LI B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 StH3d 
 
 V. I
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/downwaynovel01stan
 
 
 DOWN THE WAY 
 
 i\J 
 
 % iotol 
 
 By hope STANFORD 
 
 'Where is thy hand to lead me down the way ? " 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LOXDON : 
 
 JOHN AND ROBERT MAXWELL 
 
 MILTON HOUSE, SHOE LAXE, FLEET STKEET, 
 
 AND 
 
 35, ST. BRIDE STREET, K.C. 
 
 {All rights reserved.]
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY H. BLACKLOCK AND CO., 
 
 7'), FARBINGDON ROAD, E.C.
 
 8^3 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 CHAP. PAGK 
 
 I. — The Heart's Desire 1 
 
 11.— A Discord 12 
 
 III.— Sons-in-Law 25 
 
 iy._Offsboots ?.r. 
 
 Y. — First Companionship ... ... ... 46 
 
 YI.— In Edith's Honour 64 
 
 YIL— First Influence 84 
 
 Ylir.— New Yiews 100 
 
 IX. — Confidences ... ... ... ... H^' 
 
 X.— Sisters 130 
 
 XL—The Bhie Study ... ... 151) 
 
 XII.— Cousin Peter 172 
 
 XIII.— An Ordeal 187 
 
 XIY.— Good-Bye 207 
 
 XY.-Lost 214 
 
 XYL— Laura's Yigil 226 
 
 XYIL— The First Letter 242 
 
 XYIIL— The Second Letter 262 
 
 XIX.— A Truce 2S2
 
 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE heart's desire. 
 
 Like many other men who, while possessing 
 a large share of the good things of the world 
 are yet disappointed of their heart's desire, 
 Mr. Wedgwood Hilton's life was clouded by 
 regret that he had no son to succeed him at 
 Blithefield Manor. 
 
 The fine house, built in the best style of 
 Queen Anne's days, stood in the midst of a 
 well- timbered park, which had been in the 
 possession of the Hiltons for nearly three 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 2 ' DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 centuries; but the original Elizabethan 
 mansion had been burnt down by Cromwell's 
 soldiers, who, according to tradition, had not 
 been particular in inquiries for the safety 
 of its owner and his family, one at least of 
 whom had perished in the ruins, which fact, 
 coupled with a want of money, had caused 
 a lapse of sixty years between the destruc- 
 tion of the old house and the beginning of 
 the new. But since that time the Hiltons 
 had prospered. Careful management and 
 judicious marriages had restored the family 
 to more than its former wealth ; and if the 
 present Mr. Hilton had possessed a son to 
 come after him, he Avould have been able to 
 leave him a rich man, even after giving 
 liberal portions to the five daughters whom 
 he regarded with mingled feelings of pride, 
 affection, and disappointment. He was any- 
 thmg but an inditferent father. When his 
 wife mourned over the birth of each sue-
 
 THE heart's desire. 
 
 cessive daughter, he would remark, with 
 cheerfulness: ^' The more the better, my 
 dear ; we cannot have too many of them, 
 and can only hope for a variety next time." 
 But the fifth disajDpointment was too much 
 for Mrs. Hilton ; she never held up her head 
 after it, but quietly grieved herself out of 
 the world when her youngest little girl was 
 five years old. 
 
 Mr. Hilton had no thought of marrying 
 again. To have had a son to succeed him 
 would have crowned his life, and left him 
 scarcely anything to desire; but as this 
 happiness had been denied him, he set to 
 work to make the best of it, and to educate 
 his eldest daughter for the position, as his 
 heiress, in which he intended to place her. 
 The younger gii^s should be treated with 
 justice and liberality, but they could not all 
 be eldest daughters, and they would have no 
 more right to complain at their sister being
 
 4 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 put above them than if it had been the 
 longed-for son. 
 
 There was one point on which Mr. Hilton 
 was very decided. Should Adelaide marry 
 contrary to his wishes, or should her hus- 
 band refuse to take his name and live at 
 Blithefield, there need be no difficulty, no 
 quarrel ; but the mantle would fall from her 
 shoulders to fit itself, as best it could, to 
 those of her next sister, who might, j)erhaps, 
 find it easier to fulfil the required con- 
 ditions ; and if not — why, ^^Were there not 
 {iye of them ? " said Mr. Hilton, with a 
 half -humorous shrug of his shoulders; and 
 perhaps it might even come to the turn of 
 little Erica in the end, and atone in some 
 measure for the indifference of her mother, 
 who had regarded her as the crowning droj) 
 in her cup of disappointment. 
 
 Adelaide was anxious to do her best to fit 
 herself for her proposed position, and had no
 
 THE heart's desire. 5 
 
 doubt that when the time came for her to 
 marry, there would be no difficulty about the 
 conditions exacted by her father ; but alas ! 
 soon after she was twenty she gave her heart 
 away to the rector of a neighbouring parish, 
 who had not even the choice given him of 
 changing his name and renouncing his pro- 
 fession ; for Mr. Hilton at once decided that 
 Adelaide must choose between her lover and 
 her inheritance, as he could not consent to a 
 clergyman as his successor, and had, besides, 
 a personal disinclination to the Reverend 
 Edgar Paget, whose soft manners, excellent 
 character, and handsome face, had won his 
 daughter's heart. He had nothing to say 
 against him ; he was a most estimable man, 
 to whom any girl's welfare might safely be 
 trusted, but he could never be master at 
 Blithefield ; and Adelaide, allowed to follow 
 her own wishes, retired contentedly to the 
 pretty country rectory, with ten thousand
 
 6 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 pounds, and her sister Janet stepped into her 
 
 place. 
 
 For a year or two all went smoothly. 
 
 Janet was not so capable as her sister, nor 
 
 such a good manager ; but she was willing to 
 
 learn, and thought a good deal more of her 
 
 proud position than Adelaide had ever done, 
 
 and even went so far as to attempt to stifle 
 
 an affection for a handsome young officer 
 
 when she found that her father did not care 
 
 for his society. Janet was a good girl, but 
 
 if Mr. Hilton could have had his way, he 
 
 would, from the first, have passed her over 
 
 and chosen her next sister, Edith, as his 
 
 successor. It was, of course, an advantage 
 
 that Janet should be so tractable while he 
 
 was alive to watch over and direct her ; but 
 
 she would need more firmness of character 
 
 when his death put the whole management 
 
 of affairs into her hands, and when after a 
 
 time he found that, with the best intentions,
 
 THE HEART S DESIRE. 
 
 she still showed a lamentable incapacity for 
 business, and a patient and hopeless devotion 
 to Walter Bonar, he pleased both himself and 
 her by asking her lover to the house, when 
 he came home on leave, and at the end of 
 three months gave her a gay wedding, and 
 the same portion as her elder sister, and 
 turned his attention towards the training of 
 daughter number three. 
 
