitated; '^but I 
 can't help hating the man who has made her 
 so soon forget her first husband." 
 
 "But, my dear boy, you must do your 
 very best to banish the remembrance of all 
 this from your memory." 
 
 " I am trying as hard as ever I can," I 
 moodily assured her ; " but you don't know 
 how difficult it is." 
 
 " I am sure it is — most difficult," she 
 hastened to admit ; " still, it is not impossible, 
 you know." 
 
 I looked at her rather incredulously, but 
 said nothing ; and she went on, after a 
 moment's pause : ^' You remember what the 
 Apostle Paul said : ^ I can do all things 
 through Christ, which strengtheneth me.' " 
 
 "Yes," I replied, not half comprehending 
 her meaning. 
 
 " Of ourselves we are quite unable to do 
 anything that is good ; but with His assis- 
 tance there is nothing too hard for u^. If 
 you ask Him, therefore, He will help you to 
 bear this trial, and perhaps it may eventually 
 turn out even for your good." 
 
122 Charlie. 
 
 Privately I was not very hopeful of any 
 such desirable consummation being reached, 
 but I looked upon her with too much respect 
 to venture to dispute her opinion, and after 
 a little more conversation on the same sub- 
 ject, and a condescending intimation from 
 Miss Laura that she intended paying Mrs. 
 Green and myself a visit before long, we 
 separated. Miss Belmont and her charge 
 proceeding in one direction, while 1 hastened 
 off in the other. 
 
Persecution. 123 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 PERSECUTION. 
 
 " Hatred is a slow continuing crime, a fire in the bad 
 man's breast ; 
 A dull and hungry flame, for ever craving, insatiate. 
 Hatred would harm another." 
 
 " Shall I lay perjury upon my soul ?" 
 
 " Never do anything concerning the rectitude of which 
 you have a doubt." 
 
 I DID not, after all, go to the station to meet 
 Mr. and Mrs. Green, as in consequence of 
 their having made some change in their 
 arrangements they happened to arrive by 
 an earlier train to that which they had in- 
 tended, and came suddenly in upon me, there- 
 fore, nearly two hours before I was expecting 
 them. 
 
124 Chay^lie. 
 
 On first getting sight of them I forgot 
 every other feeUng in the pleasure I naturally 
 experienced in once more welcoming the 
 friend who had for so many years acted the 
 part of a kind and indulgent mother towards 
 me, and I sprang forward to meet her with 
 an exclamation of irrepressible delight. 
 
 Just for the space of half a minute her 
 arms were thrown lovingly around me, and 
 her lips pressed affectionately upon my cheek. 
 
 Then she released me with rather an abrupt 
 movement, and glanced nervously towards her 
 husband, as if not quite sure whether he would 
 altogether approve of so demonstrative a 
 greeting. 
 
 He said nothing, however ; only shook 
 hands with me, with a lofty condescending 
 air, and having performed this brief cere- 
 mony, he proceeded to make himself at 
 home. 
 
 As the evening advanced, I could not help 
 furtively regarding the recently married pair, 
 and the more I looked the more strongly was 
 it impressed upon my mind that poor Mrs. 
 Green was already beginning to be somewhat 
 afraid of her new husband. 
 
 There was a timid, irresolute expression 
 
Persecution, 125 
 
 upon her face, which it had never previously 
 worn, and she seemed particularly anxious to 
 avoid saying or doing anything which could 
 possibly have the effect of giving him offence. 
 
 This discovery did not, as may be imagined, 
 tend to add to my own happiness ; but I was 
 wise enough to understand that if I wished 
 to be of any practical help or comfort to her, 
 I must put a strong curb upon myself, and 
 not allow Mr. Green to notice that I had ob- 
 served any peculiarity in her manner or ap- 
 pearance, much less that I suspected him of 
 not being kind to her. 
 
 Accordingly, I did my very utmost to keep 
 my own feelings under control, and look and 
 speak just as if everything was going on in 
 the most satisfactory manner, and it was very 
 fortunate for me that I was thus able to pre- 
 serve my equanimity and prevent my new 
 master (for as such I instinctively recognised 
 him) from obtaining an insight into my real 
 sentiments, as I plainly perceived that he was 
 quite prepared to act an aggressive part to- 
 wards me, if he could only find the shadow of 
 excuse for so doing. 
 
 Every now and then I caught his eyes 
 fixed upon me with a shrewd and penetrating 
 
12G Charlie. 
 
 expression, as if he wanted to discover just 
 what I was thinking about ; and whenever he 
 addressed me it was in a sharp incisive tone 
 very different to the bland and insinuating 
 language he had been accustomed to make 
 use of before his marriage. 
 
 He seemed particularly anxious to prevent 
 Mrs. Green from holding any private commu- 
 nication with me, and never once left us to- 
 gether, even for a moment, until it was time 
 for us to separate for the night. 
 
 The next morning he rose from his seat as 
 soon as he had swallowed his breakfast, and 
 said, addressing me with a half- sneer : 
 
 " Now, Charlie, get your hat and come 
 with me ; it is high time that you should 
 see something of the world." 
 
 ■ '^ What do you mean V I asked ; a sudden 
 unpleasant sensation stealing over me. 
 
 " I mean, of course, to take you with me 
 to the school," he answered sharply ; '' what 
 else ? You surely don't suppose that you are 
 always going to lead the life of a fine gentle- 
 man, with a private tutor of your own to 
 help you with your education V 
 
 As he said this our eyes met, and like a 
 revelation it appeared to me what he really 
 
Persecution, 127 
 
 wanted. He knew perfectly well that the 
 village school was no fit place for me ; that I 
 had already gone far beyond himself on many 
 of the subjects in which he professed to be 
 proficient ; his sole object, therefore, was to 
 annoy and humiliate me, and goad me into 
 saying or doing something which would 
 justify him in treating me with any amount 
 of severity. 
 
 Never in all my life was I so sorely tempted 
 as at that moment ! Never before did I find 
 it so difficult to keep back my rising temper, 
 and maintain that ^* golden" silence which 
 was, I knew, my only safeguard, if I wanted 
 to avoid an open quarrel with the man who, 
 having obtained all he wanted, had now no 
 further object in acting towards me with even 
 the semblance of courtesy. 
 
 Under other circumstances I do not think 
 I could possibly have restrained myself from 
 making some reply to the mortifying announce- 
 ment he had so suddenly made; but one glance 
 at Mrs. Green's pale, half-scared face made me 
 set my lips firmly together, and inwardly re- 
 solve that, whatever my own personal feelings 
 might be, she, at any rate, should be spared 
 from all unnecessary anxiety on my account, 
 
128 Charlie. 
 
 as she would. I strongly suspected, have quite 
 enough to put up with in other ways. 
 
 While I was thus battling with my own 
 emotion, and trying hard to appear calm and 
 unmoved in look and manner, I was uncom- 
 fortably conscious that the schoolmaster's 
 greenish-blue eyes were fixed with a sort of 
 triumphant satisfaction upon my face, as if he 
 could read just what was passing within me, 
 and was only too glad to think he possessed 
 the means of inflicting this mental torture by 
 way, I suppose, of paying me out for having 
 in the first instance tried to dissuade poor 
 infatuated Mrs. Joyce from becoming his 
 wife. ' 
 
 '^Now, are you ready?" he presently ob- 
 served, in a voice which warned me that he 
 was not to be trifled with ; " because there is 
 no time to be lost ;" and he glanced impa- 
 tiently at the clock. 
 
 " Yes, I won't keep you a moment," I an- 
 swered as composedly as I could speak ; and 
 I went into the narrow passage, and took 
 down my cap from the peg which it usually 
 occupied. 
 
 I was just setting off with him, when some 
 curious imjDulse made me look back before 
 
Persecution, 129 
 
 closing the door, and as I did so 1 caught 
 poor Mrs. Green's eyes fixed upon me with 
 such a sad deprecating expression that I was 
 constrained to call out, in a voice of forced 
 cheerfulness : 
 
 " Good-bye, mother ; I hope you won't be 
 dull." 
 
 ^'Good-bye," she faintly responded, but low 
 though the tones were, I fancied she was 
 pleased at my being thus able to accept my 
 new position with at least an outward show 
 of contentment. 
 
 ^^ I'll tell you what it is," snarled my com- 
 panion, as soon as we had reached the little 
 garden ; "you may just as well give up calling 
 her mother." 
 
 " Very well," I acquiesced, still determined, 
 if I could, to keep my temper. 
 
 " You see, she's no relation at all to you," 
 he proceeded, with a spiteful sort of a sneer ; 
 " there's no use, therefore, m going on if she 
 was." 
 
 *' I'll call her Mrs. Green for the future," 
 I quietly responded ; and then I waited 
 patiently to hear what would come next. 
 
 " Such perfect nonsense as it was, saddling 
 themselves with the child of no-one-knows 
 
 VOL. I. 9 
 
130 Charlie. 
 
 who," he muttered, more for his own benefit 
 apparently than mine. '* I cannot think what 
 possessed them to do it." 
 
 To this ungracious sentiment I ventured no 
 rejoinder, although I felt strongly tempted to 
 remind him that whatever reference the pre- 
 sent and the future might personally bear to 
 himself, he had at any rate no right to inter- 
 fere with regard to the arrangements of the 
 past. 
 
 "As you are here, however," he continued, 
 after a short pause, *' I suppose we must just 
 put up with it as best we can ; but I shall 
 certainly expect you to make yourself useful." 
 And having thus expressed his own ideas on 
 the subject, he relapsed into silence, and did 
 not again open his lips until we reached the 
 village school-house. 
 
 Many were the sharp inquisitive glances 
 which were directed towards me as I entered 
 it in his company, and I could hear more than 
 one half-whispered comment on my unex- 
 pected appearance ; but I sat quietly down 
 in the spot which my companion indicated, 
 and without taking any apparent notice of 
 the manifest surprise of the rough fisher lads, 
 who already more than half-filled the unpre- 
 
Persecution. 131 
 
 tending-looking building waited, with as much 
 calmness and patience as I could muster to 
 discover what was further expected of me. 
 
 Tongue could not express what I suffered 
 during the next few days. At every turn I 
 w^as made the victim of Mr. Green's tyran- 
 nical exactions and bitter, insultinsf invec- 
 tives. 
 
 Before the whole school I was held up to 
 ridicule, sometimes openly, sometimes covertly. 
 I was given tasks to do which the most igno- 
 rant could easily have got through, and then, 
 when I forced myself to lay my pride aside 
 and recommence these rudimentary studies, 
 which, under the circumstances of the case, 
 were nothing more or less than a farce and 
 mockery, Mr. Green would continually point 
 out various purely imaginary mistakes, and 
 insist on maintaining that all my previous 
 education had been entirely thrown away, 
 and that, in point of fact, I knew literally 
 nothing. 
 
 His object evidently was to make me openly 
 rebel au^ainst his cruel and unfair treatment of 
 me ; and often and often I fancied I must 
 break through those strictly pacific rules 
 which I had hitherto followed with regard 
 
 9—2 
 
132 Charlie. 
 
 to him, and rid him altogether of my 
 presence. 
 
 It was the thought of his poor wife which 
 restrained me, as I could not help feeling that 
 I was a sort of comfort to her. Not that she 
 ever took me into her confidence, or told nie 
 in so many words that her second marriage 
 had proved a mistake ; bat I could plainly 
 see by her whole manner that she was tho- 
 roughly afraid of the man who had so artfully 
 contrived to insinuate himself into her good 
 graces, and made her look upon him not as 
 he actually was, but as he pretended to be, 
 so long as it suited his purpose to cajole and 
 deceive her. 
 
 Now he had thrown oflf the mask, and 
 shown himself in his true colours — spiteful, 
 tyrannical, and intensely jealous and suspi- 
 cious, without a single redeeming point in his 
 character to make him appear in anything but 
 an unamiable light, or encourage us to hope 
 that there was a chance of his improving as 
 time passed on, or becoming even a trifle less 
 arbitrary and exacting. 
 
 So far as I was personally concerned, there 
 was no disguising the fact, that for some 
 reason or other he had conceived the most 
 
Persecution. 133 
 
 violent aversion to me, and was always on the 
 look-ont to detect some real or fictitious 
 ground of complaint against me. 
 
 If he had been content to persecute me 
 during school hours, I could have borne it 
 better, although even that was sufficiently 
 unendurable ; but what distressed me more 
 than anything else was the pertinacious way 
 in which he persisted in quarrelling with me 
 before his wife, pouring into her unwilling 
 ear a never-ending account of my numerous 
 delinquencies, and almost forcing her, as it 
 were, either to side with him against me, or 
 else bring down upon herself the vials of her 
 husband's displeasure ; thus rendering her 
 position a more painful and uncomfortable 
 one than ever, and making her realise, with 
 mortifying significance, how completely she 
 was in his power, and how little idea he had 
 of studying her feelings or being guided in 
 any way by her opinions. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe the many 
 painful scenes which I was called upon to go 
 through during the next few months. Even 
 yet I shudder at the all-too-vivid recollection 
 of the systematic course of despotic treat- 
 ment to which I was subjected ; and it would 
 
134 Charlie. 
 
 be neither pleasant nor profitable for my 
 readers to have their attention too closely 
 directed to this particular part of my history. 
 
 I will draw a curtain over it, therefore, 
 merely observing that it was for Mrs. Green's 
 sake rather than my own that I put up with 
 it as long as I did ; as, in spite of the serious 
 drawbacks which I have mentioned, I still 
 fancied that she derived a certain amount of 
 comfort and satisfaction in having me with 
 her, although, as time passed on, her terror of 
 her husband increased to that degree that 
 she was afraid to address a word to me in bis 
 presence, afraid even to look at me, lest she 
 should thereby incur his displeasure. 
 
 Whenever we happened, however, by some 
 happy chance, to find ourselves alone together, 
 she more than made up to me for the en- 
 forced constraint of her usual manner, and 
 showed me plainly enough, by the warmth 
 and tenderness which invariably characterised 
 her on these rare occasions, that in spite of 
 the pressure which her husband had brought 
 to bear upon her, in spite of the constant 
 abuse which he heaped upon my unoffending 
 head, and the shameful way in which he 
 misrepresented my motives, and tried to 
 
Persecution, 135 
 
 make her regard me in the same distorted 
 light as he did himself, her affection for me 
 had undergone no shadow of change, but 
 that she felt towards me just as she had 
 always done, and only regretted being com- 
 pelled through the force of circumstances to 
 keep back all outward demonstration of her 
 sentiments when in the tyrant's much- 
 dreaded presence. 
 
 I still continued to accompany him every 
 day to the school, but he very soon ceased to 
 go through the farce of pretending even to 
 interest himself in my education, preferring 
 rather to make use of me in a hundred diffe- 
 rent ways, converting me, in short, into a 
 kind of scholastic drudge ; forcing me to per- 
 form the most humiliating offices, and never 
 by word or look vouchsafing to treat me with 
 anything save that of absolute scorn and 
 brutality. 
 
 He never neglected an opportunity of in- 
 sulting me before the other boys, and scarcely 
 a day passed that I did not suffer in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 Still, he had not resorted as yet to actual 
 blows, being deterred, perhaps, by the con- 
 sciousness that if he once adopted that course 
 
136 Charlie, 
 
 it miglit, on the whole, react unfavourably 
 upon his own prospects, as it would enable 
 me, if I felt so disposed, to complain of him 
 to Mr. Vaughan, whose influence in the 
 parish was quite sufficient to get him turned 
 out of the post he occupied, and who, being, 
 moreover, unmistakably interested in myself 
 (on account, I suppose, of the fortunate 
 chance which had led to my rescuing his 
 idolised daughter from a watery grave), as 
 evidenced by his periodical visits, and the 
 minute inquiries he from time to time insti- 
 tuted regarding me, would be sure to resent 
 the slightest approach to anything like actual 
 violence, and probably adopt measures for 
 having him ignominiously ejected from his 
 present situation. 
 
 One morning, however, it so happened that 
 I had unintentionally caused him the direst 
 and most unmitigated offence, by pronounc- 
 ing a certain exercise (which he had already, 
 without my knowledge, examined and pro- 
 fessed himself quite satisfied with) full of the 
 grossest mistakes. 
 
 Having corrected it, I handed it to the 
 boy who had written it, and was about to 
 proceed in like manner with the rest of the 
 
Persecution. 137 
 
 pile, which had been, as I supposed, placed 
 ready as usua] for my inspection, when Mr. 
 Green came furiously up to me, and demanded 
 what I was doing. 
 
 '* Correcting these," I mildly explained, 
 while I pointed to the ill-written scrawls 
 which lay on the table before me. '^ You 
 told me yesterday " 
 
 " I don't care a straw what I told you 
 yesterday," was the exasperated interruption; 
 "you must have known perfectly well that 
 I have myself already looked over them." 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon," I answered, in 
 surprise ; *' I understood you to say " 
 
 ^' It does not signify in the very least 
 what you may have understood," he retorted, 
 without allowing me to finish my sentence ; 
 and he put out his hand with an imperative 
 gesture, and seized the paper which I had so 
 lately revised out of its owner's hand, greatly 
 to the poor boy's trepidation, as he seemed 
 by his looks to be in terror lest he also should 
 come in for a share of the irate schoolmaster's 
 displeasure. 
 
 '' How dare you have the presumption to 
 set up your opinion in opposition to mine ?" 
 proceeded Mr. Green, in a voice of concen- 
 
138 Charlie, 
 
 trated passion, after he had cursorily ex- 
 amined the freshly corrected exercise. 
 
