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 A MINE OF WEALTH 
 
 VOL. I.
 
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 LONDON: HURST & BLACKETT, LIMITED.
 
 A MINE OF WEALTH 
 
 BY 
 
 ESME STUART 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 ' MARRIED TO ORDER,' ' A WOMAN OF FORTY,' 
 'KESTELL OF GREYSTONE,' ETC. 
 
 1 The faery power 
 Of unreflecting love.' 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1896. 
 
 All Rights Reserved.
 
 
 &ZS 
 
 A MINE OF WEALTH 
 
 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE WIDOW. 
 
 The evening light was fading when Mrs. 
 Beckloes folded up some work she was 
 doing for the poor, and came to warm her 
 feet by the bright fire which was lighting 
 up her small but pretty drawing-room. As 
 she stood thus close to the mantel-piece 
 mirror, she looked at herself with a quiet 
 scrutiny which denoted that she had a 
 purpose in her gaze. She saw before her a 
 : very pretty woman, though pretty was not 
 
 Tj VOL. I. B
 
 2 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 quite the right word to use about Lucy Bed- 
 does, for her good looks were of a high order. 
 If she was not beautiful as some understand 
 the expression, her face and her features 
 were very nearly perfect. Above all, she 
 belonged to a womanly type of woman- 
 hood, so that part of her charm lay in her 
 movements, in the softness of her voice, 
 in the slow lifting of her rather large and 
 drooping eyelids, in the whiteness and 
 shapeliness of her hands, in fact in all that 
 goes to make up a charming woman. But 
 there was an evident want of animation 
 about her, easily accounted for, however, 
 by the sight of a minute widow's cap. 
 This sign of mourning added to her 
 attraction, and also accounted for an oc- 
 casional dreamy manner apparent even in 
 the midst of such cheerful company as 
 Willington could produce. 
 
 The elite of this small country town had
 
 THE WIDOW. 3 
 
 taken great interest in Mrs. Beddoes when 
 she first came with her young daughter to 
 live amongst them. They looked out her late 
 husband in the Army list, and heard that 
 she was well born. They also found that 
 she had spent her married life in following 
 what is called c the tail of the army,' and 
 now that Captain Beddoes was dead she 
 had but a slender income and wished to live 
 quietly. Of course, they said, the widow 
 would marry again. A few affirmed that 
 she was a great flirt for all her quiet, gentle 
 ways, and that she was longing for a hus- 
 band, but though gossips talked, no one 
 could find out that Mrs. Beddoes ever 
 made a false step. She never received 
 gentlemen unless a well-recognized chap- 
 eron was with her, and she never missed a 
 Sunday service. 
 
 The tide of gossip then turned of its own 
 accord, and made Mrs. Beddoes into a saint. 
 
 b 2
 
 4 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 In five years she certainly could have 
 found somebody to marry had she so 
 wished ; that she had not done so proved 
 her right to be canonized. Woodbine 
 Villa became the favourite resting-place of 
 the vicar and of his curates, and, what was 
 still more meritorious, Mrs. Beddoes be- 
 came the friend of the vicar's wife and the 
 sweet counsellor of all the curates who had 
 love affairs. 
 
 Two astute ladies once remarked that 
 c Mrs. Beddoes was very sweet and gentle, 
 but that she was very hard to know.' 
 ' You never got further with her,' as they 
 expressed it, and i considering that she had 
 only one child it was strange that the girl 
 was so little with her mother.' For their 
 pains, however, the rest of the Willing- 
 tonians called them c uncharitable,' and 
 Mrs. Beddoes, soon after the enunciation of 
 their suspicious remarks, heaped coals of
 
 THE WIDOW. 5 
 
 fire upon their heads by coming to nurse 
 the younger sister through an attack of 
 low fever. After this the elder made 
 amende honorable by confessing to her 
 benefactor the disparaging remarks she 
 had once pronounced against her. 
 
 c As to Sara, I know appearances are 
 against me,' said Mrs. Beddoes, lifting her 
 drooping lids. ' You were quite right to 
 think so ; I wonder everybody doesn't say 
 it, but I don't want to sadden the child's 
 young life with the shadow of my sorrow. 
 She is so high-spirited, so young, and she 
 loves the country and her uncle's house 
 so much. Also she is devoted to her 
 cousins, and with me the child is so lonely. 
 I always felt that I must not be a selfish 
 mother. I knew what the world would 
 say of me, but ' 
 
 4 But you are a saint,' exclaimed Miss 
 Woolley. ' I know it now. 1
 
 6 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 In this way Mrs. Bedcloes's last enemy 
 was conquered. People in their senses 
 could not believe that anyone would sit up 
 for six nights running simply for effect. 
 
 This evening, just as Mrs. Beddoes had 
 once more ascertained from the evidence 
 of the looking-glass that she was still 
 pretty and still young-looking, that her 
 figure was still slight and that her hair 
 was not grey, and lastly that her blue 
 eyes still looked most bewitching in their 
 softness, the door-bell rang. 
 
 A slightly hard yet expectant look suc- 
 ceeded the widow's smile as she awaited 
 the entrance of the maid. Her taper 
 fingers instinctively arranged her cap-pin, 
 and then smoothed down the long folds of 
 her black dress. On the card which was 
 brought in to her she read the name of 
 Profitt. It was unknown to her, and it 
 caused her a momentary frown trying to
 
 THE WIDOW. 7 
 
 recollect if she had ever met a gentleman 
 of that name. When her visitor entered, 
 she gave a mental start. Before her stood 
 a stout man with unmistakable signs of 
 the law surrounding his waistcoat and his 
 whiskers. Mrs. Becldoes cordially disliked 
 lawyers, but after bowing she politely 
 pointed to a seat, expecting to hear of 
 some forgotten debt left by her late hus- 
 band. Her eyes were slowly raised to Mr. 
 Profitt's face, and she said, softly, 
 
 c I do not think I have the pleasure of 
 knowing you.' 
 
 c No, madam ; but I have come on im- 
 portant business which ' 
 
 c Indeed, I know very little of business/ 
 
 Mr. Profitt spoke in small, thin tones 
 quite out of proportion with his ample 
 figure. 
 
 c You must often have needed counsel/ 
 he said.
 
 8 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes drooped her eyelids, 
 thinking, c Who is this man, and what 
 does he want?' 
 
 c I need it still.' 
 
 c My dear madam, if in the future I can 
 be of any service to you, or to your 
 daughter, I assure you that it will give 
 me the utmost pleasure to ' 
 
 1 Thank you.' She raised her eyes 
 quickly this time. c Are you bringing me 
 bad news ?' 
 
 1 Bad news ! Ah, ah !' said the tiny 
 voice boxed up in the large body. c No, 
 indeed, pray be reassured. Perhaps I 
 should have written to you, but in these 
 cases it is best to speak face to face with 
 your clients.' 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes thought, ' It is bad news, 
 and he wants to break it gently to me. 
 Horrid man !' 
 
 ' It is much better to speak face to face.
 
 THE WIDOW. 9 
 
 Thank you exceedingly for your con- 
 sideration.' She folded her hands, and 
 waited. 
 
 c I believe you have a daughter. Is she 
 here ?' 
 
 4 My daughter, Sara, is at school ; at 
 least, at this moment she is spending her 
 Easter holidays with her uncle in Shrop- 
 shire, but she is coining home to-day.' 
 
 ' How old is she ? Excuse my seeming 
 curiosity, but ' 
 
 L She is twenty ; at least, she is past 
 twenty. I wanted her to have the advan- 
 tage of a good education before she faced 
 the world. I am not rich, and Sara will 
 have to earn her own living. Has anyone 
 left me a legacy ?' The idea suddenly 
 entered her head, and for once Mrs. Bed- 
 does asked a direct question. 
 
 ' I am sorry to say no. For some un- 
 explained reason, the lawyer's letter I
 
 10 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 received informs me that you are passed 
 over, and that the . . . the legacy is set- 
 tled upon your daughter on the day that 
 she comes of age. I should like to see 
 her, because ' 
 
 A pink flush spread over the widow's 
 fair oval face. 
 
 ' Who has left Sara a legacy ?' she 
 said. 
 
 ' A certain Mr. Frank Ferrars.' 
 
 'My husband's cousin was a rolling 
 stone. I suppose he had not much money 
 to leave.' Mrs. Beddoes drew a sigh of re- 
 lief. Her thoughts had not turned at all 
 towards this unknown connection. 
 
 1 Yes, certainly a rolling stone, but the 
 strange part is that these rolling stones at 
 times, my dear madam, refuse to be ruled 
 by proverbs. Two years before his death 
 Mr. Ferrars w r as in Australia and had a 
 lucky chance.'
 
 THE WIDOW. 11 
 
 'Indeed?' said the widow, lifting her 
 eyes towards the lawyer's rubicund face. 
 
 Mr. Profitt fell a victim at once. Here 
 was a woman who was not in the least ex- 
 cited by the word fortune. 
 
 c Yes, Mr. Ferrars was on his last legs, 
 as people say, when really quite a roman- 
 tic episode befell him. His last penny was 
 already spent in tobacco as he was walking 
 with his rough but worthy friend, Jethro 
 Cobbin, discussing what could save them 
 from starvation, when he struck his mining 
 tool into the ground where the two had sat 
 down to smoke their last pipe — or so they 
 thought. Frank Ferrars was not a fool 
 though he had been unlucky, he knew the 
 colour of gold. He did not tell even his 
 friend, but he went to the nearest township, 
 borrowed money, and bought up the claim, 
 which no one wanted, and then made his
 
 12 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 friend a present of a third of the claim 
 and a third of the profits, of course on 
 certain conditions. Jethro Cobbin had 
 soon reason to bless his chum, and though 
 the news has only just reached England, 
 the partners had already made a large for- 
 tune. The excitement of wealth, however, 
 proved too great for your husband's rela- 
 tive, and he fell ill of brain-fever and died. 
 Strange, isn't it, that the gold killed 
 him?' 
 
 c How very foolish !' murmured the 
 young widow. 
 
 1 A rolling stone, you see, is hampered 
 by moss ! He died in Cobbin's arms, 
 making him promise to bring his will to 
 England and to see the girl to whom he 
 has left all his money and his claim. That 
 girl, I am glad to tell you, is your daughter, 
 Miss Sara Beddoes.' 
 
 'Why did he choose her?' asked the
 
 THE WIDOW. 13 
 
 widow. There was no sound of pleasure 
 in her voice. 
 
 c Why ? My dear madam, you must see 
 Mr. Cobbin yourself. A most interesting 
 man. A little rough, perhaps, but a true 
 friend to your daughter. He will explain 
 everything to you.' 
 
 1 Frank Ferrars only saw Sara once, ten 
 years ago.' 
 
 c So it seems, but he took a fancy to her. 
 She was, I believe, a pretty little girl. Is 
 she a pretty woman ? though I need hard- 
 ly ask that question when I am speaking 
 to her mother.' 
 
 fc And I am hardly the person to answer 
 that question,' said Mrs. Beddoes. ' People 
 consider her nice-looking. She is certain- 
 ly not a beauty.' 
 
 1 Admirable mother!' said the lawyer to 
 himself. Aloud he added, ' I am sorry 
 Miss Beddoes is not at home.'
 
 14 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c She is coming home this evening for a 
 night before returning to her school. She 
 is working for a scholarship. I told you 
 she was destined to teach.' 
 
 Mr. Profitt smiled, and waved his fat 
 hand deprecatingly at the bare notion of 
 teaching. 
 
 6 All that will be unnecessary. I must 
 tell you that there is mention of a hand- 
 some allowance for her present mainten- 
 ance, which will, of course, be paid over 
 to you.' 
 
 c I am to spend it as I think best ?' 
 
 ' Yes, of course, certainly. There is only 
 one trustee, this same Jethro Cobbin. 
 Rather a strange trustee for a pretty girl, 
 1 must say, still he means to leave all the 
 business details to me.' 
 
 The widow raised her eyes again to the 
 stout man's face. 
 
 ' Thank you, you are very kind. Will
 
 THE WIDOW. 15 
 
 you tell Sara this evening, or shall I ?' 
 
 1 Oh, you, of course, I leave it to you, 
 my dear madam, but I will call early to- 
 morrow before going back to town. I've 
 engaged a room at the hotel. Pretty 
 country this.' 
 
 ' Yes, beautiful country. Won't you 
 dine with us ?' but the lawyer excused 
 himself, dreading what a poor lady's idea 
 of a good dinner might be. 
 
 When Mrs. Beddoes was once more left- 
 alone, she stood for some time by the fire- 
 place motionless, except that occasionally 
 she glanced at the looking-glass. She was 
 naturally graceful, and when she stood or 
 moved, those whose tastes inclined towards 
 art, involuntarily thought c what a perfect 
 model she would make.' 
 
 ' Why did he pass me over V she said 
 at last, in a low tone. c It is ridiculous 
 that Sara should come in for all that
 
 16 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 money — Sara — and I am to be B^it 
 
 there is a year still before me, a year ! 
 One can do a good deal in a year. How 
 strange, how strange !' She sat down sud- 
 denly and clasped her hands. c I am free 
 from poverty now, free ! But Sara — who 
 
 understands nothing, who . . . who ' 
 
 She rose quickly again, a blush spread 
 over her face, a blush, the reason of which 
 was hidden in the depth of her soul. 
 1 Sara is not like her father, she is not sus- 
 picious. She will have plenty of suitors 
 now, and most likely she will throw her- 
 self away. I am too young to take the 
 second place. I have kept her away so 
 long from me, and now she must live here. 
 It is unjust, unfair, to have passed me 
 over. With that money I could have lived 
 my life again.' She stopped short, her 
 eyelids drooped, and an expression of 
 barely suppressed indignation made her
 
 THE WIDOW. 17 
 
 suddenly look ten years older. Once more 
 she went towards the looking-glass and 
 gazed at her face. Certainly she was very 
 pretty, a beauty which invariably attracted 
 men, it was so feminine, so gentle. Then 
 suddenly the soft colour rushed back again 
 to her face, and she knelt down upon the 
 hearth-rug. ' I hate her,' she said, c I hate 
 her, and I am her mother.' 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 18 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 Chapel Stagey lies embosomed in the 
 midst of fascinating scenery, and the hills 
 round about it effectually guard the village 
 from the wild, north winds. On one side 
 of the valley runs the chain of the High- 
 mynds, and on the other, two high hills rise 
 near each other, only separated by an up- 
 land road which winds for miles round 
 lonely and lovely coombs. On the summit 
 of the Highmynds you can walk for many 
 miles along a narrow table-land, from
 
 A SURPRISE. 19 
 
 which you can gaze at many and varied 
 visions of English and Welsh hills and far 
 distant plains. When weary of this, you 
 can turn aside, and on the left you may 
 descend one of the many winding coombs, 
 all more or less steep, and all beautiful, 
 yet each one possessing its own distinctive 
 beauty. By this means the traveller will 
 reach some lonely village nestling at the 
 entrance of these quaint valleys, or he can 
 follow one of the little streams as it circles 
 round the foot of the miniature spurs, till 
 at last, like its fellows, it guides him to the 
 main valley. 
 
 At Chapel Stacey, the Manor-House and 
 its farm-buildings form an oasis in the 
 midst of Lord Stretton's large property. 
 This nobleman owns miles and miles of 
 the beautiful country, and nearly half the 
 houses in Chapel Stacey belong to him. 
 That the Manor-House was the freehold 
 
 c 2
 
 20 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 property of Mr. Gwillian, and could not be 
 acquired from him, was a real sorrow to 
 the late Lord Stretton, though the Manor 
 is a mere toy estate compared with the 
 rest of the great man's possessions. 
 
 The house was quaint and old-fashioned. 
 Black timbers crossed the facade, and many 
 of them were richly carved. The rooms 
 were beautifully proportioned and pic- 
 turesque. The garden was a paradise of 
 natural beauty, and not far off was a small 
 hill, at the top of which the remains of an 
 ancient castle were still discernible. What 
 a happy playground for the children of 
 the Manor this had always been, and what 
 games Virginia and Herringham Gwillian 
 had enjoyed in the still perfect moat, es- 
 pecially when their cousin Sara was with 
 them. Sara was always the life of the 
 party ; at least, Herringham thought so. 
 But childhood had already passed away,
 
 A SURPRISE. 21 
 
 and of late years the old castle had been 
 forsaken by the young people for longer 
 expeditions over the breezy Highmynds. 
 Mr. Gwillian was poor, and farming did 
 not make him richer, but he was not given 
 to complaining, and his wife — ' Aunt Lil,' 
 as Sara called her — was the most hopeful 
 of living creatures. She was short and 
 stout, and saw the best side of everyone ; 
 indeed, she seldom saw any other. 
 
 ' Sara ! Sara !' she now called out, stand- 
 ing at the foot of the exquisitely-carved 
 oak stairs. c Come down, dearie, to your 
 lunch. Herringham says that you have 
 only half-an-hour before he takes you to 
 the station.' 
 
 It was Virginia who came in answer to 
 her mother's appeal. She was quiet, shy, 
 and somewhat sad-looking like her father, 
 but still possessing an innate sense of 
 humour which made her good company
 
 22 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 among her own people. She looked upon 
 Sara Beclcloes as her sister, and she had 
 often petitioned her cousin to come and 
 live altogether at the Manor, but Sara 
 always answered that her mother would 
 want her when her education was finished. 
 She adored her mother, and never ques- 
 tioned that all she did was entirely right. 
 
 c Sara is taking leave of Caradoc,' said 
 Virginia, smiling through her tears. 
 
 1 Poor Caradoc ! T believe he mopes when 
 Sara goes away.' 
 
 c We all do,' said Virginia. 
 
 Herrin^ham entered at this moment. 
 He was tall, dark, with a low, white brow. 
 He had no hair on his face, out of which 
 looked forth very sad eyes ; but, to coun- 
 teract this, he had a smile that gave the 
 lie to sadness. 
 
 1 Who mopes when Sara goes ?' he asked.
 
 A SURPRISE. 23 
 
 1 Caradoc. They are taking leave of 
 each other.' 
 
 Then there was heard the rustle of a 
 woman's dress, next the shuffle of four 
 determined terrier toes, lastly the door 
 burst open, and the two entered together. 
 At first sight, Sara quite bewildered a stran- 
 ger. Was she pretty or not pretty? was 
 her hair of a lovely colour, or too visibly 
 auburn? Were her eyes too pleading 
 and pathetic for the laughing dimples on 
 the bright cheeks, or was she altogether 
 merry-looking ? These questions could 
 not be answered all at once. 
 
 She was rather tall, her figure was per- 
 fect, and there was health and strength 
 visible in every movement. Sometimes 
 her face was just a nice-looking face, beau- 
 tified above its intrinsic merit by that coil 
 of gold-red hair ; but sometimes there was
 
 24 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 a world of tenderness in her eyes which 
 belied the youthful carelessness of the 
 rest of her features. At times her heart 
 seemed to flash into her eyes, and you felt 
 that this girl had depths not yet fully 
 revealed to herself or to others. 
 
 c Here we are, Aunt Lil. I think every 
 time it becomes worse.' 
 
 'What does, my dear?' 
 
 c Parting from Caradoc' 
 
 Sara laughed, but the look of the inner 
 feeling flashed for one moment into her 
 grey eyes, and told the listener that it was 
 not only Caradoc of which she spoke. 
 
 c What is the use of grinding away at 
 examination work?' said Herringham. 
 4 You are leaving the country just when 
 it's most lovely. Women were not made 
 to work their brains.' 
 
 4 I'll come again in the summer. You 
 see, one must grind to get a scholarship.
 
 A SURPRISE. 25 
 
 Mother says she can't afford a penny more 
 for my education.' 
 
 c Hang education !' said the young man. 
 'You are quite educated enough.' 
 
 1 If one goes in for the teaching profes- 
 sion, it's better to be thorough ; besides, 
 in these days it is a necessity.' 
 
 ' You won't like it,' put in Virginia. 
 
 1 Oh, I must. Mother won't hear of 
 anything else. I did suggest being a 
 milliner or a cook.' Sara was grave for 
 half a moment, then her bright smile re- 
 turned. c Bear me witness, I'll be a 
 merciful teacher.' 
 
 4 You had much better marry,' said Vir- 
 ginia, cutting the cake with a little savage 
 gesture. 
 
 Sara blushed suddenly, but no one saw 
 her discomfiture. 
 
 c Mother says penniless brides are myths 
 of the middle ages.'
 
 26 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 'What rot!' said Herringham, under his 
 breath. 
 
 c I've got a beautiful idea. I shall get 
 a first class in modern languages, then 
 shall try for a highly-paid post in a High 
 School, and then I shall make a home for 
 mother, where she can sit still and look 
 pretty. Do you know, Aunt Lil, that 
 every year she gets prettier?' 
 
 ' Here is your uncle, clear,' said Aunt 
 Lil, seeing her son's face darkening. 
 
 Herringham would never believe in his 
 aunt's perfection. Mr. Gwillian was a 
 very absent man, and even now it seemed 
 a surprise to him to see Sara standing 
 ready dressed for departure. 
 
 ' Ah ! good-bye, dear. Herringham will 
 see you to the station. How unlike your 
 mother you are growing. Tell her so 
 from me, and ask her if she ever means to 
 come here.'
 
 A SURPRISE. 27 
 
 ' I wish she would live here. That 
 would be perfect. Willington is neither 
 town nor country, but the vicar and the 
 curates and everybody love her so much 
 they won't let her go.' 
 
 ; So you go back to school to-morrow?' 
 
 c Yes. Oh, Uncle Tom, what should I 
 do without the clear Manor-House?' 
 
 Herringham's eyes beamed with delight, 
 but Sara had her back to him, and saw 
 nothing of it. 
 
 1 What should we do without you, 
 Sara ?' 
 
 The tall man stooped down, kissed her, 
 and then departed. He looked a little 
 troubled as he passed by his son. 
 
 c It's almost a pity she ever came here/ 
 he muttered to himself. ' We miss her 
 too much when she goes.' 
 
 Then came the final kiss for Virginia
 
 28 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 and Aunt Lil, not excluding Caradoc, and 
 then Herringham and Sara walked side 
 by side to the station, which was distant 
 only ten minutes from the Manor, but these 
 ten minutes were sacred to Herringham, if 
 quite ignored by Sara. 
 
 c I sometimes think I am too lively 
 for mother. But I do love my life, even 
 grinding at examinations has some charm. 
 If I can save her a little anxiety it will 
 all be easy. I shan't mind how hard I 
 work.' 
 
 4 You never think of yourself 
 
 'Oh! don't I?' 
 
 4 No, always of — your mother.' 
 
 Sara laughed. 
 
 ' Is that wrong?' 
 
 • Oh, no — of course not — but you forget 
 us.' 
 
 c Forget you ! Never ! Chapel Stacey 
 is just — just heaven. This isn't humbug.
 
 A SURPRISE. 29 
 
 I can't humbug people. In my future 
 profession ' 
 
 1 Which ?' 
 
 ' Teaching', of course, you stupid boy. 
 Well, even in that I see people humbugging 
 others.' 
 
 4 It's the way to get on.' 
 
 ' No, you don't believe that !' Suddenly 
 Sara raised her eyes and exclaimed, ' Is 
 that Mr. Osborne, Herrin^ham ?' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Herringham, curtly. 
 
 c He's coming to speak to us. He's going 
 back to Oxford, I suppose.' 
 
 4 1 dare sav.' 
 
 Percival Osborne was Lord Stretton's 
 only son, and he was the best type of a 
 frank, honest young Englishman. 
 
 1 How do you do, Miss Bedcloes ?' he 
 said, cordially, and looking at Sara's face 
 he thought her even prettier than he had 
 thought her before.
 
 30 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 They had met for the first time at a 
 County Hospital ball, and one evening had 
 done the mischief, at least on his side, he 
 thought. 
 
 'Are you going back to Oxford?' said 
 Sara, very simply. 
 
 ' Yes. — Are you going this way?' 
 
 ' No, I'm going to Wellington to-day and 
 then to London.' 
 
 c Oh ! It seems a shame to leave the 
 country, doesn't it ? I hope we shall 
 meet in the autumn. There's a reading- 
 party coming to Chapel Stacey. I've be- 
 spoken Lane's house for it.' 
 
 1 I shall be going to Girton, I hope. To 
 teach now-a-days one must have done all 
 sorts of things.' 
 
 c To teach ?' 
 
 Percival looked again at Sara, and the 
 idea of her doing anything but receive 
 admiration seemed preposterous.
 
 A SURPRISE. 31 
 
 ' Yes, I hope you see before you a future 
 head-mistress.' 
 4 Head-mistress of ahouse, Miss Beddoes ?' 
 4 A house ; no, of a High School !' and 
 Sara laughed heartily. 
 4 Oh ! Yes, of course.' 
 ' Sarah, your train is coming,' said Her- 
 ringham, and he walked off. 
 
 4 Good-bye, I'm so glad we met.' 
 Herringham's brow was very clouded. 
 4 What did that youug fool mean by talk- 
 ing to you, Sara?' 
 
 4 He wished to well, to be pleasant, 
 
 I suppose.' 
 
 ' Here is an empty carriage.' 
 4 Third-class, please, Herringham.' 
 c You ought not to travel third-class.' 
 c What a man's idea ! On the contrary, 
 it is much safer.' 
 4 Good-bye.' 
 They kissed. They had always done it,
 
 32 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 but now Herringham felt that the day was 
 consecrated. For many years he had done 
 it without thinking. 
 
 1 Sara.' 
 
 c Yes?' 
 
 ' Don't make plans about your mother. 
 She might not fall in with them.' 
 
 c You don't know her.' 
 
 L You'll come again as soon as ever you 
 can?' 
 
 c Of course. Shall I bring a reading- 
 party ?' and Sara laughed. 
 
 ' Hang the reading-parties.' 
 
 ' We have an Indian princess, you know. 
 She would turn your head.' 
 
 c Would she!' Herringham spoke scorn- 
 fully. Suddenly Sara was grave, her soul 
 was visible through her eyes. 
 
 c We're off, Herringham. Thank you for 
 all your goodness. You are a real . . . 
 real '
 
 A SURPRISE. 33 
 
 The train was moving. 
 
 ' What?' he said quickly, and much too 
 earnestly. 
 
 c A real brother.' 
 
 He walked home very slowly, for his 
 mind was filled with moody thoughts. 
 Sara seemed so much alive, so full of 
 energy, so eager to join in life's battle, and 
 once there he knew that she would drift 
 away from her old home, whilst he was 
 tied to this country life. His father could 
 not spare him, and he would become more 
 and more the country farmer, the man who 
 could not leave home often, and who must 
 wait on nature's moods. Herringham knew 
 that it would be better for all of them if 
 the old home were sold. They could only 
 just keep their heads above water, but not 
 for one moment would his father agree to 
 this. If the Manor-House were put up to 
 auction, Lord Stretton would buy it, and if 
 vol. i. r>
 
 34 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 his father had one strong passion it was a 
 determination that his land should never 
 be possessed by his rich neighbour, whose 
 father had long ago made an offer for it. 
 No, Herringham was tied to the land quite 
 as much as were the ancient serfs, and he 
 would never be able to follow Sara. Did 
 she even know he loved her ? He had 
 never breathed a word of it, and she always 
 treated him as a brother. 
 
 That same evening the drawing-room of 
 the little villa at Willington was lighted up 
 with a shaded lamp. A fire burnt bright- 
 ly in the grate when the door was flung 
 open, and in a moment Sara had her arms 
 round her mother's neck. 
 
 1 Mother ! It is delightful ! How are 
 you ? You don't look well. I've got heaps 
 of messages for you. Uncle Tom wonders 
 why you never come to your old home. 
 Aunt Lil and Virginia send their love, and
 
 A SURPRISE. 35 
 
 dear old Herringham is* getting quite a 
 farmer, and talks learnedly about the ro- 
 tation of crops.' 
 
 S ara's eyes were full of softness now, 
 and her tall figure and bright hair made 
 light to the room. Her voice was so true 
 and sounded so musical that a stranger 
 must have thought that any mother would 
 have been made glad by hearing it. Mrs. 
 Beddoes disengaged herself very gently, 
 however, so that Sara hardly felt the 
 effort. 
 
 ' Tea is coming in, Sara. Are you 
 cold?' 
 
 Sara had never known her mother 
 effusive. She therefore expected no great 
 outward sign of affection though she her- 
 self gave so much. In her own mind she 
 put down her mother's extraordinary calm- 
 ness to heroically suppressed grief. Sor- 
 row had crushed her mother's spirit, and 
 
 d 2
 
 36 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Sara nursed the belief that when all 
 anxiety was over she would be bright and 
 demonstrative. At least, she hardly ex- 
 pressed this in words, but such was her 
 undefined feeling about it. 
 
 c So you have enjoyed your holidays ?' 
 ' Immensely. I always do at the Manor. 
 If you were there it would be perfect.' 
 
 c I dislike visiting old scenes. 
 
 c I know, and of course it would be pain- 
 ful to you, mother dear. You were happy 
 there as a girl, weren't you ?' 
 
 c All girls are happy till they know real 
 life.' 
 
 c Well, I hope I shan't know it for a long 
 time.' 
 
 c Did you work ?' 
 
 c Yes, indeed. Every morning I read 
 for three hours, and in the evening I tried 
 to read, but Herringham is crazy about 
 music. I had to sin^ a 2reat deal.'
 