 It would be scarcely too much to say 
 that for three or four years Edith Hilton 
 had regarded her chance of being mis- 
 tress of Blithefield as almost a certainty. 
 Of stronger and earlier developed cha- 
 racter than her sisters, she had clearly 
 seen the points in which they and their 
 chosen husbands had failed to meet her 
 father^ s requirements, and had carefully 
 and dutifully trained herself to avoid them. 
 She knew that her sisters had failed — not only 
 from a natural incapacity for management,
 
 8 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 but because the life they were expected to lead 
 demanded too great a sacrifice of personal 
 and domestic ease and happiness ; and she 
 resolved from the first that she would con- 
 sider her own wishes of no account in com- 
 parison with the duties her high position 
 would force upon her, if she once made up 
 her mind to accept them, and on that point 
 she never felt a moment's hesitation. Her 
 elder brother-in-law, Mr. Paget, was amiable 
 and unworldly, and about as capable of 
 managing an estate as his second son, who 
 was still in long clothes at the time of her 
 promotion ; Janet's husband. Captain Bonar, 
 was endued with more worldly wisdom, but 
 it had been misdirected ; and fancying him- 
 self a good deal more knowing than he was, 
 he had let himself get mixed up wdth a 
 rather disreputable set of companions, whom 
 he had solemnly promised to renounce before 
 Mr. Hilton would consent to intrust his
 
 THE HEAET's desire. 
 
 daughter to him. But a man, however honest 
 his reformation might be, who had a suspicion 
 of a fancy for racing and betting, was not 
 to be thought of as the master of Blithefield; 
 and although Edith knew that her father 
 would not have expressed to her a wish that 
 she should remain unmarried, she knew that 
 the only sort of person who would be 
 welcome to him as a son-in-law w^ould be a 
 sober young member of Parliament with 
 staunch Conservative views, or a country- 
 loving younger son of one of the neighbour- 
 ing noblemen, who would not at all despise 
 a connection with the Hiltons, and Blithefield 
 for a home. 
 
 It would be no great sacrifice, Edith 
 thought, if she was called upon to deny herself 
 the lot her sisters had chosen ; many women 
 were happy enough unmarried, even without 
 such prospects as hers, and having reached 
 twenty without even a passing flutter of the
 
 10 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 heart, she considered herself in little danger 
 of the weakness — which at the same time 
 she despised and admired — of losing her 
 world for love. There was nothing hard or 
 unamiable about her; she had no theories of 
 woman's rights, and rather preferred the 
 society of men ; but she did think her sisters 
 foolish, if not wrong, in so lightly throwing 
 away the grand position, the power and in- 
 fluence, which might have been theirs, for 
 the sake of the first wooers who came across 
 their path, and who, while in no way un- 
 worthy, had nothing to distinguish them from 
 the common herd. 
 
 There was every reason why — as heiress — 
 she should marry, if her choice was a wise 
 one. Even in his lifetime her father would 
 prefer to have a son-in-law who would be 
 capable of more comprehensive management 
 than was in the power of any woman, how- 
 ever gifted or willing she might be ; but the
 
 THE heart's desire. 11 
 
 one thing she dreaded was that a suitor 
 should present himself who should satisfy 
 her father and not herself, some one so ex- 
 cellent that she could not reasonably refuse 
 him, and who yet might fall far short of her 
 ideal, or take from her the power and 
 authority which was fast becoming, by an- 
 ticipation, like the breath of life to her. 
 She had no objection to a king for her 
 domain, but she must be the queen ; it must 
 be a joint reign, or perhaps, unconfessed to 
 herself, she intended her husband to be only 
 royal consort, while she remained the sove- 
 reign ruler.
 
 12 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A DISCORD. 
 
 As time went on Mr. Hilton found more and 
 more reason to congratulate himself on the 
 marriage of his elder daughters. They had 
 always been affectionate, tractable, and 
 anxious to please him ; but ability was 
 wanting, and Edith's clear understanding 
 enabled her to comprehend, almost at a 
 glance, things which to the end of their lives 
 would have been to them a hopeless puzzle. 
 But glad as he was that these excellent and 
 incapable children had chosen other paths 
 for themselves, he rejoiced even more over 
 the fact that there was no probability — at
 
 A DISCORD. IS- 
 
 least at present — of the inheritance fallings 
 to the share of his fourth daughter, Laura. 
 Rather giddy little Erica, who would never 
 be anything but a butterfly, as mistress of 
 Blithefield, than the cold, ill-tempered, un- 
 lovable girl whose otherwise aimless exist- 
 ence seemed spent in making those with 
 whom she lived discontented with .them- 
 selves, and dissatisfied with others. 
 
 The only plain one in a handsome family, 
 and the only unpleasant one in a set remark- 
 able for their amiability, Laura had from 
 childhood been rather neglected. 
 
 '^ My dear," said an out-spoken governess, 
 ^^no doubt you cannot make yourself either 
 handsome or clever, but you can make your- 
 self pleasant and useful, and therefore 
 beloved ; at present you are neither, and 
 you only make yourself of importance by the 
 power you possess of making us all uncom- 
 fortable." And this speech Laura remem-
 
 14 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 bered, and this power she prized. They 
 might look down upon her as much as they 
 pleased, they might despise her dulness, and 
 pity her unattractive appearance ; but she 
 could make them feel, and she was not 
 sparing of her power, until even her father 
 felt the burden of her ill -temper and almost 
 hated her, as a discord in the harmony of 
 the household. 
 
 If Edith should by any means forfeit the 
 inheritance, of a surety it should not go to 
 Laura. It was his to do as he pleased with, 
 and he would rather sell his cherished pro- 
 perty than let it pass into her hands. Clever 
 enough to detect and even imagine slights to 
 herself, Laura had guessed her father's inten- 
 tions; and if she had felt in need of an 
 excuse for the discomfort she caused in the 
 household, she would have considered this as 
 amply sufficient. She did not particularly 
 ivish to be mistress of Blithefield — she knew
 
 A DISCORD. 15 
 
 that the management of the estate would be 
 too difficult for her ; but she hated the idea of 
 Edith's being put so far above her, and 
 would have rejoiced if she, like her sisters, 
 liad forfeited her place. She even felt 
 capable of trying to influence her father 
 against his dearly -loved daughter, of whom 
 she felt a bitter jealousy; but she would 
 probably only fail, and expose herself to his 
 anger, and after all she would gain nothing 
 by it herself. If Edith should make an un- 
 suitable marriage, which was very unlikely, 
 she felt sure that her father would strain 
 many points to evade putting her into the 
 important place, for which he had never 
 taken the pains to make her in any way 
 fitted. 
 
 Laura's bringing up had been in every 
 way injudicious. Her plain face and un- 
 comfortable temper had made the care of 
 her a duty in which there was no satisfac-
 
 16 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 tion; and during several important years 
 of her childhood she had been systematically 
 neglected by her governesses, who, finding 
 that this pupil could never be a credit to 
 them, almost entirely passed her over after 
 her mother's death ; only gave her lessons 
 when it was quite convenient, and allowed 
 her to remain in a state of ignorance, which 
 nothing but great and continued efforts on 
 her own part in after-years could have 
 counterbalanced, and these efforts she had 
 no motive for making. She felt dull and 
 ignorant, for her faculties had never been 
 awakened ; and as after a time it was taken 
 for granted that it was a waste of labour to 
 give her more than the plainest teaching, 
 and that any accomplishment was beyond 
 her reach, she learned to think the same 
 herself, and made no attempt at improve- 
 ment. There was one thing, however, in 
 which she excelled, and to which she de-
 
 A DISCORD. 17 
 
 voted the greater part of lier time, and this 
 was needlework — not of a kind that required 
 originality, but which might be copied stitch 
 by stitch ; and over this she would sit by the 
 hour together, seldom raising her eyes from 
 her embroidery frame, and until Edith's 
 promotion aroused her jealousy, being, in 
 truth, as little interested as she seemed in 
 what went on around her. 
 