 " I had no idea you had even seen it," I 
 replied, speakin^f as quietly as I could. 
 
 " I don't believe a word of it," he sneered ; 
 and there was a dangerous look in his eyes 
 which showed him to be in a worse mood 
 than usual. '' Now/' he added presently, in 
 a bitter, sarcastic voice, " you will kindly sit 
 down and write out this exercise yourself 
 just as you found it, without any of your 
 own stupid corrections." 
 
 '^Yery well," I responded, taking up a 
 pen and preparing to obey his behest. 
 
 **And you will just add a note at the 
 bottom of the page," he went on slowly and 
 significantly, "to the effect that you have 
 made a great mistake in meddling with it at 
 all, and that it was quite right as it at first 
 stood." 
 
 " I cannot do that," I observed, in a per- 
 fectly respectful though firm voice, "as it 
 would not be the truth." 
 
 Again that dangerous glitter in his eyes 
 warned me that he was in one of his most 
 implacable humours ; but careful though I 
 always was to give him no unnecessary 
 
Persecution. 139 
 
 ground of offence, I felt that I could not 
 possibly reconcile it to my own conscience 
 were I to follow his p^sent suggestion, and 
 utter what I knew to be a deliberate false- 
 hood. 
 
 '^ You ivill not, I suppose you mean ?" he 
 hissed between his closed teeth ; '* but I shall 
 teach you a lesson which may do you good, 
 and make you beware how you attempt to 
 defy me for the future." 
 
 Here, forgetting all his previous caution, 
 he sprang upon me with a sudden movement, 
 for which I was totally unprepared, and with 
 one stunning blow felled me to the ground, 
 and before I had sufficiently recovered my 
 consciousness to realise what had occurred, 
 he had seized a heavy riding- whip, which 
 happened to stand conveniently near him, 
 and began to belabour me so unmercifully 
 that I must have fainted with the pain, for 
 I remembered nothing more until, about half 
 an hour later, I opened my eyes and found 
 myself lying upon a sofa in a strange room, 
 with Mr. Maxwell bending over me, ap- 
 parently engaged in bandaging an ugly 
 wound which had been inflicted on my head ; 
 while a quaintly-dressed, kindly-featured, 
 
140 Charlie. 
 
 elderly female hovered about in the back- 
 ground, evidently ready to volunteer her 
 services if needed, and yet not wishing to 
 make a fuss by manifesting too much anxiety 
 on the occasion. 
 
 " Lie still, there's a good lad," soothingly 
 exclaimed the doctor, as I made a movement 
 as if to struggle to a sitting posture. 
 
 " Where am I ?" I inquired, in accents of 
 bewilderment, not being as yet able to recall 
 to mind what had occurred. 
 
 *' Well, at the present moment you are 
 monopolising my dining-room sofa," was the 
 good-humoured reply ; " but you won't re- 
 quire the loan of that long, I can tell you," 
 and having given me this cheering assurance, 
 he once more proceeded with deft fingers to 
 arrange the bandage. 
 
 '^ What is the matter with me ?" I de 
 manded ; and then it all came suddenly back 
 upon me, and 1 added hastily : *' Oh, 1 re- 
 member now." 
 
 *' I would not bother myself about it, if I 
 were you," kindly returned Mr. Maxwell ; 
 "just shut your eyes again and try to 
 forget." 
 
 " How did I happen to come into your 
 
Persecution. 141 
 
 hands ?" I inquired, quite ignoring this sage 
 advice. ^' I should scarcely have thought 
 Mr. Green would have sent for you." 
 
 "Well, it is just possible that he did not 
 send for me," explained the gentleman, with 
 a grim smile. " The fact is," he continued 
 seriously, as he gazed speculatively in my 
 face, '^ one of the younger boys was so 
 frightened at what was going on that he 
 watched his opportunity, and the very mo- 
 ment he could do so without beino- detected, 
 he made his escape, and as good luck would 
 have it, he met me in the village street, and 
 confided to me the startling intelligence that 
 Mr. Green was murdering you. I lost no 
 time, therefore, in making my own unex- 
 pected and most unwelcome appearance upon 
 the scene ; and finding that you were de- 
 cidedly in want of my professional services, 
 I insisted on carrying you off with me. So 
 now you have the whole story, and I hope 
 you will show your gratitude for my timely 
 assistance by getting well as soon as possible." 
 
 " There's nothing wrong with me, I think," 
 I answered, essaying to smile, " only my 
 head feels dizzy when I try to move it, and 
 my back is smarting terribly." 
 
142 Charlie. 
 
 ^' Of course it is, my poor boy," was the 
 sympathetic rejoinder, and Mr. Maxwell 
 exchanged a rapid glance with the elderly 
 female, who shook her head, and pressed her 
 lips severely together, as if in righteous in- 
 dignation. 
 
 " It is the first time he ever did that," I 
 muttered, a tide of passionate emotion coming 
 over me, " and it shall be the last. I will 
 never go back to him again — never /" 
 
 '* There is no reason why you should," en- 
 couragingly answered Mr Maxwell ; " you 
 are quite old enough to do something for 
 yourself now, and he has of course no possible 
 claim upon you." 
 
 Then, seeing, 1 suppose, that I was inclined 
 to become excited, he made some excuse for 
 leaving me to myself, and did not again re- 
 turn to me for a considerable time. 
 
Perplexity. 143 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PERPLEXITY. 
 
 " How poor are they that have not patience ! 
 What wound did ever heal but by degrees ?" 
 
 " I have some wounds upon me, and they smart 
 To hear themselves remembered." 
 
 During Mr. Maxwell's absence my thoughts 
 were of a very mingled nature. 
 
 Anger, fierce and ungoverna;ble, took pos- 
 session of me from time to time, making me 
 look upon the man who had thus insulted 
 and humiliated me with something which 
 was very nearly akin to hatred. A thirst 
 for revenge, too, ca.me welling up in my 
 heart, and I fancied I could bear my present 
 burden better if I was only assured that he 
 would suffer in some way or other from his 
 
144 Cliarlie, 
 
 late cowardly attack upon me. Then acrain 
 the remembrance of poor Mrs. Green rose 
 between us, making me accuse myself of 
 unkindness and ingratitude towards her ; for 
 how could I separate the one from the other ? 
 It was quite an impossibility ; for, whatever 
 punishment might be inflicted upon him, she 
 would be sure to be called upon indirectly to 
 bear the heaviest share of it, and perhaps 
 even his ill-treatment of herself mis^ht assume 
 a more aggressive form if he discovered that 
 I had been the means of bringing him into 
 trouble. 
 
 *^ It's not the pain I care about," I ob- 
 served to Mr. Maxwell, when he at length 
 returned to me again, and began to condole 
 with me upon my battered condition ; " it's 
 the shame and disgrace." 
 
 ^' So far as you are concerned there's no 
 shame and disgrace about it," quickly replied 
 the doctor ; '* everyone who hears what has 
 taken place will be sure to sympathise with 
 you, and unless I am greatly mistaken," be 
 added significantly, " that bullying school- 
 master will lose his post as soon as the vicar 
 discovers what sort of a man he really is." 
 
 ^' Will you do me a favour, Mr. Maxwell ?" 
 
Perplexity. 145 
 
 I asked, eyeinj^ him with undisguised anxiety, 
 as I suddenly pictured to myself poor Mrs. 
 Green turned out of her comfortable little 
 home, and forced to leave a spot where she 
 had spent so many happy years, and where 
 she had always hoped and intended to end 
 her days. For if Mr. Vaughan did in very 
 deed take the matter up and obhge the 
 schoolmaster to resign his post, it could not 
 for a moment be supposed that the latter 
 would consent to remain on in the neisfh- 
 bourhood of Saltsea, however anxious his wife 
 mio'ht be to do so. 
 
 " A favour '?" repeated the doctor, regard- 
 ing me with a sharp glance. ^^You must 
 tell me what it is first, as I'm not, as a rule, 
 fond of making promises beforehand." 
 
 " I've been thinking the matter over," I 
 explained, rather hesitatingly, ^^ and I should 
 be so much obliged to you if you would try 
 to prevent Mr. Vaughan from knowing any- 
 thing about it. He might be angry with 
 Mr. Green, you see, and " 
 
 ** Of course he would," promptly acqui- 
 esced the doctor. "^ He sets his face like a 
 flint against anything in the shape of corporal 
 punishment, and in this case he would be 
 
 VOL. I. 10 
 
146 Charlie. 
 
 doubly indignant, as he takes a great interest 
 in you, and has never forgotten your gallant 
 conduct in rescuing his daughter from being 
 drowned." 
 
 ^' Do you know whether he is yet back V 
 I inquired, in considerable anxiety. 
 
 He had been away for two or three weeks ; 
 but for anything I could tell to the contrary 
 he might by this time have returned, and if 
 so, he might possibly have been already in- 
 formed of the little contretemps Avhich had 
 so lately occurred ; and in this case, knowing 
 his peremptory way of dealing with people, I 
 could not be at all sure that the mischief I 
 Avas so wishful to avoid had not actuall}^ 
 been done. 
 
 To my relief, however, Mr. Maxwell 
 answered presently : 
 
 ^' No ; he's not expected home, I think, 
 until next week." 
 
 ''I'm glad of that," I replied, in all sin- 
 cerity, " as there will be less chance of its 
 getting to his ears." 
 
 " Why should you want to screen Mr. 
 Green T abruptly demanded the other, while 
 he fixed his eyes rather disconcertingly upon 
 my face. 
 
Perplexitij. 147 
 
 ^' It's for the sake of his wife," I frankly 
 explained. " I owe her more than I can 
 ever repay ; and I'm afraid if any unpleasant 
 consequences were to spring from this affair 
 he would revenge himself upon her." 
 
 ^' He cannot surely be such a brute as 
 that 1" remarked Mr. Maxwell, but in a tone 
 which showed that he believed him to be 
 quite capable of performing any atrocity. 
 
 *' I believe he has got all her money into 
 his own hands/' I went on, feeling instinc- 
 tively conscious that I could not have found 
 a safer confidant, nor one who would be more 
 likely to understand and sympathise Avith my 
 motives in wishing to spare her pain. 
 
 " That's bad !" he responded, gravely 
 shaking his head ; '^ what poor infatuated 
 creatures these women are, to be sure !" he 
 added, with a half-j)itying scorn — he was a 
 confirmed bachelor, so may have been excused 
 perhaps for speaking thus slightingly of the 
 softer sex ; ^' anyone with a grain of j^ractical 
 commonsense would have fathomed the 
 man's reasons for wishing to marry her. I 
 suppose lie deluded her into the absurd belief 
 that he cared for herself alone, and so she 
 lost her head and gave up everything." 
 
 10—2 
 
148 Charlie. 
 
 " She never guessed that he would turn 
 out so differently to what she thought him," 
 I half- apologetically reminded him. 
 
 " I dare say not/' he contemptuously re- 
 torted, '' but all the same she otifjht to have 
 suspected ; and then, instead of allowing 
 herself to have been made a fool of, she 
 might have been quite independent at this 
 very minute, and been able eventually to 
 provide for you in the way poor Mr. Joyce 
 always wished and intended." 
 
 '^ I don't care about myself/' I hastil}^ 
 assured him, '' only I should like to keep her 
 from being bullied, if I can/' 
 
 '^Very well, then/' said Mr. Maxwell, after 
 apparently cogitating the matter in his own 
 mind for some minutes ; '^ you just leave it to 
 me, and I'll contrive to frigfhten him a bit 
 without giving him an excuse for turning the 
 table on other people /' and with a grim 
 smile he moved away, and began to take a 
 few thoughtful turns up and down the room. 
 
 Presently the elderly woman whom I had 
 before seen came in and began to lay the 
 cloth for dinner. 
 
 '' How is he now, sir ?" she asked, pointing 
 kindly to my still recumbent figure. 
 
Perplexity. 149 
 
 " Oh, he's Q^etting on first rate," was the 
 cheerful answer, ^' only that awkward cut in 
 the head makes it necessary that he should 
 be kept as quiet as possible." 
 
 '' You have been very kind to me, Mr. 
 Maxwell/' I said, beginning to feel decidedly 
 nervous and uncomfortable at the thought of 
 all the trouble I had given him, " but now I 
 think I ought to go/' and I made a frantic 
 effort to get off the sofa. 
 
 " Foolish lad !" and a kind firm hand was 
 laid upon my shoulder, and I was forced back 
 upon the cushions ; " do you want to faint 
 again { 
 
 " 1 don't like the idea of forcnig myself 
 upon you/' I stammered out, rather in- 
 coherently. 
 
 '^ You did not force yourself upon me." 
 laughed the doctor ; " 1 brought you here 
 nolens volens," 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; you were quite unconscious 
 when the master came home with you," 
 chimed in the woman, whom I afterwards 
 discovered to be cook, housekeeper, and 
 general supervisor of Mr. Maxwell's modest 
 menage^ a boy in buttons being her sole 
 assistant ; ''and a pretty fright you gave me, 
 
150 Charlie. 
 
 I can assure you, as you looked far more 
 dead than alive." 
 
 " You musn't frighten him, Rachel," 
 smilingly remonstrated Mr. Maxwell, *' or 
 else he may fancy himself more seriously 
 injured than he really is. Not that he is 
 likely to do that, I think," he went on 
 musingly; '^he has got far too brave a spirit to 
 allow himself to be easily dismayed, and he 
 bears pain like a stoic." 
 
 I felt my face flush with pleasure at this 
 spontaneous compliment from the lips of one 
 who was generally considered to be more at 
 home in administering blame than praise, 
 and I glanced gratefully uj) at him as I 
 murmured softly : 
 
 ^^ I have not been much tried yet." 
 
 " Have you not ? Well, for your age, I 
 think you have had a very fair initiation," 
 was the half-jocular reply ; '' a badly broken 
 arm, you know, is not a bad test to begin 
 with ; and then, at the present moment," 
 this was said more seriously, and accompanied 
 by a look of great kindness, " unless I am 
 very much out in my calculations, your head 
 is aching frightfully, to say nothing of your 
 other uncomfortable sensations." 
 
Perplexity. 151 
 
 '* How clever you must be," I respectfully 
 ventured to observe, '* to find out all these 
 kind of thino^s without being^ told." 
 
 " Not at all/' he disclaimed, in evident 
 amusement ; " I should be a disgrace to my 
 profession if I did not understand a simple 
 affair like this." 
 
 ^^Now, sir, your dinner is ready," was 
 Mrs. Rachel's matter-of-fact observation ; 
 '^ and I hope,'' she added, sotto voce, ^' you 
 may be allow^ed to take it in peace ;" from 
 which anxious remark I concluded that she 
 was afraid lest some sudden summons from 
 the outer world should come to interrupt 
 him, before he had had time to do justice to 
 her homely cookery. 
 
 " I wonder what our invalid would like ?" 
 soliloquised Mr. Maxwell, glancing specula- 
 tively around the table. 
 
 '^ Nothing, thank you," I hurriedly re- 
 sponded ; ^' indeed, sir, I would much rather 
 not," seeing him in the act of transferring 
 something from one of the dishes to a plate 
 which was evidently intended for my use ; 
 *' I am not in the least hungry." 
 
 "Then in that case you must just eat to 
 please me," he suggested, in a voice of quiet 
 
152 Charlie. 
 
 authority. '^ I Dever allow my patients to 
 starve ;" and greatly to my own amazement, 
 I found myself, a few minutes later, meekly 
 submitting to his decision, and although 
 every mouthful I took seemed to choke me, 
 I yet contrived at last to finish the contents 
 of my plate. 
 
 '^ Good boy !" was the doctor's approving 
 remark, w^hen I had finished ; " I know it was 
 an effort, but it will do you good. And 
 now," he continued briskly, as he rose from 
 his seat and rang the bell, " you shall not be 
 bothered any more. I am going out myself 
 presently to visit some people at a distance, 
 and shall not be back until tea-time, so that 
 when Hachel has cleared away the things 
 you can lie quiet, and sleep, if you like, until 
 my return." 
 
 " I wonder if Mrs. Green will be anxious 
 about mel" I faltered, just as he was leaving 
 the room. 
 
 ^^ Don't trouble your head about that," he 
 answered kindly ; '' I will call and let her 
 know where you are." 
 
 '* Will you really ?" I exclaimed eagerly. 
 ^' Oh, I am so much obliged to you." 
 
 " I shall be able to give her a hint, too, as 
 
to what she had better say to hei^ brute of a 
 husband if he should begin to question her 
 on the subject." 
 
 And having thus set my mind at rest on 
 this important point, my kind host left me to 
 my own devices. 
 
 Subsequently, he explained to me that he 
 had found Mrs. Green in a terrible state of 
 suspense, her husband not having con- 
 descended to enter into any of the particulars 
 of the case, merely contenting himself with 
 vaguely hinting at what had occurred so far 
 as he was himself personally concerned, 
 though he hesitated not to heap the most 
 violent abuse upon my absent head, and 
 made her shudder at the thought of what 
 might happen to me if I should just then be 
 brought into direct collision with him. 
 
 A few words from Mr. Maxwell served 
 most completely to open her eyes to the true 
 state of affairs, and she anxiously agreed to 
 everything he said, and promised to be 
 guided by him as to the course which it 
 would be wisest, under the circumstances, to 
 adopt with regard to my future prospects. 
 