 A SURPRISE. 37 
 
 There was a pause, the widow looked 
 thoughtfully into the fire and tried to frame 
 her next sentence according to her liking, 
 but she could not do so. 
 
 Sara got up and looked round the 
 room. 
 
 c You have changed nothing, mother. 
 There is your dear picture taken when you 
 were just the age that I am now. How 
 very, very pretty it is ! I shall never be 
 taken for your daughter, though on the 
 whole I think you are even prettier now.' 
 
 Mrs. Becldoes did not answer. Sara 
 looked round to see the reason. Her 
 hands were clasped, and she seemed not 
 to have heard her last remark. Sara moved 
 a few steps nearer. 
 
 ' Mother, what is the matter?' 
 
 ' Are you very anxious to go to college, 
 Sara ?' 
 
 ; Anxious ! Of course I am, as it is
 
 38 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 quite necessary for my future plans. I 
 shall get a good post, and then you can live 
 with me and never bother about money. 
 It will be so charming, and when we get 
 our holidays we shall go to the Manor 
 together. That will be delightful ! All 
 these years you have been working for 
 me, and deprived yourself of many nice 
 things for my sake, and now I am longing 
 to work for you.' 
 
 c Ah !' Mrs. Beddoes gave a little 
 sigh. 
 
 c Do you remember how idle I was at 
 school ; you wrote and told me that unless 
 I worked hard, I should never be able to 
 keep myself. That cured me of idleness. 
 I realized then that we were poor and that 
 you were suffering for me. Mother, child- 
 ren are selfish wretches.' 
 
 c Something has happened, Sara, which 
 will end that long struggle.'
 
 A SURPRISE. 89 
 
 4 What is it?' 
 
 Sara knelt by the fire-place, and the 
 bright fire-light fell on her hair, imparting 
 a golden hue to the auburn. Child-love 
 filled her eyes, and the colour flushed all 
 over her bright face. 
 
 ' You are past twenty, Sara. It is 
 time you knew a little of our history, 
 but you are still very young for your 
 
 age. 
 
 ' Yes, I suppose I am. Life is so de- 
 lightful and ' 
 
 ' I was very young when I married your 
 father. I believed he was well off, but I 
 was mistaken.' 
 
 ' Poor, dear, little mother.' 
 
 Sara put an arm round her mother's 
 waist. 
 
 c When he died he left me his debts, 
 and I have been struggling to pay 
 them.'
 
 40 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 1 How good of you ! But one would 
 do anything for those we have loved.' 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes lifted her eyes for one 
 moment to the bright, loving face beside 
 her. Then gently and in the same tone 
 of voice she said, 
 
 c I had never loved him.' 
 
 c Oh, mother !' Sara's face was almost 
 changed. She had never thought such a 
 thing possible. 
 
 1 Yes, I was made to accept a man I did 
 not love because I loved a man I was not 
 allowed to marry.' 
 
 * Was grandpapa so cruel?' 
 
 ' He was a tyrant, we were both afraid 
 of him, but he was influenced by others, 
 and I — I never forgave him.' 
 
 ' But the man — the man you loved, why 
 
 didn't he ' 
 
 ' He was young, and he was ruled by 
 his mother. He could not be firm. It
 
 A SURPRISE. 41 
 
 was only when I heard of his engagement 
 that I gave in.' 
 
 1 How dreadful ! Mother, I shall make 
 up to you for all your pain.' 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes, without moving her head, 
 looked sideways at the girl. Then she 
 smiled, and Sara never guessed what that 
 smile meant. 
 
 c Have you seen him since ?' added 
 Sara, hardly knowing what to say, and full 
 of strange new thoughts. 
 
 4 Never.' Then, as if to herself, she 
 added, c We were poor. My father could 
 give me no money, and my lover's 
 mother settled that he was to marry an 
 heiress.' 
 
 c He wasn't worthy of you !' said Sara, 
 laying her cheek against her mother's 
 breast. 
 
 ' No, but I loved him, and — and — I 
 hated everyone else.'
 
 42 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 There was silence in the room, a tragedy 
 seemed to fold its shadow round Sara's 
 pure mind. Two tears fell slowly down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 c Is she — is that other woman alive ?' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' And has he been happy ? I am sure 
 he has not.' 
 
 c No, he has not been happy. He could 
 not be.' She said the last words in a low, 
 hard voice. 
 
 c Oh, mother !' 
 
 ' That was not what I wished to tell 
 you, Sara. Something has happened which 
 will change your life. Mine was ended 
 years ago.' 
 
 c No, no. You are so young, you look 
 hardly older than I do, mother, and you 
 have me. Oh, we have each other ; you 
 will be happy yet.' 
 
 c Happy !'
 
 A SURPRISE. 43 
 
 c Yes, we shall live together, and I will 
 work for you, and I shall never marry 
 unless — unless my husband loves you 
 as much as I do. He shall be your son — 
 but I would rather not marry, I will have 
 you all to myself, and you will forget the 
 past.' 
 
 ' Forget !' Mrs. Beddoes smiled scorn- 
 fully, but the dimness hid her smiles, as 
 she added, c Yes, we must live together, 
 Sara, in future, but you need not work 
 for me. Something has happened which 
 takes away that necessity.' 
 
 c What is it ?' 
 
 ' Your father's cousin has left you his 
 money.' 
 
 6 Cousin Frank Ferrars ! I remember 
 him when I was a little girl, and he was 
 always poor and always making, or going 
 to make, wonderful discoveries which you 
 laughed at.'
 
 44 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ' He made one at last. By chance he 
 discovered a gold-field, and he has left 
 you his claim.' 
 
 ' To me ! But is it much ? Gold-fields 
 don't seem to make people rich.' 
 
 ' I don't know ; but Mr. Profits the 
 lawyer, says you will be rich, very rich, 
 when you come of age.' 
 
 c Oh, mother !' said Sara, ' and I was so 
 happy in making day-dreams for you, 
 and now they are useless.' 
 
 She hid her face on her mother's 
 shoulder, and a little sob was heard.
 
 45 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 sara's guardian. 
 
 Jethro Cobbin could not be called a 
 gentleman in the usual sense of the word. 
 Though at this moment his clothes were 
 of the very best make and of the best 
 material, they refused to fit him, and, 
 though he had bought some expensive 
 gloves, they too refused to fit, so he could 
 only manage to hold them very tightly in 
 one hand all the time he spoke to Sara. 
 In a fit of shyness he had hidden his hat 
 behind his chair, but he felt very consci-
 
 46 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ous of its presence till Sara's sudden smile 
 made him forget everything except the 
 fact that he was the legal guardian of this 
 charming oirl. 
 
 Sara's beauty was by no means of a per- 
 fect type ; no feature was perfect in itself, 
 but the shape of the head and the way it 
 was set on her rounded neck helped to 
 deceive strangers. What was really beau- 
 tiful in her was her expression, and the 
 glow of life and kindliness she seemed to 
 diffuse around her. A casual observer 
 felt at once that here was a girl who knew 
 nothing bad of life, whose pure nature 
 might be trusted to turn all that was dross 
 into gold, and that, for some mysterious 
 reason, evil could not approach her. 
 
 Jethro Cobbin, himself one of nature's 
 gentlemen, was at once fascinated by this 
 mysterious influence, and by the sunshine 
 of the girl's unsullied nature.
 
 sara's guardian. 47 
 
 c Tell me about my cousin,' she said, 
 sitting clown near this new guardian. Her 
 mother had gone out on some l errand of 
 mercy,' as the vicar called even Mrs. 
 Beddoes's simplest walks. 
 
 ' He was a man in a thousand, Miss 
 Beddoes, he was indeed ; but, unfortu- 
 nately, just one that seemed cursed with 
 ill-luck. Whatever he took up was sure 
 to fail. His friends found it out, then the 
 men he employed fought shy of him, till 
 at last there was hardly anyone that would 
 chum with him. "He's bad luck in per- 
 son," they would say, and so he was. I 
 was one of some half-dozen men he once 
 picked out to go and work a claim he had 
 prospected. He was that eloquent and 
 that clever at words that he took us all in. 
 Well, as usual, it all came to nothing. 
 The claim was worthless, and he just 
 cleared himself out. The men grumbled
 
 48 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 mightily and deserted, but I couldn't leave 
 him. We had somehow become churns, 
 and I saw that he was ill, and so I just 
 threw ideas of luck to the winds, and I 
 stack to him. He couldn't put up with 
 things as well as I could. You see, he 
 was born and bred a gentleman, and I 
 wasn't/ 
 
 4 Oh, but you are something better,' said 
 Sara, holding out her hand. 'You didn't 
 forsake him.' 
 
 Jethro blushed like a girl to hear this 
 beautiful creature praising him ; her voice 
 too reminded him of poor Ferrars's hopeful 
 speeches. 
 
 ' Well, anyhow I stuck on, but we were 
 very hard put to it, I can tell you. Wes- 
 tern Australia isn't like some of the old 
 colonies, but he was always so hopeful. 
 I hadn't an ounce of faith in him, that's 
 true, but I saw that he wasn't strong
 
 s aba's guardian. 49 
 
 enough to rouodi it alone, so we joshed on 
 together.' 
 
 c I hope you'll stick on to me,' said Sara, 
 suddenly laughing. c I feel so lost, now I 
 have to think about money.' 
 
 c I should rather think I would,' said 
 Jethro, colouring again, ' though of course 
 now you'll be a very grand lady, Miss 
 Bedcloes.' 
 
 8 Oh no, no ! I can't be that. I've al- 
 ways been poor — though I have been very 
 happy. But tell me about Cousin Frank 
 after the great discovery.' 
 
 'He kept it to himself for a few days, 
 and we went to Perth, and then he said, 
 " Jethro, 1 must borrow enough to buy up 
 another claim." " No," I said. " You'll 
 do no such thing. You're deep in debt 
 as it is." " I'll succeed yet, Jethro, I 
 promise you this time." Well, I gave 
 in, and I went and sold all that I could 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 lay hands on, and gave my name for what 
 it was worth, because I saw he was ill 
 and that he was bent on this thing. I 
 thought, of course, it was only just his 
 last piece of ill-luck, but I didn't like to 
 go against him. Somehow we got the 
 money together and bought the land. 
 No one believed in gold there, and we got 
 it cheap. When we had pegged out the 
 claim and got up a few men, then one 
 night he told me. "Jethro," he said, 
 " luck's turned at last, and look here, 
 my friend," — he said this just like that — 
 " you're the only one 'that has ever 
 stuck by me, and you shall have a third 
 for your very own. Your very own, mind, 
 Jethro, and I'll pay all you've lent me 
 back. If I've been unlucky, I'm honest, 
 I'll pay back everything." Well, he 
 brought the deeds and got a lawyer and 
 made it all fast before the truth burst
 
 sara's guardian. 51 
 
 upon me. The poor fellow's luck had 
 turned ! He had hit upon a rich field. 
 How he lived during the next two years 
 I don't know. It was the excitement that 
 kept body and soul together, and per- 
 haps a bit of my care into the bargain. 
 He paid all his debts and gave large in- 
 terest too, and then he began putting by. 
 But I saw, all the time, he couldn't live 
 long, so I said one day, " Look here, 
 Ferrars, if I was you I'd make my will, 
 or by-and-by there'll be a precious piece 
 of business over this property. You'll 
 have a crowd of relations claiming this 
 little hoard, and the lawyers '11 swallow 
 it up;" — for you know, Miss Sara, that 
 lawyers have digestions like ostriches. 
 " Well," said he, "so I will, though I 
 mean to live some time longer and enjoy 
 my luck. I'll leave it all to a little girl 
 with red hair, just like beech leaves in 
 
 e 2 
 
 I IRRflRY
 
 52 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 autumn." So he did, and we often talked 
 together of the little girl with hair like 
 beech leaves. Well, the end came at last. 
 He just fell down one day and died in an 
 hour, and the doctor said his life for a 
 year past had been a miracle. He had 
 made me guardian, you know, and that's 
 why I'm here. He told me once I was 
 to go to Mr. Profitt and he'd pull me 
 through ; and here I am, and I'm sure it's 
 an honour, Miss Sara, for me, for I'm 
 only a rough sort of man, and I owe all 
 my fortune to your cousin, and if there's 
 anything I can do for you, I will.' 
 
 Jethro had been through with his 
 speech, and now felt more at his ease. 
 Sara laughed. She had cried about being 
 rich, but now there had come a sudden 
 revulsion, and she was making new day- 
 dreams about all the people she would 
 help, and how she would act in a year's
 
 sara's guardian. 53 
 
 time when she should be free to do as she 
 liked. 
 
 c You are going to let my mother spend 
 the money this year for me and for her. You 
 don't know how happy I am to think she 
 won't have to deprive herself any more for 
 me,' said Sara. 
 
 c Yes, she'll spend it for you this year, 
 but after that I'm your guardian. You'll 
 come to me if you want anything, won't 
 you, Miss Sara ?' 
 
 ' Of course.' 
 
 c I'm a plain man, and I've got more 
 than enough money myself. Indeed, I've 
 come to hunt up some of my own people, 
 if so be I can find them. They've for- 
 gotten me long ago. They'll be surprised, 
 but I'm going to look round and see 
 first. Here's just a little pocket-money 
 to begin with, Miss Sara, advanced from 
 your own money.' He held out a very
 
 54 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 new, large yellow purse, which that very 
 morning he had chosen at Willington. 
 1 It's a hundred pounds, just a little to 
 teach you how to spend it, and there's 
 more where that comes from.' 
 
 c A hundred pounds ! I never had so 
 much in mv life ' cried Sara, and Jethro 
 Cobbin laughed. 
 
 4 That's nothing. You know luck did 
 turn with a vengeance There's some 
 goo dish thousands for you when you're 
 of age.' 
 
 Jethro Cobbin was not a gentleman, and 
 his hands were rough, but Sara felt she 
 had in him a friend worth more than all 
 the money she was to have. 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Cobbin, I don't wonder Cousin 
 Frank trusted you.' 
 
 ' Just call me plain Jethro, will you 
 now, Miss Sara ? I can't fit myself on 
 to a Mr. Cobbin.'
 
 saka's guardian. 55 
 
 6 I'll call you guardian,' said Sara, who 
 really could not bring herself to call him 
 by his Christian name. ' That's a delight- 
 ful name. One feels safe with it, you see. 
 There is mother coming in. She can't 
 realize it yet, I am sure, but I wish Cousin 
 Frank had left her the money instead of 
 leaving it to me.' 
 
 Jethro Cobbin looked very much fright- 
 ened at the idea of seeing Mrs. Bedcloes 
 again. She had not made him feel at his 
 ease, and, besides, he remembered remarks 
 Ferrars had let fall about her ; so he 
 hastily took his leave, for he was going to 
 dine with Mr. Profitt before taking the 
 evening train back to town. 
 
 c I have seen Mr. Profitt, Sara,' said 
 Mrs. Beddoes, slowly, c and he has settled 
 everything. We are to live in London this 
 year, and you are at once to be introduced 
 into London society. It seems that that
 
 56 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 strange man thinks London the only place 
 fit for an heiress.' 
 
 ' But you, mother, — what do you think of 
 it?' 
 
 1 I shall be glad to leave Willington,' 
 she said, carelessly. 
 
 c Shall you ? Then that is all right. 
 How strange it is that now I feel almost 
 sorry to be leaving my school life, and yet 
 I had really rather dreaded it, though I 
 made Mr. Osborne believe that Iwasgoins: 
 to enjoy it immensely.' 
 
 ' Mr. Osborne ! Of whom are you talk- 
 ing?' Mrs. Beddoes lifted her eyelids. 
 
 ; Lord Stretton's son, you know, mother. 
 Herringham does not like him, because he 
 is prejudiced.' 
 
 ' Does he come to the Manor now ?' 
 
 c Now ? He never did. Lncle Tom does 
 not like Lord Stretton, I don't know 
 why.'
 
 sara's guardian. 57 
 
 4 Tom never did.' 
 
 1 Did you know him then when you were 
 young ? The family never come to Chapel 
 Stacey church. Virginia says it's hard on 
 the poor folk, because they used to curt- 
 sey to his seat when they came in, and 
 then they went on doing it when it was 
 empty.' 
 
 4 Virginia has grown sarcastic, has 
 she?' 
 
 c Well, no, not exactly. She is rather 
 clever, but she looks so gentle that people 
 don't find it out. Mother, my guardian is 
 delightful. He is so — so straight-forward. 
 Cousin Frank knew it, I expect. I couldn't 
 trust him with anything, and look what he 
 has given me.' 
 
 Sara spread out the two notes of fifty 
 pounds each. The widow's colour rose a 
 little as she touched them. 
 
 1 I thought all the money was to come
 
 58 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 through Mr. Profitt. I am to have a very 
 generous allowance this year.' 
 
 c Guardian said this was advanced from 
 my money. I am glad; I want to buy 
 something beautiful for you, dear mother, 
 and something for the dear folks at the 
 Manor.' 
 
 Sara disappeared to fetch her writing 
 things, and Mrs. Beddoes sat down with 
 the two notes on her lap. Now and then 
 she touched them; then she blushed as she 
 put them on the table and said to herself, 
 
 ; It has all come too late. I wonder 
 what Percival Osborne is like ? Strange 
 he should have noticed Sara. If only that 
 queer man does not choose a house in some 
 ridiculous part of London, I can do some- 
 thing in a year. Grateful ! I am not 
 grateful. It was pure spite of Frank 
 Ferrars to pass me over. Why should his 
 child have everything — everything V
 
 sara's guardian. 59 
 
 4 Look here, mother,' exclaimed Sara, re- 
 turning, c I think I am foolish to give up 
 all my prospects of a college education . 
 Suppose all this fairy gold disappears?' 
 
 ' It is quite safe at present, and Mr. 
 Cobbin has promised to see to the future.' 
 
 L Isn't it fun to have a guardian like that I 
 He is quite an original character, and he 
 will take a ^reat interest in our London 
 life.' 
 
 1 He had much better return to Western 
 Australia. We do not want him. I shall 
 renew my friendship with old friends in 
 town.' 
 
 c It is very nice to be rich, only it is 
 at present almost too much of a surprise.' 
 
 ' When I was your age I meant to 
 be rich, and I have been poor all my 
 life.' 
 
 Sara knelt by her mother and put her 
 arms round her waist.
 
 60 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c And you have not been happy ! Poor 
 little mother! Do you know my mission 
 this year will be to make you understand 
 happiness, and you must help me and 
 teach me how to do it.' 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes looked up slowly at the 
 girl beside her, at the handsome young 
 creature who was so full of life and so 
 full of happiness, but her heart seemed 
 only to beat to a feeling of jealousy 
 which she could not control. The child 
 of that man was to have all that was s;ood 
 in life, whilst happiness had been denied 
 to her. His child seemed born under a 
 lucky star, full of love and brightness 
 and all that brings what is most worth 
 having in this world. His child was to 
 become rich at one bound without the 
 difficult question of marriage intervening, 
 and she, her mother, ought to be rejoic- 
 ing and helping forward this joy. In
 
 sara's guardian. 61 
 
 spite of this she could feel nothing but a 
 dull, stupid jealousy, a secret indignation 
 that fate had been hard on her and had 
 
 showered benefits on his child his 
 
 child, the child of the man she had 
 hated.
 
 62 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A LAST GIFT. 
 
 ' Come at once. Mother is ill. — Clarissa.' 
 That was Percival Osborne's greeting 
 one morning about a week after he 
 reached Oxford. He was reading one of 
 Horace's odes and scribbling down the 
 last verse in English when the telegram 
 was brought to him. 
 
 ' In troublous days show thyself brave ; 
 And wisely thou wilt never fail, 
 When blows the wind too prosperously, 
 To furl the sail.' 
 
 4 Very rough and common in English,'
 
 A LAST GIFT. 63 
 
 he was saying to himself, and then he 
 tore open the envelope. ' Hulloa ! I 
 think the sails look after themselves gen- 
 erally. I am afraid Clara means some- 
 thing serious, or she would not send for 
 me. 1 
 
 A few hours later the young man stood 
 on the doorstep of Stacey Hall, an old 
 Elizabethan house situated ten miles from 
 Chapel Stacey, and surrounded by a large 
 and very picturesque park and a beautiful 
 garden. It was a well-known fact that 
 the mansion had been restored by Lady 
 Stretton's money. She was an heiress, and 
 after her marriage her money had been 
 very freely spent on the old place. If 
 this were well known, there was yet 
 another open secret about her, — that she 
 was a woman of ungovernable temper. 
 The county openly discussed the family 
 quarrels in the household of Stacey Hall.
 
 64 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Lord Stretton was a man in the prime of 
 life, no one could see him without being 
 struck by his appearance, but there was a 
 look of acute suffering on his well-curved 
 mouth, and he had a slight frown which 
 was always noticeable. Everyone knew 
 that the household was divided against it- 
 self. The husband and wife for years 
 had barely condescended to speak to each 
 other, and yet no real scandal had ever 
 been able to delight the gossips which al- 
 ready surrounded the unhappy place. It 
 was known that Clarissa Osborne took her 
 mother's side, and that Percival avoided 
 home as much as possible. Still, a better 
 state of affairs alwa} r s reigned when he 
 was at Stacey, for he was beloved by both 
 parents, and because of this was often 
 the subject of their contentions. Lord 
 Stretton's affections, never given to his 
 wife, flowed abundantly towards his son.
 
 A LAST GIFT. 65 
 
 Clara would have come in for her share 
 had she allowed it, but her temper much 
 resembled, though in a lesser degree, that 
 of her mother, and she was always a 
 violent partisan. She was fond of her 
 mother, but chose to look upon her father 
 as a household tyrant. If this was not the 
 truth, there was yet some excuse for the 
 girl's intense feeling. Never had she seen 
 a sign of affection or a sign of feeling 
 exhibited by her father towards her 
 mother. 
 
 Lady Stretton suffered considerably at 
 times from weakness of the heart's action, 
 but she never complained, alleging that 
 she would get no sympathy from her 
 husband, and Clara, of course, believed 
 what she said. She was ignorant of the 
 scenes that in early years Lord Stretton 
 had gone through, nor did the girl realise 
 how absolutely a violent-tempered woman 
 
 VOL. i. f
 
 66 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 can kill love, even where love exists. 
 In this case, unfortunately, Lady Stretton 
 knew well enough that her husband had 
 never loved her, but she would not recall 
 that she had knowingly accepted her 
 position, and therefore that she had little 
 reason to rebel against it. On the other 
 hand, she loved her children devotedly, 
 though this did not prevent her from 
 making them suffer from her hasty tem- 
 per. Percival had found it far happier 
 for himself to spend much of his spare 
 time away from home. He went abroad 
 with tutors or schoolfellows, and later 
 on he read hard during vacation time. 
 He was now on the eve of taking his 
 degree, so that his time was precious. 
 
 His father met him on the top of the 
 flight of steps leading up to the hall 
 door.
 
 A LAST GIFT. 67 
 
 4 My dear boy ! How quickly you have 
 come. Clara telegraphed, I know.' 
 
 4 How is my mother?' said Percival, 
 quickly. 
 
 1 Your mother is a little quieter — I have 
 not seen her. She did not wish it, but she 
 is expecting you.' 
 
 Lord Stretton spoke as a man does 
 when talking of some one unconnected 
 with himself, and Percival felt pained. 
 
 Lady Stretton was decidedly better. 
 In the morning she had had a severe 
 heart attack, and the doctors had been 
 very uneasy. She was, they said, to see 
 no one but her son, which meant that 
 her ladyship had refused to see her 
 husband. 
 
 Percival knelt down by his mother's 
 side. She was propped up with pillows, 
 and looked deadly pale. Her face spoke 
 
 f2
 
 68 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 so plainly of bad temper, that it was 
 always with a certain undefined fear that 
 her son approached her, for he was never 
 certain at what moment the volcano of 
 her wrath might become active. 
 
 4 Mother, I'm so glad you are better.' 
 
 ' I'm easier. Clara telegraphed.' She 
 spoke slowly but distinctly. 
 
 Clara entered from the next room. The 
 brother and sister kissed each other, and 
 she said to herself, 
 
 1 He has never realised that mother's 
 life has been one long martyrdom.' 
 
 4 1 was so afraid you wouldn't come,' 
 she whispered. 
 
 c Not come ! Of course I came.' 
 
 c You are very busy just now, Percival, 
 I know. I am sorry to have to bring you 
 home,' said his mother, raising her suffer- 
 ing eyes towards his face. 
 
 4 Don't say that. Of course if you
 
 A LAST GIFT. 69 
 
 want me I should have come at any time.' 
 c There is no " of course " in life, as you 
 will find. Clara, leave us alone a little 
 while.' 
 
 Clara frowned, but left the room 
 thinking, 
 
 c Mother will make herself ill again talk- 
 ing to Percival.' 
 
 c Are we alone?' said Lady Stretton 
 impatiently, as the door closed. 
 
 Percival rose, tried the doors, and came 
 back to his mother's side. 
 c Yes, mother.' 
 
 c There's no hope for me, my boy, I 
 know it. The next attack must be fatal, 
 Percival.' 
 
 The young man became pale, for his 
 mother's voice was hard, almost fierce. 
 
 c Indeed you must not think so, mother. 
 You must get more advice. A London 
 man '
 
 70 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Lady Stretton laughed softly but scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 c I have had the best advice, of course, 
 and Seymour is clever, but it is hopeless. 
 Don't let us talk of that. Whilst I am 
 still able, I want to say something to you. 
 You have been a good son to me, Percival, 
 that is, as far as you could.' 
 
 Many short-comings flashed into his 
 mind. Often he had preferred absence 
 when he might have remained at home 
 to c make things better,' as he expressed 
 it to himself, but the strange, silent battle 
 between husband and wife had always 
 made Percival disinclined to do anything 
 but get out of sight of it. To pretend 
 ignorance of it was better than to blame 
 either parent, but this was the first time 
 his mother had alluded to the subject. 
 
 c I might have been more of a confort to 
 
 you.
 
 A LAST GIFT. 71 
 
 c Yes ; young people are thoughtless,' 
 she said, slowly and bitterly, c but Clara 
 has done all she could.' 
 
 Here a^ain Percival was silenced. He 
 had often thought to himself that Clara 
 really provided incessant fuel to the angry 
 flame. 
 
 1 But you can make some amends to me, 
 Percival, when I am gone.' 
 
 1 Amends !' Percival's brow became cold. 
 His youth seemed to be taking wings. 
 ' Mother ! how can I ? Don't talk like 
 that.' 
 
 w You can guard my memory !' 
 
 1 There is no need.' 
 
 ( Percival, you know nothing about it. 
 Your father loves you. Clara does not 
 get on with him ; but you, you can do any- 
 thing you like with him. Promise me 
 what I am going to ask of you,'
 
 72 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 4 Mother ! — Tell me — how can I promise 
 without knowing V 
 
 A slight flush spread over her face, 
 her brows contracted, and Percival was 
 frightened at his own rashness. Suppose 
 his words brought on another attack. 
 
 c Mother, don't misunderstand me. — 
 Isn't a mother's memory always sacred? 
 Hasn't the thought of you kept me out 
 of many scrapes. I remembered some little 
 remark of yours about man's selfishness, 
 or his weakness, and your words have 
 often kept me from temptation. You know 
 I would do anything, anything for you.' 
 
 1 Very well, prove it. — When I am dead, 
 Percival, take care of your father.' 
 
 Percival gave a slight start. The words 
 seemed so strange coming from his moth- 
 er's lips. He knew, as all knew, the bit- 
 ter feeling existing between husband and 
 wife, though he thought that the cause
 
 A LAST GIFT. 73 
 
 was only his mother's ungoverned temper. 
 He himself had often been pained by it. 
 It had shadowed — as much as was possible, 
 considering his youth and his good spirits 
 — his own life, and now she was asking 
 him to take care of the man she was sup- 
 posed to hate. 
 
 • You need not ask that, mother, I hope 
 I shall always be a good son to — to L my 
 father.' 
 
 She took no notice of his words, but con- 
 tinued, looking as if she were far away 
 beyond this life, 
 
 ' Make some sacrifice for him.' 
 
 ' I hope I shall not call my duty a 
 sacrifice, especially if you have asked it of 
 me.' 
 
 Lady Stretton closed her eyes a moment, 
 and reopened them on Percival. She 
 looked as only a dying woman can look at 
 her only son. She noticed the smooth brow
 
 74 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 over which dark brown, wavy hair fell, 
 now a little in disorder ; the honest, rather 
 deep-set eyes alternately grave and gay 
 and the straight nose and well-cut mouth, 
 simple in its curves and in its expression. 
 Percival was a son any mother would 
 be proud of. Lady Stretton stretched 
 out her white hand and laid it on his 
 hair. The touch seemed to restore some 
 of her energy. 
 
 ' Promise me that if — if I die you will 
 throw up your work, and that you will 
 immediately come and live with your 
 father.' 
 
 Percival loved his college and he loved 
 his work. He had spoken too soon when 
 he scorned the word sacrifice. 
 
 c I hope to take my degree as soon 
 as ' 
 
 Lady Stretton's face clouded over.
 