 Being only a year younger than Edith, 
 she was, of course, expected to join in her 
 amusements, and go with her into society, 
 and to this she made no objection; but the 
 only time she seemed to derive pleasure 
 from it was when she was given handsome 
 materials, and allowed to make her own 
 dress for some particular occasion ; then she 
 would shut herself up in her room, and 
 without asking help or advice from any one, 
 would appear at the proper time in a 
 costume so perfect in fit and workmanship 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 J 8 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 that even Edith regarded her with wonder 
 and envy. 
 
 Laura's awakening to more active feeling 
 happened soon after Janet's marriage. At 
 a large party at a neighbour's house she 
 was sitting as usual a little withdrawn from 
 the rest of the company, watching them 
 from the half-shelter of a curtain, when 
 two ladies sat down near her, and not 
 being aware of her presence, began to talk 
 of her. 
 
 '^ I see Mr. Hilton has brought the ugly 
 daughter out again; I really cannot under- 
 stand his • motive in doing it : she pleases no 
 one, and never seems pleased herself," said 
 Mrs. Cresset, a lady of whom Laura knew 
 little. 
 
 ^^ Well, poor girl ! " answered her com- 
 panion, Mrs. Fowler, '^ of course they can- 
 not very well keep her at home; I don't 
 believe there is anything worse about her
 
 A DISCORD. 19 
 
 ilian a bad temper, and perhajDS we should 
 not think so much of that if Edith was not 
 so very charming ; it does one good to see 
 that girl with her father : she so fond and 
 he so proud.'' 
 
 '^Yes, it is fortunate for him that Edith 
 €omes first; he must have passed Laura 
 over, she is neither clever nor good-hearted 
 enough for such a position. I wonder if 
 dilfferent training would have done anything 
 for her." 
 
 '^ I fancy not much, she seemed hopeless 
 from a child ; and I have known them all 
 their lives, you know. She was always what 
 I should call spiteful, and she frightened me 
 to-day by the look she gave out of her dull 
 eyes when some one trod on her beautiful 
 dress. I believe that is the only thing she 
 cares for, oddly enough ! " 
 
 Then sometliing else attracted the atten- 
 tion of the speakers, and Laura no longer
 
 20 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 cared to listen. She was not vexed by what 
 she had heard- — she was too well accustomed 
 to being called ugly and ill-tempered to care 
 about it; but her dislike of Edith swelled 
 into a passion as she contrasted their two 
 positions — neglect, coldness, and disfavour 
 falling to her share, while Edith possessed 
 beauty that no one could gainsay, talent — 
 at least sufficient for her father's require- 
 ments — and the love of every one who 
 learned to know her. 
 
 Laura had no pride in Blithefield, and it 
 would have given her little pain to see it 
 pass into the hands of strangers; she felt 
 like an alien from the family, and it would 
 have been difficult to adjudge the portion of 
 blame due to her and to others. No doubt 
 the neglect shown towards her in her child- 
 hood had soured her temper, but she had 
 since had many opportunities of making her- 
 self, if not beloved, at least regarded with
 
 A DISCORD. 21 
 
 liindness as she grew older; for Adelaide 
 had been too indolently indulgent to cross 
 her in anything reasonable, and Janet, from 
 a sense of duty, had tried to befriend her 
 .and bring her forward. Had the reign of 
 either lasted for a longer time the result 
 might have been different; but as it was, 
 they only succeeded in awakening in her 
 a one-sided interest in family a:ffairs, 
 which roused her jealousy but not her 
 affection. 
 
 Nor were these sisters who had been kind 
 io her at home able to do anything for her 
 since they had married. Their husbands 
 detested her, for she generally contrived to 
 disturb them by allusions to their having 
 failed to satisfy her father's requirements, and 
 did not even scruple, with a kind of mocking 
 sympathy, to class them with herself as 
 victims to the favouritism shown to Edith. 
 Cheerfully as they had accepted their wives
 
 22 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 and their portions, and excellent husbands as'- 
 they had proved themselves, they could not 
 but feel a pang of regret that beautiful 
 Blithefield was beyond their reach, especially 
 when they looked at their handsome boys, 
 whom they would have trained with strictest 
 care to fit them for the position of its master. 
 '' Poor little fellows! " said Laura one day, 
 when they were playing with their grand- 
 father and Erica on the lawn. '^ Who can 
 tell but that one of them would have been 
 the heir but for father's infatuation for 
 Edith ? " Captain Bonar's face flushed as he 
 turned silently away, but Mr. Paget would 
 not let the occasion j)ass. ^^ You are wrong 
 to make such a speech, Laura," he said 
 gravely; ^* there was never any thought of 
 Blithefield for us or for our children; nor 
 do we for a moment begrudge Edith the 
 position her good sense and good heart 
 fit her for so admirably; and you are
 
 A DISCORD. 23 
 
 disrespectful in speaking of your father in 
 such a manner." 
 
 '^ Yes, perhaps," answered Laura, coldly ; 
 ^' but I doubt if either you or Walter could 
 deny that at that moment you were think- 
 ing that one of the boys ought to be master 
 here." 
 
 Mr. Paget laughed uncomfortably, and 
 hastily joined the merry group on the lawn ; 
 but placid Adelaide roused herself, and said; 
 '^ What makes you say such disagreeable 
 things ? You have no business to speak to 
 Edgar like that ! " 
 
 But Laura only shrugged her shoulders, 
 and went on with her work ; and just 
 then Edith, in a white dress, came out to 
 join them, her face glowing with happiness 
 at this family gathering ; and with a shout of 
 joy the little ones tumbled over each other 
 to get to her. Erica ran and clasped her 
 hand, and Captain Bonar involuntarily raised
 
 24 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 liis hat as a tribute to his sister-in-law, whom 
 he thought the noblest woman in the world ; 
 but while every one else smiled upon her, 
 Laura's face grew pale with anger and 
 jealousy.
 
 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SONS-IN-LAW. 
 
 Eastee had fallen late, and the Blithefield 
 woods were carpeted with primroses, when 
 Mr. Hilton gathered a party of friends to his 
 house to celebrate Edith's twenty -first birth- 
 day. He could not follow his inclination 
 and make it a day of great rejoicing, for 
 both Adelaide's and Janet's majority had 
 been only quietly honoured ; and although in 
 his own heart he considered this daughter 
 incomparably superior to them and to every- 
 one else, it would not do to let all the world 
 into the secret. He was therefore obliged 
 to content himself with making only three
 
 26 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 or four additions to the party who had 
 assembled on former occasions, and was dis- 
 appointed of the company of his elder 
 daughters and their husbands ; Janet being 
 ke23t at home by a new baby, and Adelaide 
 by the recent death of Mr. Paget' s father. 
 