 After what had occurred, it would be best 
 for all parties, he said, that I should not 
 
154 Charlie, 
 
 return to my old home ; and she tearfully 
 agreed that it might perhaps be unsafe for 
 me to be again exposed to Mr. Green's 
 brutality, as my spirit being once roused, 
 and my natural pride up in arms at 
 the recollection of the indignity I had 
 suffered at his hands, I should probably find 
 it utterly impossible to keep up the role- I 
 had hitherto followed, or treat him from 
 henceforth with the slioiitest remaininsf 
 vestige of respect. 
 
 My own feelings, meanwhile, were not to 
 be envied. For some time after the doctor's 
 departure I had taken his advice, and tried 
 to obtain a little rest for my aching head ; 
 but by-and-by I grew restless and uneasy, 
 the tide of thought became too strong for 
 me, and I found the state of enforced inaction 
 into which I had been so suddenly plunged 
 most intolerable. 
 
 What to do I knew not — whitlier to turn 
 for help ; how to see my way out of the 
 extraordinary position in which I was placed; 
 where to go, even, on leaving Mr. Maxwell's 
 house (for it was not of course to be expectea 
 that I should remain under his roof an 
 instant longer than was absolutely necessary) ; 
 
Pcrplexitif. 155 
 
 all these doubts and questions, mingled with 
 gloomy forebodings as to the probable effect 
 of our late fracas upon poor Mrs. Green's 
 happiness, and melancholy retrospective 
 glances as I sadly contrasted the present 
 with the past, and longed with an intensity 
 which was fraught with the most exqui.^ite 
 pain for a return of those " other days," the 
 light of which had faded, alas, for ever. 
 
 Did Mr. Joyce see me, I wonder, as I 
 struo'orled wearily throuofh that longf after- 
 noon, thinking, thinking so often, so lovingly, 
 and tenderly and regretfully of himself I 
 have sometimes fancied that it might have 
 been so ; fancied that he was not far off, 
 although / could not discern him ; fancied 
 that he understood my difficulties better than 
 I did myself, and in some mysterious w-ay 
 was permitted to minister to my peculiar 
 wants, infuse a grain of comfort into my 
 perturbed and care-weighted heart, and 
 whisper silently, yet effectually, to my 
 troubled and half-distracted imag^ination of 
 peace which was yet to come, a time when 
 earth's strife and warfare should have ended, 
 and nothing remain but joy, unmingled and 
 never-ceasing, a period of blessedness and pro- 
 
156 Charlie. 
 
 sperity, beside which this world's fairest pro- 
 spects and most substantial joys are but fleet- 
 ing shadows, and dim and visionary phantoms. 
 
 He had talked to me so often and so 
 earnestly of the littleness of time and the 
 vastness of eternity ; had tried so lovingly 
 to impress upon my youthful mind the im- 
 portance of not allowing one's self to be 
 too strongly moved by an}^ external circum- 
 stances ; of looking upon life's trial with a calm 
 and unperturbed spirit ; bearing pain without 
 flinching, and disappointment with equanimity; 
 and although^ at the time, his wise advice had 
 often fallen upon unheeding and careless ears, 
 I now found myself recalling his w^ords wath 
 a kind of concentrated intensity which 
 showed that they had not been altogether 
 thrown away upon me, but might even yet, 
 in time, lead to my ultimate good. 
 
 When Mr. Maxwell returned, he found me 
 sitting up, looking, I have no doubt, very 
 wild and ghastlj, as the cut on my head had 
 bled a good deal before he had succeeded in 
 bandaging it to his satisfaction, and I w^as, 
 as might have been expected, very much 
 shaken, and by no means as strong as I 
 would have wished him to suppose. 
 
Perplexity. 157 
 
 He eyed me critically as he entered, shook 
 his head shghtly when the survey was ended, 
 but did not otherwise remark on my present 
 condition. 
 
 He seemed, on the contrar}^, rather inclined 
 to divert my thoughts from myself by 
 repeating to me certain scraps of village 
 news, such as might be expected to interest 
 me ; and not until the evening was far 
 advanced — and he gathered perhaps from my 
 anxious face and embarrassed manner that I 
 was growing very uneasy at the prospect of 
 spending the night I knew not where, hating 
 the idea of ever ao^ain returninof to Mr. 
 Green, and yet vaguely wondering whether 
 it might not, after all, be my duty to do so — 
 did he revert to the subject of my own 
 personal circumstances. 
 -Then he said, cheerfully : 
 
 *' I have seen Mrs. Green, Charlie, and 
 she agrees with me that you had better stay 
 where you are for the present ; to-morrow 
 she is coming to see you herself, and we can 
 then consider what steps to take with regard 
 to you." 
 
 '' Shan't I be in your way ?" I asked, some- 
 what timidly, feeling decidedly relieved, how- 
 
158 Charlie. 
 
 ever, at having the matter thus arranged for 
 me. 
 
 "In my way?" he repeated, with a httle 
 gesture of amusement ; " of course not ; I 
 shall be very glad to have you." 
 
 " Thank you," I answered gratefully. 
 ^' I won't disturb you more than I can 
 help." 
 
 " I should not mind keeping you altogether, 
 for the matter of that," he went on medita- 
 tively, " if I thought you would be content 
 to settle down eventually as a village doctor ; 
 
 but " here he looked rather searchingly 
 
 into my face, *' Mr. Joyce has spoilt you for 
 that, I fancy, as he always talked as if nothing 
 would satisfy him short of your going to 
 college and distinguishing yourself in the 
 literary w^orld — was it not so ?" 
 
 "Yes," I assented, a husky sensation 
 coming into my throat as I suddenly re- 
 membered all his generous schemes for my 
 benefit ; '' but I don't suppose I shall have a 
 chance of learning anything more now." 
 
 '' Well, we must wait and see what Mrs. 
 Green says about it ; and I think, also, Mr. 
 Vaughan ought to be consulted on the subject, 
 as I know Mr. Joyce took him into his full con- 
 
Perplexitij. 159 
 
 iidence as to his own intentions reo^arclincr you. 
 And in the meantime," this was added in an 
 altogether different tone, "you must just forget 
 all your troubles, and try to make yourself 
 as comfortable as you can, until that nasty 
 cut," pointing significantly to my bandaged 
 forehead, "has healed up, and you are able 
 to think over what has occurred, and take a 
 calmer and more dispassionate view of the 
 case than could just at present be expected 
 from you." 
 
 The followinof morninsf Mrs. Green made 
 her appearance. 
 
 She gave a little start on first getting 
 sight of me, and I could see her lip quiver 
 and her eyes fill with tears as she came 
 silently up to me and kissed me over and 
 over aofain, Avith tenfold more warmth and 
 tenderness of manner than she was in the 
 habit of manifesting towards me. 
 
 Then she sank down in a chair at my side, 
 holding my hand tightly grasped in hers, and 
 beo'an to cry. 
 
 " Hush, mother!" I soothingly whispered, 
 the old famihar name coming spontaneously 
 to my lips ; " you musn't vex yourself like 
 this." 
 
160 Charlie. 
 
 ** My poor ill-used darling!" she gasped 
 out as soon as she could recover herself some- 
 what ; " to think that I should ever live to see 
 you knocked about like this." 
 
 '' It doesn't signify, mother," I hastened 
 to assure her, in as cheerful a tone as I 
 could assume ; '^ I shall soon be all right 
 again." 
 
 "It Avould have broken his heart," she 
 moaned, " if he had ever thouoiit that the 
 boy he was so proud and fond of should be 
 treated so shamefully ! He made a perfect 
 idol of you, and now " 
 
 Here she paused and shook her head with 
 an air of gloomy desperation, while the tears 
 once more began to flov/, and she clutched 
 my hand convulsively, as if to show me that 
 she at least was no party to her husband's 
 cruelty. 
 
 Again I tried to comfort her ; but it was 
 no easy matter. For once in her life her 
 placid, easy-going nature had been roused ; 
 her w^oman's heart rose up in horror at the 
 thought of Mr. Green's brutality, and I plainly 
 perceived, from the unusual excitement of her 
 manner, that the dread with which she had for 
 some time past regarded her tyrannical hus- 
 
Perijlexlty. 1 G I 
 
 band had now given place to something very 
 like loathing. 
 
 " I shall never forgive myself, Charlie," 
 she said at length, in a self-accusing voice ; 
 ^' I have entirely ruined your prospects, 
 and " 
 
 '' Now, don't talk like that," I interposed, 
 speaking more cheerfully than I felt ; '* you 
 have nothing to reproach yourself with, so far 
 as I am concerned, as you have always acted 
 most kindly towards me. If you had been 
 my own mother you could not have done more 
 for me." 
 
 " Ah, you little know what you are talking 
 about, my dear," she groaned ; " you little 
 know the extent of my foolishness and infatu- 
 ation ! Why, at this very moment I have 
 nothing in my own power, absolutely nothing, 
 The very money which he — my poor dear first 
 husband — had distinctly put aside for yourself 
 is in Mr. Green's hands, and if I were to go 
 down on my knees to him for it, he would not 
 give up a penny of it." 
 
 Having expected nothing different, I was 
 not quite so much appalled at this announce- 
 ment as mio^ht under other circumstances 
 have been the case, and I made another 
 
 VOL. I. 11 
 
162 Charlie, 
 
 strenuous effort to get her to view the matter 
 in a less unfavourable light for herself My 
 efforts, however, in this direction, only met 
 with partial success, as she continued most 
 bitterly to bewail what she termed her own 
 bHndness and credulity in being made the 
 dupe of a scheming, designing man, who pro- 
 bably cared not a straw for herself, but only 
 for the worldly substance with which she had 
 so unsuspectingly endowed him. 
 
 '^ The very first difference we had," she 
 went on to explain, after I had in some slight 
 degree succeeded in comforting her, *' was 
 while we were in London. I had all along 
 taken it for granted that that money was at 
 any rate safe ; otherwise I should have used 
 measures for securing it before my marriage. 
 But when I ventured to oppose him, I found 
 him so determined and — and cruel," here the 
 colour sprang hotly into her pale cheeks, while 
 her lips trembled visibly, '* that it was worse 
 than useless for me to attempt to stand out 
 against his wishes." 
 
 " Of course it was," T gently assented, 
 " dear mother ! You could not heljD your- 
 self;" and I stooped forward and kissed the 
 poor flushed face, feeling at that moment 
 
Perplexity, 163 
 
 that I would give the world if I possessed 
 it, could I only see her reinstated in her 
 former free and unfettered life. 
 ^ " I ouofht never to have married him," she 
 w ent on, in a gloomy, self- reproachful voice ; 
 '* you begged me not to do so, if you remem- 
 ber, and I have often wished that I had fol- 
 lowed your advice, especially w4ien I saw how 
 unkindly he invariably treated you." 
 
 " We won't think of that now," 1 hastily 
 interposed ; '^ I dare say one day it will turn 
 out all right. Dear father used to tell us 
 that nothing comes by chance," I proceeded, 
 as much for my own consolation as hers. I 
 was about to say a few more words on the 
 same subject, when an uneasy idea struck me, 
 and I asked anxiously : " Won't Mr. Green 
 be angry if he finds out that you have been to 
 see me V 
 
 " What does it signify if he is V she re- 
 sponded, looking, however, rather frightened ; 
 " he cannot well make matters worse than 
 they are at present." 
 
 '' Oh yes, he might," I suggested ; '' if he 
 thought you took my part, lie woul(J resent 
 it dreadfully." 
 
 " He has no right to drive you away from 
 
 11—2 
 
164 Charlie. 
 
 me like this !" she exclaimed. " He promised 
 me faithfully, before I married him, that he 
 
 would be a father to you, and " 
 
 The rest of her sentence remained un- 
 finished ; for at that instant the door of the 
 room where we were sittinor was unceremoni- 
 ously opened, and Mr. Maxwell appeared on 
 the scene. 
 
A Generous Offer Made and Accepted. 16.) 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A GENEROUS OFFER MADE AND ACCEPTED. 
 
 " No backward path, ah, no returning !" 
 
 " Alas ! our memories may retrace each circumstance o . 
 time and place, 
 Season and scene come back again." 
 
 *' I'm glad you have managed to pay the 
 poor lad a visit," observed my kind-hearted 
 host, as he came up to Mrs. Green and shook 
 hands with her. " He was a trifle homesick 
 last night, I think, so it will do him good to 
 have a little chat with you." 
 
 " I shall never be able to thank you suffi- 
 ciently for all your kindness," she answered, 
 in a voice ot much emotion. 
 
 " Oh, it's no question of kindness," he 
 
1G6 Charlie. 
 
 pmilingly responded, '' but rather of expedi- 
 enr^y." 
 
 *' I don't quite know what you mean by 
 that," returned Mrs. Green, with a puzzled 
 expression. 
 
 Mr. Maxwell shru^'s^ed his shoulders as he 
 asked, with apparent irrelevance : 
 
 " Have you made up your mind as to the 
 course which I yesterday recommended ?" 
 
 *' Yes," she replied, in a stifled voice ; " I 
 am quite sure that 3^our plan is the best 
 which could, under the circumstances, be 
 adopted ; but I can't at the same time help 
 feeling terribly distressed at the idea of losing 
 him." 
 
 '' No doubt," acquiesced the other; ^' but if 
 it happens to be for his good you will, I am 
 sure, submit to the separation." 
 
 ^^ Well, I hope so ; but I shall be dread- 
 fully dull without him," was the dejected 
 answer. 
 
 '' So far as you are personally concerned," 
 continued Mr. Maxwell, *' I should not be at 
 all surprised if this unfortunate affair were to 
 turn out an advantag^e rather than the re- 
 verse ; as your husband must naturally feel 
 that he has gone too far, and will probably be 
 
A Generous Offer Made and Accepted. 167 
 
 in a great fright, lest he should himself be 
 called to account for it. He must know per- 
 fectly well what the consequences would be 
 were we to bring the matter before the proper 
 authorities." 
 
 ^* Yes, he seemed very uneasy all yesterday 
 afternoon," admitted Mrs. Green, ^* and asked 
 me several times whether any message had 
 been received from you." 
 
 *^ I hope you told him what I said V 
 
 *' Indeed I did,'* she earnestly replied ; 
 " and he appeared for the moment really 
 sorry — though whether that will last remains 
 to be seen." 
 
 '' Well, if you take my advice, you will go 
 now," remarked Mr. Maxwell, after a mo- 
 ment's thought ; '^ and unless you are abso- 
 lutely driven to it, I would not let him know 
 that you hav^e been here." 
 
 '* Very well," she meekly acquiesced, as she 
 rose from her seat aiid prepared to take leave 
 of me ; adding, the next moment, " May I 
 come and see him again ?" 
 
 ^' Oh, certainly, you will be most welcome," 
 the doctor hastened to assure her. 
 
 " Then, good-bye, Charlie, my dear !" she 
 exclaimed, rather more cheer full v than she 
 
1G8 Charlie, 
 
 had hitherto spoken. " I shall hope to have 
 a glimpse of you to-morrow." 
 
 And after a few more words of affectionate 
 meaning we parted. 
 
 When the morrow came, however, no Mrs. 
 Green made her appearance ; but towards 
 the evening I received a hurriedly written 
 letter from her, explaining that she had been 
 unavoidably prevented from keeping her ap- 
 pointment, but that she hoped I would not 
 think it unkind of her, as it was a great dis- 
 appointment to herself, and nothing but 
 sheer necessity would have kept her away 
 from me. From which I gathered that Mr. 
 Green had suspected her intention, and reso- 
 lutely set himself to work to frustrate it, and 
 prevent her from seeing more of me than he 
 could possibly help. 
 
 *^ By a fortunate chance," so ran the post- 
 script of Mrs. Green's letter, '' I am able to 
 send you the exact sum of money which was 
 found in your poor mother's purse after her 
 death : and I also enclose her diamond rino-, 
 and if I can by any possibility manage it, I 
 will contrive to hand over a small sum every 
 quarter for you through our kind friend jNIr. 
 Maxwell ; so that you may not be entirely 
 
A Generous Off e?^ Made and Accepted. 109 
 
 thrown upon the hberality of others for that 
 assistance which you ought, properly speak- 
 ing, to receive from myself." 
 
 A few tenderly affectionate words followed, 
 and then she subscribed herself : 
 
 *^ Your ever loving and sincerely attached 
 mother, 
 
 "Mary Green." 
 
 A thrill of mingled pleasure and sadness 
 ran through my frame as I read and re-read 
 her kind and touching words, and I handled 
 the sparkhng gem, which had been taken 
 from the unresisting fingers of my ill-starred 
 parent, with a solemn, awe-stricken feeling, 
 mentally resolving that no future pecuniary 
 difficulties should ever tempt me to part with 
 so valuable a relic. 
 
 I was earnestly regarding it, and specu- 
 lating, as I had done a thousand times before, 
 as to my own possible identity, when Mr. 
 Maxwell disturbed my meditations by saying, 
 in his short, abrupt way : 
 
 " I have just seen Mr. Yaughan, Charlie." 
 
 '' Have you V I asked, coming out of my 
 reverie with a little start. 
 
 " Yes ; he returned home last night, it 
 
170 Charlie. 
 
 seems, and having already heard a whisper 
 of the schoohiiaster's goings on, he came to 
 question me on the subject." 
 
 ^' I ho^^e you did not say anything against 
 him/' I asked, rather uneasily. 
 