 A LAST GIFT. 75 
 
 Percival saw the angry sparkle he knew so 
 well when anything roused his mother's 
 temper, especially when it was something 
 his father had done to annoy her. Un- 
 consciously he shrunk away a little, and 
 then repented bitterly of this action. His 
 mother was dying, and yet he was repuls- 
 ing her. 
 
 c Very well, Percival. I see that your 
 fine words mean nothing.' 
 
 1 Mother !' 
 
 The word was spoken from the depth of 
 his wounded heart. 
 
 She half waved him away, but he 
 continued, 
 
 c Don't look like that, mother ; of course 
 I meant that I 1 would.' 
 
 Lady Stretton's expression calmed it- 
 self. 
 
 4 Thank you ; promise it, Percival.'
 
 76 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 8 I promise you, mother, that I will come 
 to my father and remain with him, unless, 
 of course, he objects.' 
 
 She made another impatient ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 8 He will object, of course. But you 
 must be true to me. You must not leave 
 him upon any excuse. Promise — your re- 
 fusal is making me worse.' 
 
 8 Mother, mother, I promise faithfully. 
 Pray, pray, don't distress yourself.' 
 
 There was [& moment's silence. The 
 dying woman — she knew she was dying — 
 appeared strangely satisfied, but still she 
 frowned. She had more to say. 
 
 8 Give me those drops, Percival.' He 
 obeyed, and poured them out as she 
 directed. 
 
 She revived a little. Great strength of 
 mind enabled her to keep up. 
 
 8 1 will tell you the reason. I can't ex-
 
 A LAST GIFT. 77 
 
 plain much — I can give you facts. Your 
 father has never loved me, but when I 
 married him I loved him passionately.' 
 
 Percival, knowing too well the life his 
 parents lived, wondered how it was that 
 his mother could say she had once loved. 
 If he loved once, then he could never, never 
 hate. 
 
 1 Isn't there some mistake ?' he said, 
 quickly, his youth seeming to fall away 
 from him now that he was brought 
 face to face with this dreadful sorrow. 
 c Is it too late to make up ? Father is not — 
 hard really. He has always been a kind 
 father. Oh, I believe that if — if you get 
 better I might do something, I might heal 
 some old sore that shouldn't exist. Let 
 me call him, even now.' 
 
 c Hush, silly boy. You know nothing 
 of life. A woman has ruined my life, 
 another woman. He has loved her al-
 
 78 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ways, always. He loves her now. I 
 thought that with my money and my 
 love — I did love him with all my soul — I 
 thought that I could conquer her. But I 
 never did. — My temper got the upper 
 hand, and then — then it was all up with 
 me — I knew it, I knew that I had ruined 
 my own chances with it, but I suffered so 
 much — so much, Percival. I am young 
 to die — I wanted so much to live, to keep 
 her away — and now, now I can't. He will 
 be glad of my death.' 
 
 4 No, no, no,' burst from Percival. 
 
 ' Hush ! — I know it all. He will turn 
 towards her and she will come to him. 
 She has been waiting for this always, al- 
 ways. Percival, you have promised to — 
 to keep her away.' 
 
 'Mother!' 
 
 The tragic, terrible earnestness of the 
 dying woman frightened Percival. It was
 
 A LAST GIFT. 79 
 
 as if a gulf opened before him and she 
 bade him look clown into it. All his 
 young enthusiasm for what was upright 
 and manly seemed to suffer from this 
 vision, and he felt as if he must get up 
 and rush away. 
 
 c You have promised your dying mother 
 to keep her away,' she repeated, slowly. 
 
 'But how? When? I am powerless — ■ 
 I don't know her. I don't believe in her 
 power. What is her name?' 
 
 Lady Stretton's white lips moved. She 
 tried to pronounce a name, but stopped 
 short. It seemed as if her throat could 
 not make the necessary sound. 
 
 ' If she conies you will know her, and 
 she will come] she stammered forth in her 
 agitation. 
 
 All at once Percival felt glad not to know. 
 He did not believe in this woman. If it 
 were true, and he did not doubt it — it all
 
 80 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 happened long ago. No one ever accused 
 his father of any wrong action. Lady 
 Stretton could never have sued for a 
 divorce, for no scandal had ever been so 
 much as hinted at as the cause of their 
 miserable life. 
 
 4 Calm yourself, mother. I have prom- 
 ised. You will make yourself worse ; let 
 me call Clara.' 
 
 1 Yes, call Clara. Stop, say it again, 
 Percival. You will prevent that woman 
 from being mistress here V 
 
 c All in my power ; I can say no more 
 than that.' 
 
 'If she came here I could not ' 
 
 Clara hurried in. 
 
 1 Percival, she mustn't talk like this. 
 Don't excite yourself, dear mother. Has 
 he done what you wanted?' 
 
 c Yes ; kiss me, Percival.' 
 
 The young man stooped down and
 
 A LAST GIFT. 81 
 
 kissed the white forehead, but suddenly a 
 feeling of revulsion took possession of 
 him. The hatred which had glowed like 
 a furnace fire in his mother's eyes seemed 
 to send a deadly chill through him. It 
 was as if her dying gift to him was a 
 gift of hatred. 
 
 vol. i.
 
 82 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AT THE END. 
 
 Lady Stretton revived that evening. Her 
 mind appeared easier, and the conversation 
 with her son seemed to have taken a 
 weight off her mind. Indeed, she declared 
 that Clara must leave her with her maid 
 to go down and dine with her brother. 
 
 In spite of state, servants, and wealth, 
 the dinner in the great dining-room was 
 always a chilly entertainment when the 
 mistress of the house was able to take her 
 place. AH his married life Lord Stretton had 
 been irritated by the feeling that he was in-
 
 AT THE END. 83 
 
 debted to the wife he had never loved for 
 his luxurious well-being. This feeling, 
 and others more to be respected, had kept 
 him blameless, but it had added several 
 deep furrows in his broad forehead. He 
 was of middle height, well made, hand- 
 some, and still in the prime of life : but shy 
 with strangers, though in appearance every 
 inch an English gentleman, a man who 
 might have done much more with his life 
 if he had not taken one fatal step, that of 
 a loveless marriage in youth. He had for- 
 saken the woman he loved for the woman 
 his mother bade him marry, and his sin 
 had brought its own tenfold punishment. 
 No need for the hand of God to fall heavier 
 upon him, the hand of woman had not 
 spared him. 
 
 Sometimes, however, when he looked at 
 Percival his heart warmed with new life. 
 Concerning his son, his pride could still 
 
 g2
 
 84 A MJNE OF WEALTH. 
 
 reassert itself, and he thought, c My boy 
 makes up for everything.' To-night, as he 
 passed into the dining-room, he placed 
 his hand on the young man's shoulder, 
 and said, as they followed Clara, 
 
 1 You have always been a good son to 
 her, Percival. I hear you have calmed her 
 mind.' 
 
 Percival felt an inward shiver as he re- 
 called the scene he had just gone 
 through. 
 
 4 She will get better, she will ' 
 
 c You must stay a few days if it is 
 possible, though I know you can ill spare 
 the time.' 
 
 The three men-servants began their 
 silent labours, so there could be no con- 
 fidential talk. Clara's dark, bad-tempered 
 face, though now and then relieved by a 
 wonderful smile, did not conduce to light 
 conversation.
 
 AT THE END. 85 
 
 ■ Mother will sleep to-night,' she said, 
 shortly. 
 
 ' I'm sure she will,' answered Percival, 
 his hopeful nature reasserting itself. 
 
 1 1 was looking at the county paper just 
 now,' said Clara, suddenly. c Percival, 
 don't you know the Gwillians of Chapel 
 Stacey ?' 
 
 ' Yes ; at least I have met Herringham 
 Gwillian often, and I know his father by 
 sight.' 
 
 c Well, a relation of theirs has just come 
 in for some money. It is quite a romance 
 — according to the papers, at least.' 
 
 c What relation ?' 
 
 ' A Miss SaraBeddoes.' 
 
 ' Bedcloes ?' said Lord Stretton, helping 
 himself to salt. 
 
 c It makes quite a sensational article. 
 Some one has left her a gold-mine.' 
 
 ' Some mines are scarcely profitable
 
 86 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 concerns,' remarked Lord Stretton, care- 
 lessly. 
 
 c This one must be : the paper says she 
 will be one of the richest heiresses in the 
 country.' 
 
 c What nonsense ! a mere tale,' answered 
 Lord Stretton, as if he were annoyed. 
 
 ' How strange !' said Percival. ' I saw 
 her a short time ago, and she said nothing 
 about it.' 
 
 c You saw her !' exclaimed both 'father 
 and daughter. 
 
 c Yes, at the station ; but I saw her 
 first at the Walesbury ball.' 
 
 c Those balls are horrid things. You 
 meet such strange people,' said Clara 
 Osborne, in a cold, supercilious manner. 
 
 c I thought we were Liberals,' said 
 Percival, smiling. 
 
 c Politics have nothing to do with 
 people,' answered Clara, decidedly.
 
 AT THE END. 87 
 
 4 Only with the people,' said Percival 
 smiling. 
 
 c Of course our politics are impersonal. 
 We have always been Liberals. I don't 
 see why we should in consequence pretend 
 to fraternize with Dick, Tom, and Harry.' 
 
 'Pretend! No politics, I believe, an- 
 nounce that programme.' 
 
 c All practise it,' retorted Clara, sharply. 
 
 1 The Gwillians boast longer descent than 
 we do, I fancy,' said Percival. ' They 
 would not thank you for ' 
 
 The butler entered with a strange 
 expression on his usually unmovable 
 countenance. 
 
 c Her ladyship would be glad to see you 
 upstairs, ma'am.' 
 
 Clara started up. The tone, not the 
 words, made her turn suddenly pale. 
 
 c Percival !' she said, and her brother 
 followed her.
 
 88 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 For a few moments Lord Stretton was 
 left sitting alone at the table. He even 
 ate a few more mouthfuls of the roast 
 beef on his plate, then recollecting that 
 something was happening upstairs which 
 should concern him, he turned hastily 
 towards Stevens, the butler. 
 
 c What message did Lady Stretton send 
 down, Stevens?' 
 
 c Her ladyship's maid told me to say ' 
 
 Before he could finish the sentence 
 Percival rushed in. 
 
 ' Father, come at once; be quick. Mother 
 
 is ' 
 
 Lord Stretton rose hastily, dropping his 
 dinner napkin on the ground. 
 
 ' Is she worse ?' he said, in a low voice. 
 
 Percival did not answer, but he ran 
 
 up the stairs without waiting for his father. 
 
 At Lady Stretton's door he paused till his 
 
 father joined him.
 
 AT THE END. 89 
 
 c Father, she is dying. Go in, go in 
 and — and ' 
 
 Lord Stretton opened the door and 
 walked in, but Clara stopped him. 
 
 c Go back, go back ! Oh ! go away. 
 Mother, mother, poor mother. She is 
 dead ! No one here but me cared for her, 
 no one loved her ; go away, go away !' 
 
 Lord Stretton quietly put the distracted 
 girl on one side and went up to the bed. 
 The doctor who had visited her an hour 
 ago had been recalled but had not yet re- 
 turned. The frightened maid stood near 
 the bed trying to restore animation. What 
 had happened was, one short spasm, one 
 stifled call, and then oblivion. All was 
 over even when Clara reached her mother's 
 bedside. 
 
 No one who had ever seen death could 
 doubt it was here, and Lord Stretton bend- 
 ing over his unloved wife realized that the
 
 90 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 long friction was over. It had been a 
 miserable story of incompatible temper, 
 borne because the scandal of a separation 
 would have been unbearable to both of 
 them. 
 
 1 Mother, mother !' murmured Percival, 
 kneeling down, but no tears came; instead, 
 the remembrance of their last conversation 
 seemed to be written in burning letters 
 before his eyes. 
 
 He felt powerless, miserable, and as if 
 an invisible hand had let down a black 
 curtain to hide heaven from him. 
 
 Lord Stretton murmured a few words to 
 the maid, inaudible because of Clara's un- 
 controlled sobs, and Percival felt that in 
 some strange way he was left alone with 
 his dead mother. She had loved him 
 though she had never been very demon- 
 strative, and she had even been jealous of 
 his father's love for him ; but he was her
 
 AT THE END. 91 
 
 son, he had bound himself to obey her, 
 and, by all that Percival held sacred, he 
 felt that nothing could release him from his 
 promise — and yet ; and yet it was hard that 
 his career must be sacrificed, and that he 
 must condemn himself to a life of partial 
 
 inaction in order to — to That seemed 
 
 the most terrible part of the whole, he was 
 to ruin his prospects in order to satisfy a 
 deep, bitter feeling of human jealousy, 
 even though the woman who had extracted 
 the promise from him was now beyond the 
 pale of human suffering. 
 
 The shaded lamp on the table, placed a 
 little behind the bed, flared up, and small 
 flakes began falling round about on the 
 white curtains and on the spotless quilt. 
 Percival rose to put it down. His hand 
 trembled as he did so, and at that moment 
 the doctor entered with the quick, noiseless 
 step practised by the profession. One look
 
 •92 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 at Lady Stretton's face, and then he 
 motioned them away. 
 
 Father and son went slowly into an 
 adjoining room, and Lord Stretton sank 
 down into a large arm-chair whilst Percival 
 stood by him. The elder man shaded his 
 face with his right hand and said nothing. 
 He was sunk in thoughts of the past, and 
 to Percival it seemed as if his father must 
 know what his mother had said to him, 
 and that he must now be pondering over 
 it. This terrible legacy must come be- 
 tween them. It was as if his mother's 
 spirit was hovering close beside him ; he 
 even put out his hand to ward her off, and 
 then he despised himself for feeling thus 
 when she, that is all that remained of her, 
 was lying there dead and speechless. The 
 tragedy of her married life was realised by 
 him now far more than it had been during 
 all his young life. Then he had put it
 
 AT THE END. 93 
 
 away with a strong, selfish hand, but now 
 he blamed himself for having done so, 
 feeling that he might have done more to 
 heal the wound. He could not understand 
 that youth has been given strong armour 
 to prevent its immaturity from being 
 crushed by the weight of an older genera- 
 tion of sorrow and sin. 
 
 In truth, Lord Stretton neither knew nor 
 guessed anything of Percival's thoughts. 
 His own were dark enough, except that 
 somewhere in the depth of his being he 
 breathed a deep sigh of relief, and then 
 hated himself for doing so. The dead 
 woman had been the mother of his 
 children, she had been at the head of his 
 household for all these years, but for all 
 these years she had kept him in a state 
 of martyrdom. The tyranny of their re- 
 spective positions had furrowed his brow 
 and had increased the power of her un-
 
 94 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 governed temper. Now suddenly all this 
 was over, and no one would ever be able 
 to judge between them. Perhaps public 
 sympathy would all centre round the 
 woman who was dead. No one would 
 understand that they had sinned equally 
 in the beginning, and that in the end 
 
 The door opened, and the doctor stood 
 beside him. 
 
 Lord Stretton's first words were con- 
 ventional. 
 
 ' Is there no hope ?' 
 
 1 It is all over,' was the simple answer ; 
 and the doctor held out his hand to Per- 
 cival, whose white face and frightened 
 eyes showed that he stood in need of 
 sympathy. 
 
 How could anyone offer it to Lord Stret- 
 ton ? Reserved and silent as he had been, 
 the terrible estrangement of the husband 
 and wife was the common talk, though
 
 AT THE END. 95 
 
 this talk was ignored most by the two 
 principal characters themselves. 
 
 c Come to your sister. She must restrain 
 herself,' he said, in a low voice. c Nothing 
 more can be done.' 
 
 Percival went quickly to Clara's side. 
 She was kneeling on the floor, her head 
 buried against a sofa, crumpling the stiff 
 chintz in her agony of grief. 
 
 L Clara, try to be calm — come away.' 
 
 Clara started up and followed her 
 brother, more because she dared not 
 speak in the presence of that silent form, 
 than from any wish to be guided by 
 Percival. 
 
 The two entered their mother s morn- 
 ing-room, where there were still recent 
 signs of her presence. The evening 
 letters were lying placed ready for her 
 on her own writing-table. No one had 
 dared to bring them to her, and some
 
 96 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 others lay there waiting to be answered. 
 
 1 Oh, Percival, Percival, she is dead. 
 She suffered so much, and now she will 
 
 never be able to Oh, she will soon 
 
 be forgotten, and no one will care.' 
 
 c Hush, Clara, she was my mother as 
 well as yours.' 
 
 4 You — you always left her, you never 
 comforted her. I was the only one who 
 knew her. Her great noble nature was 
 too good for all of you.' 
 
 c Clara, you forget.' 
 
 ' Forget ! How can I ? What has my 
 life been all this time ? I have had no 
 youth and no happiness because of — of 
 that ' 
 
 1 Poor Clara !' said Percival, suddenly 
 realising how much truth lay in the girl's 
 passionate words. 
 
 1 But she cared for me. She told me 
 never, never to marry.'
 
 AT THE END. 97 
 
 '* Hash ! Don't speak like this. You 
 will be sorry for it afterwards.' 
 
 c Sorry — oh, you will go away, and I 
 shall have to see that father ' 
 
 c I will not listen to this, Clara. Be- 
 sides, you need not pity yourself so much. 
 I shall not leave my father.' 
 
 From sheer astonishment Clara left off 
 sobbing. 
 
 1 You won't take your degree ?' 
 
 ' No ! I shall stay at home.' 
 
 1 No, no, you must not do that. I 
 shall get on somehow, don't think of 
 me.' 
 
 Percival had certainly not thought of 
 his sister, but he could not say so. He 
 gently put his arm round her. 
 
 t Poor Clara. We two must do the 
 best we can between us for — father. No, 
 I shall not leave home. I must help him 
 with the land — oh, I shall find plenty 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 98 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 to do ; besides, it is only honour that I 
 shall lose, I have known the joys of 
 Oxford.' 
 
 c Do you mean it ?' 
 
 '" Yes, most certainly. Clara, help me 
 to make him happy.' 
 
 But Clara turned away. 
 
 ' Did he ever try to make her happy ? 
 Oh, Percival, how am I to love him ?'
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FURNISHING UNDER, DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 Jethro Cobbin had already gone twice 
 over every room in the pretty hired Lon- 
 don house, situated in Ludlow Square. 
 He was trying to make sure that every- 
 thing was perfect for the two ladies who 
 were coming up this very afternoon. Con- 
 sidering that he knew nothing of London 
 life, less of London society, Sara's guardian 
 had done wonders. He had visited many 
 agents, and at last, having found a house 
 which he was assured would be suitable 
 
 h 2
 
 100 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 for a lady of means, he had visited various 
 wholesale establishments to see if they 
 would undertake to furnish the house in 
 a suitable style. Jethro Cobbin was cau- 
 tious. He had learnt during his pilgrimage 
 one great lesson, namely, to listen, and this 
 talent enabled him to learn a great deal 
 without betraying his own ignorance. By 
 judicious management he often found that, 
 instead of thinking him ignorant, dealers 
 and shopkeepers looked upon him as 
 possessed of a very superior wisdom, and 
 after trying to make him buy inferior 
 things, ended by showing him the ' real 
 article.' On these occasions Cobbin went 
 back to his small hotel, situated in a side 
 street off the Strand, rubbing his hands 
 with innocent delight. 
 
 ' Miss Sara will be surprised,' he 
 thought. c She won't think I'm so stupid 
 after all. It's her mother who looks down
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 10 L 
 
 on me. Oh ! I can see that well enough, 
 but Sara is just the most wonderful girl 
 in all creation. When she says " Guardian," 
 1 feel as if she meant it, and by Jenkins ! 
 I'll not disappoint her. Poor Ferrars was 
 right enough. Oh ! he too was the genu- 
 ine article ; but the mother, good Lord ! 1 
 can't swaller her !' 
 
 There was only one thing Cobbin had 
 allowed Mrs. Beddoes to have a hand in. 
 She might, he had said, bring her own 
 female servants, but he would choose the 
 man-servant ; for Mr Cobbin declared that 
 he knew a man if he knew anything, and 
 he was going to provide the male pro- 
 tector of his ward. 
 
 At this moment no one but himself 
 knew how many respectable men-servants 
 he had interviewed. His way was this. 
 Sitting silent at a table he allowed the 
 men to talk to him. After three minutes
 
 102 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 they usually permitted their sins to creep 
 out of the bag, whereupon Mr. Cobbin dis- 
 missed them. At last he found what he 
 called a treasure-trove, George Lumb by 
 name. The interview began as usual, but 
 Lumb remained speechless, so that Mr. 
 Cobbin and he stood for full two minutes 
 opposite each other without saying any- 
 thing. Mr. Cobbin then began to feel a 
 little nervous, for the first time his plan 
 had broken down. 
 
 ' Well,' he said at last. c Well, Mr. Lumb, 
 haven't you anything to say?' 
 
 ' I was waiting to hear what you had to 
 sa}^, sir,' said Lumb. 
 
 ' Oh, well, good Lord, you're the first 
 that has done that.' 
 
 Lumb said nothing. 
 
 c I want you to be a true and faithful 
 servant to the ladies. There's to be no 
 drinking, Lumb, no, on no consideration
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 103 
 
 whatever, and no love-making to maids ; 
 and as to the other things, I suppose you 
 know about waiting and other duties 
 better than I do.' 
 
 Lumb unfolded a written character, and 
 put it under Mr. Cobbin's eyes. 
 
 ' By Jenkins ! I tell you plain, I've no 
 faith left in paper, Mr. Lumb ! It says 
 you're honest and sober and an invaluable 
 servant. They all say that.' 
 
 1 It doesn't say that, sir,' said Lumb, 
 grimly. c It says, " Try him," and it's 
 signed " Mrs. Lumb," sir, you see ; she's 
 my wife ! That's the character I show, 
 though I've got others.' 
 
 Jethro Cobbin laughed and chuckled, 
 and chuckled and laughed so long that he 
 was quite ashamed of himself, for he felt 
 that he had found his match. Indeed, the 
 butler did not laugh, only a grim smile 
 passed over his features, a smile of pity for
 
 104 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Mr. Cobbin's weak manoeuvres. Lumb was 
 chosen, though in justice to Mr. Cobbin it 
 must be owned that he did look at his 
 other references, made enquiries, and could 
 hear nothing but what was good of him. 
 He was merely out of place in consequence 
 of the death of his last mistress. 
 
 At this moment Lumb was in his pan- 
 try, counting out the new plate which 
 Cobbin had bought by dozens. When the 
 gold-digger had satisfied his mind that all 
 he saw before him was very good, that is 
 as far as he knew, he called up Lumb to 
 make his assurance doubly sure. 
 
 ' Lumb, what do you think of this draw- 
 ing-room ? It's a neat little thing in its 
 way, isn't it? You see your mistress is a 
 dainty piece of goods, and she won't like 
 to complain, so I shan't know her ideas on 
 the subject.' 
 Lumb looked round with the air of a judge.
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 105 
 
 1 Yes, sir, it's all up to elate, except the 
 fender.' 
 
 ' What's the matter with that ? ' said 
 Mr. Cobbin, a little crest-fallen, for it 
 was the one thing he had chosen for him- 
 self. 
 
 ' It's the wrong period, sir. It's Louey 
 Quatorze and the rest is Queen Anne.' 
 
 Cobbin was silent, thinking over what 
 possible objection this could be ; and Lumb, 
 caught in a trap, ventured a step farther 
 and so lost some of the weight of his 
 authority. 
 
 ; King Louey Quatorze don't go well 
 with Queen Anne, sir.' 
 
 4 Weren't they married, Lumb ?' said 
 Cobbin. 
 
 ' Not exactly, sir,' said Lumb, ' the gen- 
 try never puts them together.' 
 
 c It cost a heap of money. Still, that 
 doesn't matter. I shouldn't like it not to
 
 106 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 be quite right. I didn't let Liberty have 
 it all his own way. I was wrong.' 
 
 - Yes, sir,' said Lumb, as he walked 
 away, c it was a pity.' 
 
 There was, however, no time to do any- 
 thing now before the arrival of Sara and 
 her mother, so Mr. Cobbin contented him- 
 self with learning experience and ordering 
 tea. 
 
 At five o'clock the bell rang, and two 
 cabs full of people and luggage stopped 
 the way. Sara got out first and was fol- 
 lowed by her mother and three maids, 
 who all immediately disappeared to ex- 
 plore, whilst Mr. Lumb stood silently by. 
 critically examining his new ladies. 
 
 L There's Guardian,' exclaimed Sara, as 
 Mr. Cobbin, feeling very shy, greeted the 
 widow with respect, though he at once 
 felt at his ease with his ward. ' You are 
 kind, and you have done everything and
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 107 
 
 saved us all the trouble. Mother, look, 
 isn't it a pretty house, considering it is in 
 London, and what nice prints ! How did 
 you know I loved pictures ? It's like 
 fairy-land ! You must be Alladin's 
 genius.' 
 
 Mr. Cobbin glanced at Lumb, expect- 
 ing a look of sympathy, but he found 
 none. Lumb had begun his term of ser- 
 vice, and was not to be turned aside from 
 his path of duty. In a few minutes the 
 three were in the drawing-room where the 
 tea-things were laid out, and where new 
 shining silver seemed to be the order of 
 the day. 
 
 ' Pour it out, Miss Sara,' said Cobbin to 
 his ward ; and Sara hastened to the tea 
 table, then suddenly she paused. 
 
 c Mother, you'll do it, won't you ?' 
 
 Mrs. Becldoes hid a slight flush of indig- 
 nation by looking out of the window. No
 
 108 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 one could have even guessed at her re- 
 sentment as she answered, 
 
 c No, no, I've done it long enough.' She 
 was to be only her daughter's chaperon, 
 a mere nobody when compared with the 
 heiress, whom this common gold-digger 
 had chosen to make a fuss with. Why 
 <jould not he leave them alone ? But Mrs. 
 Beddoes knew that she was going to share 
 in all these benefits, and so for the present 
 it was better to remain passive. Sara's 
 delight and Sara's joy irritated her, but 
 she had too long schooled herself to show 
 her feelings. Besides, the widow had mat- 
 ters of her own to ponder over. 
 
 Mr. Cobbin sat still and enjoyed himself 
 vastly by gazing at Sara, and wondering if 
 in all London there was such another 
 vision of beauty. To him Sara appeared 
 like a princess, whom some beneficent god 
 had given into his keeping.
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 109' 
 
 After tea, Sara and her mother examined 
 the house and all it contained with Mr. 
 Cobbin, and his face beamed when his 
 ward praised everything indiscriminately. 
 To tell the truth, Sara's own ideas as to 
 the style of c Queen Anne and Louey Qua- 
 torze ' respectively, were extremely hazy, 
 and the union of two ages did not at all 
 oppress her. Mr. Cobbin trembled a little 
 when she approached the drawing-room 
 fender, but Sara only praised the clock 
 and left the offending fender unnoticed. 
 Jethro heaved a sigh of relief. He would 
 of course get that blemish altered for 
 Lumb's sake, but at all events it could 
 not be a very glaring fault if Sara said 
 nothing. 
 
 1 1 think, Mr. Cobbin, you are spoiling 
 Sara,' remarked Mrs. Beddoes, when the in- 
 spection was over. ' She must remember that 
 for nearly a year she is still dependent.'
 
 110 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Mr. Cobbin laughed as if the widow had 
 said something extremely amusing. 
 
 c Miss Sara must just enjoy herself, 
 ma'am, if she wishes to please me. You 
 see I've no kith, no kin worth the name, and 
 I owe everything to Frank Ferrars. It's 
 just a pleasure to me to be of use to his 
 cousin.' 
 
 1 Sara has not been accustomed to 
 riches,' replied her mother. 
 
 ' No, indeed, 1 have not. At my uncle's 
 house we thought it quite strange when 
 we could buy anything new.' 
 
 ' Your uncle has been steadily losing 
 his money at farming his own land,' said 
 Mrs. Beddoes. 
 
 ' Yes, and my poor cousin Herringham 
 has to stay there and help in the unprofit- 
 able work. When I get my own money, 
 Guardian, I mean to share it with a good 
 many persons.'
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. Ill 
 
 ' You won't find Mr. Profitt easy to 
 manage,' said Mr. Cobbin, still smiling. 
 ' He is a lawyer and a half, for all his 
 small voice. A wonderful man, and I find 
 he objects to — to a good many things.' 
 
 ' Lawyers always are tiresome,' said 
 Mrs. Beddoes, raising her eyes to Mr. 
 Cobbin's face, and wondering when he 
 would go away. 
 
 1 Tiresome at times and convenient at 
 times, ma'am. Well, I had better leave 
 you ladies alone ; but, Miss Sara, if you 
 will forgive me for saying so,' he added, 
 shutting one eye and looking at Sara's 
 neat black dress, ' there's something wrong 
 with your dress. It's not what I've seen 
 in the best shops. Of course I don't 
 know about names and things, but I've 
 noticed a deal about ladies' clothes since 
 I've been in London. Remembering your 
 mourning, I only looked at the black stuffs
 
 112 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 that were made up. and it seemed to me 
 that there were a lot more bits of things 
 put on to the dresses — beads, I think, and 
 lace, or bits of things.' 
 