 ^'I believe it is just as well that we are 
 not going to be there/' said Adelaide to her 
 husband ; '^ for although I am sure that none 
 of us begrudge Edith her position, fallen 
 nature does give a sigh now and then at the 
 thought of our beautiful boys." 
 
 ^' Yes, yes, my dear, it is natural for 
 a mother ; but the thought must be 
 checked." 
 
 ^^ Of course, Edgar ! I don't often let it 
 come uppermost, and should never think of 
 mentioning it except to you ; but I am sure 
 Walter Bonar thinks a great deal more about 
 it than I do, especially since last summer, 
 when that uncomfortable Laura put it so
 
 SONS-IN-LAW. 27 
 
 plainl}^ before him ; she saw the effect^ and 
 often since has made opportmaities for saying- 
 the same sort of thing.'' 
 
 '^ That girl's perverted nature is one of 
 the saddest things I know," said Mr. Paget 
 sighing. " I am often strongly moved to 
 tell her how unchristian and unbearable her 
 conduct is; but she is careful to avoid giving 
 me a chance, and leaves me at the first 
 word." 
 
 '' Yes, I have noticed that, and now for 
 some reason she includes me in her general 
 dislike, although when I was at home I 
 could get on pretty well with her ; but her 
 manner to us is almost pleasant in comparison 
 with what it is to Edith. I declare some- 
 times it makes me shudder to see the bitter 
 dislike she has for her, and I could almost 
 believe she would be glad to do her an 
 injury." 
 
 '* I hope it is not so bad as that, dear; but
 
 :28 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 if jealous feelings are fostered it is, indeed, 
 hard to say where they will end." 
 
 But while the Pagets consoled themselves 
 .as best they might for their lost share in the 
 Blithefield festivities, the Bonars were not so 
 'easily satisfied. Janet's second boy was no 
 doubt a splendid little fellow, but he was a 
 great inconvenience just then, for there were 
 old friends assembled at her father's house 
 whom she seldom had a chance of meeting, 
 and it would also have been interesting to 
 see Edith doing the honours for the first 
 time to so large a party. She had never 
 been tormented by the vague envy which 
 troubled her husband, and would have simply 
 enjoyed herself without any uncomfortable 
 longings ; but with him it was different, and 
 although he well knew that he and his 
 children had not even a remote chance of 
 succeeding to Blithefield in the natural course 
 of things, he could not — strive as he would
 
 SONS-IN-LAW. 29' 
 
 and did — altogether check the thought that 
 by marriage or some other means, the sisters 
 might, one after another, fail to satisfy their 
 father's requirements, and that the estate- 
 might one day be in the market, and within 
 the compass of a very considerable fortune- 
 which he expected to inherit from a relative 
 at some future time. 
 
 No one, he thought, could reign more 
 worthily than Edith, he felt for her the 
 heartiest brotherly affection, was proud of 
 her beauty, her abilities, and the charm of 
 manner and disposition which made her 
 everywhere a favom-ite, but he scarcely felt 
 as if he could be cordial to her possible 
 husband. He had been perfectly well aware 
 when he married that he knew nothing 
 about the management of property, but 
 he would have willingly and easily learnt 
 all that was required, and he felt a 
 little sore at every one's taking it for
 
 30 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 granted tliat he was unfitted for it. He 
 could understand it well enough in the 
 case of Edgar Paget: he was a clergyman 
 to the backbone, he could never have given 
 up his profession and devoted himself to 
 worldly concerns, it would have been almost 
 a mockery to ask him; but their two cases 
 were very different, and it would have been 
 a satisfaction to him through all his life if he 
 had had the chance of refusing for himself 
 hiis wife's possible inheritance. Even now, 
 when the thought came, and could not always 
 be driven away, that Blithefield might some 
 day be for sale, it w^as not for himself that 
 he looked forward, but for his son, his first- 
 born, curly-headed darling, who, good hus- 
 band as he was, absorbed three-quarters of 
 his heart. And yet in spite of these uncom- 
 fortable and unmanageable feelings, he 
 hankered after the festivities of Blithefield, 
 and thought that, as Janet was getting on
 
 SONS-IN-LAW. 31 
 
 perfectly well and did not want him in the 
 least, he might haye been kindly urged to 
 join the party. 
 
 '^ I see no reason why you should not ride 
 over some time, Walter, and see what 
 they are all about," said his wife; and he 
 said he would do so, wishing at the same 
 time that she had suggested that she could 
 comfortably spare him for a day or two. 
 But even if she had it was probable that the 
 invitation to stay would not be given ; 
 Mr. Hilton would think it was his duty 
 to be at home; and Edith, knowing him 
 to be a fond husband and father, could 
 not have thought of suggesting that he 
 should remain. 
 
 Daisy Lodge — where the Bonars lived — 
 for Walter had left the army wlien he mar- 
 ried — was six miles from Blithefield, just 
 outside the country town of Mornington. It 
 was a pleasant little old-fashioned house,
 
 32 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 covered with verandahs and creepers, and 
 had a good-sized garden, in which Captain 
 Bonar worked indefatigably, and which gave 
 him his cliief occupation, besides his daily 
 ride on the handsome horse which had been 
 his father-in-law's wedding present. The 
 Bonars were comfortably off, and being so 
 nearly connected with Blithefield, were people 
 of some consequence in the neighbourhood, 
 although they went little into society, and 
 preferred living quietly ; but Janet never, if 
 she could help it, refused an invitation from 
 her father, and was much vexed at being 
 unable to take her share in the present 
 festivities. 
 
 '' Do ride over, Walter, and see what they 
 are doing," she said, the day after the 
 guests were expected. '^And you might 
 ask Mrs. Mathewson to come and see baby 
 this afternoon. I am sure Edith will hardly 
 know what to do with an old lady; so it
 
 vSOXS-IN-LAW. 33 
 
 will be quite a kindness to her, and I should 
 not at all mind your leaving me if you 
 care to dine there — indeed, I should like 
 it, for you could tell me all about it after- 
 wards." 
 
 '' Oh, I scarcely think I shall do that ! " 
 said Captain Bonar; but he was pleased 
 with the idea, and with her for suggesting 
 it, and rewarded her by pretending to 
 admire the ugly little three-days-old baby, 
 who was, she assured him, the very image 
 of himself. ^^ And I should not be surprised 
 if he was even handsomer than Phil," she 
 said; ^^for I am afraid Phil's nose will 
 never be a good shape, and I can see 
 already that baby's will be just like yours." 
 An insult which her husband could scarcely 
 resent, and so passed over in judicious 
 silence. 
 
 '^ So you really wish me, dear, to go and 
 give messages to Edith and your aunt," he 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 said diplomatically, and being assured that 
 this was the case, he followed his own 
 inclination, and set o£E with an easy- 
 conscience.
 
 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OFFSHOOTS. 
 