 *'Well, T could not of course deny that 
 there was some truth in the story, but re- 
 membering your anxiety about Mrs. Green, 
 I tried to make light of the matter, merely 
 mentioning in general terms that since her 
 second marriage your life had not been a 
 happy one, and that it seemed, therefore, de- 
 sirable to make some other arran elements 
 with regard to your future residence. He 
 quite agreed with me in thinking that it 
 might be better for you to take a fresh 
 start, and he proposes that you should go at 
 once to Middlebury and attend the college 
 there. He can easily get you in on very 
 favourable terms, as he is one of the gover- 
 nors or patrons, it seems, and has the power 
 of nominating anyone he likes." 
 
 "But the expense!" I gasped out, fairly 
 electrified at finding my way thus suddenly 
 mapped out for me. 
 
 " Mr. Yaughan agrees to defray all ex- 
 penses for the next three or four years. At 
 
A Generous Offei- Made and Accepted. 171 
 
 the end of that time he says you will be sure 
 to get a scholarship, and perhaps otiier things 
 besides, which will enable you to go to Ox- 
 ford if you wish, or Mr. Vaughan's influence 
 could procure you a good appointment else- 
 where." 
 
 ^* It is very kind and generous of him," I 
 hesitated, " but I think I would rather try 
 to do something for myself at once ; I do not 
 like the idea of throwing myself upon other 
 people." 
 
 '' Well, I don't like you the less for wish- 
 ing to be independent," observed the doctor, 
 *' but in this case the circumstances are cer- 
 tainly peculiar ; Mr. Vaughan still considers 
 himself under a very considerable weight of 
 obligation to you for saving his daughter's 
 life, and it would be a positive satisfaction to 
 him, I believe, to be able to do somethinof in 
 a practical way for you. Then again, to take 
 another view of the case," he w^ent on, hastily 
 interrupting me just as I Avas about to speak, 
 *' 3'ou have always the option of repaying him 
 anything he may spend on your account." 
 
 '^ If I could only be sure of being able to 
 do that," I demurred, '' I should not mind 
 it so much." 
 
172 Charlie. 
 
 '^ What is to prevent your doing it T de- 
 manded Mr. Maxwell ; " you will be your 
 own master after college hours, you know, 
 and can act as private tutor to some of the 
 stupid boys who need cramming." 
 
 '^ Yes, I might do that," I said, brighten- 
 ing up at the idea, ^^ and there is this twenty 
 pounds to begin with," handing him, as I 
 spoke, the money which I had just received 
 from Mrs. Green. 
 
 He smiled rather curiously as he thrust 
 the notes back upon me again, saying care- 
 lessly : 
 
 "You must arrange all this with Mr. 
 Vaughan when you see him. He wanted 
 me to send you to the vicarage to-day, but 
 I made some excuse, as I thought you would 
 be the better of having a little longer rest 
 first." 
 
 Mr. Vaughan was, however, about the last 
 man in the world to be baulked of his pur- 
 pose ; and having once taken the matter into 
 his own hands, he had no intention whatever 
 of allowing the doctor, or anyone else, to 
 regulate his movements. 
 
 Accordingly, greatly to my astonishment, 
 and somewhat also to my annoyance, I found 
 
A Generous Offer Made and Accepted, 173 
 
 myself suddenly confronted by him that very 
 same afternoon. 
 
 I was sitting^ in Mr. Maxwell's dining^- 
 room, poring over a book which he had lent 
 me before setting out to visit his patients, 
 when I heard a sonorous voice pronounce 
 my name. 
 
 '* Oh, I beg your pardon," I cried, rising 
 hastily to my feet as I all at once recognised 
 my visitor ; " I did not know you were 
 here." 
 
 *' No ; you were too much occupied with 
 your book," Avas the good-natured reply, 
 while the pompous-looking clergyman fixed 
 his keen eyes upon me with so scrutinising 
 an expression that I felt myself colouring up 
 to the very roots of my hair. 
 
 '' So you have been in the wars, I 
 hear I'' 
 
 This was his next sentence, uttered in a 
 tone scarcely calculated to remove my em- 
 barrassment. 
 
 '^You had better tell me all about it, I 
 think," he continued, sitting deliberately 
 down, with an air which seemed to imply any 
 amount of power. 
 
 *' There is very little to tell, sir," I an- 
 
174 Charlie. 
 
 swered, making a prodigious effort to conceal 
 my agitation. 
 
 " What is the meaning of that stickino^- 
 plaster ?" commenced my interlocutor, point- 
 ing significantly to my head. 
 
 " It's only a slight cut," I replied indif- 
 ferently. 
 
 *^ How did you get it 1" 
 
 '^ I — I scarcely know," I stammered out, 
 in such evident confusion that Mr. Vaugljan 
 probably gave me credit for telling an un- 
 truth, which was, in point of fact, not the 
 case ; for I had not the most remote recollec- 
 tion of the precise way in which I had met 
 with that particular wound. 
 
 " You want to keep your own counsel, I 
 see," drily remarked my visitor. 
 
 "Not exactly, sir," I respectfully made 
 answer ; " only the truth is, Mr. Green and 
 I quarrelled ; and it's not a pleasant thing to 
 talk about." 
 
 '^ No ; especially if you were the person 
 most in fault," he responded, once more 
 gazing at me with a shrewd, penetrating ex- 
 pression ; '' lads of your age are often head- 
 strong and passionate." 
 
 '^ Yes, sir," I admitted, rather relieved 
 
A Generous Offer Made and Accepted. 175 
 
 than otherwise to find that he seemed in- 
 chned to look upon me as the principal 
 culprit. 
 
 ''And I suppose you irritated Mr. Green 
 by setting up your opinions in opposition to 
 his own ?" pursued the gentleman, in cool, 
 incisive tones. 
 
 " Yes ; that is just what I did," I truth- 
 fully ackno^^ledged. 
 
 '' And then his temper got the better of 
 him, and he determined to make an example 
 of you. Was that it V 
 
 "" Yes," I again confessed, this time in a 
 very low, unsteady voice ; for although I 
 still wished to spare Mr. Green, for the sake 
 of his much-enduring wife, I could not be 
 expected to think of his brutal conduct to- 
 wards myself with anything but bitterness 
 and indignation. 
 
 " Well, what is done cannot be undone," 
 oracularly proceeded Mr. Vaughan, after a 
 long pause, during which he had once more 
 been engaged in the diligent study of my 
 countenance ; ^' so there is no great use in 
 sifting the matter further. We are all apt 
 to forget ourselves at times, you know" — 
 whether this remark was intended to apply 
 
176 Charlie, 
 
 to myself or Mr. Green I could not tell — 
 ^' and I think, on the whole, it may perhaps 
 be an advantage to you to be thrown some- 
 what more upon your own resources than has 
 hitherto been the case, as it will teach you 
 self-reliance." 
 
 Then, with a swift change of voice and 
 manner, he went on abruptly : 
 
 " Has Mr. Maxwell told you of my pro- 
 posal ?" 
 
 " Indeed he has, sir," I answered earnestly ; 
 '' and I am greatly obliged to you for your 
 kind and genen-us oifer, only " 
 
 *' Only what V he demanded rather sharply, 
 as I paused in irresolution. 
 
 *' I cannot explain it exactly," I replied 
 rather doubtfully; ''but it seems as if 1 
 ouo^-ht to be content with the education I 
 have already received, and try at once to get 
 some kind of a situation " 
 
 " Nonsense ! you are far too young for 
 that sort of thing," hastily interrupted Mr. 
 Vaughan. '^ Besides, a lad with your abiii- 
 ties ought to have, at any rate, the chance 
 of getting on in the world ; and if you do as 
 I suggest you will be as nearly as possible 
 carrying out the wishes of Mr. Joyce, as he 
 
A Generous Offer Hade and Accepted. 177 
 
 fancied (and not altogether without reason, 
 I should say) that you were of gentle birth, 
 and it was the one desire of his heart to 
 bring you up in strict accordance with that 
 idea. He would never have given his con- 
 sent, therefore, to your choosing anything 
 but a respectable profession ; and I am only 
 helping you to follow the course which he 
 would himself have recommended, had he 
 been spared to finish the good work which 
 he so kindly and generously undertook (in 
 the face of many difficulties and discourage- 
 ments) immediately after your poor mother's 
 death." 
 
 I understood perfectly well what he meant 
 by thus alluding to the difficulties of Mr: 
 Joyce's position ; as, although the latter had 
 always made a point of speaking lightly, 
 almost disparagingly, of himself and his own 
 doino's, he had not disQfuised from me the 
 fact that Mr. Vaughan had from the very 
 first strongly disapproved of his charging 
 himself with the trouble and responsibility of 
 bringing me up, and done his very utmost to 
 shake his resolution, and induce him to eon- 
 sign me to the questionable guardianship ot 
 certain authorities connected with some par- 
 
 VOL. I. 1 2 
 
178 Charlie. 
 
 ticular charitable institution in which the 
 vicar Avas himself interested, and which he 
 esj)ecially recommended as being the place 
 of all others most suitable for the reception 
 of a nameless waif like myself, whose very 
 parentage was unknown, and of whose ante- 
 cedents no glimmer of information could be 
 obtained, in spite of all the inquiries which 
 w^ere set on foot to clear up, if possible, the 
 mystery, and ascertain with more certainty 
 than vague surmise to what social status I 
 belonged, and whether there was anyone 
 among my as yet undiscovered kin who 
 would be likely to come forw^ard, acknow- 
 ledge the relationship, and relieve my gene- 
 rous friend and protector from all future 
 trouble and responsibility wdth regard to me. 
 
 Now that he — my kind, tender-hearted, 
 and unselfish benefactor ■ — w^as gone, Mr. 
 Vaughan seemed quite ready to overlook the 
 fact of his not having, during his lifetime, 
 seen exactly eye to eye w^ith himself on this 
 as well as on a few other minor points ; and 
 whenever he made any allusion to him it 
 w^as always in terms of the greatest respect. 
 
 " I shall leave you now to think over what 
 I have said." 
 
A Generous Offer Made and Accepted. 179 
 
 This was the clergyman's final summing 
 up of the case, as he slowly rose from his 
 seat about ten minutes later, and conde- 
 scendingly put out his hand in token of 
 leave-takinof. 
 
 " To-morrow Mr. Maxwell has promised 
 to bring you to the vicarage, so that you 
 can then tell me how you like your new 
 prospects, and we will arrange as to the date 
 of vour entering^ the Middlebury Collegfe, 
 and the rest of the minutiae connected with 
 the whole affair." 
 
 Having thus lucidly told me what to ex- 
 pect, he hurried away, without giving me 
 time to make any suitable response, and I 
 was once more left alone to turn over the 
 matter in my mind, and wonder whether I 
 should be justified in availing myself of his 
 generous offer. 
 
 Inclination said yes / but then, as Mr. 
 Joyce had often reminded me, inclination 
 and duty are not, as a rule, synonymous 
 terms ; but, on the contrary, the thing most 
 necessary to be done is not un frequently that 
 against which our own personal feelings most 
 consciously rebel ; so that I could not be 
 quite sure whether this intense love of study, 
 
 12—2 
 
180 Charlie. 
 
 which had taken possession of me at so very 
 early an age ; that craving after a higher 
 intellectual altitude than that which the 
 generality of those with whom I chanced to 
 come in contact seemed to occupy, might not, 
 after all, be merely a morbid kind of self- 
 indulofence, which ouolit to be checked in- 
 stead of encouraged. 
 
 Still, there was no denying the fact that I 
 was young — too young to be entrusted with 
 any responsible kind of employment ; so that 
 if I did persist just then in declining the 
 vicar's proffered aid, and trust to my own 
 resources for a livelihood, T must perforce 
 content myself with a very subordinate posi- 
 tion to that which I might confidently expect, 
 under other circumstances, to obtain. 
 
 Later on in the day I was induced to ex- 
 plain my various conflicting doubts and diffi- 
 culties to Mr. Maxwell, who listened to all 
 I had to say with the greatest patience and 
 every appearance of interest, and gave me 
 the benefit of his own advice — advice which 
 I finally resolved on following, as he was, I 
 knew, a man of shrewd practical common 
 sense, and one, moreover, for whom Mr. 
 Joyce had always entertained a feeling of 
 
A Generous Offer Made and Accepted. 181 
 
 undoubted respect, and on whose judgment 
 he would, I fancied, have wished me to rely. 
 
 Accordingly, when I found myself at the 
 vicarage the following afternoon, and was 
 kindly questioned by Mr, Vaughan as to 
 Avhether I had made up my mind to put 
 myself in his hands, and carry out the role 
 which he had so hastily sketched out for me, 
 1 thankfidly responded in the affirmative ; 
 whereat he expressed himself as being greatly 
 pleased, and lost no time in communicating 
 with the head master of the Middlebury 
 College, and getting me enrolled as a pupil, 
 and all the necessary preliminaries settled 
 with a view to my recommencing my inter- 
 rujoted studies. 
 
 When everything was definitely arranged, 
 he accompanied me himself to the quaint old 
 cathedral town, in which I was for some time 
 at least to reside, and having introduced me 
 to the authorities, and taken measures for 
 ascertaining that my education would be 
 properly proceeded with, he bade me a kindly 
 adieu, and went away, promising to come 
 again before long, in order to see how I was 
 getting on in my new sphere. 
 
182 Charlie. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 GUIDE, PHILOSOPHER, AND FRIEND. 
 
 " In the very May-morn of his youth, 
 Kipe for exploits and mighty enterprises." 
 
 " In the lexicon of youth which fate reserves, 
 For a bright manhood, there is no such word 
 As— fail." 
 
 "■ Mix a short folly, that unbends the mind." 
 
 I NEED not enter into a lengthened description 
 of the manner in which I spent the next 
 four years. 
 
 My readers will readily believe me when 
 I say that I worked hard — very hard ! for 
 not only did my own natural love of study 
 urge me on, but also the wish to act in such 
 a wa}'" as would the most effectually testify 
 to the gratitude I really felt towards the 
 kind friends who had come so generously 
 
Guide, Philosopher J and Friend. 18o 
 
 forward just when I stood in need of a 
 helping hand, and smoothed my path for me, 
 by putting me in the way of obtaining the 
 thing of all others which I the most ardently 
 desired — an opportunity of cultivating my 
 talents, and devoting my whole time and 
 attention to those intellectual pursuits in 
 which my soul delighted. 
 
 When I first went to Middlebury, Mr. 
 Vaughan had made arrangements for me to 
 reside with one of the masters of the college 
 - — a Mr. Whitworth, who happened to be a 
 personal acquaintance of his own, and was 
 generally allowed to be a man of very 
 considerable learning, and one, moreover, who 
 might have asked almost any terms from 
 the parents of those whom he received under 
 his roof, so thoroughly was his worth appre- 
 ciated. 
 
 This was an immense advantage to me, 
 and gave me a certain standing at once alike 
 with tutors and pupils ; as it was a well- 
 known fact, that Mr. Whitworth never 
 charged himself with the supervision of any 
 youth of whose ultimate educational success 
 he was at all doubtful. 
 
 Knowing his exclusiveness, I was totally 
 
184 Charlie. 
 
 amazed to find myself consigned to his 
 guardianship, and I could not help expressing 
 my surprise to Mr. Vaughan, when he pro- 
 ceeded to inform me of the plans he had 
 entered into on my behalf 
 
 He smiled complacently at my evident 
 astonishment, and then condescendingly 
 explained that it was partly out of respect 
 for himself that Mr. Whitworth had con- 
 sented to receive me ; partly because of the 
 very decided interest he had felt in my early 
 history, and last, but not least, continued the 
 dignified clergyman, he was no doubt greatly 
 influenced by the account he had heard of 
 my studious habits, and the extraordinary 
 proficiency I had already made under poor 
 Mr. Joyce's tuition. 
 
 This version of the case, althouo-h satis- 
 factory in a certain sense, did not, however, 
 serve to clear up one particular point on 
 which my own mind was just then strongly 
 exercised — I refer to the question of ex- 
 pense ! 
 
 Naturally I hated the idea of allowing 
 Mr. Vaughan to pay more than was ab- 
 solutely necessary on my behalf : naturally 
 also, I gathered from the little I had seen 
 
Guide, Philosopher, and Friend. 185 
 
 and heard on the subject, that Mr. Whit- 
 worth's charges were far higher than anj- 
 thinof I had ever dreamt of incurring" : and I 
 could not help feeling anxious and uneasy at 
 the thought of being burdened at the very 
 outset of my career with so heavy a weight 
 of monetary obhgation, which I might here- 
 after find it not easy to repay. 
 
 I could scarcely express these doubts to 
 Mr. Vaughan without appearing ungrateful, 
 especially as he seemed himself inclined to 
 look upon me in the hght of a most highly- 
 favoured and much-to-be-envied individual, 
 for getting the chance even of making my 
 dehut under such propitious circumstances. 
 
 Ere long, however, a suspicion of the truth 
 seemed to dawn across the vicar's mind, and 
 he hastened to relieve me of my solicitude, 
 by informing me, quite confidentially of 
 course, that in consideration of ni}^ strange 
 history, and out of regard for the late Mr. 
 Jovce, whom he had longf known and 
 esteemed, Mr. Whitworth had spontaneously 
 offered to receive me for less than half his 
 usual terms, and had even promised to reduce 
 them still further in the event of my being 
 able and willing to undertake the charge of a. 
 
186 Charlie. 
 
 much younger pupil than myself, who had 
 lately been consigned to his care, and Avould 
 probably require a good deal of assistance in 
 the preparation of his studies. 
 