 Sara sat down beside him, and fairly 
 laughed till the tears ran down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 4 Fancy your looking at the fashions ! 
 Of course grand dresses are different to 
 mine, but they cost pounds and pounds.' 
 
 ' Oh ! is that it ! Well, I'll come round 
 to-morrow, and if you'll do me the favour, 
 Miss Sara, we'll go round shopping 
 together.' 
 
 He took leave, and as the door shut 
 behind him the widow heaved a sigh of 
 relief. 
 
 ' Is this dreadful man going to persecute 
 us always ?' 
 
 c Mother ! He is so natural and quaint, 
 and then how kind he is. It is a real
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 113 
 
 pleasure to him to come and arrange 
 everything for us.' 
 
 c He will hardly help us to get into 
 society.' 
 
 c That won't matter. We have done 
 very well without society all this time, 
 haven't we, dearest? Oh, we shall be 
 very happy. He will go to all the picture- 
 galleries and to concerts with me when 
 you don't want to come ; and, mother, may 
 1 ask Virginia to come and stay with us ? 
 Herringham must come too. He does 
 love pictures so much, and he never sees 
 any good art. He draws so well. Virginia 
 has shown me some of his work.' 
 
 i I think the Gwillians would not care 
 to come now when — in fact, Sara, when 
 you are not yet your own mistress.' 
 
 Sara's bright face clouded. Why did 
 her mother wish to keep her relations 
 away ? She had never appeared to like 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 the Gwillians, and yet she had allowed 
 her daughter to spend many weeks there. 
 Sara looked at her mother, and wondered 
 if something could make up to her for her 
 past sad life. She must now have time to 
 be happy. In time it would come all 
 right, she settled at last ; for Sara's dis- 
 position was cheerful and sunny, she not 
 having yet learnt to look at the seamy side 
 of existence. 
 
 The rest of the day the mother and 
 daughter were busily engaged in putting 
 their house in order and superintending 
 the new servants. It was all very amus- 
 ing to Sara, and even Mrs. Beddoes found 
 that, in some ways, wealth is preferable 
 to poverty ; but when she sent Sara to bed 
 she took a newspaper out of her bag and 
 gazed long at the death announcements. 
 Gradually as she gazed her brow became 
 less sacl, her eyes sparkled, and a smile
 
 FURNISHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 115 
 
 seemed to transform all her features ; she 
 was still young and beautiful. 
 
 c It has all come at once,' she said. 
 4 Money and freedom. Fate gives us what 
 we want usually when it is too late. But 
 is it too late ? Are his children sufficient 
 for him? A man is never constant and 
 yet — and yet ' 
 
 For fully an hour she paced up and 
 down the pretty drawing-room trying to 
 solve the question. 
 
 i 2
 
 116 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 
 
 Stacey Hall, with its art treasures, its mar- 
 bles from Rome, and its curiosities from 
 all over the world, was now suddenly 
 deserted. A fortnight after Lady Stretton's 
 death, the housekeeper arranged the chairs 
 and tables in holland coverings. The 
 great shutters were closed, and only minute 
 rays of sunlight pierced the melancholy 
 gloom within. On show-days, tourists, 
 having first procured an order from the 
 steward, were taken round by the crape- 
 enveloped housekeeper, who offered them
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 117 
 
 information in a melancholy tone. The 
 Joshua Reynolds, the Peter Lelys, the 
 Romneys were pointed out with becoming 
 sorrow, which was much heightened when 
 the party reached c the picture of the late 
 Lady Stretton, aged twenty, painted by 
 Sir John Millais.' c The Honourable Perci- 
 val Osborne and the Honourable Clarissa 
 Osborne, as painted by Houless,' were 
 spoken of more cheerfully, as they were 
 still walking in this vale of tears ; indeed, 
 Percival's portrait was one which could 
 not but enliven the spectators, so charm- 
 ingly had the fashionable painter portrayed 
 him. 
 
 1 The family were so cut up with the 
 loss of her ladyship that they have gone 
 to live at their London house,' said Mrs. 
 Reddin, c and it's not known when they'll 
 come back,' she added, shaking her head. 
 
 The town house could not be as sad as
 
 118 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 was Stacey Hall, but even there, on account 
 of Clara, the gloom hung like a dark pall 
 over the household. She would not be 
 comforted, and she determined that, at all 
 events, she would do nothing to make 
 her father's life cheerful, he having no 
 right to cheerfulness. He had his club, 
 and Percival's presence was a comfort to 
 him, not because he needed personal com- 
 fort, but because his daughter's miserable 
 face was a continual reproach. She seemed 
 to him to be the echo of his dead wife, 
 and this echo was not conductive to 
 happiness. 
 
 But time covers over even the sad ruins 
 of a proud Babylon, and, as the weeks 
 went on, Clara from looking fierce began 
 to look resigned. She was young, and 
 some interest in the outside world began 
 to creep into her saddened soul.
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 119 
 
 Percival, who had alone carried his 
 heavy secret with him, found that he must 
 come soon to some understanding with his 
 father. One evening, as the father and 
 son sat together in the London drawing- 
 room, Clara having retired to bed with a 
 headache, Lord Stretton put down his 
 newspaper and looked a few minutes in 
 silence at Percival, who was deeply en- 
 gaged in reading a book. 
 
 ' Percival, my boy, this life is wasting 
 your time. I have been selfish, but now 
 1 think it would be better if you thought 
 of taking up your college life, though you 
 know that your presence has been a great 
 comfort to me.' 
 
 Percival felt a flush come over his face 
 as he put down his book. 
 
 ' I shall not go back to Oxford, father. 
 I was meaning to talk to you about it, but
 
 120 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 I did not wish to ask if — if you intended 
 to go back to Stacey, or if — you mean to go 
 on living here.' 
 
 'Not return to Oxford! Indeed you 
 must.' 
 
 c I would rather not leave you. If you 
 go home you will want some one to help 
 you, and if you stay here Clara will be too 
 lonely without me.' 
 
 1 1 really couldn't accept that sacrifice. 
 Percival, besides — no, I shall return to 
 Stacey, and I shall find plenty of occupa- 
 tion, more than enough.' 
 
 ' You must let me help you.' 
 
 I By and by, certainly ; but now — you 
 must see life, and you must take your 
 degree and — and ' 
 
 I I could not leave you and Clara.' 
 
 1 Ah ! poor Clara. I wish she would 
 reconcile herself to the inevitable, but 
 at least she must get accustomed to —
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 121 
 
 living alone with me until she marries.' 
 
 ' I hope she will.' 
 
 c And you too, Percival ; I shall hope 
 yet to see you settled at Stacey.' 
 
 Percival was silent a moment, but during 
 that moment he had a blessed vision of a 
 tall girl with a bright face shaded by beau- 
 tiful hair, with a smile made to give joy to 
 any man who loved her and whom she 
 loved. 
 
 c I wonder if it is really true about that 
 money !' he thought. ' If so, father need 
 not deprive himself of money for me when 
 it is necessary to keep up Stacey, as he is 
 sure to do if I fall in love with a penniless 
 girl. If — I don't believe there is an if. I 
 have never thought of anyone since I 
 saw her. I wonder if Clara would admire 
 her?' 
 
 ; I should prefer a country life, sir,' he 
 answered, evasively.
 
 122 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 4 Yes, that has always been your turn, 
 country and books. A regular bookworm. 
 It will be the first in our family ; you in- 
 herit that taste from your mother.' 
 
 c Yes, she was very fond of books. She 
 certainly was extremely well read.' 
 
 Percival said this quietly and deliber- 
 ately. He must not let his mother's name 
 drop out of the family talk, for this name 
 would help him to light against this invisi- 
 ble and unknown enemy. Who was she, did 
 she really exist, or was it a creation of his 
 poor mother's brain? If only he could 
 make sure. 
 
 4 Your mother was a very cultured 
 woman. Yes, you take after her.' 
 
 ' If I were to see a woman I could 
 marry — then I hope, sir, you would wel- 
 come her to Stacey, and that there would 
 be no need of our separating.' 
 
 ' Of course not, Percival ; but you have
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 123 
 
 seen so little of the world, you can have 
 seen no one to satisfy your ideal.' 
 
 ' I have been about a good deal in Eng- 
 land, but the " grand tour " we might take 
 together, could not we ?' 
 
 c A good idea. Yes, we must travel. 
 Do you think poor Clara could be per- 
 suaded to take to the plan? I wish she 
 could look more cheerful.' 
 
 ' That will come. When we begin to 
 go out again she will be able to take a less 
 gloomy view of life, I hope.' 
 
 c She dislikes any visitors. I asked 
 Colonel Hyslop to dinner to-morrow with 
 us, but I see Clara does not like it.' 
 
 Whatever happened, Percival felt that 
 his father must be kept interested in the 
 outer world. Once he had been of a very 
 sociable disposition, but, in the old days, 
 he had given up many things to avoid 
 angry discussions with his wife. Now he
 
 124 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 was only just beginning to feel free again. 
 There was an elasticity in his tone, and a 
 brighter look in his eyes, which told plain- 
 ly that the old buoyancy was returning. 
 Percival wondered at it; his father seemed 
 to him almost a changed man. But if 
 Clara was to thwart all plans for a more 
 sociable life, might not this very gloom 
 make it easier for his father to turn to- 
 wards c that woman.' Clara, however, 
 would he knew never hear reason, she 
 would only accuse him of forgetting their 
 mother. 
 
 All this passed through Percival's mind, 
 and he felt terribly perplexed. The dead 
 had certainly laid a very heavy burden on 
 the living. Indeed, now that he saw his 
 father still in the prime of life, full of an 
 unused power of enjoyment, his heart mis- 
 gave him and his conscience tormented 
 him. Why had he ever promised ? What
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 125 
 
 right had he to have done this thing? 
 Happily for him, however, he was soon 
 able to throw off disagreeable thoughts, 
 and to turn his mind towards far more 
 interesting questions. Where was Miss 
 Beddoes ? Was this story true ? Would 
 there be a chance of meeting her? If she 
 had really come into a fortune, would not 
 a crowd of lovers flock round her ? Horrid, 
 mercenary fellows whom her young inno- 
 cence would not be able to unmask ? He 
 must find her out, but how ? 
 
 Strangely enough the next evening he 
 found the answer he required. Colonel 
 Hyslop came to dinner. He was an old 
 Indian officer, with a weather-beaten face 
 and very kind looking eyes. There was 
 something of the child still remaining in 
 his nature. He was full of fun, and told 
 many stories, good and bad without dis- 
 tinction. He entered the drawing-room of
 
 126 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 the Carlton Square house, and was met by 
 Clara robed in crape and looking like a 
 tragedy queen ; he felt that he must of 
 necessity bottle up some of his exuberant 
 spirits. This suppressed gas, however, did 
 not remain long in its sealed tube, and by 
 the middle of dinner he was making Lord 
 Stretton and Percival laugh heartily, Clara 
 rewarding him only by a chilly smile. 
 She looked as if she thought it most un- 
 feeling on the part of her father and of her 
 brother to appear so merry. At last the 
 colonel turned towards her remarking, 
 
 1 1 assure you, Miss Osborne, my wife 
 and the girls are leading a treadmill life, 
 but it suits them. Daisy comes down 
 every morning at nine o'clock to breakfast 
 with me, though she has often only had 
 four or five hours' sleep. It's of no use 
 for us poor old fogies to quote old sayings 
 to the young generation. Proverbs are a
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 127 
 
 vast mistake. When I begin, the girls 
 always find a proverb with the opposite 
 sentiment to cope with mine. I've given 
 it up.' 
 
 ' You ruined your daughter's ideas in 
 Simla. Very queer sort of life you old 
 Indians lead out there. Eh ! Hyslop, if 
 we are to believe Rudyard Kipling.' 
 
 c Believe him ! Bless me, not a word of 
 truth in the fellow. Pon my word, I knew 
 a poor devil of a private in my regiment 
 who used to spin yarns for him. Not a 
 word of truth in them, of course.' 
 
 6 All very well,' said Lord Stretton. 
 ' There's no smoke without tire.' 
 
 ' My Daisy would find a proverb to prove 
 the opposite. Besides, out there one must 
 keep up one's spirits, or else ' 
 
 c Not difficult in your case, Hyslop, I 
 fancy.' 
 
 1 Difficult ! On the contrary, at times I
 
 128 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 suffer from great depression. The other 
 evening, for instance, I was in a drawing- 
 room which was more like the Black Hole 
 of Calcutta than anything else that I ever 
 heard of. They say the hostess went with 
 her daughter to order a hundred chairs. 
 " But you have asked two hundred persons , 
 mother," remonstrated the girl, " how shall 
 we get them in ?" " That's nothing to do 
 with me," said the hostess. " I ask them, it's 
 their business to get in." Good Lord ! our 
 business was the task of a Hercules.' 
 
 The Colonel flushed at the recollection. 
 
 c You had some compensation, I hope ?' 
 said Lord Stretton. 
 
 c None — Daisy was cross, and wouldn't 
 tell me the names of the pretty girls. I 
 forgot, there was one she deigned to point 
 out to me — a new star. tC The Romance," 
 they call her, but the young men christen 
 her "A Mine of Wealth."
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 129 
 
 Percival looked up eagerly, and seemed 
 to know what was coming. 
 
 c What is her less romantic name ?' said 
 Lord Stretton. 
 
 c Miss Beddoes, but the romance was in 
 her sudden windfall. Ton my word, it's a 
 real romance. She has got a guardian who 
 has come over from gold-digging, and who 
 follows her like a sheep-dog. You should 
 see what a good time he gets of it. They 
 say that a young man must first square 
 him before he makes up to the girl. It's 
 funny to see all the penniless rogues 
 making a dead set at her.' 
 
 c T told you it was true, Percival,' put in 
 Clara. ( We had heard the story. My 
 brother knows the girl, her people live in 
 our parts.' 
 
 4 Do you, Osborne ? You lucky dog ! 
 Why, she's as fresh as a daisy and as sim- 
 ple as a — I don't know any simple things 
 
 VOL. I. k
 
 130 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 now-a-days, so the simile breaks down, but 
 the peach will soon lose its bloom.' 
 
 ' A touch does it,' said Lord Stretton, 
 speaking a little absently ; c two fingers and 
 a thumb. Where is she living?' 
 
 c She is a minor as well as a mine-owner 
 at present, just twenty.' 
 
 ' Oh, then there's time for the swarm to 
 settle.' 
 
 c Time ! I should think so, but there 
 will be an engagement long before that. 
 They say that the least she will have will 
 be sixty thousand a year, but that is below 
 the mark.' 
 
 ' Below the mark !' 
 
 ' Yes, it appears some digger relation 
 discovered a mine by mere chance. He 
 gave this other digger a fourth of it.' 
 
 c And what is he doing here?' 
 
 c He's guardian to the heiress. It's all 
 legal, and he will go about with her, they
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 131 
 
 say, much to the disgust of the mother.' 
 
 c Her mother?' repeated Lord Stretton. 
 
 ' Yes. The amusing thing is that several 
 would-be suitors have mistaken the mother 
 for the daughter, and have made love 
 violently to her.' 
 
 Percival was somewhat disgusted with 
 the jovial tones of the Colonel, now that 
 they related to Miss Beddoes. 
 
 c Is Mrs. Beddoes as pretty as the 
 daughter?' he asked. 
 
 4 As pretty ! A hundred times prettier. 
 When you have said that Miss Dives has 
 lovely hair, a fair skin, and plenty of youth, 
 you have said all. But the mother — upon 
 my word, the mother must have been un- 
 commonly pretty when she was young, 
 and even now she's fascinating.' 
 
 ' Well, Percival, what do you say to re- 
 newing the acquaintance ?' said his father. 
 
 c I hope you won't do any such thing,' 
 
 k2
 
 132 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Clara burst forth. c You at least, Percival,. 
 need not be looked upon as another money- 
 hunter. There are enough already.' 
 
 1 The farms won't let, don't you know 
 that, Clara?' said Lord Siretton, smiling; 
 but Clara looked scornful, she was in no 
 mood to acknowledge a pleasantry. 
 
 ' Miss Beddoes is too much of a lady to 
 imagine I should wish to annoy her,' said 
 Percival, with dignity. 
 
 c I'm sure of it,' said the Colonel, '' but 
 — ah ! Osborne, suitors have to reckon 
 with the mother.' 
 
 ' I've never seen Mrs. Beddoes, but she 
 is certainly a lady by birth. Her brother, 
 Mr. Gwillian, lives near Stacey, and the 
 Gwillians are a very old family.' 
 
 c But poor as church mice,' added Lord 
 Stretton, c and proud as Lucifer. Where 
 does your " mine of wealth" live, Hyslop ?' 
 
 Percival mentally noted the address
 
 UNDER SHINING GOLD. 133 
 
 given by the Colonel, and pondered how 
 he was to find a sufficient excuse for call- 
 ing there. At this moment, Lord Stretton, 
 glancing towards his son, was struck by 
 an extraordinary thought. 
 
 4 Good heavens !' he mentally ejaculated, 
 4 what an idea !'
 
 134 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 
 
 Again chance favoured Percival, and at 
 the very moment when he was full of self- 
 pity. He felt very lonely, in spite of hav- 
 ing but little time alone ; for he rode out 
 with his father, accompanied him to his 
 club, and occasionally went to picture-gal- 
 leries with Clara. But such a life, after 
 the delights of Oxford, appeared to him 
 insufferable. Books were now his only 
 solace, for his chief friends were all busilv 
 launching their separate boats on the
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 135 
 
 boundless ocean. He had but few rela- 
 tions, and Clara set her face against the 
 visits of strangers. One day, as he was 
 haunting the neighbourhood of Sara's home, 
 suddenly he found himself face to face with 
 her, and with a man whom he at once felt 
 must be her romantic guardian. As Per- 
 cival held out his hand to Sara, Jethro 
 gave him a searching glance. 
 
 ' This is indeed a pleasure, Miss Bed- 
 
 doeSo Perhaps you know Our deep 
 
 mourning prevents my sister from paying 
 any visits.' 
 
 Percival knew perfectly that it was not 
 only her mourning which prevented or 
 would prevent Clara from noticing the 
 new heiress, but he stretched the point as 
 far as it would go. He noted at once that 
 Sara had just the same bright face, the 
 same fascinating expression in her eyes, 
 and that her hair was of the same colour
 
 136 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 / 
 
 as before, for Clara had told him that c all 
 the vulgar, fashionable girls now dye 
 their hair.' 
 
 c How strange that we should meet here,' 
 she said, a slight blush spreading over her 
 face. ' The last time we met was at Chapel 
 Stacey station. I told you then that I was 
 going to college, but I had to give it up.' 
 
 4 And I have thrown up Oxford,' he said, 
 as if the fact brought him closer to her. 
 
 ' Oh ! Why ? — Perhaps I ought not to 
 ask.' 
 
 4 Because — my father is very lonely 
 now,' said Percival, wondering why he 
 had to give false ideas of the truth, truth 
 being so much easier to him than false- 
 hood. 
 
 c Ah, yes, I know. I'm so sorry for 
 you.' Sara's voice was at once full of 
 sweet, womanly sympathy ; a rare virtue 
 in these days, and one very charming to
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 137 
 
 men when they meet with it. c May I 
 introduce my guardian, Mr. Cobbin, to 
 you ? Have you heard ' 
 
 ' Indeed, your news has been in all the 
 papers.' 
 
 Percival greeted Mr. Cobbin with cor- 
 diality. He would have been equally cor- 
 dial to a sweep had she introduced him, 
 but in truth Cobbin's face at once im- 
 pressed him favourably. There was in it 
 a look of honesty which was by no means 
 common or what he expected to see. 
 
 6 1 think Miss Sara is enjoying herself,' 
 remarked Cobbin, looking at Sara as if he 
 were addressing the Queen, ' and she's 
 bent upon my enjoying myself too ; but 
 there's many things beyond my compre- 
 hension.' 
 
 ' Not a bit of it, Guardian. You know 
 we have both enjoyed the Zoo immensely 
 this morning. Don't laugh, Mr. Osborne,
 
 138 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 but it is a fact that no one had ever taken 
 me there before, so to-day we left my 
 mother to do a picture-gallery alone, and 
 we went to see our poor relations.' 
 
 ' I should have liked to go too had I 
 known,' said Percival, laughing. 
 
 'Would you? Oh! but you are blase, 
 of course. I know peoj^le think I am very 
 country fied, but it is a fact, and I can't 
 hide it. But do come in, mother will cer- 
 tainly be at home by this time.' 
 
 Of course Percival accepted as Mr, 
 Cob bin remarked, 
 
 ' Miss Sara says she likes the house, 
 even though I chose all the furniture. 
 You may fancy, sir, that, coming as I do 
 from Western Australia, I didn't know just 
 the latest fashions, but I listened. You 
 can learn a deal by listening to the shop- 
 keepers.' 
 
 c Oh, you did it beautifully, Guardian,
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 139 
 
 and then tell Mr. Osborne how Lumb 
 helped you.' 
 
 Jethro Cobbin liked to tell that story, 
 because it made Sara laugh ; indeed, the 
 two were as merry as children, and Per- 
 cival caught the infection. It seemed to 
 him that Sara was more perfect than ever, 
 and that she was not at all spoilt by 
 money. 
 
 c I suppose you go out a great deal, Miss 
 Beddoes,' he said, remembering Colonel 
 Hyslop's words. 
 
 'Yes, indeed, we get a great many invi- 
 tations, and so does Guardian. He quite 
 enjoys it, and people pay him great 
 attention.' 
 
 1 That's only because of you, Miss Sara. 
 You see, sir, she enjoys everything so 
 much that people are pleased. I daresay 
 they laugh at me behind my back, but I've 
 got a broad one.'
 
 140 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c They had better not let me hear them ! 
 Mother says I shall never be a society 
 person ; fashionable people don't enjoy 
 themselves. But I was not brought up to 
 understand the code.' 
 
 'You were brought up as everyone 
 should be,' he said, lowering his voice; 
 but Mr. Cobbin heard him, and as Sara 
 ran up the steps he said, 
 
 ' That's what I say, sir, Miss Sara isn't 
 even ashamed of me.' 
 
 Sara had opened the door with a latch- 
 key, a habit Lumb extremely disapproved 
 of, and led the way upstairs. 
 
 c Mother is not in ; I'm so sorry,' said 
 Sara, entering the drawing-room, and then 
 turning towards Percival. ' If I had rung 
 the bell, Lumb would have told us, and 
 really I don't know what we should do 
 without Lumb. He tries to make us walk 
 in the right paths of society, doesn't he,
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 141 
 
 Guardian ? I hope we are all in one style 
 now. Do you think we are ?' 
 
 Sara waved her hand round towards the 
 tables and chairs, and Pereival laughed 
 more than he had done since his mothers 
 death. At that moment the door-bell 
 rang, and Sara heard her mother's step on 
 the stairs. Pereival saw a slight look of 
 anxiety cross the girl's face as she started 
 up to meet her mother. 
 
 c Mother, here is Mr. Osborne ; we met 
 him close by, and I asked him to come in. 7 
 
 Pereival felt unusually shy, especially 
 as he saw before him a lady as unlike 
 Sara as it was possible to be. She was 
 tall, certainly, and very pretty, but every 
 line spoke of studied grace. Her face, 
 looking still so young, had but very little 
 animation in it, but the slow glances seem- 
 ed to take in everything as if by some 
 magic power of their own. For no ap-
 
 142 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 parent reason, Percival at once felt chilled. 
 Sara's mother was a woman of the world, 
 and he knew it at once as if by intuition. 
 Notwithstanding this, with a lover's astute- 
 ness he determined to make himself plea- 
 sant to her. To win Sara he saw that he 
 must win over her mother to his side. He 
 noticed too that Mr. Cobbin was barely 
 included in the conversation, so that Sara's 
 guardian soon took his leave, though first 
 making an appointment to come and fetch 
 the ladies that evening. 
 
 ' Mr. Cobbin is very kind in lending us 
 his brougham,' said Mrs. Beddoes, in a 
 soft, gentle voice which implied many 
 things, except gratitude. Then suddenly 
 she raised her eyes to Percival's face, and 
 looked at him earnestly. ' You met my 
 daughter at Chapel Stacey, I think.' 
 
 4 At the county ball at Walesbury. But 
 1 know Mr. Herringham Gwillian — I mean
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 143 
 
 I have often met him. I hope your uncle 
 is well ?' added Percival, turning towards 
 Sara, because he felt utterly chilled by the 
 widow's look. 
 
 1 Yes, but they look down upon me very 
 much for having forsaken the paths of 
 learning.' 
 
 ' Sara will soon get tired of this going 
 about,' put in Mrs. Beclcloes, quietly. 
 
 c As well make hay, then, while the sun 
 shines,' said Percival, wondering if the 
 widow meant what she said, and wishing 
 he was once more walking in the street 
 with Sarah and her original guardian. 
 
 c Are you permanently settled in town?' 
 said Mrs. Beddoes, again slowly lifting her 
 eyes towards his face. 
 
 ' Yes — no, I mean. We have hardly 
 made up our minds. My father pines for 
 his country pursuits ; but, on the other 
 hand, we fancy travelling would benefit
 
 144 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 my sister. She cannot get over our loss 
 at all.' 
 
 c It must have been a great shock for 
 you all,' answered Mrs. Becldoes, softly. 
 
 Percival now felt that he could not with 
 politeness stay longer, so he rose to go, 
 wondering how he was to find another 
 excuse for a speedy return. Sara rose 
 too, her manner appeared to be rather 
 constrained in her mother's presence. 
 
 6 I am glad you did not tell of me, Mr. 
 Osborne,' she said, smiling. 
 
 c About ?' 
 
 ' About the Zoo ! To-morrow we are 
 going to visit the Tower. Mr. Cobbin en- 
 joys himself immensely, and so do I. It 
 is no pretence, but mother ' 
 
 c I think you might inform your mind a 
 little more,' said the widow. 
 
 1 I have clone that so long ; besides, 
 Guardian knows a good deal about wild
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 145 
 
 beasts, so that he was charmed with them/ 
 The widow stood up, and Percival now 
 noticed how beautifully she was dressed. 
 
 ' Will you excuse my sister for not call- 
 ing upon you ?' he said, holding out his 
 hand. The second white lie seemed easier 
 than the first, but suddenly those droop- 
 ing lids were raised, and looking straight 
 at him convicted him of sin. 
 
 1 Certainly, I quite understand.' 
 She shook hands with him, but she did 
 not invite him to come again. Percival 
 felt that he had failed to captivate Sara's 
 mother. Then for one moment he held 
 Sara's hand, and she looked at him and he 
 at her. Something in their natures which 
 were guileless, something which assured 
 them that they could trust each other, 
 made each pause one unmeasured instant, 
 then with that strong, firm conviction 
 peculiar to youth, they felt that there was 
 
 VOL. I. l
 
 146 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 an invisible tie between them, which they 
 must needs acknowledge and take into 
 account. Sara's lips parted. She was 
 going to ask him to come again, but the 
 soft rustle of her mother's dress closed 
 her lips. Young people instinctively know 
 what their elders do not wish them to do. 
 The next instant her own judgment had 
 rallied to her mother's side. 
 
 ' Of course I mustn't show I like him,' 
 she thought, c it's not the thing. How 
 tiresome ! but I do like him very much. 
 He is the best man I have ever met. He 
 is just a perfect gentleman, and then how 
 nice he was to Guardian.' 
 
 She did not, however, again look at him, 
 but the first glance had been enough, and 
 Percival walked home as though he trod 
 on enchanted ground. 
 
 The dull London house seemed il- 
 luminated by Sara's presence, though now
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 147 
 
 seen only through his imagination, and 
 even Clara's dark, sad face could not 
 put out that light. Lord Stretton, him- 
 self, noticed the change in his son, and 
 was more cheerful in consequence. 
 
 When they were at last alone, Percival 
 could not resist making a confidant of his 
 father. 
 
 4 By-the-way, father, I met Miss Bed- 
 does to-day, and she had the old digger 
 with her. He is a delightful and honest 
 specimen of the race, and quite devoted to 
 her. He reminded me of a big, soft-heart- 
 ed Newfouifdland dog.' 
 
 ' You met them to-day ? How strange ! 
 What is the girl like ?' 
 
 1 Oh, you know, I've seen her before, 
 and she isn't altered a scrap by her wealth. 
 I fancy the guardian must be running the 
 concern till she comes of age.' 
 
 1 Extraordinary !' 
 
 l 2
 
 148 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Well, not more so than — many other 
 things one hears of; and, after all, she is 
 of gentle birth, and not a tallow-chandler's 
 daughter.' 
 
 i But they were very poor.' 
 
 c Poverty is highly fashionable now-a- 
 clays. By the way, I wish Clara would 
 call on them, but I suppose she will say 
 that it is impossible.' 
 
 ' Quite impossible.' . 
 
 6 Oh, well, I thought it might be nice 
 for Miss Beddoes to have some recognition 
 from her uncle's neighbours.' 
 
 ' Clara could hardly call on the niece 
 now when — your mother never even bowed 
 to the uncle.' 
 
 c You see, mother belonged to an old- 
 fashioned set. Her people were very ex- 
 clusive, but it isn't the fashion now. Some 
 of the nicest fellows at Oxford had no 
 family worth the name.'
 