 There was one guest at Blitliefield who, 
 without being aware of it herseK, had been 
 brought there for a special purpose. Mary 
 Vemey — a girl about Edith's age — was an 
 orphan, with a small fortune of hej own, 
 enough to keep her from the necessity of 
 earning her living, but not enough to enable 
 her to live indejDendently. Her aunt, Mrs. 
 Mathewson, in whose care she had been 
 placed, was a cousin of Mr. Hilton's, and 
 had been a good friend and wise counsellor 
 to him since his wife's death. She had en- 
 couraged Adelaide and Janet in making the 
 happy marriages for which they were so much
 
 36 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 better suited than for the position for which 
 they had endeavoured to fit themselves ; she 
 had pointed out to him the parts of Edith's 
 character to the development of which she 
 thought his attention ought to be specially- 
 directed, and she had proved to be right ; 
 she had advised him to send Erica to school, 
 and had so relieved Edith from the difficulty 
 of having in the house a governess older and 
 wiser than herself, and yet to whom she 
 could no longer defer ; and now finding how 
 hopelessly unamiable and unhelpful Laura 
 continued to be, she had persuaded him to 
 ask her niece Mary Verney to the house for 
 an indefinite visit, to be a companion to 
 Edith and to go with her into society, where 
 Laura's presence was more pain than pleasure 
 to herself and others. But in bringing Mar}^ 
 to Blithefield just then Mrs. Mathewson had 
 a double object. She wished to persuade 
 Mr. Hilton to spare his dearly-loved daughter
 
 OFFSHOOTS. 37 
 
 to her for a while, and she thought that 
 Mary's company would make the house en- 
 durable to him in her absence, which it 
 certainly would not be with only Laura for a 
 companion. Mary was bright, and cheerful, 
 and unassuming, and Mr. Hilton, who had 
 known her from a child, was disposed to 
 think would be a pleasant addition to the 
 family at any rate until Erica, who was 
 now sixteen, was old enough to take her. 
 place at home ; but it was understood that 
 none of the girls should be told of the 
 proposed arrangement until they were all 
 better acquainted, but that Mary should 
 simply be left behind for a long visit, until 
 they saw how matters turned out. 
 
 Mrs. Mathewson had set her heart on 
 taking Edith with her to London for two 
 months, and giving her the advantage of 
 glimpses into a wider world than was to be 
 seen at Blithefield. It was not to be ex-
 
 38 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 pected that she would learn much in so short 
 a time, but she would at least see that a 
 country neighbourhood, however admirable^ 
 did not embrace everything that was good 
 in the world ; and her standard of qualifi- 
 cations for her husband and the f utm^e master 
 of Blithefield must necessarily be raised, by 
 meeting other people who were well w^orth 
 knowing, and who were able to combine- 
 mental culture with a practical knowledge of 
 the management of a rather difficult estate. 
 There were two types of men of whom Mrs. 
 Mathewson had a horror, and to one of these 
 she feared that Edith would fall a victim,, 
 unless she should be made acquainted with a 
 variety of excellencies. 
 
 Of the Eton and Oxford bred sons of 
 country gentlemen there were several in 
 the neighbom-hood of Blithefield, who were, 
 no doubt, well-principled, intelligent, and 
 unaffected, but narrow, and as it seemed
 
 OFFSHOOTS. 39 
 
 iatentionally so, their hunters, their game 
 preserves, their cricket clubs and county 
 meetings formed their world, and as they 
 were now they would be to the end of their 
 days ; and should one of them marry a 
 woman whose aims were somewhat wider, 
 who wished to combine the virtues of the 
 country with the intelligence of the town, 
 there would surely be discord and collision 
 in the house. The second type, although 
 less commonly to be met with, was even 
 more to be feared, — the young parliamentary 
 prig, a son perhaps of some noble family, 
 who would talk and think a great deal of his 
 duties, would take his wife away from home 
 for several months in the year, would 
 manage the estate by his own theories and 
 despise her practical knowledge, and would 
 be quite incapable of the hearty, kindly, 
 wholesome intercourse which Mr. Hilton 
 held with all those connected with him, and
 
 40 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 which seemed to have come by nature to 
 those of his children who resembled him, 
 and to Edith most of all. 
 
 Mrs. Mathewson had no wish to under- 
 take the responsibility of finding a husband 
 for her ; she would be quite contented with 
 teaching her whom to avoid ; and she would 
 have been far better pleased if she could 
 have persuaded Mr. Hilton to accompany 
 his daughter to London, and have thus 
 enlarged his views also. But this she knew 
 was impossible, and she was obliged to be 
 satisfied with his promise, given very unwil- 
 lingly on the first evening of her arrival, 
 that if Edith seemed anxious to go he would 
 do nothing to prevent her. 
 
 Besides Mary Verney, Mrs. Mathewson 
 had brought with her to Blithefield a 
 nephew, whose home had lately been broken 
 up, and who was for the present in want of 
 everything, occupation, interests, and, not
 
 OFFSHOOTS. 41 
 
 least, money, wherewith to give himself a 
 start in life. It was not altogether Greoffrey 
 Poland's own fault that at twenty-eight he 
 found himself in this condition, for he had 
 been forced into a life he hated, in a Govern- 
 ment office, by his father, just when he had 
 set his heart on going to Oxford, and, fresh 
 from a rather brilliant career at Marlborough, 
 had a good chance of distinguishing himself. 
 At the end of three years his father died, 
 leaving him a few thousand pounds, and 
 seeing no prospect of getting on in the 
 position which had been chosen for him, he 
 threw it up, followed his own inclination, 
 and went through Oxford with credit, but 
 with none of the distinction which he might 
 have gained a few years before, and then 
 found that he had nothing in the world to 
 do with himself. He could not afford to be 
 idle, and yet had no inclination or special 
 aptitude for any profession ; he would be
 
 42 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ashamed to continue long doing nothings 
 but for awhile it was pleasant enough,, 
 especially as his aunt, Mrs. Mathewson, 
 was delighted to give him a home, and he' 
 could always quiet his scruples by deciding 
 that at some not very distant time he would 
 go abroad, and find that indefinite '' some- 
 thing to do " in which so many seem to^ 
 implicitly believe. 
 
 Geoffrey was not altogether an agreeable 
 man, he was inclined to be self-absorbed 
 and dogmatic ; but his aunt understood him, 
 and having no other near relations, he gave 
 to her all the affection which might have 
 been bestowed on a mother and sisters. He 
 was a handsome man, but scarcely pleasing ; 
 his distasteful work had given him a look of 
 discontent, and being several years older 
 than most men of his standing at Oxford, he 
 had kept to himself, and grown reserved 
 and melancholy. About a month before the
 
 OFFSHOOTS. 43 
 
 yisit to BKthefield, his peace had been dis- 
 turbed by Mary Verney's coming to stay 
 with her aunt for an indefinite time. He 
 had never been accustomed to girls, and did 
 not like them ; and being unsettled and 
 vaguely unhappy, Mary's cheerfulness — 
 which Mrs. Mathewson had hoped would 
 have a good effect upon him — was, instead, 
 a constant jar; and longing for quiet, and 
 having a fancy just then for trying what 
 he could do in the way of literary work, 
 he shut himself up in his aunt's library, and 
 seldom appeared except at meal times. 
 