 Under these exceptionally advantageous 
 circumstances I had no excuse, therefore, for 
 being anything but pleased and satisfied, and 
 I inwardly resolved that no effort on my 
 part should be wanting to show how 
 thoroughly I appreciated the kindness which 
 had been so liberally bestowed upon me, and 
 how earnestly I longed for an opportunity 
 of testifying that appreciation in a practical 
 a.nd decided manner. 
 
 For the first few weeks after my domesti- 
 cation under his roof, I was conscious at 
 -every turn of Mr. Whitworth's keen scrutiny. 
 He said little ; being as a rule very quiet 
 and reticent in his manner ; but whatever he 
 did say was to the purpose, and showed that 
 nothing that went on was hidden from him ; 
 every trait and idiosyncrasy of your char- 
 acter was known to him, and by some 
 strange unerring instinct he was aware of 
 the precise motive which actuated you in 
 your most trifling actions, and whether he 
 awarded blame or praise, it was always in 
 
Guidej Philosopher y and Friend. 187 
 
 the right place, and neither more nor less 
 than you deserved. 
 
 He was very slow in expressing an 
 opinion as to any one's merits or demerits ; 
 and never appeared to come to a decision 
 until he had carefully examined into the 
 minutest particular, weighed the pros, and 
 the cons, with the utmost nicety, and 
 thoroughly settled it in his own mind as to 
 whether the person in question was or was 
 not worthy of his confidence and esteem ; 
 but when once he had succeeded in solving 
 this knotty point, and arrived at a satisfactory 
 conclusion on the matter, he never suffered 
 the adverse criticisms of others to affect his 
 own conduct, or swerved even a hair's 
 breadth in his future kindness and friendly 
 regard. 
 
 When I first took up my abode under his 
 roof, his family consisted of himself, an 
 elderly widowed sister of his own, and three 
 well-advanced boarders, whose course of 
 study, so far as the Middlebury College was 
 concerned, was fast drawing to a close, in 
 addition to the lad whom he had mentioned 
 to Mr. Vaughan as being likely to require 
 assistance in the preparation of his lessons. 
 
188 Charlie. 
 
 To this boy — Harold Fortescue by name 
 — I soon became sincerely attached. He 
 possessed first-rate abilities, if he only chose 
 to exercise them ; and was one of the 
 kindest, warmest-hearted, generous-handed 
 fellows I ever met with ; but he was 
 sadly deficient in application ; never gave 
 himself more trouble than he could help, 
 and hated beyond anything the idea of 
 regular steady work. 
 
 By fits and starts he could be industrious 
 enough ; the great diflficulty w^as to keep 
 him up to the mark, and impress upon him 
 the importance of perseverance if he ever 
 wished to attain proficiency in his studies. 
 
 As a very young child he had been 
 extremely delicate, and Avas allowed in con- 
 sequence to have his own way in every- 
 thing, and never forced to adopt a line of 
 conduct which did not commend itself to 
 his youthful inclination. 
 
 Now, however, matters were changed ; 
 his health had become completely established, 
 and it was deemed advisable by his friends 
 that his hitherto somewhat neo4ected educa- 
 tion should be proceeded with, and the 
 installation of a private tutor in his own 
 
Guidv, Philosopher, and Friend. 189 
 
 home having proved a faihii'e, arrangements 
 were made for him to attend the Middlebuiy 
 College, under the immediate supervisal of 
 Mr. Whitworth, who, being nearly related to 
 the Fortescue family, and possessing also 
 considerable influence over Harold himself, 
 was looked upon as the fittest person to 
 undertake the onerous charge of endeavour- 
 ing to awaken his latent faculties, and induce 
 him to make use of the talents with which 
 he had been so liberally endowed. 
 
 Not until Mr. Whitworth had thoroughly 
 examined into the extent of my mental and 
 moral qualifications ; critically regarded my 
 general conduct, both in his own house, and 
 at the college ; and made himself perfectly 
 conversant with every trait and pecuharity of 
 my character, did he say one word to me of 
 the project he had formed with regard to his 
 young relative's education ; and, feeling, as I 
 could not help doing, that this reticence arose 
 from the fact of his beini>: still eno^as^ed in 
 the mental process of determining whether I 
 was worthy of his confidence — or at any 
 rate competent to fulfil the duties of which 
 Mr. Yaughan had spoken — delicacy of course 
 forbade my alluding ever so remotely to the 
 
190 Charlie. 
 
 subject, unless he first led the way to 
 it. 
 
 One Saturday evening, however, after our 
 late dinner was over, and my fellow-students 
 and myself were busily occupied in putting 
 away our books and papers for the week, I 
 was suddenly summoned to an audience with 
 the '^ Master/' in his private study. 
 
 " Sit down, Charlie/' he said, kindly, as I 
 entered, and his serious dark eyes looked at 
 me with a softer gleam than usual ', " 1 want 
 to talk to you." 
 
 Mechanically I subsided into the indicated 
 seat, and waited respectfully to hear what 
 would follow. 
 
 " I am always very slow in arriving at a 
 decision where the interests of other people 
 are at stake," he proceeded, after a 
 moment's pause, '' and although I heard an 
 excellent report of you from Mr. Vaughan, 
 and other quarters, I did not allow that fact 
 to prevent me from exercising my own 
 judgment in the matter, and finding out for 
 myself whether your character and attain- 
 ments were such as I could altoQfether 
 approve of." 
 
 This preamble was not exactly calculated 
 
Giiidej Philosopher, and Friend. 191 
 
 to produce a self-satisfied or complacent 
 impression upon my mind. Still T derived 
 a certain amount of comfort from the 
 reflection that whether my conduct had or 
 had not come up to Mr. Whitworth's 
 standard, I had at all events done my best ; 
 and had certainly not been guilty of any 
 wilful dereliction of duty since becoming a 
 member of his household. If, therefore, he 
 had anything to complain of, it would not be 
 intentioned misconduct on my part, and 
 unwitting offences would I knew be leniently 
 dealt with by so strictly just and upright a 
 man as the one I had to deal with. 
 
 *' Now, however, I have no hesitation in 
 expressing my entire satisfaction with you," 
 continued Mr. Whit worth, to my intense 
 relief; " I have watched you narrowly, and 
 the highest praise I can perhaps give you, is 
 to say that you reflect credit upon Mr. 
 Joyce's training ; and must, I am sure, have 
 been a pupil after his own heart." 
 
 "Oh, thank you, sir!" I eagerly exclaimed, 
 tears springing to my eyes at this most 
 welcome tribute of commendation, which, 
 coming from his lips, meant more, far more 
 than if it had been awarded me by anyone 
 
192 Charlie. 
 
 else. '' He took so much trouble with me," 
 I went on rather stammeringly, by way of 
 accounting for my sudden excited outburst, 
 " that unless I had been very stupid, indeed, 
 I must have contrived to make some kind of 
 progress." 
 
 ''It is quite easy to see you appreciated 
 his efforts in that direction," was the gracious 
 rejoinder^ ''but you are perfectly right not to 
 take too much praise to yourself, as you 
 could never have succeeded without his 
 valuable assistance in getting so well placed 
 as you have done in the College." 
 
 " No, indeed," I answered heartily ; " I 
 cannot be too thankful ;" and then I stopped, 
 and shook my head sadly, as the memory of 
 the happy past came flashing back upon my 
 recollection, mingled with the sad conscious- 
 ness that he whom I had so loved and 
 revered, was in very deed gone beyond the 
 possibility of a recall ; and that never 
 again, so long as life lasted, should I look 
 upon his earnest face, or listen to his gentle 
 tones. 
 
 " Mr. Yaughan tells me that you are of 
 an intensely proud and independent spirit," 
 observed Mr. Whit worth, speaking again 
 
Guide, Pliilosoi^her J and Friend. 193 
 
 after the lapse of a few seconds, ^^ and that 
 you would fain make your way in the world 
 without receiving aid from anyone — is this 
 the case T and the keen dark eyes were bent 
 questioningly upon my face. 
 
 '' Well, sir/' I frankly admitted, feeling 
 myself colouring under his scrutiny, ''if it 
 could by any possibility be managed, I would 
 far rather depend upon my own exertions 
 than the kindness of my friends ; I don't 
 quite know whether this sort of feeling can 
 be called pride." 
 
 " There's no harm in it at any rate,'' he 
 returned, smiling a little ; " in proof of 
 which, I am going to put you in the way of 
 making a fair start towards doing something 
 for yourself" 
 
 ^'You are very kind," I murmured, 
 scarcely knowing w^hat else to say. 
 
 "There is just a chance, however, that it 
 may not answer in the long run," he pro- 
 ceeded deliberately to explain, " but you can 
 at all events try it ; and if it should be too 
 great a strain upon you, you will always 
 have the option of being able to give it 
 
 *^ I am ready to do anything," I began 
 VOL. I. 13 
 
194 Charlie. 
 
 somewhat eagerly, when Mr. Whitworth 
 checked me by interposing significantly : 
 
 '^ I know you are, so far as good intentions 
 go ; but your strength may not always be 
 commensurate with your wishes. However," 
 he added more cheerfully, '^ I think, in the 
 present case, you will probably find yourself 
 equal to the undertaking ; and if so, I for 
 one shall be very glad." 
 
 And he forthwith proceeded to explain to 
 me at some length his views regarding his 
 young relative. 
 
 It would be no light charge, he reminded 
 me, as I should have to devote every 
 moment of leisure time to my new duties, 
 and often perhaps meet with difficulties and 
 discouragements on account of Harold 
 Fortescue's well-known carelessness and 
 disinclination for self-exertion ; but if I did 
 succeed, he w^ent on to inform me, in getting 
 him to acquit himself in a fairly creditable 
 manner, the result, so far as I was personally 
 concerned, would be, that my services in this 
 respect would be considered a full equivalent 
 for the advantages I gained by residing 
 under his own roof 
 
 This arranofement would of course relieve 
 
Guide ^ Philosopher J and Friend. 195 
 
 Mr. Vaughan from any further expenses 
 connected with my board, and be, in con- 
 sequence, a very great and inexpressible 
 satisfaction to my own mind — albeit I could 
 not (inexperienced though I was in such 
 matters), lose sight of the important fact 
 that it would only be a one-sided bargain 
 after all ; my own share in the transaction 
 being very insignificant when compared to 
 that which Mr. Whit worth proposed doing. 
 
 When I A^entured to give utterance to 
 these very natural sentiments, however, the 
 latter contrived in some way or other to 
 silence me ; I forget now what particular 
 arguments he brought forward to satisfy my 
 scruples, but, whatever they may have been, 
 they proved at the time unanswerable, and I 
 retired at length from the interview vaguely 
 conscious of a strange new feeling stirring at 
 my heart ; a sort of tender reverential 
 admiration and regard for the man who had 
 acted thus kindly and generously towards a 
 poor struggling candidate for independence, 
 such as myself 
 
 As soon as the compact we . had entered 
 into became known — that part of it, at least, 
 which related to Harold Fortescue and 
 
 13—2 
 
196 Charlie. 
 
 myself — I had to undergo a vast amount of 
 '^ chaffing " from the other boarders, varied 
 by an occasional solemn assurance on the part 
 of first one and then another that they did 
 not envy me my new position ; that I 
 should, in short, soon find myself occupying 
 (instead of the sinecure which no doubt I 
 fondly expected) a weighty and responsible 
 post, the arduous duties and obligations of 
 which would, they very much feared, turn 
 me prematurely grey, change my naturally 
 lively and facetious manner (this was a hit 
 at my somewhat grave and reserved deport- 
 ment) into a preternatural depression of 
 spirits, and entirely metamorphose my 
 .whole being, making me, to all intents and 
 purposes, an octogenarian before I had, 
 properly speaking, fully arrived at man's 
 estate. 
 
 As for Fortescue, he went into fits of 
 irrepressible laughter at the idea of my 
 having been selected to — what he called — 
 act as guide, philosopher, and friend to him- 
 self. He could not, I think, have manifested 
 more surprise and amusement if one of the 
 street Arabs had been brought in to assist 
 in the preparation of his lessons. 
 
Guide J Philosopher, and Friend, 1 1)7 
 
 '' Yes, I certainly loas told that I shovild 
 be provided, ere long, with a private tutor," 
 he mirthfully acknowledged, when I essayed 
 to remind him that he had all along been 
 given to understand that such was Mr. 
 Whitworth's intention with regard to him ; 
 "so far you are right; but it never once 
 occurred to me that yoic were to be the 
 Solomon employed to coach me up in my 
 neglected duties ; and really, Mr. Hale," here 
 he surveyed me with an air of mock respect, 
 " I feel that an apology is due to you for the 
 free-and-easy way in which I have hitherto 
 been accustomed to behave myself in your 
 august presence. Had I only been aware of 
 your identity, I should, I assure you, have 
 comported myself differently. You look so 
 young, you see," he went on, with well- 
 simulated gra.vity, " that it never for one 
 moment occurred to me that you were 
 Methuselah in disguise ;" — here a roar of 
 laughter from the other students interrupted 
 him — " but now that my eyes have been 
 opened to the true state of the case, I can 
 only throw myself upon your mercy, and 
 beg most respectfully to assure you of my 
 regret for my past familiarity " — " Well done, 
 
198 Charlie. 
 
 Harold !" vociferated the older trio, who 
 appeared most thoroughly to enjoy the little 
 scene — '' and to give you iny solemn promise 
 that for the future I will treat you with 
 becoming reverence, and that deference 
 which is undoubtedly due to your mature 
 age and vast understanding." 
 
 Another outburst of laughter followed this 
 witty summing-up of the case ; and had I 
 not previously known something of the 
 light-hearted incorrigible youth, whose studies 
 it was now my duty to direct, I should have 
 felt decidedly nonplussed and discouraged at 
 hearing myself thus held, as it were, up to 
 ridicule, and my own fitness for my new 
 office apjDarently called in question. 
 
 As it was, I felt for a few minutes rather 
 puzzled how to act. Then I inquired 
 gravely : 
 
 " Do you really think I am not properly 
 qualified to act as your tutor, Harold ?" 
 
 " Qualified, my dear fellow, of course you 
 are !'* promptly chimed in one of the others, 
 putting on an expression of mock respect ; 
 '' why, the profundity of your learning is at 
 the present moment the topic par excellence 
 which engrosses the whole Middlebury 
 
Guide, Philosopher, and Friend. 199 
 
 population, from the most eminent of our 
 Cathedral dignitaries to the meanest of our 
 crossing sweepers ; while as for your age, it 
 is universally acknowledged that you came 
 out of the ark with the Noah family. Of 
 course, the trifling fact of your having a 
 bo\ish face goes for nothing at all, as 
 centuries ago you doubtless discovered the 
 elixir of life, which, as we all know, when 
 copiously quaffed, supplies one with perennial 
 youth 1" 
 
 ^' The ark, indeed !" laughingly exclaimed 
 one of his companions ; " nothing so common, 
 Longley ! He lived long before the deluge. 
 I can tell you all about his pedigree, if 
 you care to hear it. You all of you re- 
 member Cain V looking around for appro- 
 bation. 
 
 A chorus of voices answered in the 
 affirmative, and he was going on in the same 
 jocular strain when I interrupted him by 
 saying quietly : 
 
 '' You are welcome to laugh at me as 
 much as ever you like, as I can quite under- 
 stand that it does seem presumptuous of me 
 to set up as a sort of teacher at my age ; but 
 would you mind choosing some other book 
 
200 Charlie. 
 
 instead of the Bible ? — it seems to me far too 
 sacred to be treated with levity." 
 
 " All right," began the first speaker, with 
 more good- nature than I had anticipated ; 
 and having said this, he stopped short in 
 some confusion, and glanced in the direction 
 of the door, where, greatly to our astonish- 
 ment, we discovered Mr. Whitworth. He 
 had evidently entered the room just in time 
 to overhear my last sentence, for coming 
 deliberately up to me, he put his hand kindly 
 upon my shoulder, observing, in a grave 
 earnest tone : 
 
 "You are quite right, Charlie — the Bible 
 is the last book in the world to be treated 
 with irreverence." 
 
 '^ It was not really meant for irreverence, 
 sir," I explamed, feeling somehow as if I 
 had unwittingly got my companions into a 
 scrape, and that it was, therefore, my 
 bounden duty to get them out of it again as 
 best I could. " I was only afraid that it 
 might lead to it, if we were to continue the 
 subject." 
 
 " Oh, if that is the case, I have no more 
 to say," he answered, with a shade less 
 gravity, " except that I am glad to find that 
 
Guide, Philosopher, and Friend. 201 
 
 you see the impropriety, to use no stronger 
 term, of jestin^^ on serious subjects." 
 
 And having thus briefly given us the 
 benefit of his opinion, he once more left us 
 to our own devices. 
 
 " You are a brick !" energetically protested 
 the eldest of the little group, turning con- 
 descendingly towards me as the door closed 
 upon Mr. Whitworth ; '^ some fellows of your 
 age would have simpered and tried to look 
 pious at the expense of the rest of us, instead 
 of succeeding in allaying the governor's 
 incipient suspicions, as you did." 
 
 " Yes, he's neither a sneak nor a coward !" 
 seconded Mr. Longiey, " and I, for one, will 
 uphold his authority from this day forward," 
 darting a mischievous glance at Harold 
 FortescLie, ^'in spite of his youth." 
 
 '' It's wonderfully easy for you to talk in 
 that grandiloquent fashion," retorted the 
 latter, in accents of pretended indignation ; 
 " you are not expected to put yourself, body 
 and soul, into his paternal arms, and do just 
 what he tells you from morning till night, 
 and for aught I can tell, from night till 
 morning again." 
 