 MUTUALLY ATTRACTED. 149 
 
 ' It's all very well for a man, but women 
 are more particular/ said Lord Stretton. 
 
 Percival turned the conversation . If 
 his family would not help him in this mat- 
 ter, he must trust to his own exertions. 
 So it happened that, the next clay, he felt 
 an extraordinary desire to visit the Tower. 
 He even said to himself that it was a place 
 full of historical associations, which a 
 young' man ought to know thoroughly. 
 There were fine views from the Govern- 
 or's windows, and, as he knew the Gov- 
 ernor, he might ask him to show Miss 
 Beddoes things not seen by the ordinary 
 sight-seer. That evening, instead of read- 
 ing attentively, Percival plotted and con- 
 jured up divine visions, and the result was 
 that the next morning found him on his 
 way to the Tower of London.
 
 150 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 
 
 To be honestly and entirely in love, to 
 believe that you have seen the one and 
 the only woman you will ever marry, to 
 feel that fche is not altogether indifferent 
 to your plain-spoken, if silent, admiration, 
 to see that the future can place but few 
 obstructions in your path of love, and that 
 one word from her may make the present 
 glorious — all this is certainly enough to 
 make a young man decidedly at peace with 
 himself and with the whole world. Such 
 was the case with Percival on his return
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 151 
 
 from the Tower of London. When Sara 
 and Mr. Cobbin entered the Tower pre- 
 cincts, and were taken possession of by 
 a Beefeater, the Australian was as pleased 
 as a boy of ten with everything that was 
 shown him. But the sudden appearance 
 of Percivalmade Sara's guardian extremely 
 anxious to examine strange armour, of 
 which he could not guess the use, and to 
 o;o down on hands and knees in order to 
 try to decipher undecipherable inscrip- 
 tions, thus leaving the young people plenty 
 of opportunity for private conversation. 
 First they discussed trivial facts, then they 
 passed to trivial thoughts, and from these 
 again they branched off towards their 
 separate ideals. 
 
 Sara was too genuine to j)retend, even 
 to herself, that she did not guess his 
 secret, but she rebuked her imagination 
 by thinking :
 
 152 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c It is only a fancy on bis part, of course. 
 I am not half good enough or grand enough 
 for him, and he would be the last to care 
 about money. Anyhow, if he cares it 
 isn't for my money, because — because I 
 rather think, indeed I am almost sure, that 
 he liked me the first time we met, and I 
 know that I liked him then. I wish I was 
 a great lady, and then — and then ' 
 
 During the happy time when they wan- 
 dered round the old enclosure, where so 
 many hearts had throbbed with hopeless 
 despair, these two only felt that heaven 
 was being brought slowly down for their in- 
 spection. Mr. Cobbin looking on chuckled 
 to himself and peered into minute dark 
 dungeons, pretending to be vastly interested 
 in mediaeval prison life. 
 
 ' It's as plain as Westminster Tower 
 clock,' he thought. ' This young man is 
 smitten with Sara, and if I know anything
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 153 
 
 Sara is with him. By Jenkyns ! they are 
 just suited to one another. Lord ! what 
 luck the girl has, and she deserves it too. 
 She don't mind me at all, and lets me 
 see it all just as if I was a real relation. 
 She is certainly the nicest girl in England, 
 but I see farther than she does, and I see 
 that Sara's mother's got that dark man in 
 view, and Sara is as innocent as a babe. 
 I'll eat my head if the Avidow doesn't mean 
 him to marry Sara. He's one of your clever 
 mushroom men. Gambles, I expect, but 
 the widow's blind as a bat and seems very 
 fond of him, and my Miss Sara will have a 
 light for it ! Why, it's Mr. Greenwood 
 here, there, and everywhere, and don't he 
 hate me like poison ! Lord ! Well now, 
 perhaps I'm wrong, perhaps the widow is 
 wanting this Mr. Greenwood for herself. 
 Of course that's it, so Sara's little romance 
 can spin along at a line rate, just as it
 
 154 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 should. Best not interfere. Lord ! how 
 they do get on ! They talk of young 
 aristocrats that are worth nothing, but this 
 one is worth quite a ticly gold-mine.' 
 
 Whilst Jethro Gobbin was thus meditat- 
 ing, Sara had reached the stage of giving 
 sympathy to Percival. 
 
 1 I wish I could see my way clearly to 
 doing something worth doing, but at 
 present nothing is clear to me except that 
 my place is by my father's side,' he said. 
 
 ' But of course you will take your 
 degree,' said Sara, who had correct ideas 
 about degrees. 
 
 ' No, I can't go back to Oxford. My 
 father cannot spare me.' 
 
 c Won't he really spare you ?' 
 
 ' I mean, I should not like to leave him.' 
 
 Sara paused, and then she turned the 
 conversation fancying that Percival had 
 rather morbid views about his duty.
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 155 
 
 ' Are you named after Wagner's Parsifal ; 
 Is it the same name?' 
 
 4 Yes, I suppose it is. My mother was 
 a great musician, but I know nothing of 
 music. You know that the original author 
 of Parsifal dedicated his poem to a lady 
 whose name he would not reveal. That 
 was a chance worth having.' 
 
 Percival looked up quickly at Sara, and 
 Sara felt certain that, given he wrote a 
 work of art, he would choose her as the 
 lady of his dedication. 
 
 c I wonder,' she said, suddenly, c if there 
 are some people whose lives are always 
 happy — quite exempt from trouble, I 
 mean.' 
 
 c You deserve all the happiness that you 
 get, and more too,' he said, with the 
 thoughtless generosity of a lover. 
 
 c How do you know that ?' said Sara 
 laughing. c Sometimes I wonder at my
 
 Id 6 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 own identity. Yon see what a nice kind 
 guardian I have. Real good ! Then it is 
 such a happiness living with my mother 
 and trying to make up to her for her sad 
 life. She was not happy when she was 
 young.' 
 
 ' But she had you.' 
 
 4 We have never lived much together. 
 She has been very self-denying. I was 
 nearly always with the Gwillians. She 
 thought it more cheerful for me. I love 
 them dearly, you know.' 
 
 4 And now you will plunge into the 
 whirl of this stupid society !' Percival 
 felt dreadfully jealous of society. 
 
 c It is all very exciting, but still — I 
 shall soon be tired of it, and I shall pine 
 for a country life and for books ; in fact, for 
 just a life of an ordinary common-place 
 mortal.' 
 
 1 You will soon get the taste for the
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 157 
 
 other life, and then your views will change.' 
 
 4 No, I am sure they will not. You see, 
 
 I am not a beauty, so it's really for my 
 
 money — or rather the money I shall have 
 
 — that people are kind to me now. One 
 
 can't help remembering that, and when I 
 
 stop to think of it, it rather spoils society.' 
 
 1 You will soon forget that.' 
 
 4 No, I can't. I feel that people envy 
 
 me, and whilst they are saying pretty 
 
 things to me they are wishing that they 
 
 had my luck.' 
 
 4 Envy, you think, can't hide itself?' 
 4 They envy Guardian and then they look 
 down upon him. If they really knew him 
 they might really envy him. He is so 
 good, so simple, so devoted.' 
 
 4 Devoted to you. I am not surprised !' 
 These words were said in a low voice. 
 4 It is only for my cousin's sake. I love 
 him for his own.'
 
 158 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ' And you think everyone envies you?' 
 
 ' I hope not everyone, but still — what 
 does it matter ? You see, I have several 
 buffers between me and the world.' 
 
 Percival knew he was doing an unheard- 
 of thing, but he half murmured, 
 
 '* You will include me amongst them ?' 
 
 'You?' 
 
 Sara's face rivalled a red rose, but at this 
 moment Jethro Cobbin, having closely 
 examined all the dungeons till he could 
 barely open his eyes in the daylight, re- 
 turned to the neighbourhood of the young 
 people. 
 
 'Our strange conductor wants to move 
 on, Miss Sara,' he said, apologetically. 
 
 ' Oh, yes, of course — I'm quite ready.' 
 
 Percival had entirely forgotten the views 
 to be seen from the Governor's house, and 
 had no wish to go near to it. 
 
 c Is there any other sight you would like
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 159 
 
 to see this morning, Miss Sara?' asked 
 Jethro. 
 
 c You have never seen the People's 
 Palaee,' answered Sara, hurriedly. 
 
 c It's true, I've never seen it.' 
 
 L Neither have I,' said Percival, eagerly. 
 
 ; Then let's go,' said Sara, excitedly. 
 
 The great hall delighted them all, but 
 Jethro discreetly found that he was most 
 anxious to examine the technical work- 
 shops, so the two were again left alone, 
 and Percival determined to waste no more 
 time. 
 
 c You did not answer me just now.' 
 
 He spoke in a low voice. 
 
 ' Because — oh, I am afraid you are only 
 — you mean to make me a pretty speech, 
 but I told you that 1 am not yet accus- 
 tomed to — society ways.' 
 
 ' Don't be afraid, I hate society ways, 
 and I never mean to be a despicable fool
 
 160 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 who doesn't know his own mind. If you 
 had not had sixpence, as soon as I could I 
 
 was going to ask you to Why not say 
 
 it ? I loved you at first sight. I tried to 
 put it away from me because of my work : 
 I wanted to win distinction in order to have 
 something to offer you, but then came my 
 mother's death — and all that sadness. I 
 had to put away all thought of myself, 
 and just then I was rather bowled over by 
 hearing of your sudden wealth. But I 
 couldn't help it, could I? and I wasn't go- 
 ing to let that stand in the way, though 
 for some time to come I am afraid I must 
 be dependent on my father. Oh, don't 
 look away — forgive me, I know I'm doing 
 an unheard-of thing, but after all you and 
 I are the people it most concerns, and it 
 seems to me to be more natural to speak out 
 face to face with each other, doesn't it? 
 If you care at all, I'll wait and wait and
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 161 
 
 be satisfied. I don't want to interfere 
 with your pleasure. I want you to enjoy 
 everything, and to let me keep everything 
 bad away from you. I'm not half good 
 enough for you, I know, but I offer you a 
 whole heart and all I have, even though 
 now I shall never be able to distinguish 
 myself.' 
 
 He paused, his back was against one of 
 the great Caryatides, and Sara was close 
 beside him with her face half-averted. 
 
 6 But, but — ' she stammered, and paused. 
 
 c Don't be afraid of me, say exactly what 
 you wish to say. I shall know it's all 
 right if you do it. Foolish misunderstand- 
 ings are despicable things ; it is much bet- 
 ter to be plain and straightforward in life 
 always.' 
 
 Sara knew that her face must look like a 
 pink peony. She felt so proud to be the 
 chosen of this man, himself endowed with 
 
 vol. I. M
 
 162 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 a perfectly straightforward, simple nature, 
 incapable of deceit. She had won this love 
 before her money had come to her ; she did 
 not doubt this for one instant, for in a 
 mysterious way she had almost realised it 
 on the night of the ball. 
 
 ; I am afraid you don't know me, and — ' 
 
 c Don't I ? Well, anyhow I have a right 
 intuition. Will you trust me with your 
 life, Sara? It seems so presumptuous of 
 me to ask you such a thing, only ' 
 
 c Only, I want to trust }^ou with it,' said 
 Sara, suddenly turning towards him and 
 giving him her hand as they stood near the 
 Caryatides, ' but I can't believe it.' 
 
 ' What? about me, dearest? You seem- 
 ed so far off even yesterday, and now, and 
 
 now Do you really, realty mean it, 
 
 darling ? because I don't feel as if I could 
 face life if it is to be only a dream.' 
 
 ' Mean it ? Yes, of course I mean it ;
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 163 
 
 why do you doubt me ? Only what will 
 Lord Stretton think of it ?' 
 
 ' And your mother, what will she think 
 of me ?' 
 
 1 Mother will feel that I am a very 
 fortunate individual.' 
 
 c And my father is too good and too in- 
 dulgent to refuse me anything ; besides, 
 you forget, darling, that you are a much 
 sought after person.' 
 
 6 And mother will have a son ! Some- 
 times I fancy that she would have been 
 happier with a son. She does not lean on 
 me as she would on a man.' 
 
 4 Sara dearest, shall we tell him?' said 
 Percival, nodding towards Jethro Cobbin, 
 who was just then intently examining a 
 picture. 
 
 1 That would be delightful — but no, I 
 had better tell mother first. She might be 
 hurt.' . 
 
 M 2
 
 164 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c You think of everyone, darling, but I 
 want you all to myself. There is so much 
 that I want to tell you, and I wasted all 
 the time at the Tower. Give me your 
 hand, sweetest. Promise me that — you 
 won't forget me when you are in that 
 society whirlpool where I can't follow you 
 yet.' 
 
 'Oh, society will be like water on a 
 duck's back to me,' she said smiling, and 
 in a young dream of happiness trying to 
 realize that she and Percival loved each 
 other. 
 
 By this time the inexorable moments 
 had fled, it was time to go home, as Cob- 
 bin all too soon came to inform them. 
 
 ' If we are late, your mother will not 
 trust me again,' he said, deprecatingiy. 
 
 L You have given us a perfect morning,' 
 said Percival. 
 
 ' And Miss Sara is looking blooming,' he 
 answered, chuckling.
 
 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 165 
 
 c That's because I feel as happy as it is 
 possible to be,' she replied as they entered 
 the train, and then all the way home Jethro 
 Cobbin found it necessary to take great 
 interest in the view, but this pleasure like 
 all other pleasures came all too soon to an 
 end.
 
 166 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 
 
 Whilst Sara was metaphorically lying on 
 a bed of roses, Mrs. Bedcloes was sitting in 
 a pretty drawing-room bending over an 
 embroidery frame. She was working a 
 stole for the curate in charge of the little 
 mission church close by. He had called 
 upon her very soon after her arrival, and, 
 like many other curates in charge or out of 
 charge, he had found Mrs. Beddoes ex- 
 tremely fascinating. He had called her c a 
 charming, saintly woman, perfectly un-
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 167 
 
 worldly.' c Other women,' he remarked, 
 4 suddenly raised above all pecuniary 
 cares, would have had their heads turned, 
 but this one is a widow indeed.' 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes had set to work on the 
 stole as the result of the second interview 
 with him, and now that it was nearly com- 
 pleted it was a beautiful piece of art 
 needlework. Lucy Beddoes had certainly 
 changed from the Lucy Beddoes who not 
 long ago had daily walked demurely down 
 Willington's one long street. She had al- 
 ways been pretty, but now the slight look 
 ot anxiety clinging to the white forehead 
 had vanished entirely. An extremely 
 charming smile could often be seen on her 
 lips, and she did not now raise her eyelids 
 quite as deliberately as she had done for- 
 merly. Altogether, the widow was more 
 attractive because more animated than she 
 had been for years.
 
 168 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 She could easily think of other things 
 as she worked, because she was only what 
 workers call ' filling in.' Her soft brown 
 hair was coiled low down on her head, 
 touching the slender column of her neck. 
 Her pale, very pale blue eyes had an in- 
 fantine look in them which conquered 
 curates, and even caused men of the world 
 to speculate whether her virtues were in- 
 digenous, for these men knew to their cost 
 that candour can be imported. She had 
 at last discarded the minute widow's cap, 
 and looked now nearly as young as her 
 daughter and very much more ethereal ; 
 for Sara's good looks were of the youthful, 
 healthy type. Her mother's face had a 
 tendency to look pathetic when not idealised 
 by a smile, and her figure was still per- 
 fect. As she sat working, evidently weav- 
 ing in her thoughts with her stitches, she 
 made a very womanly picture, a picture
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 169 
 
 which required an onlooker, and indeed 
 she was expecting one, for every few 
 minutes Mrs. Beddoes looked at the clock. 
 
 She had a good visual memory, and the 
 picture which she now filled in mentally 
 took the form of Percival Osborne. She 
 saw him as plainly as if he were before 
 her, and she noted every particular of the 
 well-grown, manly figure of the young 
 Englishman, the best type of a race which 
 some tell us is fast becoming extinct. She 
 could find no fault with him, though she 
 allowed herself to despise a being so simple 
 and so straightforward as this one appeared 
 to be. The boyish candour, still so ap- 
 parent, could not belie the rest of the 
 character, and evidently the complex 
 element in it was entirely non-existent. 
 
 ' Her son,' she thought, ' her son, — who 
 could have guessed that he should fall in 
 with my daughter ! He doesn't even want
 
 170 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 her money, it is pure love.' Her lips lost 
 their smile and were slightly pressed to- 
 gether, an evident sign of a strong character. 
 4 Sara thinks that she has but to wish for a 
 thing now and that it will fall into her lap. 
 It is ridiculous to talk of Providence, there 
 is no such thing, nothing but blind, foolish 
 fate. We have to carve out our destinies. 
 That is true, at all events, if nothing else 
 is certain. Suppose I had married James 
 Colborne, I should have cut the true thread 
 of my life. He never could understand 
 why I refused him.' 
 
 She smiled again now, a smile some 
 would designate as heavenly, forgetting 
 that there are smiles in hell. It was 
 caused by the remembrance of the un- 
 reasoning devotion of this special lover, 
 for the widow had steered through several 
 love affairs, which she had so well con- 
 cealed that, even if suspected of having
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 171 
 
 admirers, no one had ever blamed her. 
 c She was just the sort of woman a man 
 couldn't resist,' was the feminine way of 
 making light of her charm of manner. 
 The modern woman, or the new woman, or 
 the woman with a decided turn for flirting, 
 was as far removed from the outward and 
 visible personality of Lucy Beddoes as was 
 the fast and fashionable lady of society. 
 
 Lucy never lowered a man's higher 
 nature, on the contrary she entirely satisfied 
 it, and to many she had appeared to be the 
 one perfect being belonging to the feminine 
 order. To such she was so far from ap- 
 pearing to be masterful that, on the con- 
 trary, she always created in the manly 
 breast a desire to protect her. When she 
 had sorrowfully refused to marry a devoted 
 lover she never hurt his feelings, rather 
 she left him with the conviction that for her 
 sake he would in the future live an ideal
 
 172 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 life, guided by an ideal star shining far 
 above him in a pure sky. 
 
 There was only one man who had been 
 troubled and perplexed as to the real 
 character of his ideal. Being very much 
 in love, he had in vain endeavoured to 
 force a ' yes ' from her lips ; then all at 
 once he turned upon her, and, like a pro- 
 phet, suddenly filled with a new spirit of 
 divination, he accused her of having lured 
 him on to his destruction. Lucy distinctly 
 remembered how she had called to her 
 help a special reserve of calmness, and 
 how she had softly answered, 
 
 c When did I ever do that ? Tell me 
 when? What did 1 say? On what do 
 you base your cruel accusation?' 
 
 In trying to particularize, the lover's 
 courage forsook him; her words were true, 
 he could not remember one single instance 
 when Lucy had said what was blamable,
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 173 
 
 not one. How can a man, made of coarse 
 clay, accuse a woman of a turn of the head, 
 of the slow lifting of eyelids, of move- 
 ments so gentle and so graceful that they 
 would by many be taken as the type of 
 Madonna characteristics. This man had 
 not answered one word, he had risen and 
 gone forth from her presence condemned 
 by his silence, till once more alone, free or 
 partially free from her subtle influence, he 
 had exclaimed aloud, 
 
 ' Good God ! the devil did not tempt Eve, 
 that is a mere coarse symbol, Eve herself 
 was the devil incarnate.' 
 
 This was four years ago, and Lucy sel- 
 dom dwelt upon the incident. She pre- 
 ferred dreaming mentall}- of the Rev. 
 James Colborne, who had said that she 
 was his Jacob's ladder to heaven ; only, 
 when rejected, he found himself unable to 
 exist near the ladder, so he had effected
 
 174 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 an exchange of livings, vowing to remain 
 a bachelor. 
 
 ' Mr. Gaythorne Greenwood,' said Lumb, 
 suddenly interrupting her meditation and 
 her stole. 
 
 Lumb's voice was rather severe ; he had 
 taken a dislike to this gentleman, and 
 Lumb showed his dislikes by a severe in- 
 tonation of voice whilst announcing the 
 visitor's name. 
 
 Lucy rose slowly and gracefully to re- 
 ceive her guest. He was a society man, 
 one of those delightful men of about 
 thirty-seven, of whose antecedents no one 
 knows anything, except that they are still 
 single. They are always asked out every- 
 where and are to be seen everywhere ; they 
 are courted and petted by fashionable 
 ladies, because other fashionable ladies 
 court and fete them, and because it is the 
 right thing to know them. A man who has
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 175 
 
 made this sort of reputation is much to 
 be envied. No one knows his income, and 
 one expects anything of him except to ap- 
 pear and to allow himself to be made much 
 of. He is always supposed to be the 
 younger son of somebody of consequence 
 who is, however, always nameless, though 
 sometimes the name of a well-known man 
 is {riven as bein£ his l cousin.' As he 
 knows everybody, his conversation never 
 flags, and need never turn or fall back upon 
 4 his own people.' Indeed at last a romance 
 is composed purely in his honour, and he 
 is said to have refused to marry an ugly 
 heiress. Thus he acquires the much- 
 prized virtue of disinterestedness, so that 
 heiresses are looked upon as beings who 
 will have to propose to him if they happen 
 to fall in love with him, but who will never 
 have the honour of an offer of marriage 
 from him.
 
 176 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Gaythorne Greenwood had met Mrs. 
 and Miss Beddoes, and had been, not 
 exactly fascinated, as many of his betters 
 had been, but impressed by the widow's 
 appearance. 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes soon discovered that this 
 charming man was attracted by Sara's un- 
 sophisticated personality, but even Lucy, 
 however, had not yet discovered whether 
 in truth Mr. Greenwood was attracted by 
 herself, or by Sara's self, or by Sara's 
 money. She had asked him several times 
 to drive, to lunch, and to tea, in order to 
 discover this secret — an important one to 
 her — and she hoped soon to satisfy herself 
 on this point ; but then Lucy was not the 
 only clever individual in town. Gay- 
 thorne Greenwood was her equal, or so he 
 imagined. 
 
 ' I am so glad to see you,' said Mrs. 
 Beddoes, c it is so kind of you to come and
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 177 
 
 see two stupid women when so many clever 
 people want you.' 
 
 Gaythorne made a charming bow as he 
 answered, 
 
 1 The kindness is all on your side.' 
 
 'Is it?' (Lucy's smile was enough to 
 turn the head of any ordinary man.) ' Now 
 I think a widow with one girl is placed in 
 a very difficult position, especially when 
 for so long she has lived out of the 
 world.' 
 
 c The world has too long been deprived 
 of a great pleasure.' 
 
 c Men flatter us very easily.' Lucy 
 looked down, and thoughtfully gazed at 
 her clasped hands. 
 
 1 The chariot wheels of life certainly 
 
 run more smoothly if fortune paves the 
 
 way,' said Gaythorne, crossing his legs, 
 
 and looking with the eyes of a connoisseur 
 
 at the charming figure before him. c What 
 vol. r. N
 
 178 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 a pity the fortune passed her over,' he 
 thought. c I should have preferred the 
 widow, the daughter has no surprises 
 about her character.' 
 
 c You mean Sara's life,' and Lucy sighed 
 softly. t When she is happily married, I 
 shall have very little anxiety left ; but, of 
 course, I know that ' 
 
 c That Miss Beddoes will be a most 
 sought after prize,' said Gaythorne, 
 lightly, as if for him prizes were un- 
 known quantities. 
 
 ' Yes, and I know there are so few 
 disinterested men.' 
 
 ' Very few.' Gaythorne smiled. 
 
 ' And those few are easily recognized. 7 
 
 ' Good heavens !' thought Gaythorne, 
 4 she can't mean me ! Is it a trap laid 
 for me V But his courage never forsook 
 him, and he answered, 
 
 4 1 don't know. A man who is insen-
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 179 
 
 sible to money must have some very 
 strong motive to despise wealth ; unless 
 indeed he is already a millionaire.' 
 
 ' Some men find that they get on as 
 well without money as with it,' said Lucy, 
 thoughtfully. i In your ease, for instance, 
 Mr. Greenwood, no one knows or cares if 
 you are rich or poor.' 
 
 ' I have not jet made acquaintance with 
 the bankruptcy court,' said Gaythorne 
 Greenwood, laughing pleasantly. His 
 manner was like that of a man whose 
 substantial balance at his banker's helps 
 him to laugh about improbable poverty. 
 
 c I shall indeed be happy if Sara can 
 ever find disinterested affection. At 
 present ' 
 
 At this moment Mr. Greenwood felt 
 secretly disconcerted. What was the 
 widow's meaning? He could not im- 
 agine that she really wished to accept 
 
 n 2
 
 180 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 him as the lover of the heiress. His 
 wildest hopes had not allowed him to 
 foresee such an easy victory. He had 
 great belief in his own discernment, and 
 was, therefore, not much pleased to find 
 that he had c lost the trail.' 
 
 c At present do you think disinterested 
 affection like the philosopher's stone, purely 
 a product of the imagination?' 
 
 4 1 thought so till ' Lucy broke off, 
 
 but she slowly lifted her eyes and looked 
 gently at Mr. Greenwood. 
 
 c No,' he said to himself, and mentally 
 addressing her, c you cannot really make 
 me believe that you have discovered that 
 unhndable individual in me. The charm- 
 ing Sara would find a hundred lovers 
 more disinterested than Gaythorne Green- 
 wood, who is at his wit's end for money.' 
 The very idea made his undefined and 
 smouldering hopes burst into flame. He
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 181 
 
 ran through a whole labyrinth of possi- 
 bilities. So doing he forgot to answer 
 Mrs. Beddoes's last remark, and she con- 
 tinued, 
 
 ' No one has ever accused you of for- 
 tune-hunting, Mr. Greenwood.' 
 
 1 If you do not, that is enough for me.' 
 
 1 If only I could believe that Sara would 
 ever find a lover as disinterested as you 
 are, I should ' 
 
 4 She will have no difficulty in doing 
 that,' said Mr. Greenwood, with a mental 
 smile. 
 
 ' Because ?' 
 
 Mr. Greenwood was simply amazed at 
 the words which fell from the lips of 
 Mrs. Beddoes. 
 
 ' Because there must be many more who 
 feel as anxious as I do to take care of her 
 interests.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know it,' said Lucy very softly,
 
 182 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 and without looking up, c but you must be 
 very, very tender with her ; you must not 
 frighten her, she is very young.' 
 
 c I place myself entirely in your hands.' 
 
 Gaythorne felt as if he were acting a 
 play. 
 
 c You are very good.' 
 
 She looked straight at him now, and Gay- 
 thorne Greenwood was utterly at a loss to 
 imagine whether he had taken her in or 
 whether she had deceived him. He only 
 realized that the faint hopes he had nursed 
 of securing Sara's fortune were unexpect- 
 edly encouraged by her own mother, and 
 not only encouraged, but, as it were, 
 hurried to maturity. This piece of good 
 fortune appeared so much like the delusion 
 of a wild dream that he doubted his own 
 identity. For one moment he fancied that 
 the widow had taken a personal liking to 
 himself and was working through her
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 183 
 
 daughter; but no, that again seemed im- 
 possible. If she wished to marry again, 
 and to marry him — his vanity not making 
 the wish seem at all unnatural — she would 
 hardly bait him with a fortune whose 
 magnitude was the subject of common gos- 
 sip. On the other hand, did she plan that 
 a very easy-going husband would willing- 
 ly share all Sara's good things with her ? 
 He mentally pulled himself together, and 
 tried to judge wisely. He had several 
 times tried to win an heiress, but the 
 parents had never been cordial when Mr. 
 Greenwood's affairs had been even partially 
 examined. 
 
 ' If you even thought me worthy to take 
 care of one of the most charming women 
 
 I have met ,' he began, and then he 
 
 wondered whether he really meant Sara or 
 her mother. 
 
 4 Worthy ? Why, Mr. Greenwood, if
 
 184 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 there is a man I have heard well spoken 
 of, it is you.' 
 
 c And are you willing to accept the 
 verdict of society?' 
 
 ' I know of no better test.' 
 
 ; Good heavens F he thought, c as if society 
 believed its own verdicts ! No, the widow 
 is not so deep as 1 expected, she is a sim- 
 pleton, and is taken in by my fictitious 
 reputation.' 
 
 1 Your judgment will weigh with Miss 
 Beddoes, 1 know, and also I hope with her 
 strange guardian.' 
 
 Lucy's foot gave a silent tap on the 
 carpet. 
 
 1 He is indeed a strange man. It is a 
 great misfortune to Sara to have that 
 legacy left to her.' 
 
 ' Well, of course, he in a strange fish ; 
 still, I assure you, Mrs. Beddoes, that 
 society has received him uncommonly
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 185 
 
 kindly. You see, originality goes for 
 something.' 
 
 c With those "who have no connection 
 with it.' 
 
 Gaythorne laughed. He certainly felt 
 much more interest in Mrs. Beddoes than 
 in Sara, but that was merely a personal 
 matter and not worthy of consideration. 
 At this moment there was a sound of cab 
 wheels. They stopped at the door. Mrs. 
 Beddoes rose and stood by Gaythorne, who 
 came a step nearer to her. He was a very 
 handsome man and his personal appearance 
 was extremely pleasant to the eyes. 
 