 Mary, who was simple and natural, and 
 all her life had been popular with every one, 
 had begun by cordially claiming cousinship, 
 and demanding his interest in her pursuits ; 
 but he had responded so coldly that she was 
 offended, and, being quick-tempered, did not 
 attempt to conceal that she disliked and 
 even in some measure desj^ised him; for to
 
 44 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 her energetic mind he seemed to be wasting 
 the best years of his life, and indulging 
 in unpardonable indolence, in taking so much 
 time for consideration before making a fresh 
 «tart. 
 
 It was not, therefore, entirely from 
 disinterested motives that Mrs. Mathewson 
 urged upon Mr. Hilton the advantage of 
 having Mary at Blithefield. Geo:ffrey was 
 far dearer to her than her niece could ever 
 be, and the longer he stayed with her the 
 better she would be pleased ; but she knew 
 that the discordant element in the house 
 would soon drive him away, and she deter- 
 mined that it should be removed, if it could 
 be managed without injustice to Mary. 
 
 Geoiffrey had been unwilling to go to 
 Blithefield; but his aunt strongly wished it, 
 and it was so seldom that she asked any- 
 thing from him, that he could not refuse, 
 especially as he had serious thoughts of
 
 OFFSHOOTS. 45 
 
 leaving her as soon as they returned, and 
 going for a few months' travel, to see if 
 new scenes and new companions would 
 suggest the hitherto unfound niche into 
 which he could fit himself for the remainder 
 of his life.
 
 46 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 
 
 The party whom Captain Bonar found 
 assembled at luncheon in the large hall at 
 Blithefield, which they used for every meal 
 excepting dinner, consisted, besides Mrs. 
 Mathewson and her nephew and niece, of 
 five or six people, all of whom were rela- 
 tions; but, as Mr. Hilton said, they were 
 particularly fortunate in their relations, and 
 he had brought up his girls to look upon 
 their cousins as supplementary brothers and 
 .sisters. 
 
 There was one amongst them whom 
 •everybody liked, and who was treated by 
 the whole family with indulgent kindness.
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 47 
 
 He had bestowed his affections on each 
 reigning sister in turn, but did not consider 
 himself mercenary in so doing ; it was only 
 a sort of worship of the highest, and the 
 position of the mistress of Blithefield did 
 seem to him very high, and he longed to 
 win her, although if he had done so he 
 would have been much embarrassed. His 
 sliding scale of devotion was a great joke 
 in the Hilton family; but Peter was quite 
 inoffensive, and even Captain Bonar, who 
 guarded his young sisters-in-law as jealously 
 as if he had been really their brother, could 
 not look upon his attentions as impertinent. 
 
 Peter had fully determined to make an 
 offer to Edith during this visit : he was not 
 going to let a prize escape him for want of 
 asking for it, and every one in the house — 
 Edith included — guessed his intention, and 
 was amused by it. He was an idle man, 
 but had quite enough to live comfortably
 
 48 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 upon, and was a favourite amongst his rela- 
 tions, especially with Erica, who, just as 
 Walter entered the hall, sent the whole 
 party into a roar of laughter by saying, with 
 gravity and apparent innocence : ^' What- 
 ever you do. Cousin Peter, please, don't 
 make me an offer when I am grown up, for 
 I should be quite certain to say Yes," and 
 Peter answered with equal gravity : 
 
 '^ No, my dear, I don't think you need be 
 alarmed ; you would always be too flighty 
 to suit me, even when weighted with addi- 
 tional years and wisdom ! " 
 
 And then Erica stopped her brother-in- 
 law in his progress round the table to give 
 him a kiss, and introduce him to Mary 
 Verney. 
 
 The other members of the company were 
 not particularly interesting. There were the 
 Wedgwoods, a self-absorbed young married 
 couple; Rachel Allen and her barrister
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. ' 49 
 
 brother and two Misses Hamilton, none of 
 whom had ever missed being present at 
 weddings or other festivities at Blithefield; 
 and an old Colonel Arnold, just come back 
 from India, completed the party. 
 
 '' Very glad to see you, Bonar ! " said Mr. 
 Hilton, heartily, ^^and doubly so, as your 
 coming means good news of Janet.'' 
 
 '' Yes, she is very well, and it was she 
 who sent me. She wants you, Mrs. Mathew- 
 son, and any other baby-worshippers of 
 the company, to go and see her new play- 
 thing." 
 
 ^^ Poor Janet ! It was good of her to give 
 an excuse for your coming; but I daresay 
 she did not much like it," said Laura, dis- 
 agreeably. 
 
 *^Why not?" asked Peter, wonderingly; 
 but no one else thought of noticing Laura's 
 speeches. 
 
 *^ I was longing for an invitation, Walter,'^ 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 said Mrs. Mathewson, pleasantly. ^' I have 
 not seen Janet since her wedding-day ; but 
 she has written me many a letter in praise of 
 Daisy Lodge, and I long to see it and her ; 
 and to tell you the truth, I so fully expect 
 to be asked to be godmother, that I have 
 got the christening cup already in my 
 trunk." 
 
 ^^ I do believe. Aunt Sarah, you would be 
 godmother to all the world if you could," 
 said Erica, laughing, ^^and give it — them 
 — silver cups ! 0, Peter, wliich is right ? 
 my grammar will get mixed sometimes." 
 
 ^^Well!" answered Peter slowly, '^you 
 see, it all depends on the sense in which you 
 use the word. If you mean to take the world 
 as an aggregate of individuals" — but here 
 he was interrupted by a general shout of 
 laughter, and one excellent thing about him 
 was, that he did not mind being laughed at ; 
 and when Erica patted him on the back and
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 51 
 
 cried, ^^ Bravo, Peter! " he was quite satisfied ; 
 for he wished to be amusing, and often found 
 that he was so, although he was seldom quite 
 sure how he had managed it. The only- 
 two grave faces at the table were Laura's 
 and Greofeey Poland's. Laura seldom 
 laughed, certainly not at Peter, whom she 
 detested ; for he had a way of saying with 
 apparent simplicity very cutting things 
 about her unpleasant manner, and would 
 sometimes stare at her as if she was some- 
 thing incomprehensible when she gave an 
 ill-tempered answer to her father or sisters. 
 As for Geoffrey, he was altogether in a bad 
 humour that day. His aunt had talked to 
 him a great deal of Edith, of her good 
 looks, good disposition, and earnest endeavour 
 to please and satisfy her father, until he felt 
 convinced that this paragon, like all others, 
 must be odious, and had determined before- 
 hand to avoid her as far as possible ; but
 
 52 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 almost immediately lie had been obliged to 
 confess to himself that his gracious young 
 hostess had not been over-rated. He could 
 not wonder that most people were fascinated ; 
 but then he was glad to say, he was not like 
 most people, and he rather disliked her the 
 more for having upset his preconceived idea. 
 No doubt she was a very good sort of girl, 
 just of the kind to be popular, but for 
 himself he should prefer that pale, quiet 
 sister, who, unamiable as she appeared, had 
 probably a great deal more in her than the 
 rest of the family put together. So, to the 
 surprise of every one, and not least of Laura 
 herself, he gave the chief part of his atten- 
 tion to her ; not that he found her agreeable, 
 but that it suited his humour to go contrary 
 to other people ; and having given way to 
 his aunt's wishes by coming to Blithefield, 
 he thought he had done all that could be 
 expected of him, and was not bound to be
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 53 
 
 more sociable than he chose. Mrs. Mathew- 
 son was rather amused than amazed by his 
 contrariety; it was much more convenient 
 than if he had taken it into his head to 
 develop a hopeless passion for Edith, and 
 it was a good thing to have Laura's atten- 
 tion occupied, so that she had little time for 
 making herself unpleasant. 
 