 " Ah, there's the rub 1" lauohed the others: 
 
202 Charlie. 
 
 '^ poor Fortescue ! well you may shrink back 
 appalled at the ]3rospect." 
 
 " He talks of getting a scholarship for 
 himself in precisely the same matter-of-fact 
 terms as / speak about sitting down to 
 dinner," continued my hopeful charge, 
 making a gesture of comical dismay ; ^' while 
 as for exhibitions, and things of that kind, 
 he seems to think he has nothinof to do but 
 simply put out his hand and graciously 
 receive them. If, therefore, he holds these 
 exalted ideas on his own account, there is no 
 knowing what kin.d of views he may enter- 
 tain with regard to my individual self He 
 may insist, perhaps, for anything I can tell to 
 the contrary, on seeing me formally installed 
 as Lord Chancellor, or some other equally 
 dignified j)osition before he has done with 
 me." 
 
 ^* I'm afraid there's no chance of your 
 ever climbing quite so high as the woolsack," 
 I answered, with an amused smile ; where- 
 upon he veered suddenly round, and accused 
 me of Avishing to under-rate his abilities, by 
 way of enhancing the value of my own; 
 appealing to the rest of the little conclave, 
 meanwhile, with such a ludicrously reproach- 
 
Guide, Philosopher, and Friend. 203 
 
 ful air, that they could not help giving vent 
 to another paroxysm of laughter, in which 
 Harold himself presently joined as heartily 
 and good-humouredly as either of the 
 others. 
 
 VOL. I. 14 
 
204 Charlie. 
 
 CHAPTER XT. 
 
 MY SECOND VACATION. 
 
 " We are mainly what we make ourselves, what we 
 
 suffer outer circumstances to shape us, 
 As yielding or resisting, and linked with right and 
 
 wrong ] 
 Duties omitted, duties done, combine to form our 
 
 fates, 
 As faith and works may fashion them, or negligence 
 
 and passion." 
 
 In spite of Horace Fortescue's pretended 
 indignation at my being the person appointed 
 to superintend his studies, he was never rude 
 nor unreasonable with me ; but having once 
 become accustomed to the idea, and finding 
 out, I suppose, that although I was not, so 
 far as age went, entitled to receive any 
 particular respect from him, I was at the 
 same time perfectly competent to fulfil the 
 
My Second Vacation. 205 
 
 duties I had undertaken, and always ready to 
 clear up any difficulties for him, and be as 
 useful to him as I possibly could, he soon 
 ceased to find fault with the arranofement, 
 but became, on the contrary, as the weeks 
 and months passed on, really fond of me ; 
 showing himself willing and even anxious to 
 carry out any suggestion I might make with 
 regard to the several branches of learning in 
 which he was expected to take an interest, 
 and making the most surprising progress in 
 more than one department, greatly to Mr. 
 Whitworth's satisfaction, and the intense 
 delight of Harold's own father, who, 
 although he had not the necessary firmness 
 to exercise anything but the very mildest 
 form of authority over him himself, was yet 
 excessively anxious — almost morbidly so — 
 that he should grow up a clever, if not really 
 distinguished member of society. 
 
 I spent my first vacation in London, 
 having accompanied Mr. Whitworth at his 
 own special request, as he had engaged to 
 take charge of Harold, in consequence of 
 there beint/ some kind of epidemic rao-ino' in 
 the neighbourhood of the latter's own home,, 
 and wanted me to act as his companion, and 
 
 14—2 
 
206 Charlie, 
 
 look after him when he was himself pre- 
 vented from doing so, by way of keeping 
 him oat of mischief. 
 
 When the second college term had expired, 
 however, and before I coiild do more than 
 vaguely speculate as to my probable desti- 
 nation, I received a letter from Mr. Vaughan, 
 kindly informing me that he should, for the 
 future, expect me to spend my holidays with 
 him. 
 
 He had already paid me several visits, and 
 expressed himself highly gratified on hearing 
 of the progress I was making, and the satis- 
 factory result of the experiment which had 
 been tried regarding Harold Fortescue. 
 
 He was evidently afraid at first that I 
 should find this latter charge too much for 
 me, in addition to my own studies, which 
 certainly required a good deal of time and 
 thought, as I was fully determined in my 
 own mind, that, if there was anything in the 
 way of honours to be gained at the Middle- 
 bury College, I w^ould not be the last to put 
 in my claim for at least some of them I 
 
 Mr. Maxwell, too, had been on more than 
 one occasion to see me ; but up to the time 
 of my going to spend this second vacation at 
 
Mij Second Vacation, 207 
 
 the vicarage, I had not had an opportunity 
 of obtaining even a passing glance at poor 
 Mrs. Green. 
 
 I wrote her one letter, which she never 
 answered ; but she sent me a message by the 
 kind-hearted doctor, to the effect that her 
 husband had strictly prohibited her from 
 entering into a correspondence wdth me, and 
 that she was too much afraid of him to run 
 the risk of disobeying him. 
 
 I received a very cordial welcome from 
 the vicar and his young daughter, who had 
 grown — at least in my partial eyes — fairer 
 and more fascinating than ever, though she 
 teased me most unmercifully the whole time 
 I remained at the vicarage ; ordered me 
 about in her childishly imperious fashion, and 
 scarcely gave me a moment's peace. 
 
 As for studying with her in the house, it 
 w^as simply an impossibility ; for if I did by 
 any happy chance find myself in possession 
 of one of my favourite volumes, it was safe 
 to be wrested out of my hands the very 
 next time she came into the room, and 
 thrown indignantly aside ; while the laughing 
 violet eyes would be turned reproachfully 
 upon me, and the soft silvery tones begin to 
 
208 Charlie. 
 
 take me to task for being dull and stupid 
 and prosy ; and somehow, the more she 
 scolded and tyrannized over me, the more 
 irresistible did I find her, and the better I 
 liked her. 
 
 Miss Belmont had gone away for a few 
 weeks' holiday, so that there was no one, as 
 she gleefully informed me, to keep her in 
 order, her aunt being far too placid and inert 
 even to pretend to exercise a restraining 
 influence over her, and Mason having long 
 before this recognised the fact that " Miss 
 Laura " had got beyond her ; while as for the 
 vicar, he simply idolised the wilful, capricious, 
 restless, and impulsive, yet sweet-tempered 
 girl, who took the most unwarrantable 
 hberties even with his pompous and dignified 
 self, and appeared to stand no more of awe 
 of him than of the very swans she was in 
 the daily habit of petting and feeding — 
 greatly to Mr. Vaughan's dissatisfaction, as 
 he could never forget how very nearly she 
 had been drowned once before while eno^au'ed 
 in that particular occupation. 
 
 It was on a Saturdav evenincy that I 
 arrived at ISaltsea ; and had i consulted my 
 own inclination^ I should have made an 
 
My Second Vacation. 209 
 
 attempt to see Mrs. Green that same night ; 
 but for her sake I felt that it would be wiser 
 not to take any step of the kind, as her 
 husband would probably be at home, and 
 not at all likely to approve of the arrange- 
 ment. 
 
 " Does Mrs. Green still go regularly 
 to church ?" I inquired of the vicar the 
 followinof mornino^ at breakfast. 
 
 *' Yes, poor woman, she never misses a 
 Sunday," was the answer. 
 
 *' And he — Mr. Green ?" T went on, some- 
 what hesitatingly ; I was wondering how he 
 would conduct himself towards me if we 
 happened to meet. 
 
 "" Indeed, he is not by any means so 
 punctual in his attendance as he ought to be,'' 
 replied Mr. Vaughan, with a very decided 
 frown ; *' I am thinking of giving him a hint 
 on the subject." 
 
 "Yes, I am sure he deserves a reprimand," 
 chimed in old Miss Vauo^han, " as it is the 
 duty of a schoolmaster to set a good example 
 in this respect to his pupils." 
 
 *' He scarcely ever goes to church in the 
 morning," consolingly remarked Miss Laura, 
 coming up to me as we left the table, and 
 
2i0 Charlie, 
 
 speaking in a half whisper — how clever she 
 Avas in reading one's thoughts ; '^ so you will 
 be able to see that dear Mrs. Green by her- 
 self after service." 
 
 I gave her a look and smile in token of 
 thanks, and then she hurried away to get 
 dressed, and not long afterwards she and her 
 aunt and myself were walking along in the 
 direction of the village church. 
 
 How strange it seemed to be sitting in the 
 vicar's pew ! I almost fancied I must have 
 changed my identity since last I worshipped 
 within those venerable walls. Short though 
 the time was, it had done the work of years 
 upon my individuality — changed the whole 
 current of my life, opened up new vistas, 
 widened my horizon, and developed my 
 character. 
 
 I could scarcely realise it, or believe that 
 it was in very deed myself — the some-time 
 isolated, student-lad, who had been wont to 
 dream away so many lonely hours upon the 
 *' sad sea shore," with no companions save 
 books, no particular aims or objects save such 
 as were far away and dim and visionary — 
 myself no longer a mere dreamer, or thinker, 
 but a would-be worker, looking upon men 
 
My Second Vacation. 211 
 
 and things in an altogether different hi^ht to 
 my former hazy vision ; no longer solitary, 
 but one of a class, beginning to have my 
 sympathies drawn out in various directions, 
 and conscious of a new-born fellow-feeling for 
 all who, whatever might be their grade or 
 social position, were yet in one way or 
 another earnestly fulfilling their several 
 duties in the world's great arena, battling 
 perchance with their own many-sided diffi- 
 culties, or else helping others to conquer 
 theirs ; fighting their way oftentimes amidst 
 doubt and darkness and perplexity, manfully 
 breasting the storm, and heroically facing 
 tribulation. 
 
 Yes ; I was certainly changed ! I had, so 
 far as mind and heart went, passed the 
 transition stage from boyhood to manhood. 
 
 First, the crushing and overwhelming 
 calamity of Mr. Joyce^s death, Avith its 
 terrible desolating efifects ; then the shock of 
 his widow's re-marrias^e, too-ether with Mr. 
 Greens subsequent unkind treatment of 
 myself, and what had afterwards followed in 
 consequence ; all conspired to make me leave 
 my youth behind me, and feel as if I had 
 entered upon an entirely new existence. 
 
212 Charlie. 
 
 So wholly absorbed was I in these re- 
 flections, that I forgot all about Mrs. Green 
 until I felt a soft touch upon my arm, and 
 heard an excited voice whispering in my 
 ear : 
 
 "Look up, Charlie — she's coming in now — 
 I see the top of her bonnet." 
 
 Thus adjured, I did look up ; and by dint 
 of twisting my head round, I was just able 
 to get a passing glimpse of Mrs. Green's 
 well-known face, as she quietly entered the 
 church and seated herself in her accustomed 
 place, a few pews behind ourselves. 
 
 I had neither time nor opj)ortunity for 
 discovering whether she was conscious of my 
 own presence, as at that ver}^ moment the 
 opening voluntary died away on the organ, 
 and Mr. Vaughan stood up and commenced 
 the service. 
 
 When it was over, I once more looked 
 round, and this time there was no doubt as 
 to my having been recognised, for I met her 
 eyes fixed full upon me, and there was a 
 smile of welcome upon her lips, while she 
 remained expectantly waiting, until the 
 little crowd w^hich separated us should 
 disperse, and allow us to exchange a more 
 
My Second Vacation. 213 
 
 satisfactory mode of greeting than that 
 which could merely be expressed by looks. 
 
 At last — all impediments being removed — 
 we found ourselves standing side by side in 
 the little covered porch leading into the 
 churchyard, telling each other how glad we 
 were to meet again, and mutually asking and 
 answering questions as to how we had been 
 during this long interval of enforced sepa- 
 ration. 
 
 Mr. Green's name was not once mentioned 
 durinof that first interview, and thou^rh I 
 should have liked to find out from her 
 whether he was treating her well, I felt a 
 sort of delicate shrinking from alluding to so 
 painful a subject, unless she should of her 
 own accord pave the way for it. 
 
 I accompanied her part of the way home, 
 and might have gone further, but, as we 
 approached the village street, her manner 
 became so nervous and embarrassed, and she 
 ■ cast so many half frightened glances around 
 her, that I concluded she must be in mortal 
 terror lest her tyrannical husband should 
 swoop down upon us, and probably take her 
 to task for presuming to walk with me without 
 having first obtained his permission to do so. 
 
214 Charlie. 
 
 To set her mind at rest, therefore, I said 
 presently, without allowing anything like 
 surprise or annoyance to creep into my 
 tone : 
 
 *' Perhaps you would rather I did not 
 come any further just now ?" 
 
 " Well, dear — it may be better not," she 
 answered hesitatingly, but with an air of 
 unmistakable relief. 
 
 " Very well ; I will say good-bye;" and I 
 stood still and held out my hand. ^' I wonder 
 when I shall see you again ?" I added, some- 
 what wistfully, as I noticed for the first time 
 how much thinner and paler she looked than 
 in the days gone by. '' Could you not come 
 to the vicarage ? choosing your own time 
 you know," I went on meaningly ; " and then 
 we might have a long talk, and " 
 
 " Yes, yes," she eagerly interposed ; " I'll 
 manage it somehow — never fear !" And with 
 a little flickering smile, and a soft tender 
 light shining in her eyes, she hurried away, 
 leaving me to retrace my own steps, feeling 
 uncomfortably conscious that my former 
 suspicions with regard to Mr. Green's arbi- 
 trary and despotic temperament were only too 
 well-founded, and that she had long ere this 
 
My Second Vacation. 215 
 
 discovered in her own unfortunate experience 
 the truth of those dismal forebodings which 
 I had so unsuccessfully essayed to sound in 
 her unwilling ears on first hearing of her 
 contemplated marriage. 
 
 I soon overtook Miss Yaughan and her 
 niece, who had considerately left me to talk 
 to Mrs. Green alone ; and before we reached 
 the vicarage, the clergyman himself had 
 joined us. 
 
 In the evening Mr. Yaughan invited me 
 to drive with him to the next parish, wdiere 
 he had engaged to preach for a friend ; and 
 when Miss Laura heard of the proposed plan, 
 she insisted on making one of the party. 
 
 We attended this new church, therefore ; 
 listened to one of the vicar's driest and 
 longest sermons, and returned at length, in 
 the semi-darkness, to find Miss Yaughan 
 and the strange clergyman, whom the vicar 
 has deputed to act as his substitute, engaged 
 in an amicable discussion respecting a move- 
 ment which the bishop of the diocese had 
 recently set on foot, with the view of 
 ameliorating^ the condition of a certain class 
 of mechanics, who had suffered much from 
 lack of employment during the winter 
 
216 Charlie, 
 
 months, and stood, therefore, according to 
 his judgment, in great need of a helping 
 hand to enable them to make a fresh 
 start. 
 
 I saw Mrs. Green again a few days later, 
 and had a long conversation with her, in the 
 course of which she questioned me with the 
 greatest eagerness about myself; the kind of 
 life I led at Mr. Whit worth's ; the nature of 
 my duties with regard to Harold Fortescue, 
 the number of hours I required to study 
 during term-time ; and numerous other 
 similar particulars ; but I cannot say that 
 she was equally communicative in talking 
 about her own affairs. 
 
 She seemed, in fact, rather inclined to 
 maintain a strict silence on the subject, and 
 whatever information I did elicit was very 
 reluctantly afforded, and only in answer to 
 my anxious inquiries on the subject of Mr. 
 Green's present mode of conducting himself 
 towards her. 
 
 It was not mere idle curiosity which 
 actuated me in thus wishing to ascertain 
 whether she was moderately happy ; but a 
 sort of lingering hope that I might, in some 
 as yet undiscovered way, be the moans of 
 
My Second Vacation. 217 
 
 extricatinof her from her difficulties — an 
 achievement, however, which, the more I 
 considered it, the mere difficult did it appear, 
 so sfreat was the risk of doino^ harm rather 
 than good by attempting to interfere in ever 
 so dehcate and roundabout a fashion between 
 herself and her husband. 
 
 From the peculiar way in which Mr. 
 Vauo'han spoke of him, I could easily see 
 that he was by no means satisfied with the 
 manner in which Mr. Green was performing 
 his official duties, and I strongly suspected 
 that if some chang^e for the better did not 
 soon take place in this respect, he would find 
 himself dismissed from his post. 
 
 So many complaints had, from time to 
 time reached Mr. Vaus^han's ears of the 
 schoolmaster's negligence and inefficiency, 
 and the very slow progress which his pupils 
 made under his tuition ; and although, out 
 of consideration for Mrs. Green, the vicar 
 would fain have condoned her husband's 
 faults if he could, he naturally felt that there 
 was a point beyond which clemency would 
 partake of the nature of weakness, a sort of 
 temporising with evil such as he, with his 
 proud and dominant spirit and strict notions 
 
218 Charlie, 
 
 of right and wrong, would be the very last 
 to approve of. 
 
 Happily for Mrs. Green's peace of mind, 
 however, she did not seem just then to be 
 aware of the frail tenure bv which he held 
 the situation that had been so well and ably 
 filled by her first husband. 
 