 ' That must be Sara — and the guardian ! 
 He is entirely devoid of tact.' 
 
 1 Quite a common failing, I assure you. 
 The exceptions are to be highly prized.' 
 
 He looked down on the soft hair and 
 pretty neck. There was a pause. Lucy 
 stooped down over her embroidery frame
 
 186 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 and fastened an idle needle securely. Gay- 
 thorne thought that she looked like one 
 ofWatteau's figures, so graceful was her 
 outline and so enchanting the locks that 
 curled above the neck. Suddenly she rose 
 and came close to him. 
 
 1 Thank you very much, Mr. Greenwood. 
 We understand each other, don't we?' 
 
 c Indeed we do,' was his answer, followed 
 by the mental words, c indeed we don't.' 
 
 ' You will try to win Sara's love so 
 that she may return your disinterested 
 affection ?' 
 
 Again he staggered, again he wondered 
 which of them was playing a part. 
 
 ' I shall be entirely guided by you.' 
 
 c You will succeed if you try. Failure 
 and Gaythorne Greenwood are strangers to 
 each other.' 
 
 ' Ah, if that were so !'
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 187 
 
 ' I know it. — You have lifted a heavy 
 weight from my mind.' 
 
 There was no time for more. The door 
 opened, and the radiant Sara walked into 
 the room followed by her guardian. 
 
 4 Mother dear, we have had the most de- 
 lightful morning ! I never in all my life 
 enjoyed myself so much.' 
 
 1 I am afraid you have kept Mr. Green- 
 wood waiting for luncheon, Sara.' 
 
 c "Will you forgive me, Mr. Greenwood? 
 If you had been to the Tower and to the 
 People's Palace ' 
 
 c Of course I should share your present 
 enthusiasm ! As it is, we have been sigh- 
 ing for your return. Was this your first 
 sight of our ancient prison, Mr. Cobbin ?' 
 
 ' I must own to sharing Miss Sara's de- 
 light, but the armour struck me as being 
 too small for full-grown Englishmen.'
 
 188 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 1 We were minors in those days, we had 
 not reached man's estate.' 
 
 'Too much prison fare,' said Cobbin, 
 laughing loudly. 
 
 Lucy winced. 
 
 ' We go farther and fare worse,' said 
 Mr. Greenwood, with a brilliant smile. 
 
 ' Did you fare worse this morning, Miss 
 Sara?' 
 
 Sara blushed, but hid her blushes in a 
 bunch of flowers which she carried in her 
 hand, and which Percival had just given 
 to her. 
 
 ' Mr. Greenwood is going to drive with 
 us this afternoon,' said Mrs. Beddoes ; and 
 Mr. Cobbin felt himself dismissed. 
 
 When he left the house after luncheon, 
 Sara ran down the stairs with him. 
 
 1 Guardian, I'll tell mother how much 
 we enjoyed ourselves to-day, and to-morrow 
 will you '
 
 UNEXPECTED LUCK. 189 
 
 ' I'll come to-morrow, Miss Sara, and 
 hear the news.' 
 
 He shook her hand cordially. 
 
 c Yes, do, please. Oh, Guardian, I'm so 
 happy.' 
 
 c That's right, Miss Sara. By Jenkyns, 
 you look it too !' 
 
 1 1 wish Mr. Greenwood would go, but — ' 
 
 c Shall we meet Mr. Osborne to-morrow, 
 Miss Sara ?' 
 
 4 Of course we shall. Good-bye.'
 
 190 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 
 
 That evening the two ladies returned from 
 a ball at which Sara had danced several 
 times with Mr. Greenwood. She loved 
 dancing, and her mother had invited Mr. 
 Greenwood to go with them, so that Sara's 
 pleasure and her duty had gone hand in 
 hand. She was radiant, and in consequence 
 she looked twice as beautiful as she had 
 done a week ago. There was a fire in 
 Mrs. Beddoes's room, for the night was 
 chilly. The maid retired as Sara knocked 
 at her mother's door.
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 191 
 
 ' Mother, I've not seen you alone one 
 minute since this morning. Darling, how 
 pretty you look! Oh, I wish it were you.' 
 
 Sara, arrayed in a pale-green dressing- 
 gown, sank down on a stool at her mother's 
 feet. Her complexion was like delicate 
 porcelain, though slightly marred by 
 freckles. The brows, delicately marked 
 out by light-brown eyebrows, gave an in- 
 describable softness to the face. Sara 
 appeared suddenly to have grown older, 
 and to be a woman to-night. Her mother 
 remarked it in silence. 
 
 ' You wish what, Sara?' 
 
 ' That you had really known what happi- 
 ness means. You told ine, don't you re- 
 member ? that you did not marry for love. 
 How cruel of your father to make you ! 
 Do tell me about it; but first, mother, I 
 must tell you he loves me.' 
 
 Mrs. Beddoes gave a little start.
 
 192 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Loves you? Did lie tell you so to- 
 night ?' 
 
 1 To-night ? How could he ?' 
 
 c When you were dancing.' 
 
 c Oh, he wasn't there.' 
 
 4 Not there ! Mr. Greenwood !' 
 
 ' Mr. Greenwood ! That very clever, 
 fashionable Mr. Greenwood ! What an 
 idea! No, mother, Mr. Osborne.' 
 
 c Mr. Osborne ! Sara, what do you 
 mean?' Lucy did not smile at all, and 
 Sara suddenly felt that something was 
 wrong. 
 
 ' I forgot, you haven't any idea of it. 
 I believe it was really love at first sight 
 on both sides, mother. It was at the 
 Walesbury Ball which I went to with 
 Herringham and Virginia. My first ball, 
 mother. Percival had gone with some 
 neighbours, and he says that ' 
 
 c Do you mean Lord Stretton's son,
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 193 
 
 Percival Osborne, the young man who 
 came here?' 
 
 1 Of course I do. Are there two Mr. 
 Osbornes?' Sara was a little disconcerted. 
 
 4 You are talking nonsense, Sara. Lord 
 Stretton would never dream of letting his 
 son marry you.' 
 
 4 Why not? Oh, he is very fond of 
 his son.' 
 
 'Is he ? All the more reason. Be- 
 sides, Sara, unless he wishes to marry you 
 for the money that is coming, I am sure 
 there is nothing in it.' 
 
 4 But, indeed, mother, indeed you don't 
 understand. Percival is — oh, he will 
 come, and you will know. Of course I 
 know it is wonderful, but what is more 
 wonderful is that my money has made no 
 earthly difference to him.' 
 
 4 My dear Sara, you are too young and 
 too innocent. Do you believe this?' 
 
 vol. i. o
 
 194 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 'Believe it — why not?' Sara's face 
 grew deadly pale. 
 
 ' Because you do not understand life at 
 all. Lord Stretton will never give his 
 consent. I know him well.' 
 
 L You know him ? You have never 
 mentioned him.' 
 
 1 1 met him when I was your age at the 
 same ball.' 
 
 c But he didn't fall in love with you ! 
 That makes all the difference ! But in- 
 deed, mother dear, Percival is a man you 
 will be very fond of.' 
 
 ' Sara, you know I have had a sad life. 
 It would be sadder still if I had not learnt 
 much from experience. To save you 
 foolish sorrow, let me tell you at once 
 that you will never be the future Lady 
 Stretton.' 
 
 ' I don't care a farthing about that, but 
 I shall be Mrs. Osborne.'
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 195 
 
 4 Never, Sara.' 
 
 Mrs. Bedcloes rose slowly and leant her 
 elbow on the mantelpiece. As she did 
 so, she faced a looking-glass and gazed 
 at her own reflection. Sara, still sitting 
 on the stool, her hands clasped round her 
 knees, looked strangely natural in com- 
 parison with her mother. She laughed 
 now. 
 
 4 Who can prevent it ? Percival is as 
 good as gold, — besides, we can wait. If 
 his father scorns us, Percival never will. 
 Of course we were poor, and the money 
 is a mere chance, but Percival said his 
 father would come and see you.' 
 
 The face which was studying its own 
 expression saw a slight contraction of 
 the brows, and the lips were firmly press- 
 ed together. It was a beautiful, womanly 
 woman Mrs. Becldoes was looking at. 
 
 4 You think you are in love. "When I 
 
 o 2
 
 196 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 was young I was like you, I believed a 
 foolish thing, but I assure you it will 
 wear off.' 
 
 Sara gave a little cry. 
 
 ' Oh, mother, you have not been happy, 
 you don't understand, but I believe that 
 even now you could learn happiness.' 
 
 4 No daughter of mine shall marry into 
 a family that does not welcome her. I 
 know only too well what that means.' 
 
 ' I am sure you are wrong, mother. 
 Lord Stretton is very good-natured. He 
 is easily persuaded by Percival. His 
 sister Clara isn't very amiable, I fancy, 
 though Percival didn't say so ; but she 
 can have nothing to do with our love.' 
 
 ' Lord Stretton will never give his con- 
 sent, Sara, and without it you shall not 
 marry his son.' 
 
 Sara rose to her feet. Her face was pale, 
 her hands trembled, she could not realize
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 197 
 
 much except that Lord Stretton must be a 
 very wicked man. 
 
 c Percival will come to-morrow,' she said, 
 not knowing much what else to say. 
 
 ' Sara, I must say it again, you are very 
 young. I have wished to save you real 
 pain by telling you at once. Don't you 
 believe me when I assure you that it is 
 wisest and best to turn your mind at once 
 from this — affair. There is another man 
 who, from the highest and most disin- 
 terested motives, is unwilling to tell you 
 of his love — I promised to do it for him.' 
 
 c Another !' said Sara, scornfully. 
 
 c Yes — Mr. Greenwood loves you. You 
 are indeed fortunate to have attracted such 
 a thorough gentleman, and such a very 
 clever, good ' 
 
 c Mother! What nonsense! Mr. Green- 
 wood wouldn't care a scrap about me.' 
 
 ' He does, he loves you.'
 
 198 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 1 Well, I'm sorry — of course you will tell 
 him so, tell him about Percival.' 
 
 1 Sara, you will tire me out. I am very 
 weary. Go to bed, dear, and think better 
 of all this by the morning.' 
 
 c Mother, you don't understand. We — 
 we — are engaged.' 
 
 c Indeed, you are not engaged. Lord 
 Stretton will never allow such an engage- 
 ment, neither shall I.' 
 
 ' Mother, mother dear, you don't mean 
 it?' 
 
 c I do certainly — unless Lord Stretton 
 allows it.' 
 
 Sara smiled. 
 
 c Oh ! but I know he will, so I won't 
 make myself unhappy. Good-night, mother.' 
 
 Sara stooped a little and put her face 
 against Lucy's soft contour. Suddenly the 
 young girl burst into tears.
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 199 
 
 ' Silly child — good-night. Don't be so — 
 so — young.' 
 
 ' I am silly. Of course it's all right. 
 Lord Stretton will allow it ! Why shouldn't 
 he?' 
 
 In consequence of various interruptions 
 and other causes it was about the same 
 time in the evening that Percival was able 
 to get hold of his father to announce the 
 same news to him. Lord Stretton had 
 come early from the club, feeling slightly 
 tired with life in general, when he was met 
 by Percival's request. 
 
 1 Come into the library, father. I want 
 a word with you.' 
 
 c Certainly, my boy. What is it ? Has 
 Clara made London too gloomy for you ?' 
 
 4 I am afraid Clara is dull, but it isn't 
 that. I ought — no, I mean, you know that 
 I met Miss Beddoes the other day ? Well,
 
 200 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 I met her again to-day and proposed to 
 her.' Percival brought out his news at 
 once. 
 
 1 Proposed to Miss Becldoes ! Good 
 heavens ! You, Percival, — the girl will be 
 a gold-mine, they say.' 
 
 c Yes, she hasn't got her money yet. It 
 will be nearly a year before she really 
 comes into her fortune, but I want you 
 to ' 
 
 c To give my consent?' Lord Stretton 
 laughed a little. c Certainly it is startling 
 news. Clara mustn't hear it. She will 
 think that you are heartless, considering 
 your deep mourning.' 
 
 ' Yes, I fear she will, but indeed it isn't 
 that. I fell in love at first sight at the 
 Walesbury ball, and I was only waiting to 
 take my degree before telling you and her 
 my feelings about it.' 
 
 1 That's why we heard nothing more of
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 201 
 
 Oxford ! Well, it's a pity, Percival.' 
 1 No — indeed that was not the reason, 
 but say you will give your consent. You 
 will ' 
 
 c Consent ! Has she accepted ?' 
 
 ' Yes, sir. Of course I think that she is 
 quite the nicest girl on earth. If it wasn't 
 that I know a heap of fellows will be after 
 her money I would have waited to propose 
 to her.' 
 
 c Then in your eyes money is no 
 object?' 
 
 c Of course not, father. I know that at 
 present I am dependent upon you, but in 
 the future ' 
 
 1 The estate does not yield sevenfold, 
 but certainly I never counted upon your 
 marrying a mine of wealth, Percival, but 
 as it is ' 
 
 c It will be useful ?' said Percival, smil- 
 ing. ' However, in these days women can
 
 202 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 have control over their money, so we need 
 not be accused of base desires.' 
 
 c The deuce they have,' muttered Lord 
 Stretton, remembering many scenes be- 
 tween himself and his wife on this very 
 subject. 
 
 ; Sara Beddoes has not one sordid idea 
 in her nature.' 
 
 ' Humph ! Well, I only know that ui} r 
 ideas of happiness would not centre round 
 a marriage with an heiress. But if this 
 girl is willing, I suppose that there is 
 nothing ' 
 
 c Even Clara can't find a fault with her, 
 I'm sure of that,' said Percival, smiling. 
 c She is not a regular beauty, but as near 
 one as possible. She is tall, she has a 
 splendid figure, and auburn hair, but it is 
 the expression of her face that beats every- 
 thing. I am sure that you will love her 
 for her own sake.'
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 203 
 
 Lord Stretton rose and walked up and 
 down the room for a few minutes. He 
 seemed plunged in deep thought, and 
 Percival, wondering, waited patiently. 
 
 'What clo you want me to do, Percival?* 
 
 1 I should like you to go and see Mrs. 
 Beddoes and sound her. She may think 
 me too poor.' 
 
 ' But you two seem to have settled it all. 
 Is there any necessity that I should see 
 her mother?' 
 
 Percival gazed at his father with a look 
 of surprise ; then he remembered that as 
 they were all in deep mourning his father 
 would naturally object to its being known 
 that he was negociating a marriage for his 
 only son. 
 
 c No one need know, sir ; I shall tell Sara 
 that ' 
 
 4 You would rather I went to see her 
 mother.'
 
 204 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Certainly, it would be better; you see, 
 Mrs. Beddoes might misinterpret your 
 non-appearance.' 
 
 Lord Stretton again answered nothing 
 for a few moments, then he said, 
 
 c I wonder if she would ?' 
 
 L You could say that owing to our deep 
 mourning, nothing must be made public 
 for some time.' 
 
 ' Yes, of course. Still I wish your choice 
 had fallen on any other girl.' 
 
 ' Because of the gold-mine ?' 
 
 Lord Stretton sat down in the great 
 leathern arm-chair, and this time there was 
 a smile upon his face. 
 
 'Well, yes— I'll go.' 
 
 ' Of course I can't go into society now, 
 but ' 
 
 ' Oh ! an engagement blots out many 
 rules.' 
 
 1 But it will be a secret, sir.' 
 
 c From Clara ?'
 
 GO-BETWEENS. 205 
 
 c You must judge of that. Clara might 
 be hurt.' 
 
 ' In any case I fear she will be. Poor 
 Clara.' 
 
 4 Wish me joy, father,' said Percival, 
 after a moment's pause. 
 
 c Joy ! joy ! — of course I do, Percival — 
 Forgive me for the omission. In con- 
 nection with marriage I have never known 
 the meaning of the word, so I — I forgot it 
 existed.' 
 
 At this moment Percival suddenly re- 
 membered his position, he remembered his 
 mother's command. 
 
 c I wish I could marry at once. There 
 would then be less chance of his ever 
 seeing that woman,' he thought. c A 
 daughter-in-law would make the place 
 cheerful for him. Poor father.' 
 
 c You have had your children,' he said, 
 in a low voice.
 
 206 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Yes — you, Percival, have always been 
 a bright spot in my life. Clara is more 
 like her mother.' 
 
 1 Sara will make you forget sadness. 
 She has the best kind of high spirits.' 
 
 ' She is perfect, eh ! Percival?'
 
 207 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A REFUSAL. 
 
 Sara had not been born with a complex 
 character, neither had the events of her 
 life developed one for her. She possessed 
 a nature at once so open and so bright 
 that she never, of her own accord, per- 
 ceived the dark side of any question. 
 "Why should she ? She had till now 
 woven dreams of happiness with as much 
 ease as a spider spins a web. The happy, 
 if somewhat lonely, family life at Chapel 
 Stacey had contributed to keep her mind 
 and her ideas pure of modern fallacies
 
 208 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 and of modern doubts, and her strong 
 affection for her fellow-creatures had 
 helped to make her own life beautiful. 
 She had not looked much below the sur- 
 face, because the surface had amply suf- 
 ficed her. 
 
 But this morning, when she woke up, 
 her first thought was that there was a 
 little cloud marring the sunshine of her 
 life. Suddenly yesterday's events flashed 
 into her mind, and she did not know 
 whether to be most happy concerning 
 Percival's love, or most unhappy with 
 regard to her mother's strange words. 
 Hopefulness carried the clay, however ; 
 she loved and was loved. Her mother 
 had only seen the dark side of things, 
 because her married life had not been 
 happy. 
 
 For all these reasons it was the same 
 happy Sara, though one slightly more
 
 A REFUSAL. 209 
 
 thoughtful, who appeared in the break- 
 fast-room. On the table lay her first 
 love-letter, and her mother, who was 
 making: tea, cast a glance at it as she saw 
 Sara's cheeks flush crimson, and Sara's 
 fingers tremble a little as she opened 
 it. 
 
 It was a very short and a very loving 
 note, and Sara's mind threw off the last 
 shade of doubt. 
 
 ' Mother, it's all right ! Percival could 
 not write like that if his father objected.' 
 
 1 Has he asked him?' 
 
 c He was only waiting for an oppor- 
 tunity ; he was going to beg him to call 
 on you.' 
 
 1 I would advise you, Sara, to put the 
 subject away till Lord Stretton has called. 
 Mr. Greenwood is coming to luncheon.' 
 
 ' Why should he? Of course, mother, 
 it is just as you like, indeed it is difficult 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 210 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 to be agreeable when one's mind is dread- 
 fully preoccupied. Anyhow, I will go 
 out shopping with Guardian this morning. 
 Every day he has new and delightful ideas 
 about the requirements of ladies.' 
 
 c I wish he would return to his gold- 
 mine. It is very inconvenient having 
 him always on our hands.' Lucy's voice 
 for the first time had a little impatient 
 ring in it. 
 
 c I like him so much,' answered Sara, 
 laughing". 4 Oh ! here is a letter from 
 Virginia, she says she cannot afford to 
 come and see us. I am afraid uncle is 
 worried about the land. Oh ! mother, 
 let's go and spend some time with them — 
 in July, when all the hills are delicious. 
 How strange it is to be free to come and 
 go. I think that Chapel Stacey is the 
 place I love most on earth.'
 
 A EEFUSAL. 211 
 
 c I have never been there since I left 
 it. But now, yes, I should like to see 
 it again,' said Mrs. Beddoes, meditatively. 
 
 ; Why now more than last year, mother? 
 Do you remember how much Aunt Lil 
 begged you to come, but you never 
 would?' 
 
 c No, I never would.' 
 
 When her guardian came Sara was 
 ready equipped. She felt unable to sit 
 still till all was really settled. 
 
 4 Where shall we go, Miss Sara?' said 
 Jethro Cobbin, looking with admiration 
 at his ward. c Is it an appointment 
 to-day ?' 
 
 4 Oh, let's go anywhere you like, Guard- 
 ian. I have no appointment.' 
 
 4 Not with Mr. Osborne?' and Jethro 
 seemed to be quite disappointed. 
 
 ' It is no use hiding it from you. You 
 
 p 2
 
 212 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 know — well, mother says that Lord Stret- 
 ton won't hear of it, but I don't think that 
 it can be true.' 
 
 1 Lord Stretton won't hear of it ! I'm 
 beggared ! And why not ?' 
 
 'Why not? That's what I say. We 
 care about each other, and I am not deaf, 
 or blind, or lame.' 
 
 c You're first-class, Miss Sara. You'll 
 be first-class rich, too.' 
 
 c The Osbornes are a very old family, 
 but my father was nobody in particular. 
 I think his father was a county doctor, 
 but the Gwillians have lived years and 
 years on their own land. Still, Percival 
 won't care about all that. He wouldn't 
 mind if I were a sweep's daughter.' 
 
 ' He's the right sort, his heart's where 
 it should be, Miss Sara.' 
 
 The bright smile Sara gave him was 
 like sunshine to Jethro.
 
 A REFUSAL. 213 
 
 1 That's just what I think, Guardian. 
 We don't know much of each other, but 
 the first moment I saw him I liked him, 
 and it was the same with him. It does 
 seem foolish to think one can love at first 
 sight, but so it was. I know I could help 
 him. He must work hard and get into 
 Parliament and become famous. He likes 
 me to know things, and oh ! Guardian, he 
 likes you. You shall come and live with 
 us, and we'll do something nice with all 
 the money. Build a hospital or something 
 useful. I know what it is to want money, 
 so I can help people.' 
 
 ' If you don't mind we'll go and see a 
 labour home this morning,' said Cobbin. 
 c I want to see how they carry on those 
 things here. There are too many people 
 in the world, that's the truth, and yet 
 over there we often couldn't get men for 
 the diggings, no, not for love or money.'
 
 214 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ; We'll have a labour home, then, and 
 any man who begs shall be given work. 
 I shall like doing that. I wish I were of 
 age,' and Sara, ignorant of the difficulties 
 of doing good, saw the whole world re- 
 formed by the help of her gold-mine. 
 
 This morning, therefore, she enjoyed go- 
 ing over the labour home in Whitechapel 
 Road. She spoke to those who were 
 making ropes, and chattered to a poor 
 semblance of a man who was splitting 
 wood. She was like a ray of sunshine 
 among them, but Jethro's questions were 
 more practical, and Sara's views about 
 labour and capital were certainly widened 
 that morning. All the while, however, 
 there was an underlying thought in her 
 mind : 
 
 c Has Lord Stretton called on mother?' 
 
 Sara's impatience was, nevertheless, as 
 water unto wine when compared with that
 
 A REFUSAL. 215 
 
 of her mother. That morning Mrs. Bed- 
 does also woke up with the mental question, 
 8 Will he come ?' When she saw Percival's 
 note her lips were for a moment com- 
 pressed, then the colour also flushed her 
 face as she said to herself, l He will come.' 
 When Sara went out Lucy breathed more 
 freely. She ordered luncheon with great 
 care. Mr. Greenwood was coming to 
 luncheon, and she knew that he was an 
 epicure. Through this power of observa- 
 tion she seemed born for society, which 
 likes to be studied; but Lucy, having mixed 
 but little in the beau monde, by instinct took 
 it quite naturally. 
 
 At eleven o'clock Lucy Bedcloes went 
 upstairs to change her morning-gown for 
 one of soft, rich silk. The delicate tulle 
 round the throat added, she knew, a touch 
 of softness very captivating to the outward 
 eye of man. Then from the depth of a
 
 216 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 humble jewel-box she drew forth a little 
 brooch, in the centre of which was an. opal 
 set round about with small diamonds. The 
 trinket was very pretty, and possessed 
 some value, but when most in need of 
 money Lucy had never sold it. She now 
 fastened it near her throat, and then she 
 again went downstairs to work at the 
 stole. 
 
 Quiet as she looked outwardly, her heart 
 was beating very fast. She was mentally 
 reviewing the past, and many conflicting 
 and strange thoughts were surging in the 
 ocean of her mind. Now and then from 
 the depth of this emotion a smile parted 
 her lips, but this smile referred to the 
 present, not to the past. 
 
 c It is my turn now,' she thought, c my 
 turn, and why should I have pity? I 
 have none for them and none for him, 
 none.'
 
 A REFUSAL. 217 
 
 She said this last word softly aloud as 
 she edged the red cross with a thread of 
 gold. Her stole was becoming a thing of 
 beauty. She had nearly finished border 
 ing her pattern when the door bell rang. 
 Lucy glanced at the clock. It was a 
 quarter to twelve, and she had ordered 
 luncheon at two o'clock. She breathed a 
 soft sigh of relief, 
 
 1 1 have time,' she said, ' ample time, but 
 Sara may come in.' 
 
 Lumb opened the door and announced 
 ' Lord Stretton.' 
 
 Under the brightest auspices it is im- 
 possible to meet a friend whom we have 
 not seen nor written to for many years 
 without a feeling of trepidation. But 
 if it so happens that the whole tenor 
 of our life has been changed through the 
 action of that person, then the meeting 
 must of necessity be extremely interesting
 
 218 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 from a psychological point of view, and 
 will lead to strange recollections on both, 
 sides. For these two, Lord Stretton and 
 Lucy Beddoes, this meeting was intensely 
 strange and bewildering. 
 
 The tall, well-made, handsome man, 
 whom it was impossible to mistake for 
 anything but an English gentleman, and 
 whom a stranger would at once ment- 
 ally have placed among the English 
 aristocracy, stopped short after he had 
 taken a few steps into the room. Lumb 
 quickly closed the door, and the two were 
 left alone before a word was spoken. Lucy 
 had at once risen from her embroidery, but 
 she had stooped to secure her needle be- 
 fore she very slightly pushed back her 
 chair and rose to meet her visitor. That 
 pause, slight as it was, had brought a 
 bright colour into the widow's face, add- 
 ing new beauty to its calm attractiveness.
 
 A REFUSAL. 219 
 
 Her intense excitement was forcibly 
 stilled, but it was at the cost of a supreme 
 and painful effort. She could not have 
 risen a moment before she did, for her 
 limbs trembled beneath her. During Lord 
 Stretton's pause, however, she regained 
 control over herself, and very slowly she 
 took a step towards him. On his side he 
 found himself constrained to break the 
 silence, for was not he the intruder ? This 
 woman, and, as he saw at a glance, this 
 beautiful woman, beautiful because every 
 movement was perfect and every curve 
 pleasing, had never written to invite him 
 to come, she had never spoken to him 
 since . . . The past also flooded his memory, 
 and he felt humbled before her. It had 
 been his mother's doing, he had been worked 
 upon to give her up. The family pride, the 
 family poverty had all been urged upon 
 him, and he had basely given in. He had
 
 220 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 forsaken the woman he loved and the 
 woman who loved him, and he had married 
 an heiress. Never aword had Lucy spoken 
 to him since, never a line had she sent him ; 
 but he asked himself, had she ever known 
 how fully she had been avenged? Lord 
 Stretton could not answer this question. 
 He would, at this moment, have given 
 much to know the answer, but this was 
 impossible. He was the culprit, and he had 
 come to plead for himself; that is, if she 
 would allow him to do so. Without the 
 excuse of Percival's love-story he would 
 never have come, and now a strong wish 
 took hold of him to tell her that the blame 
 was not all his, but would she listen ? The 
 past could not be recalled. Most likely 
 she hated and despised him, whilst on his 
 side, and for his own punishment, he had 
 always loved her memory. Indeed, look- 
 ing at her now, still so young and so
 
 A REFUSAL. 221 
 
 beautiful, he felt tha.t he still loved her. It 
 was true that her image had with time be- 
 come slightly blurred, now all the old love 
 seemed to reawaken ; most likely she would 
 never let him tell her that though it was 
 too late to blot out the sins of his youth, 
 yet her forgiveness would still be very 
 sweet to him. She was a pure, beautiful 
 goddess, he a very erring man, a man who, 
 having forsaken the woman he had loved, 
 had never had enough courage or power 
 over himself to make the woman he had 
 married happy. Worse, in moments when 
 he had been driven to desperation by his 
 wife's violent temper, he had cruelly pro- 
 claimed his indifference. 
 
 A man seldom likes to own that he has 
 failed without benefit of doubt orpossibility 
 of sympathy, and Lord Stretton was not an 
 exception, but he had so much that was 
 good and so much that was noble in his
 
 222 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 nature that it was no part of his pro- 
 gramme to exonerate himself to Lucy. 
 
 He had come there meaning to behave 
 in a formal, business-like manner, but sud- 
 denly he found himself in the presence of 
 a woman whose attractive power was as 
 great, if not greater, than in the first blush 
 of her youth. 
 
 6 I did not send up my name,' said Lord 
 Stretton, making the plunge in a low tone 
 and without further preface, c because I 
 thought that perhaps you might not receive 
 me, and it is really necessary that I should 
 see you about my son Percival's affairs.' 
 