 Before Walter had been in the room ten 
 minutes, Mr. Hilton resolved to take a 
 mean advantage of him, and throw upon 
 his shoulders the burden of entertaining this 
 somewhat difficult guest, who having hurt 
 his hand was unable to join the rest of the 
 party at tennis, and was not at all easy to 
 dispose of. The offer of a sort of general 
 stroll round had been refused in the morning, 
 but Geofcey had afterwards become some- 
 what ashamed of betraying his ill-humour, 
 and at the beginning of luncheon had 
 civilly begged to be allowed to accompany
 
 54 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 his host in his afternoon ramble. But 
 although Mr. Hilton had agreed, he was still 
 offended, felt no inclination for the society 
 of this ^^ young weather-cock," and con- 
 gratulated himself not a little on his bright 
 idea of making his son-in-law take his 
 place. 
 
 '' Poland was going to stroll with me 
 through the oak wood this afternoon, Bonar," 
 he said ; '' but I remember that I have letters 
 to write, and will ask you to be my repre- 
 sentative ; you might take a look at the 
 clearing we made in the autumn, and see 
 how you think it looks, now that the 
 timber has been taken away.'' 
 
 ^^ I have just promised Erica to be her 
 partner at tennis," answered Walter re- 
 luctantly ; '^ but, of course, the match can 
 stand over until another day." 
 
 ^^ If Mr. Poland only wants a guide, I can 
 offer my services," said Laura, quietly. ^^ I
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 55 
 
 am going to the lodge for my embroidery 
 silks, which the carrier was to leave there 
 last night." 
 
 At least half the people at the table looked 
 at Laura, in amazement at her offering to 
 do anything for anybody ; but although she 
 was quite conscious of their surprise, she 
 took no notice, and G-eoffrey hastened to 
 assure her that he should be delighted to 
 accompany her ; not that this was at all true, 
 for he could not persuade himself that he 
 liked her society ; but if Mr. Hilton did not 
 choose to go with him, he certainly would not 
 be bored with the company of that ^^self- 
 conceited puppy" over whom Edith and Erica 
 were making such a fuss ; for although Walter 
 did not deserve that description, he was 
 rather too particular about his clothes and 
 moustache, and would have looked the better 
 for a little neglect ; but he was a handsome 
 man, and knew it, and took a pleasure in his
 
 56 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 good looks, while Geofcey went almost too 
 far the other way, and did not condescend 
 to soften the ruggedness of his clever, hard- 
 featured face, by either beard or moustache, 
 although his aunt had persistently en- 
 deavoured to persuade him to it. 
 
 But although Geoffrey appeared satisfied 
 at the prospect of the walk, Edith, knowing 
 what an unpleasant companion Laura 
 generally contrived to make herself, felt 
 bound to interfere. 
 
 '' Would you not rather drive with some 
 of our party to Mornington to-day, Mr. 
 Poland, and wait for the walk until to- 
 morrow, when father could go with 
 you?" she said, not meaning to vex her 
 sister, but to provide due entertainment for 
 her guest. 
 
 But although Geoffrey would have much 
 preferred the drive he could not well refuse 
 Laura's offer, and half an hour later lounged
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 57 
 
 through the park by her side, at least 
 enjoying the April sunshine. 
 
 ^^I hope you will light your pipe, Mr. 
 Poland," said Laura, after rather a long 
 silence, which succeeded their first remarks 
 on the beauty of the day. ^^I am not 
 at all accustomed to the consideration 
 you might show to Edith or to any 
 other lady, and should not object to it 
 at all." 
 
 Geoffrey took advantage of this somewhat 
 ungracious permission, and then felt bound 
 to try to be agreeable. 
 
 •' What a pride you must all take in this 
 beautiful place ! " he said. ^^ It has been in 
 your family for hundreds of years, has it 
 not ? " 
 
 '^Yes; and no doubt all the others are 
 proud of it, as you say ; but I scarcely feel 
 as if I had a right to share in their feel- 
 ing."
 
 58 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^andeed?" 
 
 ^^ Why, you see, I know that father would 
 never give the place to me. With the others 
 it has been different, they have all, except 
 Erica, had their chance ; but, of course, I 
 know that I have none." 
 
 ^^Why not?" asked Geoffrey, in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 ^^ My father has done nothing to fit me for 
 the position, and I could not fill it. He — 
 — well — I will say — he is not proud of me 
 as he is of the others, and if it could be 
 possible for Edith to displease him, I feel 
 sure that he would make my incapacity an 
 excuse for passing me over ; he has Erica to 
 fall back upon, and she is being well 
 educated." 
 
 Of com^se, Geoffrey could not know how 
 distorted and unfair this account of matters 
 was, and felt that he had no business to be 
 receiving such a confidence at all ; but Laura
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 59' 
 
 had no intention of changing the subject 
 just yet, and went on — 
 
 ^^ I daresay, being a sort of connection, 
 you have heard all about it — that my father 
 means to give Blithefield to the first of his 
 daughters who marries to please him, and I 
 am sure that Edith will do that somehow ; 
 but I think it is very unfair on my brothers- 
 in-law that they should both have been 
 passed over because she was always my 
 father's favourite." 
 
 This was very embarrassing, and Geoffrey 
 tried to change the subject by suddenly 
 pointing to a splendid cock pheasant which 
 was sunning his gorgeous plumage a few 
 yards from them ; but Laura just glanced at 
 him, and returned to her subject. 
 
 ^^ If I were Edith I should be almost 
 ashamed to see Edgar and Walter, and still 
 more mv sisters ; but fortunately for her she 
 does not feel it in that wav."
 
 60 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 '^ Fortunately, indeed!" said Geoffrey, 
 ^' especially as she can be in no way to blame. 
 Now, Miss Hilton, is that the lodge we are 
 iDound for, down there amongst the trees ? " 
 and then he contrived by asking many 
 questions to avoid further confidences for 
 the time. But when they had reached the 
 lodge, and turned homewards again, he found 
 himself at a loss for conversation, and Laura 
 took advantage of it. 
 
 '' What a terrible misfortune it is that we 
 have no brother ! " she exclaimed, as her 
 companion expressed his admiration for 
 the splendid oak woods which stretched 
 away on either side. ^^It is such a 
 dreadful idea that a stranger may some day 
 be master here. I do think that if Edith is 
 to inherit Blithefield she ought to remain 
 unmarried ! " 
 
 "' I am afraid that is rather short-sighted," 
 answered Geoffrey, laughing; ^Hhe difficulty
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 61 
 
 would only be removed one generation ; slie 
 must leave it to some one." 
 