 She only knew (this discovery I made not 
 from herself, but from other quarters) that as 
 time went on he seemed to crrow more 
 reckless and uncertain in his habits ; the 
 fictitious good qualities with which she had 
 so liberally invested him, passed one by one 
 out of sight, and that stability of character 
 and undoubted steadiness, which she had 
 from the verv first criven him credit for 
 possessing in no ordinary degree, began 
 gradually to leave him, until he had drifted 
 into late hours ; frequent and unexplained 
 absences from home ; a ofrowinof intimacv 
 with certain questionable acquaintances 
 (whose very names were held in disrepute by 
 the more respectable members of the Saltsea 
 community, on account of their idle dissolute 
 habits, and the unblushing defiance with 
 wliich the}" seemed to set at naught the laws 
 alike of God and man), and numerous other 
 
My Second Vacation, 219 
 
 reprehensible practices, which filled his poor 
 gentle wife with a sense of horrified dismay, 
 such as she had never yet been conscious of 
 feeling, and kept her in a state of most 
 uncomfortable suspense, never knowing what 
 fresh calamity might overtake her, what new 
 delinquency her false-hearted husband might 
 be guilty of, by way of forcing her to drink 
 still deeper of the cup of humiliation and 
 distress. 
 
 Mr. Green's natural artfulness and dup- 
 Hcity, and the extreme plausibility which he 
 could so easily assume when it suited his 
 purpose to exert himself, stood him now in 
 good stead, as it enabled him to escape 
 detection much longer than might under 
 other circumstances have been possible. 
 
 His manner became so deferential and 
 insinuatinor whenever he was brouorht into 
 direct personal contact with any of the 
 parochial authorities who happened to have 
 a voice in the matter of examining into the 
 aftairs of the school, and his opinions were 
 so invariably nothing more or less than an 
 echo of the magnate's own, that in nine 
 cases out of ten he was pronounced a most 
 sensible and judicious teacher ; and if any 
 
 VOL. I. 15 
 
220 Charlie. 
 
 rumours of a slighting nature did occasionally 
 reach their ears, they were instantly dis- 
 missed as being unworthy of credence, and 
 probably set down as the work of some 
 enemy who wished to ofet him into 
 trouble. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan s case was a totally distinct 
 one. He prided himself upon his own 
 independence and impartiality of judgment ; 
 and if the villagers had not stood too much 
 in awe of him to speak freely in his presence 
 — if instead of merely respectfully informing 
 him that their boys did not get on under Mr. 
 Green's superintendence, they had gone 
 further, and explained that he was not, in 
 point of character, what he ought to be — he 
 would have instantly set about thoroughly 
 investigating the matter, and ended most 
 certainly in stripping away the mask which 
 covered his real nature, and probably dis- 
 missed him from the Saltsea scenes al- 
 toofether. 
 
 Long before my vacation had come to a 
 close, I had been put into full possession of 
 these and other important facts, too numerous 
 to mention ; and the only thing I really 
 •pondered at was Mr. (xreen's cleverness in 
 
My Second Vacation. 22 L 
 
 beino: able to succeed so well in evadinof 
 actual disgrace. 
 
 Mrs. Grimshaw (the garrulous lodge- 
 keeper, who had nursed rue so kindly when I 
 w^as laid up in her cottage, after my suc- 
 cessful plunge in the lake, more than a year 
 before Mr. Joyce's death, and whom I 
 occasionally fell in with as I rambled about 
 the vicarage grounds in company with the 
 young lady whose fairy-like presence had on 
 that occasion brought a ray of sunshine into 
 the dingy little room which I was occupying, 
 and served so effectually to beguile the 
 tedium of my enforced seclusion) did not 
 hesitate to tell me all that she knew about 
 what she called the '^ schoolmaster's goings 
 on ;" but greatly to my relief, she always 
 chose the time when I happened to be alone 
 with her for getting upon this particular 
 subject. 
 
 She seemed instinctively to recognise the 
 fact that when the vicar's daughter was 
 present she ought not to allude to it at all ; 
 *' because," as she confidentially informed me 
 one day, when I accidentally came across her 
 in the grounds, " Miss Laura is such an 
 impulsive darling, that if she heard anything 
 
 15—2 
 
222 Charlie. 
 
 about anyone that she did not like, she would 
 never rest until she had gone and told them 
 all about it, and that, you know, would never 
 do in Mr. Green's case." 
 
 '^ No, of course not," I answered, feeling 
 that there was nothing else to say. 
 
 " He may not be quite such a bad man as 
 we think," pursued Mrs. Grimshaw, with a 
 very discouraging shake of her head ; " but 
 anyway, he's not what he ought to be, and 
 I pity his poor wife from the very bottom of 
 my heart." 
 
 ^' But I hope he is fairly kind to her," I 
 observed, in a hesitating kind of way. 
 
 " Well, 'tis to be hoped he is ;" was the 
 evasive reply. " At any rate, there is no call to 
 let his reverence know all the rumours that 
 are afloat regarding him ; because if he" — 
 meaning Mr. Vaughan — '* does not choose 
 to encourage the poor people to tell him 
 their troubles, and all that sort of thing, it 
 stands to reason, you know, they cannot have 
 the same confidence in him as they would if 
 he was a kinder and more come-at-able 
 man." 
 
 '* Oh, I don't know," I replied, feeling it 
 incumbent on me to say a word in my 
 
Mij Second Vacation. 223 
 
 patron's favour; "wherever I go, it seems 
 to me he is treated with the greatest 
 respect." 
 
 '' Respect, indeed 1" she retorted, with an 
 air of superior wisdom. *' No doubt that 
 appears a fine thing to you, my lad, but to 
 my mind it's not at all the kind of feeling a 
 clergyman ought to inspire." 
 
 " Do you think not ?" I inquired, very 
 dubiously ; ^' why, I always fancied " 
 
 **You see, this is how the case stands," 
 she continued, without paying the least 
 attention to my doubtful tone ; '' the people 
 are as a rule so much in awe of him, that 
 they scarcely dare open their lips in his 
 presence ; while as for consulting him in 
 their little difficulties, or looking to him for 
 sympathy, why, they would never dream of 
 such a thing ; and if they did," smiling 
 grimly, '* well, I question whether he would 
 have patience to listen to them." 
 
 " You are a Dissenter 1" I exclaimed, a 
 sudden recollective light flashing across my 
 mind ; *' I had foro^otten that." 
 
 " You think I am prejudiced," she 
 answered, with a good-humoured laugh, *' in 
 favour of my own ministers V 
 
224 Charlie, 
 
 *' It is of course quite natural that you 
 should prefer the particular denomination to 
 which you belong," I admitted, *' but you 
 must at any rate give Mr. Yaughan, so far, 
 credit for being neither bigoted nor narrow- 
 minded. Some clergymen/' I added mean- 
 ingly, " would set their faces against 
 employing people who, like yourself and 
 your husband, do not attend their own 
 church." 
 
 "Yes, that's true enough ;" she acquiesced; 
 " I've known such cases in my own 
 experience " 
 
 " About Mr. Green, however," I hurriedly 
 interposed, seeing that she was evidently 
 prepared to launch out into a lengthy 
 description of some of her ^ experiences ' in 
 this respect ; '' I do hope he will improve." 
 
 " There's much need for improvement at 
 the present moment," replied Mrs. Grim- 
 shaw, rather gloomily. '^ for, between our- 
 selves, he's a downright hypocrite. They do 
 say," she went on mysteriously, after she had 
 glanced cautiously around her to make sure 
 that there were no listeners, "that even the 
 certificates be brought forward in proof of 
 his being a proper person to step into Mr. 
 
My Second Vacation. 225 
 
 Joyce's place were nothing but forgeries, 
 and that he knows no more about the duties 
 of a schoohii aster than I do myself" 
 
 " It is very unfortunate," I murmured, a 
 world of pity welling up in my heart for the 
 poor deceived wife, who, if half the reports 
 which were currently circulated in the village 
 were true, would be sure to suffer either 
 directly or indirectly from the collapse which 
 must necessarily follow, so soon as these 
 rumours should assume a definite form, and 
 reach the ears of those most interested in 
 the matter. 
 
226 Charlie, 
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 FIEST THOUGHTS AKE NOT ALWAYS BEST. 
 
 " When heaven half opens its arms, he who is faint- 
 hearted deserves not anything. It is this want of faith 
 that often keeps heaven from bestowing its blessings ; 
 and even when they descend, it is apt to send them 
 away." 
 
 " Fortune and caprice govern the world." 
 
 By dint of very hard work, I was soon 
 successful in obtaining sundry prizes, in the 
 shape of exhibitions, etc., which enabled me 
 to continue my course of study at the Middle- 
 bury College under still more favourable 
 terms. But, better than all — to make a long 
 story short — I gained at last the summit of 
 my ambition, the thing of things which I 
 most coveted — an open scholarship, enabling 
 me to go to Oxford, where I hoped and 
 
First Thoughts are Not always Best. 227 
 
 intended to take my degree, and afterwards 
 be guided by circumstances as to my future 
 destiny. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan was so much pleased at the 
 way matters had turned out, that he came 
 forward most generously, and insisted on 
 being allowed the privilege — this is what he 
 called it, though I gave it another and 
 widely different name — of supplying the 
 necessary funds to launch me creditably forth 
 upon any profession which I might choose as 
 being the most suitable in which to exercise 
 my talents. 
 
 My own inclination, if that had been all 
 which was wanting to settle this important 
 question, would have led me to select the 
 Bar, in preference to any other calling ; and 
 Mr. Vaughan, who happened, in some 
 incidental way, to become acquainted with 
 this fact, rather encouraged the idea, and 
 offered me every facility for carrying it into 
 effect. 
 
 Notwithstanding his kind wdsh that I 
 should spend all my vacations at the vicarage, 
 I had not done so, as Harold Fortescue's 
 father was so delighted with the progress his 
 son still continued to make under my superin- 
 
228 Charlie. 
 
 tendence, that lie soon began to entertain a 
 very exaggerated opinion of my own 
 individual merits, and a proportionate degree 
 of dread lest my influence over the some- 
 time idle and careless, but now really studious 
 and diligent lad, should become weakened by 
 separation. He begged me, therefore, as a 
 personal favour, that I would accompany the 
 latter whenever he went to Fortescue Hall 
 — the name of their Yorkshire estate — 
 ofi'ering me a handsome remuneration for my 
 services, which ofler I very naturally declined, 
 knowing as I did that these so-called 
 *' services " were purely fictitious, existing 
 only in old Mr. Fortescue's imagination, and 
 that during the w^hole of my visits I had 
 nothing whatever to do except enjoy my- 
 self 
 
 I gratefully allowed him, however, to pay 
 my travelhng expenses for me ; and as time 
 passed on I found myself obliged to receive 
 more than one costly present from him. 
 
 I say obliged^ because the peculiar way in 
 which these presents were given utterly 
 precluded me from refusing to receive them, 
 however anxious I might have been to 
 do so. 
 
First ThoiigJifs are Not always Best. 229 
 
 Bat I was not anxious ; for I had grown 
 to love the kind old man only second to his 
 son, and having once arrived at this peculiar 
 staofe, it was no long^er difficult for me to 
 accept a favour at his hands ; as I have 
 always been of opinion that a mutual feeling 
 of genuine affection between the giver and 
 the receiver ousfht to — I do not venture to 
 affirm that it invariably does — break down 
 all other barriers, and do away with the 
 crushing" weio^ht of oblig^ation on the one 
 hand, and a complacent sense of generosity 
 on the other. 
 
 But to return to the subject of Mr. 
 Fortescue's first earnest request, that I would 
 accompany his son into Yorkshire. 
 
 I was so taken by surprise at the sug- 
 gestion that I could scarcely realise what was 
 required of me, nor plainly see what my duty, 
 under the circumstances, would be. There 
 were so many things to be considered. First 
 and foremost, what was due to Mr. Yaughan, 
 who had made every arrangement for me to 
 return to the vicaras^e, and mio^ht consider it 
 unocrateful of me were I to talk of chanGfins: 
 his plans. Then, again, there was Mr. 
 Whit worth to be consulted, as I naturally 
 
230 Charlie, 
 
 wished, as far as I could possibly do so, to 
 carry out his views, and take whatever step 
 he might recommend ; and last, but certainly 
 not least, I was anxious to discover what 
 Harold's own ideas on the subject were — 
 whether he would be pleased, or the reverse, 
 at the prospect of having me about him as a 
 sort of fixture, not only during term-time, 
 but also in the vacations. 
 
 My mind was soon set at rest on this latter 
 question, however, for directly he heard, 
 through Mr. Whitworth, of his father's 
 proposal, he came to me with a face and 
 manner of such evident delight, that all my 
 doubts vanished as if by magic, and I could 
 plainly perceive that it was the arrangement 
 of all others which he would himself have 
 chosen, if his opinion had been asked on the 
 subject. 
 
 " You positively must come, old fellow I" 
 he rapturously exclaimed ; '' I shall enjoy 
 my holidays a thousand times more if you are 
 with me than I should otherwise have done." 
 
 *' Are you sure you are not saying this 
 just to please me ?" I asked, feeling secretly 
 gratified at the warmth and unmistakable 
 sincerity of his manner. 
 
First Thoughts are Not always Best. 231 
 
 *' Certain !" he responded, in a voice of 
 decision ; " I am far too selfish to think of 
 anyone's interests except my own/' 
 
 '' I had a sort of fancy you would feel that 
 you had had enough of me already," I 
 explained, with a little smile. 
 
 ** One cannot have too much of a good 
 thing, you know," he answered lightly. 
 
 I shook my head rather dubiously, and he 
 went on, with a touch of humour : 
 
 " It's just as well, too, that you should 
 have an opportunity of keeping your eye 
 upon me ; as, if left entirely to my own 
 devices, I might probably relapse into my 
 old habits." 
 
 *^ I am not afraid of that," I replied in all 
 sincerity, '' you have succeeded so well of 
 late, that you would never again be satisfied 
 to become a mere idler." 
 
 " Oh, there's no knowing ivhat I might 
 become if I were deprived of your venerable 
 society," he laughingly rejoined. " But, 
 joking apart," he continued seriously, " I 
 really am grateful to you for helping me to 
 exert myself ; and I'll tell you what it was 
 which influenced me more than anything 
 else." 
 
232 Charlie, 
 
 ^^ What T I asked, as he paused. 
 
 " Well, it Avas seeing you work so hard 
 yourself; so it's quite true what they say, 
 example is better than precept any day." 
 
 "You only wanted a little encouragement," 
 I observed. 
 
 " Yes, and that's just what you gave me," 
 was Harold's quick reply, "instead of always 
 bewailing my idleness, and groaning over my 
 lack of application, you seemed to take it for 
 granted from the very first that I should 
 soon become as studiously inclined as your- 
 self ; and it was more from the fear of dis- 
 appointing you than anything else, that I 
 began at length to bestir myself in real 
 earnest." 
 
 *' Whatever the motive may have been, 
 you deserve credit at any rate for persevering 
 so well," I remarked cheerfully. 
 
 " You ivill go with me, will you not ?" he 
 asked, coming back to the holiday question ; 
 '' the dear old Pater will be so glad to see 
 you, and you will be quite in your element 
 amongst all the musty folios at Fortescue 
 Hall." 
 
 *' I am sure I should like it," I replied ; 
 " but the first thinof to do will be to 
 
First Thoughts are Not aliuays Best. 233 
 
 find out what Mr. Vaughan thinks about 
 it." 
 
 '^ Bother Mr. Yaughan !" was the irre- 
 verent exclamation ; "he will be sure to put 
 his veto upon it, just because he wants you 
 himself." 
 
 '* You forget that it is pure kindness on 
 his part asking me to the vicarage at all ; I 
 have no claim whatever upon him — no more 
 than I have on yourself." 
 
 '' No claim, indeed !" remonstrated my 
 companion ; " did you not save his daughter's 
 life at the risk of your own ?" 
 
 " Nonsense," I hastily objected, " that was 
 nothing ! a mere boyish impulse — not w^orth 
 talkino^ about." 
 
 '* He thinks differently I suspect," signi- 
 ficantly retorted the other. "It w^as Mr. 
 Whitworth who told me about it ; and he 
 said " 
 
 " There, never mind, Harold," I interposed 
 somewhat impatiently ; "it is perfectly 
 ridiculous going back to that old story." 
 
 " All right," and he laughed good- 
 fa umouredly, " we won't talk about it if you 
 don't like. I only wanted to remind you 
 that it is not altog^ether from disinterested 
 
234 Charlie, 
 
 motives that Mr. Yauglian acts towards you 
 as kindly as he does. He is proud of you, 
 too ; thinks you will turn out a sort of star, 
 and reflect credit upon himself, and all that 
 kind of thing ; and then he's immensely rich, 
 I hear, and can well afford to please himself 
 by taking up a fancy if he likes, whether 
 there happens to be a question of obligation 
 or not." 
 
 I could not help being slightly amused at 
 the extraordinary idea he seemed to have of 
 Mr. Vaughan's character, and I smiled to 
 myself as I proceeded to write to the latter, 
 inclosing Mr. Fortescue's letter, and asking 
 his advice as to whether it would be advisable 
 for me to accept the proposal it contained, 
 and accompany Harold to Fortescue Hall. 
 
 Almost before I had time to wonder what 
 the answer would be, it came — not a letter, 
 but himself — in propria persona ! 
 
 *' You are surprised to see me, Charlie V 
 he observed, as he shook hands with me in 
 Mr. Whitworth's drawing-room, whither I 
 had been summoned immediately on my 
 return from the college the following 
 morning ; ^* but directly I got your letter I 
 set out — and here I am." 
 
First Thoughts are Not always Best. 235 
 
 ^* It was very kind of you to come so 
 soon," I replied. 
 
 " I have already had a long talk with Mr. 
 Whitworth on the subject," he observed, 
 coming to the point at once, as was his usual 
 habit in such cases, "and I'm afraid, from what 
 he says, you will have to go to Yorkshire — 
 always supposing, of course," he added quickly 
 *' that it coincides with your own wishes." 
 