 Lucy did not hold out her hand, but she 
 half motioned her visitor to a chair facing 
 the light, whilst she herself sank quietly 
 upon a low settee, with her back to the 
 window. She wanted to see every feature 
 of his face. She had thought so often of 
 this moment, she had longed for it — only
 
 A REFUSAL. 223 
 
 as some natures can long for what seems 
 impossible ; and now that her wish was rea- 
 lized, she felt as if she must not forget her 
 true object. Lord Stretton had changed more 
 than she had, this was her first thought ; 
 his hair was well sprinkled with grey, his 
 eyes were bordered by several crows'-feet, 
 and his forehead was no longer smooth ; 
 but in spite of all this he was the same 
 man she had loved with the wild passionate 
 love of unrestrained youth. 
 
 1 About your son ?' she said, in a soft low 
 tone. 
 
 c Yes, about my son, my only son, you 
 know. He has — it is very strange, con- 
 sidering it was far from our minds — he has 
 fallen in love with your daughter.' 
 
 As he spoke he hardly thought of his 
 words ; he too was gazing at the past, as 
 viewed in the present exquisite outline 
 of Lucy Beddoes.
 
 224 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 4 Yes, I know.' 
 
 4 1 promised Percival to come and see 
 you. He is a good fellow. I think you 
 might trust any woman's happiness with 
 him.' 
 
 Lucy laughed softly. 
 
 c That is a great deal to promise for a 
 man,' she said ; and Lord Stretton winced, 
 for all his fears returned to him. 
 
 ' Yes, I know it is, but Percival is — not 
 like — his father.' 
 
 1 Is he like his mother?' she asked, gent- 
 ly ; but the irony of her tone could not be 
 hidden. 
 
 Lord Stretton was silent. Terrible as 
 his mistake had been, especially in its 
 results, his nature was too noble to speak 
 one word, or even to utter an assent, 
 against the dead. What he had suffered 
 was at present hidden from outsiders, but 
 on the other hand he was too just to
 
 A REFUSAL. 225 
 
 blame Lucy for her tone of bitterness. 
 She too had suffered. The silence was 
 painful, and again Lucy forced him to 
 break it. 
 
 4 We must forget the past, we must put 
 it away from us.' 
 
 Lucy looked up slowly. It was the 
 look that had captivated her lovers, and 
 Lord Stretton was more easily influenced 
 than they were, for he had never really 
 ceased to care for her. 
 
 4 It is easy for you to say that,' she said, 
 dreamily, as if she were awaking from a 
 dream. 
 
 ' Why easy for me ?' 
 
 4 You have had many interests. Your 
 children too have filled up your thoughts. ' 
 
 4 And your daughter has ' 
 
 4 1 have seen very little of Sara.' 
 
 4 Well, but now we must help the young 
 people to be happy.' 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ' I cannot help them.' 
 
 ' You cannot?' 
 
 Lord Stretton rose and moved a few 
 steps nearer to Lucy. The strange at- 
 tractive power, very strongly developed 
 in some women, and which Lucy pos- 
 sessed to an extraordinary degree, made 
 him feel inclined to forget his mis- 
 sion and to think only of her, but out- 
 wardly Lucy did not move at all. Her 
 taper fingers were loosely clasped, her 
 long, black skirt lay in soft folds upon the 
 carpet, and Lord Stretton was conscious 
 that it was close to him, even touching his 
 foot. Then recollecting himself he moved 
 away and leant against the chimney-piece. 
 He had come for Percival's sake, not for 
 his own. 
 
 Lucy spoke in the same low tones. 
 
 4 No, Sara has another lover, one in 
 every way suitable. She is not of the
 
 A REFUSAL. 227 
 
 same rank as your son. her father's con- 
 nections are not even as good as were the 
 Gwillians.' 
 
 Lord Stretton scattered conventionality 
 to the winds as he answered, 
 
 ' Won't you forget the past, Lucy, at all 
 events for your child's sake?' He said 
 this ben din 2* forward a little. 
 
 8 1 am only recalling a fact to your 
 mind, Lord Stretton.' 
 
 ' My son knows nothing, absolutely 
 nothing of the past. He fell in love with 
 your child at a public ball. I knew 
 nothing about it. It was love at first 
 sight. He says she returns it. Birth has 
 nothing to do with such decided inclina- 
 tion. If she had not a penny I should 
 still be here pleading for him. Lucy — for 
 your child's sake forget the past.' 
 
 Lucy rose too, now. She felt less 
 strong of purpose, for Lord Stretton's 
 
 Q2
 
 228 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 tone was full of tenderness. He had twice 
 called her by her name. The sound 
 thrilled through her as of old. She remem- 
 bered how passionately she had loved him 
 years ago. It was the remembrance that 
 melted her, but not the feeling itself, she 
 said. 
 
 c You are very kind, Lord Stretton, to 
 come here, and you have done it for the 
 sake of your son. You want me to ac- 
 cept your decision for love of my daughter. 
 I can only tell you that that argument has 
 no weight with me.' 
 
 c No weight with you ?' 
 
 c Rather because she is my daughter she 
 shall never be exposed to ' 
 
 ' Lucy !' 
 
 He suddenly took her hands in his and 
 stooped forward. The old love, tenfold in 
 strength, had returned, but she quickly 
 drew away her hands.
 
 A REFUSAL. 229 
 
 ' Then you will never forgive me, never 
 soften V he asked, in a tone of bitter 
 disappointment. 
 
 c I have no feeling of forgiveness — or 
 otherwise,' she said, indifferently. 
 
 c But what am I to do ? What shall I 
 say to Percival ? You must not carry this 
 too far. He is very much in earnest.' 
 
 : Sara is not of age — say that there can 
 be no engagement.' 
 
 c They are not to see each other?' 
 
 1 It would be wiser, better for them ; 
 but, of course, I may be unable to prevent 
 it.' 
 
 1 You would not do so ?' 
 
 4 But you must. It would be only cruel 
 to your son.' 
 
 1 Lucy, what does this mean ? What 
 are you driving at? Do you utterly 
 refuse ?' 
 
 ' There is no need to be definite.'
 
 230 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 There was a ring at the door, and Lucy 
 stepped back to the settee. Lord Stretton 
 felt he must go. He could not trust him- 
 self further. 
 
 6 I must come again ; when may I ? Do 
 nothing hastily I entreat you,' he said, 
 hurriedly. 
 
 ' I have never acted hastily,' she an- 
 swered ; and, as Lumb opened the door, 
 Lord Stretton escaped.
 
 231 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A WAITING TIME. 
 
 There was no time and no opportunity 
 to ask questions, for when Sara returned, 
 Mr. Greenwood was in the drawing-room, 
 making himself extremely agreeable to 
 her mother. He had come fully equipped 
 for his campaign. He must win Sara and 
 Sara's money. He could hardly believe 
 his good fortune, but all the same his 
 surprise should not paralyze action. Young 
 ladies in these days were not quite so 
 easy to lead and to win as they had been 
 in former times, when an innocent country
 
 232 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 miss with money was the reward of the 
 noblest and most daring man of fashion. 
 Modern times were far less simple, and 
 modern women far more difficult to tackle. 
 The fashionable roue was entirely out of 
 fashion, that gaudy fly would catch no 
 fish. Now your role must be to be witty, 
 courteous, clever, and if all else failed, 
 philanthropy usually won the country 
 heiress. Sara was certainly unsophis- 
 ticated, but she was so natural, and so 
 much alive, that she had no special 
 vanity which could be touched by flattery. 
 However, the more difficult the task, the 
 more meritorious its accomplishment. Gay- 
 thorne Greenwood had a clear, delicious 
 mental vision of the society paragraphs 
 announcing that c the well-known Mr. 
 Gaythorne Greenwood was about to marry 
 the heiress of the gold-mine, a lady as 
 charming as she was rich.'
 
 A WAITING TIME. 233 
 
 Sara was not very lively during lunch- 
 time, but she was a good listener, and 
 when Mr. Greenwood chose to be enter- 
 taining, no lips could resist the charm of 
 his talk, they were bound to expand in 
 smiles. 
 
 k Miss Beddoes, do you know your last 
 society name ?' he said, bending down to- 
 wards her with a smile that would have 
 captivated a girl not already in love. 
 
 1 Why should I have one given to 
 me?' 
 
 4 A nick-name is a mark of favour. You 
 are Una and the Lion. Mr. Coppin 
 is 
 
 c Cobbin, please. Guardian's name just 
 suits him.' 
 
 ' 1 beg his pardon, of course Cobbin ; 
 some day a savant will make him into a 
 myth of the sun. The gold-mine will fit 
 in well with that theory.'
 
 234 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Lion and the golden mane. What shall 
 I be r 
 
 1 First Una. Then the one who follows 
 the sun. Then Belphcebe, goddess of 
 heaven. Then the moon pure and simple. 
 By the way, have you heard that Lady 
 Violet Craven went to a fancy ball in 
 silver gauze as the moon? The poet, 
 Courthouse — the minor poet, you know — 
 went home and wrote a poem on her. In 
 it he longed to be the mist that wrapped 
 the lady round, and all that sort of thing. 
 It was really rather pretty ; but some 
 spiteful critic has found out that the senti- 
 ment is borrowed from a modern Provencal 
 poet.' 
 
 c Are there troubadours now ?' asked 
 Lucy. 
 
 c Certainly, they call themselves Felibres. 
 I don't know the meaning of the word, I 
 believe they don't know it themselves ;
 
 A WAITING TIME. 235 
 
 but they sing — prepared — impromptu songs 
 and win prizes.' 
 
 ' I wish there was now more jDoetry i n 
 life,' said Mrs. Bedcloes, softly. 
 
 Her face was still flushed, and she 
 looked far more poetical than Sara, who 
 was radiant with health. 
 
 c Shall I start the Felibres Society in 
 town, Mrs. Bedcloes? Command, and I 
 shall obey. You must not mind a nightly 
 serenade, and you and Miss Sara must 
 award the prizes. A laurel wreath will 
 do, first washed if picked in town. You 
 would get a whole world of abuse upon 
 you, more fierce even than that showered 
 on ladies who do good work. The ninety- 
 nine unchosen minor poets would make 
 your lives unendurable.' 
 
 c I fear that England and English girls 
 are too matter-of-fact,' said Sara. 
 
 4 That is the danger. My friend, the
 
 236 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Duchess of Lonewater, told me the other 
 day that she always avoided everything 
 written in short lines, alias poetry/ 
 
 Lucy smiled. 
 
 c What did you answer, Mr. Green- 
 wood, for reports says you favour the 
 poets ?' 
 
 c I said she was more than right, for no 
 one could wish to cut short anything she 
 said; as to poetry, I buy all the first 
 editions, but I never read them. I find 
 the poets themselves buy back the first 
 copies at startling prices.' 
 
 Lucy laughed. Mr. Greenwood made 
 her forget serious matters. Certainly Sara's 
 mind must be influenced in his favour. If 
 her daughter married him the world would 
 only applaud her mother, and even the 
 most select circles of society would be 
 open to her. The glory would be reflected 
 brightly upon Lucy Beddoes.
 
 A WAITING TIME. 237 
 
 Sara never guessed that day, as Mr. 
 Greenwood accompanied them, that the 
 tongue of society was already saying he 
 was her chosen suitor, and for once no- 
 body complained. Such a brilliant society 
 man was sure to marry well, and the 
 country girl was very fortunate to have 
 been selected by a man ' who could have 
 had anybody.' 
 
 It was only late that evening that Sara 
 herself could ask the question she longed 
 to have answered. 
 
 Her mother was tired, and as Sara en- 
 tered her room she reclined in an arm-chair 
 and half-closed her eyes. 
 
 1 Mother, you said he came. I am longing 
 to know. It is all right, isn't it ? I thought 
 Percival would have called, but ' 
 
 4 He did call, but you were dressing for 
 the ball, and I told Lurnb to say you were 
 engaged.'
 
 238 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Sara stood still, and her face turned as 
 white as her white dress. 
 
 c Mother !' 
 
 ' It is as I told you. Lord Stretton can 
 decide nothing. In fact, you must expect 
 no encouragement from him. I am too 
 proud to let my daughter engage herself 
 under such conditions, so I have decided 
 that all must be at an end.' 
 
 c At an end between me and Percival ? 
 It can't be. mother, we love each other.' 
 
 The blood rushed back to her cheeks, 
 and she suddenly sat down. 
 
 c You are very young, Sara ; — as if love 
 made everything else easy ! When I was 
 young I loved too, more than perhaps you 
 can understand, but I had to give up the 
 man I loved.' 
 
 Sara knew no particulars of that past 
 history. The mystery impressed her, and
 
 A WAITING TIME. 239 
 
 made a new pity flow into her young 
 heart. 
 
 L Then, mother, you can understand, you 
 know what it is like ; but I don't really 
 believe this. What a horrid man Lord 
 Stretton must be ! I — I hate him.' 
 
 ' No, he is only weak. He thinks of the 
 conventionalities.' 
 
 t But what is the matter with me ? It 
 isn't even that horrid money that is 
 wanting.' 
 
 * I am tired, Sara, you must go to bed. 
 Good-night, dear, and if you take my ad- 
 vice you will not knock your head against 
 a stone wall. It is kinder to be perfectly 
 open with you.' 
 
 That night Sara could not sleep. She 
 pondered over the question, she turned it 
 all ways, backwards and forwards. The 
 thing had appeared so simple before-hand.
 
 240- A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Percival was as regardless of convention- 
 alities as she was. They loved, and no 
 human obstacle seemed to be in the way — 
 and yet all at once there had been placed 
 some strong invisible wall between them. 
 Sara was not wanting in direct courage. 
 She settled that she would and that she 
 must see Percival, and that all would be 
 made clear. She rose early, wrote a few 
 words to him, and appointed a meeting- 
 place at Kensington Museum, where she 
 said she would take her guardian. They 
 would find some place there to talk it out. 
 She sent the note down to Lumb with a 
 message to have it posted at once, and then 
 went down to breakfast. 
 
 As she opened the door, she saw her 
 mother bending over a basket of beautiful 
 flowers, and Sara thought : 
 
 4 How beautiful she looks ! She is still 
 so young, she ought to be happier, but she
 
 A WAITING TIME. 241 
 
 does look happier since we have lived 
 together.' 
 
 1 What lovely flowers ! Where do they 
 come from?' exclaimed Sara. 
 
 c The sender's name is not on them, most 
 likely they are meant for you.' 
 
 ' For me !' Sara gave a start of pleasure, 
 then she added : ' Oh, no, look ! the 
 direction is quite plain, they are for you, 
 mother,' and Sara smiled. ' I don't wonder 
 that people send you flowers ! You are so 
 much prettier, and you look younger than 
 your daughter.' 
 
 ' If I could have had your good fortune 
 in my youth !' said Lucy, picking out a 
 beautiful rose and fastening it in the 
 bosom of her dress. 
 
 There was a tone of intense bitterness in 
 her voice, and for the first time Sara 
 noticed it. It made her shiver a little. 
 
 ' Good fortune ! Somehow I don't think 
 
 VOL.1. R
 
 242 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 it will be good to me. If it is of no use 
 
 for ' She stopped short. c I wonder 
 
 if money is of any use for happiness ?' 
 
 1 1 am sure that it is. It will certainly 
 help you, Sara, in finding a happy home. 
 I know already of one man who has no 
 capricious father at his back, and who is 
 devoted to you.' 
 
 Sara blushed. A girl is never quite 
 insensible to such words. 
 
 ' Devoted to me !' she said, laughing. 
 ' Well, I am sorry for it.' 
 
 c Sorry ! You ought to be very glad.' 
 
 c How can I when Do you mean 
 
 Mr. Greenwood ?' 
 
 c Yes. He is always here ; as I told 
 you, he comes simply for your sake.' 
 
 ' Then please tell him not to come, be- 
 cause you know, mother, that I can only 
 love one man, and that is Percival 
 Osborne.'
 
 A WAITING TIME. 243 
 
 'What nonsense, Sara ! You ought to 
 have more pride. If Lord Stretton puts 
 his foot down upon it, and he certainly 
 will do so, you can never marry his son.' 
 
 Sara was silent. Something in her 
 mother's tone jarred upon her. She ap- 
 peared unable to understand her, and then 
 suddenly her heart longed for the home at 
 Chapel Stacey, and for the kind faces of 
 her aunt, of Virginia and of Herringham. 
 She was beginning to feel lonely in this 
 bio; world which had showered down its 
 good things upon her. 
 
 Later on, when her guardian arrived to 
 fetch her, her spirits revived a little. 
 
 ; Shall we walk, Miss Sara?' 
 
 1 No, let's take a hansom. I want to get 
 there quickly, please.' 
 
 ' Where is there ?' 
 
 'Why, to Kensington Museum. You 
 don't know it, no more do I much.' 
 
 r 2
 
 244 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Is it an o]) port unity ?' said Cobbin, 
 smiling, though he noted Sara's grave 
 looks. 
 
 ' Yes,' she answered, laughing, c it is, 
 you are right ; but oh, Guardian, do you 
 know that your face is quite cheering to 
 me. I'm so glad you're not a lord.' 
 
 c A lord ! I'm bewared !' 
 
 CO 
 
 The two laughed like children, then 
 Sara's bright face was again clouded over. 
 
 c It may not be a laughing matter. Lord 
 Stretton won't hear of it.' 
 
 1 Won't hear of you ? Why, he couldn't 
 better your fortune.' 
 
 ' He doesn't think so. Guardian, I'm 
 so miserable.' 
 
 Jethro rubbed his hands together. Here 
 was a puzzle indeed ; he fancied money 
 could do everything but keep the dying 
 alive. 
 
 1 But you'll see Mr. Osborne to-day?'
 
 A WAITING TIME. 245 
 
 1 It's an appointment. Mother would be 
 horrified if she knew it, but I couldn't 
 help it. Were you ever in love, Guardian?' 
 
 ' No, not exactly,' said Jethro. ' I'm not 
 a lady's man. Till I saw you, Miss Sara, 
 I had a middling idea of the sex, but 
 
 now Come, Miss Sara, don't look so 
 
 down ; I'll go to this lord myself, and see 
 if he won't hear reason. To refuse a gold- 
 mine isn't common sense, but over in our 
 parts young women don't wait for their 
 father's consent, though it's honester to 
 say that many of them haven't got a parent 
 near handy.' 
 
 Sara actually felt shy when she walked 
 towards the meeting-place. For one mo- 
 ment she thought Percival had not kept 
 the appointment, but the next instant she 
 was reassured. He came hastily towards 
 her, but one look at his face told Sara that 
 her mother had not invented the bad news.
 
 246 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Mr. Cobbin had already moved away to 
 study some casts of the antique, though at 
 present his art education had to be carried 
 on without much help from Sara. When 
 they had met, the lovers' hands were slow 
 to part again. They were silent for a few 
 moments, feeling too surely that speech 
 would be disappointing enough when it 
 came. 
 
 c Tell me, Percival, is it true ?' 
 
 ' I can't understand it. It is bewilder- 
 ing. When I first spoke of you, he raised 
 no objection except such as might reason- 
 ably come from your people ; but yesterday 
 evening he went over it again with me, 
 and he says that there must be no en- 
 gagement.' 
 
 c But why ?' persisted Sara, raising her 
 head proudly. 
 
 c That is what puzzles me. I only know 
 that he won't hear of it.'
 
 A WAITING TIME. 247 
 
 c We can write to each other.' 
 
 ' My father says that your mother would 
 not allow that. You are not of age, and 
 that if it is not allowed there must be no 
 correspondence and no meeting. Darling, 
 the blow has been dreadful. I gave up 
 Oxford for my father's sake, and now this 
 — this seems too hard, too unjust.' 
 
 1 You must leave him, you must find a 
 profession, something to do, so as not to be 
 dependent upon him,' said Sara proudly. 
 c Why should we give in to anything so 
 foolish? Besides, when I come of a^e I 
 need ask no one. Guardian is for us. Is 
 it because I'm not good enough for you 7 
 Percival?' 
 
 ' You are far, far too good for me, 
 darling, but what can we do ? [f it were 
 not for — several things I should not 
 hesitate, but I am his only son and he has 
 but me. Clara and he have never got on
 
 248 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 well together. I cannot leave him. No, we 
 must wait patiently, and perhaps time ' 
 
 Sara was young, and youth is proud and 
 headstrong. 
 
 1 Then you don't much mind. Why did 
 you ever let me care ?' 
 
 c I don't mind ? My dearest, what are 
 you saying ?' 
 
 • If only I knew — but it all seems so 
 silly, so foolish. If you cared you would 
 try and find work.' 
 
 4 Won't you trust me, sweetest?' 
 
 Sara's good sense returned. 
 
 c Oh, of course I will. Percival, forgive 
 me ; I don't know why, but this week I feel 
 as if something strange were happening to 
 me. Oh, I am beginning to hate these 
 balls and parties where I can never meet 
 you.' 
 
 ' My father talks of going abroad almost 
 immediately.'
 
 A WAITING TIME. 249 
 
 c Then let us go too. Perhaps we could 
 meet. I seem to feel so lonely.' 
 
 c Your mother will help you.' 
 
 c Yes, yes, of course she will, but she 
 didn't do so yesterday, she seems so certain 
 that Lord Stretton won't hear of it. She 
 only advises our giving each other up — no- 
 thing else. It is cruel.' 
 
 c What nonsense ! We have not waited 
 long yet,' and he smiled. 
 
 Then Sara laughed, and the hope of youth 
 returned. They joined Jethro Cobbin, and, 
 in spite of the cloud, they managed to be 
 happy for a short while. 
 
 ' I mustn't come again without telling 
 mother,' said Sara. ' My conscience feels 
 a little stinging, but still we do understand 
 each other, don't we ?' 
 
 4 Perfectly, darling. You will trust me, 
 we must trust each other, and wait patient- 
 ly for this year at least.'
 
 250 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c Nearly a whole year, without writing 
 and without seeing you !' 
 
 c Then we need not be ashamed of coining 
 back to the attack. It will be harder for 
 me if you won't agree to this ; I can't ex- 
 plain, but ' 
 
 c It will be much harder for me ! You 
 will go abroad, you will have change of 
 scene, and see other girls, and ' 
 
 Lovers talk in much the same language 
 all over the world ; and these two knew so 
 little of life, of the world, even of them- 
 selves. There is, however, a strong in- 
 stinct in youth, and this instinct caused 
 Sara's eyes to fill with tears when at last 
 she said good-bye to her lover ; these tears 
 made Percival ask himself again : 
 
 c Why is this ? There is some mystery 
 about it which I cannot understand. Oh, 
 why did I promise mother not to leave 
 home ! How could she ask me?'
 
 A WAITING TIME. 251 
 
 As he pondered over all these things he 
 never even faintly guessed that, through 
 him, the woman he was bound to keep 
 out of his father's house had placed her 
 foot on the first step of the Stacey stairs.
 
 252 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A KETURN. 
 
 Lucy Beddoes knew very well from whom 
 the flowers came ; indeed, the next day, 
 expecting the sender of them, she dressed 
 herself in her most becoming attire, though 
 she hid his flowers in the dining-room. 
 
 This time Lucy rose immediately to re- 
 ceive her guest, and she even held out her 
 hand to him. Some feeling which he could 
 not explain made Lord Stretton pause be- 
 fore taking it, and the idea flashed through 
 his brain, ' What am I doing?' The next 
 moment prudence was cast behind him.
 
 A RETURN. 253 
 
 Something about this woman, some secret, 
 powerful attraction which he had no means 
 of weighing in the balance, overcame him. 
 Moreover, it appealed to all that was best 
 in his nature. It appeared to his simple 
 nature as if the time had come to right a 
 wrong, and that, if this beautiful and wo- 
 manly woman could ever forgive him, then 
 it was his duty to ask for her forgiveness. 
 
 He was a man of the world in the best 
 sense of this phrase. He had seen many 
 beautiful women, but none had influenced 
 him as this old love of his was able to do 
 it, at once and powerfully. It is the 
 noblest natures alone who come back to 
 their first loves. 
 
 ' I was obliged to come,' he said, as if in 
 apology for his early visit. ' I wanted to 
 come, in order to plead once more for the 
 young people.' 
 
 c Was that all you came for ?'
 
 254 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 She sat down and smiled, lifting her 
 eyes to Lord Stretton's kind, handsome 
 face in her slow and half-provoking 
 manner. 
 
 ' No, you know that it is not all I came 
 for. I wanted to see you. I fancied the 
 past was buried, and now I find that it is 
 risen from the dead.' 
 
 ' The past had better remain buried,' she 
 ..said, carelessly ; ' but about Sara ' 
 
 6 Percival is naturally dreadfully dis- 
 tressed about your decision. He cannot 
 understand my attitude, and how can I 
 explain it to him ?' 
 
 ' You want some one to take the respon- 
 sibility from you,' she said, softly but 
 scornfully ; and the words, with their 
 double meaning, stung him sharply. 
 
 c No, it is not that; but, honestly, where 
 is the sense of stopping their romance?' 
 
 ' Sense ! There never is any sense in
 
 A RETURN. 255 
 
 such things, but the will of another has to 
 serve for common-sense.' 
 
 ' I know what you mean. Lucy, you 
 have no pity. Are you thinking only of 
 yourself?' 
 
 c I suppose I am — but I do not wish to 
 influence you. You can go and approve 
 of your son's choice, then I shall manage 
 Sara alone.' 
 
 1 Lucy — tell me your reason, your true 
 reason. Is it one that time will alter ? 
 Would you think otherwise if I were to 
 speak out to you and tell you ' 
 
 Lucy's foot softly tapped the ground. 
 Her face flushed, her hands trembled a 
 little. 
 
 c Whatever you do or say, Lord Stret- 
 ton, will make no difference to me. Sara 
 shall never, with my consent, marry jour 
 son.' 
 
 1 It is senseless. Even the world would
 
 256 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 say so. She will be rich, and Percival 
 will not object to money. Land is very 
 unprofitable, and I must think of Clara. 
 Indeed — Lucy,' — He came close beside 
 her, and took her passive hand in his as 
 he sighed. At this moment the rush of 
 recollection overpowered him — c Lucy, for- 
 give me ; if you have suffered, I also have 
 suffered.' 
 
 ' Was it my fault?' she said, calmly. 
 
 c No, it was not your fault, it was mine 
 and my mother's. I was a devoted son. 
 She would not hear of our love. But 
 don't you see that you are repeating her 
 mistake ?' 
 
 ' Excuse me. 1 have no sordid motives. 
 If Sara were penniless, I should say the 
 same. My daughter shall never marry 
 the son of the woman who took my place.' 
 
 ' My son.' 
 
 Lucy laughed coldly, and Lord Stretton
 
 A RETURN. 257 
 
 dropped her hand. How hard she was. 
 Good God! was this his Lucy, his old 
 love ? What had changed her ? The 
 answer was easy enough. He had done it, 
 and this feeling gave once more a tone of 
 tenderness to his voice. 
 
 ' Lucy — listen — I have come back to 
 you ' 
 
 ' I never asked you to do so,' she said, 
 proudly. 
 
 ' No, I have not said so, but this fate, 
 this chance gave me the excuse. I have 
 come back because to be near you seems 
 to be like rest in heaven. I don't expect 
 you to forgive the past, but at least when 
 I leave you I shall know that — that I 
 came and asked for your forgiveness.' 
 
 There was a pause. Lucy was weighing 
 his words. Was that all he wanted of her, 
 forgiveness, the one thing she could not 
 give him? 
 
 vol. i. s
 
 258 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ' You came to ask a favour for your 
 son.' 
 
 c I should have come anyhow. If not 
 now, some day, Lucy. I don't know why 
 such things should be, why some love 
 is undying, but so it is. Mine is like 
 that.' 
 
 ' I don't agree with you. I think love 
 can be killed. Mine was.' 
 
 If she had now shown signs of giving 
 in, perhaps Lord Stretton might have seen 
 deeper, and he might have paused. It 
 was this perfect command of herself which 
 provoked him to go further. 
 
 ' I want to teach you otherwise. I want 
 to — to — but even you see, Lucy, how this 
 is hardly the time for me to come to 
 you.' 
 
 c It was your own doing. I have given 
 my answer. It is better for you to put 
 your foot down at once upon your son's
 
 A RETURN. 259 
 
 choice. It will be happier for both of 
 them.' 
 
 ' Do you positively mean this ?' 
 
 4 Entirely.' 
 
 4 But, Lucy, if I cannot agree ?' 
 
 4 Very well. We need not meet again.' 
 
 ' What nonsense !' 
 
 He took her hand again. How long it 
 was since he had thought of a woman's 
 hand as something divinely fair. Had he 
 dared he would have kissed it, but her 
 eyes were still hidden, and he could not 
 o'uess how she would take it. 
 
 His strong grasp thrilled through Lucy. 
 But for the past history she would have 
 given in, she would have laid her head on 
 his shoulder, and she would have felt, 
 4 At last, at last, here is rest;' but revenge 
 had too long been her daily companion. 
 It was too true, long cherished thoughts 
 of revenge had killed her highest love. 
 
 s 2
 
 260 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Now love was merely a means to an end,, 
 not the end itself. She thought, c He has 
 come back to me now — only now.' 
 
 She did not answer his exclamation. 
 
 ' Lucy, speak, dearest. Tell me what to 
 do?' 
 