 " I should like to do what seems right," 
 I answered thoughtfully. 
 
 "Ah, yes, very good and proper," ac- 
 quiesced my clerical friend ; " still, I should 
 wish you to consult your inclination a little," 
 and he smiled graciousl}^ 
 
 " For my own part," he continued 
 presently, seeing that I was in no hurry to 
 speak, " I won't disguise the fact that I shall 
 be very sorry not to have you at the vicarage ; 
 while as for a certain young lady, whom I 
 could name," he went on, a tender smile 
 appearing on the generally stern set lips, "' she 
 wiU be indignant in the extreme if she hears 
 you are not coming." 
 
 " Is she quite Avell ?" I asked, with an air 
 of eager interest, which I found myself quite 
 unable to diso^uise. 
 
 VOL. I. 16 
 
236 Charlie. 
 
 ^' Yes, and she wanted to send all sorts of 
 messages to you," was the amused reply, 
 *' only I had not time to listen to them." 
 
 *' I should like to see her," I said, rather 
 hesitatingly, ^' before I go — if I do go to 
 Yorkshire." 
 
 ^' So you shall," he kindly assured me ; 
 ^' I will bring her over to spend a day at the 
 deanery, unless you should make up your 
 mind to decline Mr. Fortescue's invitation ;" 
 and he eyed me somewhat keenly. 
 
 ^' I would much prefer being guided by 
 you in the matter," I replied, looking up 
 with a sudden resolve. 
 
 '^ That places me in a little difficulty,'' was 
 the reflective rejoinder ; " on the one hand, 
 I would rather have you at the vicarage, 
 while on the other, Mr. Whitworth is so 
 strongly in favour of your falling in w^ith his 
 relative's suggestion, that I fear it would not 
 be wise of me to urge you to the con- 
 trary." 
 
 " Harold wishes it, too," I said, more to 
 myself than my dignified companion, '' so 
 perhaps I had better go." 
 
 *' Well, it may be best," acknowledged 
 Mr. Vaughan ; " indeed, I believe it will be. 
 
First Thoughts are Not always Best. 237 
 
 so we will consider the matter settled ;" and 
 then he proceeded to enter into a few 
 practical considerations with regard to my 
 ajDproaching visit. 
 
 He did not forget his promise to bring 
 Miss Laura to Middlebury ; and I had the 
 honour of being invited to the deanery to 
 meet her, and in the afternoon T took her to 
 hear the cathedral choir sinof one of their 
 sweetest anthems, which delighted her 
 beyond measure, as she was passionately 
 fond of music, and would stay for hours 
 listening to it — if she only had the chance — 
 displaying, in the meantime, none of that 
 restlessness which usually characterised her, 
 but sitting, on the contrary, perfectly still, 
 listening with a rapt intense interest to each 
 note, and never apparently becoming weary, 
 or allowing her attention for one moment to 
 wander to other thinofs. 
 
 Afterwards I returned with her to the 
 deanery, and when she had said good-bye to 
 her friends there, she went back with me to 
 Mr. Whitworth's, where it was arranged the 
 vicar should join her, and have tea before 
 starting: for home. 
 
 So long as she found herself among other 
 
 IG— 2 
 
238 Charlie. 
 
 people she refrained from giving me the 
 benefit of her opinion as to my forthcoming 
 visit ; but directly we were alone she turned 
 towards me with a solemnly reproachful air. 
 saying very decidedly : 
 
 *' It's not at all nice of you, Charlie, to 
 want to go away from us." 
 
 " I don't loaiit to go/' I answered 
 soothingly. 
 
 '^ Why do you do it, then T she not 
 unnaturally demanded. 
 
 ** It is a question of duty," I vaguely 
 replied. 
 
 " I don't believe it's your duty at all," she 
 scornfully retorted ; " Mason always told me 
 it was wicked to tell stories ; and now you 
 are telling one, or at least/' this was added 
 rather hesitatingly, " making papa tell one, 
 which is just as bad." • 
 
 ^' I assure vou it is a mistake," I faltered, 
 fairly bewildered by this new view of the 
 case; ^' I should be very sorry to say what 
 wasn't true." 
 
 " I don't know about being sorry," she 
 pouted, while something very like tears 
 gathered in the lovely violet eyes, '' but 
 you've done it. Papa told me over and ()ver 
 
First Thoughts are Not cdtuat/s Best. 239 
 
 again that you were going to spend all your 
 holidays at the vicarage ; and now you won't 
 come ; so youVe made poor papa say what 
 isn't true." 
 
 ** But I always intended to come, if Mr. 
 Vaughan would have me/' I seriously 
 endeavoured to explain. 
 
 *^ Yes, but you are not doing it/' she 
 persisted, " and I do think it's very unkind 
 of you to go away with that horrid boy, who 
 doesn't want you a bit, and leave 7ne all by 
 myself." 
 
 " But, dear Miss Laura, you have got 
 your papa, and your aunt, and Miss Belmont, 
 and Mason, and lots of other peoj)le/' I 
 wonderingiy reminded her. 
 
 ^' I don't care, I want you !" she exclaimed, 
 in her old imperious way ; " they,'' throwing 
 any amount of disdain into her voice, ^' can't 
 amuse me scarcely at all." 
 
 " As far as that goes, I'm afraid I should 
 not be much use either," I replied, with the 
 utmost seriousness. 
 
 ^^ Oh yes, you would," she eagerly re- 
 sponded; "you always did what I wanted the 
 last time you came ; and now I had got such 
 a lot of nice plans in my head about things 
 
240 Charlie. 
 
 I was going to do, or," candidly correcting 
 herself, '^ make you do for me." 
 
 '' There's no one in the world 1 would 
 rather do things for than yourself," T 
 impulsively assured her ; and almost without 
 knowing what I did, I put out my hand, 
 and gently touched one of hers, glancing 
 earnestly, meanwhile, into the lovely, deli- 
 cately tinted countenance. 
 
 ^' Isn't there —really f" she asked, with one 
 of those swift changes of mood and manner 
 which rendered her so irresistibly attractive. 
 
 '' Keally," I affirmed, with a smile. 
 
 " Then I'll forgive you," was the mag- 
 nanimous announcement, and the small hand 
 I had just touched was confidingl}^ slipped 
 into mine, while the last remaining vestige of 
 indignation cleared away from the smooth 
 white forehead, and her eyes literally danced 
 with generous satisfaction. 
 
 " That's right," I responded, gently press- 
 ing the little hand ; ^' I should not like to feel 
 you were angry with me." 
 
 '^ No ; it's very naughty of me to scold, 
 and I Avon't do it again," was her penitent 
 rejoinder, ^*and I dare say you couldn't help 
 it. 
 
First Thoughts are Not alimys Best. 241 
 
 *' Shall I tell you a secret V I asked, 
 stooping down, and speaking in a semi- 
 confidential tone. 
 
 " Yes, do," she delightedly cried, standing 
 on tiptoe, the better to look into my face. 
 
 *' If it only depended upon my own 
 
 feelings,^' I proceeded^ in a grave mysterious 
 
 whisper, " I would much rather stay with 
 
 you than go with him — so now you know all 
 
 about it." 
 
 "Yes — and it's good of you to go— I am 
 sure it is ;" and she seemed as eager now in 
 making allowances for me, as she had hither- 
 to been in finding fault. 
 
 " Well, my little rosebud, how are you 
 getting on ?" asked Mr. Vaughan, who 
 hajDpened to come just at that moment into 
 the room, " not tired of Middlebury 
 
 yetr^ 
 
 " It's not Middlebury I am thinking of, 
 papa," was the half reproving answer, " but 
 Charhe." 
 
 " Ah, yes ; you are a very staunch little 
 lady, I'll say that for you !" laughed her 
 indulofent father : " she never fors^ets a friend 
 — do you, my pet V turning lovingly towards 
 her. 
 
242 Charlie, 
 
 *^ IVe not been very friendly, though," she 
 eompunctiously informed him, ''until just 
 now." 
 
 ^' What have you been doing ; scolding 
 him, I suppose ?" and there Avas a humorous 
 twinkle in the vicar's eye not often seen 
 there. 
 
 '^ Indeed, Miss Laura has been most kind," 
 I hastily interposed, seeing that she was 
 about to reproach herself for the few in- 
 dignant words she had spoken. '' She did 
 not exactly understand my motives for going 
 away at first, but now she is quite satisfied ;" 
 and I glanced smilingly at her. 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; '' but why do you 
 call me Miss Laura ? I call you Charlie ; 
 why don't you say Laura ?" 
 
 '^ Oh, the cases are not quite the same," I 
 stammered out, as I darted a quick uneasy 
 glance at her dignified father. 
 
 ^^ I don't like to be called Miss Laura," 
 she went on, with a little imperious gesture; 
 *^it's only the servants who do that." 
 
 I do not know whether Mr. Vauoiian 
 noticed the sudden flush which passed over 
 my face as she said this ; it is just possible 
 that he did. At any rate, he promptly came 
 
First TJioughts are Not alivays Best. 243 
 
 to my assistance, by saying, in a voice which 
 savoured even to my proudly sensitive ear of 
 nothino; but kindness : 
 
 '^ I am sure, now that Charlie knows your 
 extreme anxiety on the subject, he will do 
 his best to oblige you. The fact is," he 
 continued, turning smilingly round upon 
 myself, '' she's a little bit of a tyrant in her 
 way, so you must humour her." 
 
 '' It won't be difficult," I replied, regarding 
 him with rather a conscious look. 
 
 '' Then you luill call me Laura ?" was 
 the young lady's somewhat anxious inquiry. 
 
 " Yes, if you and Mr. Vaughan do not 
 object," I replied, in a low tone. 
 
 ^' Object /" and the soft eyes opened to 
 their widest extent. '' What funny creatures 
 boys are, to be sure ! Why, I've been begging 
 you to do it, and now you say if we don't 
 object ; isn't it very odd, papa ?" 
 
 ''Very odd indeed," he assented, without 
 once glancing in my direction. 
 
 Fortunately for my own equanimity, I was 
 saved the necessity for anything in the shape 
 of explanation by the simultaneous entrance 
 of Mr. Whitworth, his sister, Mrs. May, and 
 Harold Fortescue ; and a few minutes later 
 
244 Charlie. 
 
 we were sitting down to an informal meal, a 
 sort of substantial tea, which was intended to 
 supplement the deanery luncheon, and make 
 up to the vicar and his daughter in some 
 measure for the loss of their late dinner. 
 
 I saw the latter's eyes fixed from time to 
 time very thoughtfully upon Harold's face, 
 and he seemed for his part to be quite 
 conscious of her investigation, and some- 
 what at a loss to account for it. 
 
 At last, during a temj)orary lull in the 
 conversation, she turned deliberately towards 
 me, and remarked, in a stage whisper, which 
 was perfectly audible to everyone at the 
 table : 
 
 " I think perhaps, Charlie, he's not quite 
 such a horrid boy as I fancied." 
 
 ^^ My dear Laura," began her scandalised 
 father remonstratingly, and then he stopped, 
 apparently unable to think of anything 
 further to say, and cast his eyes helplessly 
 upon the tablecloth. 
 
 ^' Is it of me you are speaking V inquired 
 Harold, in a voice of commendable gravity, 
 though I could plainly see that it was only 
 by making a strenuous effort that he pre- 
 vented himself from exploding. 
 
First Thoughts are Not ahvays^ Best. 245 
 
 " Yes/' she replied, in a perfectly simple 
 and unhesitating fashion, just as if it was 
 the most natural and matter-of-fact thing 
 imaginable. 
 
 " I wonder Avhat I can have done to merit 
 your disapproval T said Harold, his merry 
 eyes regarding her with pretended anxiety. 
 
 '' I was very angry with you at first," she 
 condescended to explain, '' but I don't mind 
 it quite so much now ;" nodding her head 
 gleefully at me, as if to remind me of the 
 little secret I had told her. 
 
 '' Angry with me ?" repeated Harold, with 
 an injured-innocence air. 
 
 ^' Yes ; I thought it was so horrid of you 
 to take Charlie away from me," she frankly 
 proceeded. 
 
 '^ My dear Laura," once more commenced 
 Mr. Vaughan. 
 
 '' Well, papa, it's true," she stoutly 
 maintained ; "■ I did think it horrid, and 
 mean, and selfish." 
 
 '' Oh, Miss Yaughan, pray spare me !'^ 
 cried her intensely amused auditor; "I had 
 no idea I was such a dreadful character." 
 
 ** I am not Miss Yaughan," she replied, 
 with seeming irrelevance ; " my aunt is Miss 
 
^46 Charlie. 
 
 Vaughan — I am called Laura by my friends, 
 and Miss Lam-a by the servants and poor 
 people." 
 
 *' And is there any particular name by 
 which you would wish your enemies to call 
 you ?" demanded Harold, with much demure- 
 ness. 
 
 "Why, I haven't any enemies," she 
 replied, glancing at him in amazement ; 
 ^^ unless," she added, as she noticed the 
 mischievous expression of his face, ^' you 
 mean yourself" 
 
 " Oh no, I am of too forgiving a spirit, I 
 am thankful to say, to wish to harbour 
 resentment against you for forming such an 
 unfavourable opinion of me." 
 
 "But I don t think quite so bad of you 
 now," she condescendingly volunteered to 
 assure him ; " you seem to be a good- 
 natured kind of a boy ;" eyeing him rather 
 superciliously, " and if you are too stupid to 
 amuse yourself, of course, you could not help 
 wanting poor Charlie to do it for you." 
 
 " Worse and worse, Harold," laughed Mr. 
 Whit worth. '' I hope by this time you are 
 properly impressed with a sense of your 
 deficiencies." 
 
First Thoughts are Not alivaiis Best. 247 
 
 '^ Yes, I shall soon have to hide my 
 diminished head," he observed, with an 
 expression of the most ludicrous conster- 
 nation ; " I scarcely know which I appreciate 
 the most, her indignation at my supposed 
 ^ badness/ or the contemptuous j)ity with 
 which she alludes to my ' stupidity.' " 
 
 " I hope you will not allow yourself to be 
 in the slightest degree annoyed at my little 
 girl's apparent rudeness," observed Mr. 
 Vaughan, in a courteous and gentlemanly 
 tone, ^^ as I can assure you " 
 
 '* There is no need to apologise," quickly 
 interrupted Mr. Whitworth ; ^^ Harold quite 
 understands !" turning inquiringly round 
 upon him. 
 
 " Perfectly," he answered, with a pleasant 
 smile. 
 
 ^' Was I rude, Charlie '?" demanded the 
 young lady rather anxiously ; she happened 
 to be sitting next me. 
 
 " Not at all," I promptly replied ; '' you 
 only made a little mistake, as Harold, is by 
 no means stupid, and it was his father, not 
 himself, who first asked me to go home with 
 him." 
 
 ** Doesn't he reallv want vou at all, then V^ 
 
248 Charlie. 
 
 she asked, with a little pucker of per- 
 plexity. 
 
 " Indeed I do," quickly exclaimed Harold ; 
 ^^but it's not because I expect him to furnish 
 me with a constant fund of amusement, as 
 you seem to imagine, but rather that he may 
 bestow on me a portion of his own natural 
 gravity ; for, between ourselves," turning to 
 her with a little confidential movement of 
 the head, while he purposely dropped his 
 voice, as if not wishing us to hear the drift 
 of this last remark, " lue have been in the 
 habit of fanc^dng that he was, if anything, 
 too sober and solemn in his manner ; about 
 the very last person, in short, to wish to 
 associate with because of his liveliness. We 
 may be mistaken, you know," he went on, 
 with feigned humility, " and what we call 
 gravity may be neither more nor less than 
 the essence of cheerfulness, and he himself 
 the most amusing of companions." 
 
 '' Of course he is," was the unhesitating 
 declaration ; ^^ he alivaijs amuses me." 
 
 " But I thought it was only stupid people 
 who required to he amused," laughingly 
 objected the incorrigible Harold. 
 
 '' Yes, but boys and girls are so different," 
 
First TJioughts are Not always Best. 249 
 
 she explained, in tones of the most sub- 
 lime disdain ; '' boys ought never to be 
 dull." 
 
 " Oh, I see ;" and Harold's mirthful 
 countenance was a study, as, after tm^ning to 
 answer some question suddenly propounded 
 to him by Mr. Whit worth, he rose from his 
 seat, and held out his hand to the plain- 
 spoken young lady, whom Mrs. May was 
 just carrying off to her own room for the 
 purpose of putting on her things, saying, 
 with the greatest gravity : 
 
 " I must bid you good-bye now, I fear, as 
 I'm obliged to hurry off to the post- 
 office." 
 
 '^ Good-bye," she graciously responded ; 
 '^ I hope you'll enjoy your holidays." This 
 polite little speech was evidently intended to 
 make up for her former uncomplimentary 
 comments. 
 
 " Thank you," he smilingly rejoined, '' I 
 hope I shall ; and perhaps," he added inter- 
 rogatively, ^^you may have a better opinion of 
 me when I come back 1" 
 
 A half shake of the golden head and a 
 silvery peal of laughter was the only reply 
 vouchsafed to this suggestion, and as the 
 
250 Charlie. 
 
 door closed upon her sylph-like form, I felt 
 somehow as if everything that had previously 
 made the room bright and attractive had 
 suddenly disappeared. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS AND ELECTROTYPBRS, GUILDFORD. 
 
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