 ' I have told you.' 
 
 c This is maddening You see how I am 
 placed. How can I face Percival and give 
 him no good reason for this caprice ?' 
 
 c Did you ever give me a good reason ? — 
 Invent one.' 
 
 He rose impatiently. 
 
 fr I cannot, I cannot. I put him off 
 yesterday as best I could, but — I know 
 him. He is the best son a man ever had, 
 he thinks of me before himself — I can't 
 behave so to him. I shall kill his respect. 
 Besides, it will be only a question of time. 
 Percival will be true to the woman he 
 loves.'
 
 A RETURN. 261 
 
 1 Ah ! Then he will be unlike — ' She 
 stopped short, and stood up too. The 
 soft perfume of her clothes, of her hair, 
 the soft but strong magnetic power con- 
 quered him. Age does not always give a 
 man greater strength to resist a woman's 
 power ; on the contrary, it often diminishes 
 it. Lord Stretton saw plainly that this 
 one, this beautiful woman full of the 
 mature charm, full of terrible strength, 
 
 CD ' 
 
 was not to be thwarted. The temptation 
 lay in this one act, but he only dimly per- 
 ceived it, for a man always believes that 
 circumstance will somehow work for his 
 good, and that a way of escape is always 
 to be found from the result of his own 
 actions. 
 
 ; Look, dearest, tell me, do you mean 
 that this must not be?' 
 
 c Yes.' She looked up at him with all 
 the sweet softness he had treasured in his
 
 262 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 recollection through all the years of his 
 wretched married life. He had had so 
 little love, his power — a good man's power 
 of loving — had been so little exhausted 
 that he was still craving for it, and here it 
 was, if — if — After all, he alone could not 
 ensure Percival's happiness. If Lucy stood 
 firm she could find some way of prevent- 
 ing her daughter's marriage ; why, there- 
 fore, must he ruin his own happiness by 
 holding out ? He had done his best to 
 crush her objections, what more could he 
 do ? He put one arm round her and drew 
 her gently to him till Lucy's fair head 
 rested on his shoulder. For one moment, 
 all the past was forgotten, all was swept 
 away, the man and the woman were in 
 heaven — but only for one moment. Then 
 the great tide that had years ago en- 
 croached on Lucy's fair domain rolled
 
 A RETURN. 263 
 
 back, and the sad moaning of discontent 
 was again audible to her. 
 
 c Douglas,' she said, very, very softly. 
 4 Douglas, do you love me at last?' 
 
 1 You know it, dearest.' 
 
 ' Nothing shall come between us again, 
 nothing; say it, Douglas. Oh, the years 
 have been so long, so very long.' 
 
 There was a little sob heard, the arm 
 that supported her felt the strength of 
 the long-drawn breath. 
 
 ' Nothing, my darling, nothing.' 
 
 'Not even your — not even Percival?' 
 
 c Nothing, sweetest.' 
 
 She gently released herself, for she had 
 not learnt self-control in vain. 
 
 ' You must go. This will never do ;' 
 then she smiled through her tears. 
 
 1 Why not ? Why should we be ashamed 
 of our love?'
 
 264 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 He threw all considerations to the wind, 
 he was completely intoxicated with this 
 new-old love. It was as strange and as 
 wonderful to him as if he had been a 
 young man of twenty. She, on the con- 
 trary, had quickly recovered her self-pos- 
 session, only a new, strange brilliancy 
 shone in her eyes, and her lips were 
 tremulous. 
 
 c Oh, you know there are many things 
 
 to think of. People will talk if no, 
 
 no, everything must be as before. In 
 some months' time it will be different.' 
 
 1 As you like ; yes, you are right ; but 
 when we can be open about it, all will be 
 easier. Even if we have to wait because 
 of our children ' 
 
 Lucy gave a little start. 
 
 'To wait — why? What do you mean? 
 Don't spoil this one hour — don't, please, 
 Douglas.'
 
 A RETURN. 265 
 
 c Spoil it ! I would not do so for the 
 world, my sweet one. It shall be our 
 secret, our precious secret. Lucy, there is 
 so much to tell you, so much to talk over. 
 Years won't be enough ' 
 
 1 Years ! One cannot count on any- 
 thing. Go now, please, I want to be 
 alone, I want to think about it, to believe 
 it if I can. Perhaps it is a dream, still 
 only a dream.' 
 
 4 Nonsense. When I can prove to you 
 that it is a reality, a beautiful reality, then 
 you will be too happy to doubt or to care 
 whether Percival ' 
 
 ' You promised, Douglas, that that should 
 never be. I must have you all to myself, 
 you must bury the past, you have so much 
 to make up for.' 
 
 c Foolish darling !' 
 
 He stooped down and lifted the oval face
 
 266 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 with his two strong, gentle hands, and 
 looked into her eyes. 
 
 ' Am I foolish ? Perhaps ; anyhow, you 
 have pledged yourself.' 
 
 4 To a sweet tyrant.' 
 
 c Yes, Douglas, to a sweet tyrant ; but 
 go, go now, I want to be alone.'
 
 267 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 NEUTRALITY. 
 
 Clara Osborne had very few personal 
 friends. During her mother's life-time she 
 had lived for her, and had entirely devoted 
 herself to her, so that now the time hung 
 rather heavily on her hands. Her father's 
 cheerful face made her more miserable than 
 she was already. She was furious with him 
 for feeling his loss so little, and angry too 
 with Percival because he was preoccupied, 
 and because he did not resent his father's 
 cheerful spirits. A woman must have 
 some outside resource, and if there is no
 
 268 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 outlet for her affections she usually throws 
 herself into society or into active good 
 works. For Clara, society was out of the 
 question, but good works remained; and 
 one day Miss Osborne drove to St. Cecilia's 
 Vicarage to offer her services to the rector. 
 His name was the Reverend James Col- 
 borne, and he received his visitor with the 
 easy courtesy — occasionally found com- 
 bined — of a gentleman and a clergyman. 
 
 c I have heard you wanted workers,' she 
 said. c I am in deep mourning for my 
 mother, so I have a good deal of time on 
 my hands.' 
 
 c Thank you,' he said, kindly. c You 
 like the poor, I conclude, and you can 
 sympathize with their trials, else you 
 would not be here.' 
 
 c Oh, I have been used to poor people. 
 At Stacey I visited in the parish. My 
 mother was very particular about the
 
 NEUTRALITY. 269' 
 
 people. If any of them did not behave 
 well, they were turned out of the village.' 
 
 Mr. Colborne smiled. 
 
 c We can't do that here. We can only 
 win their hearts.' 
 
 Clara's sad, discontented face did not 
 strike him as specially attractive. On her 
 side she looked at the simply furnished, 
 uncomfortable room, and decided that Mr. 
 Colborne was a bachelor. 
 
 c There are some things which only a 
 woman can help them with,' she said. 
 
 Her eyes wandered to the chimney- 
 piece, and she was suddenly attracted by 
 the sight of a woman's photograph. The 
 face was beautiful, and there was a sweet 
 womanliness about the figure. Mr. Col- 
 borne saw the direction of Miss Osborne's 
 eyes. 
 
 c Yes, indeed, a woman's influence is of 
 untold benefit to them. I see you are
 
 270 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 looking at that photograph. It is the 
 picture of one whose very presence seemed 
 to bring comfort to the poor and to the 
 sick.' 
 
 1 Indeed,' said Clara, rising to examine 
 the portrait. l It is certainly a charming 
 face. I can't pretend to any attractive 
 power, but I can deliver tracts and call 
 for club money. In fact, I want something 
 to do.' 
 
 1 I am glad you say that at once. I will 
 find you something to do, but you must 
 not mind if the work is rather unin- 
 teresting.' 
 
 'You mean, I should not be the right 
 person to bring consolation to cottagers — 
 I should not influence people as this lady 
 did ?' she said, with a touch of pride in 
 her voice. 
 
 1 She was a saint, Miss Osborne, and 
 they are rare.'
 
 NEUTRALITY. 271 
 
 'Very rare, I should think. Well, any- 
 how, for the next fortnight T can help in 
 any way you like. After that I shall hope 
 to persuade my father to go abroad.' 
 
 6 Ah, indeed.' Then James Colborne 
 fetched a list and appointed Clara's work. 
 She took up precious time, for help during 
 a fortnight was almost useless to him, but 
 he was too great a saint himself to tell her 
 so, or to let her discover her uselessness. 
 1 A soul in sorrow,' he thought to himself, 
 as he looked at the girl's habitual frown. 
 
 That evening Clara told Percival and 
 her father what she had done. 
 
 ' We can go abroad soon, can't we ?' she 
 asked, turning to her father. 
 
 'Abroad — well, no, I don't think so; it 
 is a great bother. I shall go home. 
 There's no place like home.' 
 
 Clara's face clouded over.
 
 272 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ; Home ! It won't be home to me any 
 more. No, no, let us go abroad.' 
 
 Lord Stretton looked radiant this even- 
 ing. It was impossible not to notice his 
 changed looks. Percival, who was feeling 
 more than miserable, wondered why his 
 father could be so little affected by his 
 son's unhappiness. 
 
 1 If you wish it, Clara, I think it would 
 be a good thing for you to have a change. 
 By all means find a companion and go 
 abroad.' 
 
 ' Clara mustn't go without us,' said Per- 
 cival, with a sudden wish to show his 
 father that after all Clara's wishes should 
 be considered. 
 
 The subject dropped for the time being, 
 and only in the evening was it mentioned 
 again between father and son. 
 
 4 Why should not Clara get a little 
 change, Percival ? She mopes too much.'
 
 NEUTRALITY. 273 
 
 ' Half her life has gone,' said Percival, 
 slowly. 
 
 ' Poor child, but some new joy will take 
 away the old sorrow. Will you take her 
 abroad, Percival? It will do you good 
 too. — By the way, I want to tell you de- 
 finitely that all that business about Miss 
 Beddoes must be at an end.' 
 
 ' Must be ? Surely, sir, that is im- 
 possible?' 
 
 1 1 am afraid, my poor boy, that you 
 must make up your mind as others before 
 you have had to do. I had another talk 
 with Mrs. Beddoes to-day, and it seems that 
 she is quite immovable.' 
 
 4 1 thought it was your objections, sir, 
 that stood in the way?' 
 
 c Well, we both object. She has her 
 reasons and I have mine. The girl is 
 under age, and must obey her mother, and 
 in the meanwhile it is more honourable to 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 throw it all up. I don't say that when 
 you are both your own masters, and if 
 Miss Beddoes is still of the same mind, 
 then that might be another question ; but 
 
 at this moment I'm very sorry, 
 
 Percival, but once for all you must give 
 her up.' 
 
 Percival stood quite still. He was silent 
 from intense surprise. He could never 
 have believed his father would have stood 
 in his way without apparent reason or 
 without sufficient cause. Had he been 
 free, unfettered by that dreadful promise, 
 he would at once have decided to leave his 
 father, and to seek work of some kind or 
 other. As it was, he could not do so. There 
 was nothing for it but patience — but would 
 Sara understand this strange conduct ? He 
 was placed in a very difficult position, and 
 one that seemed to him almost unbearable.
 
 ^EUTEALITY. 275 
 
 6 Miss Becldoes will be extremely sur- 
 prised at all this,' he said at last. c She 
 will think that she has been treated in a 
 preposterous manner.' 
 
 1 Her mother will explain the position, 
 I suppose. The girl is sure to get en- 
 gaged very soon. In fact, her mother has 
 already chosen the man she wishes her to 
 marry.' 
 
 ' As if, in these days, girls were bought 
 and sold in this way !' said Percival. ( I 
 may as well say, once for all, father, that 
 I shall marry no one else, and I feel sure 
 that she will not.' 
 
 c Let us hear no more about it. It is 
 impossible. You have seen the girl barely 
 half-a-dozen times. It is not as if this were 
 a long-standing affection ; in that case — ' 
 
 Lord Stretton paused. He hated him- 
 self for giving pain to Percival, the son 
 
 t 2
 
 276 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 who had always been a comfort to him 7 
 but the choice lay between siding with 
 him — which would not advance his suit 
 one step — or siding with Lucy — Lucy I 
 At this moment the word was a powerful 
 talisman. His was no half love, no new 
 fancy. It was the old love flowing back 
 with increased force, and why should he 
 destroy his own hopes for the sake of Per- 
 cival ? How much he wished that Per- 
 cival had never set eyes on Lucy's child, 
 but this wish was so futile that it was 
 hardly worth giving it a moment's thought. 
 The complications were so strange, so in- 
 tensely inconvenient, and unfortunately 
 Lucy had foolishly made it a test question. 
 But even Lucy did not know all. His own 
 marriage would leave him a poor man, and 
 Lucy had no money. He must tell her 
 some day — not yet. The whole subject was
 
 NEUTRALITY. 277 
 
 intensely irritating, but he had no choice 
 — so he said. It was Lucy against Per- 
 cival ; and Lucy's victory, in spite of many 
 misgivings, seemed certain. Only Lord 
 Stretton felt that, after all, Percival could 
 afford to wait and he could not. Things 
 would come right for the younger man ; 
 whilst for him — for him — Lucy must for- 
 give him, she must be his as soon as pub- 
 lic opinion allowed it. Then all his past 
 mistakes would be blotted oat, all the old 
 sores healed, and the old wrongs righted. 
 He would once more respect himself, and 
 the absence of this feeling had been no 
 small part of his punishment. 
 
 1 1 must write to her once more,' said 
 Percival, after a long silence. 
 
 ' Her mother will not hear of any sort of 
 binding or of keeping up a correspond- 
 ence. 7
 
 278 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 c She need not be afraid of underhand 
 ways. Sara is incapable of it. The mother, 
 on the contrary, I distrust very much. 
 There is some mystery under all this, and 
 I shall not quietly submit to it.' 
 
 c My dear fellow, you must not take this 
 to heart so much. You are not the only 
 man who has failed to win a first 
 love.' 
 
 ' But there have been reasons, sufficient 
 reasons. In my case there are none.' 
 
 fc Be sure that there are reasons in this 
 case, sufficient reasons.' 
 
 c Then why am I not told them ?' 
 
 Lord Stretton turned away. He would 
 not discuss the subject further. Percival 
 did not know about his mother's will ; on 
 the other hand, Lord Stretton had a cousin 
 who would, he believed, leave him a modest 
 fortune, but she was not even in frail
 
 NEUTRALITY. 279 
 
 health, and he was not accustomed to wait 
 for dead men's shoes. 
 
 1 Take my advice ; start off with Clara 
 to Switzerland or Italy, and let this blow 
 over. I shall go home. I don't mind the 
 solitude for a time.' 
 
 1 Clara would like it, I know, but I can't 
 leave you, sir.' 
 
 c For a month ! A month will do Clara 
 all the good in the world, and she will 
 come home with new ideas. Indeed, you 
 must take her. I have plenty to do at 
 Stacey.' 
 
 Percival retired to his room, but before 
 he went to bed he wrote a long letter to 
 Sara, telling her that nothing would move 
 his father, and that her mother also for- 
 bade all intercourse. 
 
 ; For the present, darling, I am bound to 
 give in. I could not do anything dishon-
 
 280 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ourable. I could not put you in a false 
 position, but be sure of one thing, that I 
 will wait for you, wait always till you give 
 me leave to come.' 
 
 On her side Lucy had undertaken the 
 same kind offices for Sara. She too chose 
 that evening to tell Sara definitely that all 
 was at an end, that nothing would move 
 Lord Stretton, and that they must give up 
 all intercourse. 
 
 1 But why?' said Sara, her face no longer 
 bright and hopeful. c Why, mother? I 
 can't believe it. It seems senseless. We 
 only ask to be allowed to write to each 
 other.' 
 
 4 Xo, certainly not. It is better that all 
 should end. You must trust me, dear 
 Sara, to do what I think best.' 
 
 ' But Percival will never srive in.' 
 
 c He has given in, he certainly cannot go 
 against his father.'
 
 NEUTRALITY. 281 
 
 1 It is unjust and cruel, and directly I 
 am my own mistress I shall offer all my 
 money to Percival. There will be enough 
 to live on, I suppose.' Sara began to be 
 scornful. 
 
 c Such wilfulness never ends in good. 
 You can't wish him to quarrel with his 
 father. It would be very selfish of you.' 
 
 c He will never give me up, I know it,' 
 said Sara ; and she went to bed still be- 
 lieving that she and Percival were stronger 
 than anyone else in the world. 
 
 But the next morning came Percival's 
 note. Though she knew that he acted 
 on the highest principles, and though she 
 felt there was no use fighting any more at 
 present, she was deeply disappointed. She 
 wrote only two lines in answer : 
 
 ' We will wait, Percival ; but I think 
 your father is cruel and unjust.' 
 
 Then Sara's life made a new beginning.
 
 282 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Something good had gone out of her 
 existence, and some new feeling of hatred 
 crept in. The life of pleasure suddenly 
 felt flat, and she followed her mother, 
 generally accompanied by Mr. Greenwood, 
 as if she were a ghost of her former 
 self. 
 
 4 Would you like us to go to Chapel 
 Stacey,' said her mother one day. c We 
 ould hire the rectory, I hear, for the rec- 
 tor has gone abroad for his health. It is 
 a lovely house, and that beautiful wood 
 which belongs to it will be perfect now.' 
 
 c Yes, oh yes, please let us go, 7 said 
 Sara. c I want to get away from here/ 
 
 1 Especially as your guardian tells me 
 he is soon going to take a trip back to the 
 mine.' 
 
 c Then there is nothing left to care for in 
 London,' said Sara.
 
 NEUTRALITY. 283 
 
 6 But I shall ask Mr. Greenwood to pay 
 us a visit.' 
 
 Sara answered nothing ; the romance of 
 her life seemed ended.
 
 284 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A CONSULTATION. 
 
 A few days after Lord Stretton's conver- 
 sation with his son, as Clara was sitting 
 up late in her bedroom, she heard a knock 
 at the door. All that afternoon she had been 
 collecting club-money amongst the poorest 
 of the poor in the parish of St. Gabriel, 
 and this gave her food for meditation. 
 She had caught glimpses of wretched homes 
 and of dirty dens, where life, in her sense 
 of the word, seemed impossible, and now
 
 A CONSULTATION. 285' 
 
 she gazed upon the luxury which sur- 
 rounded her with quite a new feeling of 
 surprise. At Stacey all the cottages were 
 comfortable and well built, and the poor peo- 
 ple, at all events outwardly, were models 
 of their class. Clara's habitual look of dis- 
 content was much softened as her brother 
 came in. 
 
 c You have not gone to bed, Clara ? 
 May I have a few minutes' talk with 
 you ?' 
 
 1 Yes, do come in. Oh ! Percival, I 
 think poverty is a dreadful thing.' 
 
 Percival smiled. 
 
 1 Just now I'm thinking that to be rich 
 is a worse calamity.' 
 
 c Nonsense !' 
 
 c I want to tell you my reason for think- 
 ing so. Will you listen, Clara?' 
 
 Clara was struck by Percival's tone of 
 despondency. His nature was so sunny
 
 286 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 that she had very rarely seen him 
 depressed. 
 
 c Of course I will. What is the matter ? 
 I wish you would sometimes confide in me. 
 Mother told me everything, everything. 
 Now I feel so lonely.' 
 
 c Poor Clara ! Did mother tell you 
 everything ? Yes, I know you find it 
 awfully hard to live without her, but — 
 Well, first about my own affairs.' 
 
 Then in as few words as possible he 
 told his sister about Sara and about the 
 probable end of his short dream of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 c So you fell in love the first time you 
 saw her ! How very strange.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know it is, but it's true. We 
 
 just suit each other, and she is oh, it's 
 
 no use describing her. She's just a girl 
 you can trust down to the ground.'
 
 A CONSULTATION. 287 
 
 1 I am sorry, Percival. Let me speak to 
 papa ! Why should he stop it ? Every- 
 body else would say you were a lucky man 
 — and if you like her ' 
 
 ' Like her! but it's no use, I can't under- 
 stand it. I think all the objections really 
 come from her mother. She must be a 
 worldly woman, and I expect she fancies 
 we have not enough money. I suppose 
 she looks still higher for Sara.' 
 
 c Vulvar woman !' 
 
 ' Oh no, she is not vulgar at all. On the 
 contrary, she is very refined and quite a 
 lady, but somehow I can't feel at my ease 
 with her. I am sure that she did not like me. 
 My poor Sara ! Her mother says there 
 is someone else most anxious to marry 
 her.' 
 
 'Will she — will she be true to you?' 
 asked Clara, diffidently, for this was the
 
 288 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 first romance that had touched her 
 nearly. 
 
 ' We are not to write or to see each other. 
 How can I ask her to shut herself up all 
 these months for my sake, and others will 
 love her. They must.' 
 
 Percival stopped short, and then, as he 
 slowly paced the room, Clara tried to find 
 words of comfort but she could not. 
 
 c But when she is of age and comes in 
 for all that money, surely she can please 
 herself?' 
 
 4 Yes, if before that time her mother — ' 
 
 c Oh, then she isn't worth having if she 
 can't be true to you.' 
 
 6 She is devoted to her mother, and then 
 she has such a joyous, sunny nature, how 
 will she bear all this. The worst is that I 
 am in honour bound not to go near to 
 her.'
 
 A CONSULTATION. 289 
 
 c Papa must listen to reason. He is so 
 fond of you.' 
 
 c I don't understand it, but there is 
 another matter, Clara, about which I want 
 to talk to you.' 
 
 c Sit down, Percival, I can't listen to you 
 if you tramp about.' 
 
 Percival obediently sat down in a low 
 arm-chair. 
 
 c You say, dear, that mother told you 
 everything, did she happen to tell you 
 what she wished me to know before her 
 death?' 
 
 Clara's brow contracted. 
 
 c No, I don't think she did. What was 
 it?' 
 
 ' I don't know whether I ought to tell 
 you, but father is anxious you should go 
 abroad before going home and he wants 
 me to take you.' 
 
 vol. i. u
 
 290 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 ' I hope you will ; I won't go w T ith a 
 stranger. I couldn't bear it.' 
 
 c That is just it. If my father would 
 come too, then it would be easy, but I 
 don't like to leave him alone.' 
 
 ' Oh, he is going down to Stretton, he 
 will be very happy pottering about there. 
 He won't miss her at every turn as I 
 shall.' 
 
 c Xo, but Clara, how can I tell 
 
 you ? I promised my mother not to leave 
 him alone, because she believes that some 
 woman will try and get hold of him — and 
 I promised to guard him.' 
 
 Clara's eyes grew larger. 
 
 ; Some woman ? Who is she ?' 
 
 c I don't know. She never told me, but 
 evidently it is some one who came between 
 them, I suppose. She made me promise 
 that I would not leave him.'
 
 A CONSULTATION. 291 
 
 1 That is why you didn't go back to 
 Oxford?' 
 
 c Yes, and that is why I doubt about 
 going with you. Why did I promise ? A 
 man has no right to put himself in such a 
 position.' 
 
 ' Mother, of course, only meant that you 
 were not to go off to the antipodes. Don't 
 you remember that you used to say that 
 you would go to Australia as soon as you 
 left Oxford?' 
 
 c Was it only that ? Do you think that 
 I may go with you?' 
 
 ' Of course. What an idea ! But about 
 that woman ! Look here, Percival, papa 
 will certainly be safe at Stretton, for he 
 could not invite any woman to come and 
 stay with him whilst I am away, and there 
 is nowhere in the village where she could 
 lodge. We are such miles from even 
 
 u 2
 
 292 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Chapel Stacey. How strange it all is, 
 though !' 
 
 1 This horrible promise weighs me 
 down.' 
 
 c Don't say that, please ; mother must 
 have had good reasons for saying what she 
 did. Of course she had, but to make it 
 doubly sure, I'll tell Fuller to let no one 
 come to the house in our absence. That 
 will make you quite easy. I feel as if I 
 cannot go back yet. Perhaps, when I 
 have seen other places ' 
 
 ' Yes, yes ; then you give me leave, 
 Clara ? Mother spoke so strongly that 
 the scene haunts me.' 
 
 ' She must have dreaded the other 
 woman very much. I am glad you have 
 told me. There was some story, I know, 
 about their marriage ; but, of course, we 
 should be the last to know it.'
 
 A CONSULTATION. 293 
 
 4 Don't ask anyone. I would rather not 
 know. Then I will come if you are 
 sure ' 
 
 4 Yes, yes, let's go to the Italian lakes. 
 Mother always said you were to take me 
 there some day.' 
 
 c It seems impossible to be so near to 
 Sara and yet to be forbidden to see her. 
 It would be easier to bear if there was any 
 sense in it. I say, Clara, I seem to have 
 made a mull of the whole business.' 
 
 4 Poor Percival ! It will come all right ; 
 you shouldn't have fallen in love with a 
 mine of wealth !' 
 
 4 I'm proud to think I fell in love with 
 a penniless girl, no one can accuse me of 
 that ! I don't care a farthing about her 
 money.' 
 
 This conversation did good in one way, 
 for it brought the brother and sister
 
 294 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 nearer to each other. Clara brightened 
 up, she felt once more of use to somebody, 
 and she began to make active preparations 
 for going abroad. She also began to stud) 7 
 her father's wishes a little more, dimly 
 conscious now of her deficient sympathy. 
 She said to herself that when she came 
 back she would try to be more cheerful, 
 and to make his home more agreeable. 
 She saw plainly in what a difficult position 
 Percival was placed. 
 
 She even noticed a change in her father, 
 he was so much more kind and con- 
 siderate towards her, he went less to 
 his club at night, and he seemed to 
 prefer her society to that of Percival. 
 That was perhaps natural, considering 
 this unfortunate love-affair. Clara also 
 began to have a certain curiosity about 
 Percival's Sara, and expressed a wish
 
 A CONSULTATION. 295 
 
 to see lier, but this was of course now 
 impossible. 
 
 The fortnight dragged on slowly enough 
 for Percival. Whenever he dared, he 
 would slink round by Sara's street in the 
 hopes of a chance meeting, but chance 
 seldom consents to have her hand forced. 
 Two days before Percival's departure, 
 when he returned home to tea, he found 
 his father was still out, quite an unusual 
 event, as Lord Stretton always made his 
 appearance at that hour. 
 
 c Clara, I have found out something. 
 The Bedcloes are gone out of town.' 
 
 1 Gone — and the season not over ! How 
 strange V 
 
 4 Yes, it is. I should have thought Mrs. 
 Beddoes would have held on to the end if 
 she has mercenary ideas for Sara ; but it's 
 true, the house is shut up, and I actually
 
 296 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 had the courage to ring the bell and to 
 interview an old caretaker. Strangely 
 enough, she did not know where they 
 were, or else she had orders to say 
 so.' 
 
 c Orders to say so, of course. Their 
 letters would have to be sent on,' said 
 Clara, with a woman's quick instinct. 
 
 4 They want to shelve me for good.' 
 
 4 Poor old Percy ! Never mind, pa- 
 tience for a few months, and all will end 
 well.' 
 
 4 1 wish I had seen that honest Cobbin 
 again. He, at all events, is as clear as 
 glass.' 
 
 4 Why, I saw in the paper to-day that 
 Mr. Jethro Cobbin had started, or was 
 starting, for Australia !' 
 
 4 And Sara is left to her mother ! I 
 can't think why I have a feeling against
 
 A CONSULTATION. 297 
 
 the woman. I wish you had seen her. 
 Her eyes gave me an uncomfortable 
 feeling as if a snake were fascinating 
 me ; but many would call her a beautiful 
 woman.' 
 
 4 Don't you think you could get over it 
 all ? I wish you had never met the girl. 
 Shall I talk to father about it before we 
 go?' 
 
 1 No, no, it would be useless. Anyhow, 
 I must bear it like a man. When we get 
 back to Stacey, I'll try and get news of her 
 from Herringham Gwillian, but he is rather 
 a rough diamond. It's no use talking of 
 it. Have you got all your sketching ma- 
 terials ready, Clara ? I shall try to take 
 it up again. When we were young, you 
 and I used to do a good deal of it. I shall 
 take some books, but sometimes I feel as 
 if I hated everything.'
 
 298 A MINE OF WEALTH. 
 
 Clara made up her mind to turn over a 
 new leaf, and to devote herself to Percival. 
 She was really a thoughtful, accomplished 
 woman, but her mind had always been 
 overshadowed by the domestic misery that 
 had surrounded her, and she had never 
 had time to develop. 
 
 When the day of departure arrived, Per- 
 cival was glad to find that his father was 
 going to take an early train to Stacey. 
 Clara declared that there would be no 
 danger then from the mysterious influence, 
 and that on her return she would do all 
 she could to help her brother. Anyhow, 
 their father would not marry anyone under 
 a year, and before that time he would be 
 immersed in home- duties. So she argued, 
 as she thought, quite conclusively. 
 
 Percival's good-bye to his father was 
 somewhat constrained. Both seemed glad
 
 A CONSULTATION. 299 
 
 of the separation, though it was to be a 
 short one. Indeed, that morning Clara 
 Osborne looked the brightest of the 
 two. 
 
 ''Bon voyage ,' said Lord Stretton, step- 
 ping into his carriage. ' I shall await 
 you at Stacey. Don't think of me, I shall 
 do very well.' 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON: PRINTED BY DUNCAN MACDONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE.
 
 
 
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