 '' Of course, but perhaps none of us would 
 be alive to see it pass into a stranger's hands." 
 Laura was surprised at herself for this newly 
 developed pride in Blithefield, which certainly 
 in general she was far from feeling ; but that 
 day it had fallen to her share for the first 
 time to exhibit its beauties to an appreciative 
 new-comer, and it had awakened in her a 
 passing — but for the moment genuine — en- 
 thusiasm, which aroused great pity for her 
 in Geoffrey's mind ; for although he thought 
 her unattractive, and could see that she was 
 unamiable, he also saw that she was neglected, 
 and did not know that it was from her own 
 fault, and that from most people she would 
 have rejected kindness almost as an insult. 
 But with him it was different, he had not 
 attempted to be kind, he had simply talked 
 to her apparently because she wished it, and
 
 ■62 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 she was not clear-sighted enough to detect 
 the perverse ill-humour which led him for 
 the time to thwart even his own inclina- 
 tions. 
 
 After all, he thought, if it was a relief to 
 this poor lonely girl to tell him her grievances 
 it did not much matter to any one, he would 
 never betray her confidences ; so he let her 
 talk on, until by the end of their walk he 
 knew nearly as much of the history of the 
 Hilton family as there was to know ; but he 
 reserved to himself the right of judging their 
 characters from his own observation, rather 
 than from Laura's warped and unloving 
 descriptions. 
 
 ** I do not think I have ever had a long 
 talk in my life before," she said pathetically, 
 turning round on the door-steps to look at 
 her companion, with more gentleness than 
 her face had often worn ; and Geoffrey re- 
 solved that he would be kind to her during
 
 FIRST COMPANIONSHIP. 63 
 
 the few days of his visit, and was sufficiently- 
 interested in her to intend, if possible, to find 
 out the reason for the general disfavour with 
 which she was regarded.
 
 64 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN Edith's honour. 
 
 Although Mr. Hilton had contrived to avoid 
 the task of entertaining his uncongenial 
 guest, the letters which had furnished him 
 with an excuse made but little progress, and 
 as soon as Mrs. Mathewson returned from 
 her visit to Mrs. Bonar, he sought her out 
 and settled down to a long talk with her. 
 
 '^ Well, Sarah," he began, ^^may I inquire 
 what you hope to do in the end with that 
 surly nephew of yours ? " 
 
 '' Not that, Wedgwood ! Not surly." 
 ^^ Well, perhaps, I should not have used the 
 word ; your — um ! — unsociable nephew : will 
 that do?"
 
 IN Edith's honour. 65 
 
 ^^ Has he ever been uncivil to you ? '' 
 asked Mrs. Mathewson, with some resent- 
 ment. 
 
 '' Not exactly, but several times since he 
 came yesterday he has made me feel that 
 although I am his host, he would rather be 
 without my company. No, he has never 
 been uncivil — I could not say that, Sarah; 
 but his patience, when I have been talking 
 of subjects which interest me, has been too 
 studied, and he is as yet perhaps too young 
 a man to realise that affected interest in an 
 old man's crotchets is, if detected, almost an 
 insult. I do not doubt he means well, but 
 he takes little pains to conceal that he con- 
 siders the theories of the rising generation of 
 infinitely more value than the careful and 
 practical experience of a man of more than 
 double his age." 
 
 ^^ Surely, Wedgwood, you must have mis- 
 understood him ! He has strong opinions^ 
 VOL. I. r
 
 66 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 and is rather obstinate in maintaining them, 
 that I will not deny ; but I do not believe he 
 ever intended, at least openly, to set his 
 judgment before yours. Poor boy! his life 
 has been sadly mismanaged, and if now that 
 he is left entirely to his own guidance he 
 goes rather into extremes, who can wonder, 
 or blame ? " 
 
 '^ No, no, I do not blame — at least, not 
 much. I respect a young fellow who has the 
 courage to uphold strong and disagreeable 
 convictions ; I only say that his manner 
 might be pleasanter. I have seen Edith 
 open her eyes in astonishment more than 
 once when he has not taken the pains to 
 conceal his contempt for some of my old- 
 world notions." 
 
 '' Wedgwood, you are accusing my nephew 
 of failing to be a gentleman ! " 
 
 '' No, I do not mean that. I have little 
 doubt that his manner would be tolerated or
 
 IN Edith's honour. 67 
 
 even approved by most particular people, of 
 a sort, nowadays ; but I only say it does not 
 suit my ideas of courtesy. At luncheon, when 
 Edith ask him to join the driving party, he 
 refused more curtly than I thought fitting in 
 speaking to a lady ; but at least I shall have 
 the comfort of knowing that while she is 
 staying with you, no love-making will go on 
 from that quarter, and shall have no misgiv- 
 ings in trusting her to your wise and kind 
 keeping." 
 
 '^ Yes, I think you may be easy on that 
 point," answered Mrs. Mathewson, laughing. 
 ^^I confess that Greoffrey is a little beyond 
 my comprehension. Why, with a house- 
 full of pleasant, attractive girls he should 
 devote nearly all his attention to Laura is 
 odd; but I never saw the poor child so 
 amiable to any one before, and one only 
 wishes she would be the same to the rest 
 of the household."
 
 68 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^ It would be an uncommonly good thing 
 for us all if she a ad Poland took a fancy to 
 each other," said Mr. Hilton, who in general 
 hated the idea of matchmaking, but had 
 suffered too much from Laura's temper not 
 to be eager to place her in the safe keeping 
 of some one else. 
 
 " Well, I scarcely think I should be satis- 
 fied for Geoffrey," answered Mrs. Mathew- 
 son ; '' you know I think a great deal of him, 
 and could not v/ish him to marry a girl who 
 contrives to make even her own family 
 anxious to get rid of her." 
 
 ^^ Her ten thousand j)C)^iids would be 
 worth his having," suggested Mr. Hilton. 
 
 ^' Wedgwood, I am astonished at you! I 
 don't know you to-day I If you thought 
 Geoffrey could marry her for that, I can 
 scarcely imagine you would be willing to 
 trust her in his hands." 
 
 ^^No, no, of course not; but sometimes
 
 IN Edith's honour. 69 
 
 ^ our domestic cross ' — as Paget calls her — is 
 difficult to bear with, and m}^ poor Edith has 
 suffered sadly from her temper lately." 
 
 "Well — one can forgive her for feeling 
 considerable envy of her fortunate sister — 
 beauty, riches, and her father's love, which 
 for all we know might be a precious posses- 
 sion to her if she could ever gain it." 
 
 Mr. Hilton looked uncomfortable. " Of 
 course, I do love the child in a certain way, I 
 would do anything for her good ; but even 
 you, Sarah, can hardly call her lovable." 
 
 '^No, and so you cannot wonder that I 
 am not particularly anxious that she should 
 fall to Geoffrey's share ; but here they come 
 up the avenue, and I suppose it is time for 
 Edith to give us some tea." 
 
 There was to be a large dinner j^arty at 
 Blithefield that evening, and no one would 
 have been either surprised or annoyed if, 
 as had often happened before, Laura had
 
 70 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 refused to appear. In all unimportant 
 matters she was allowed, for the sake of 
 peace, to take her own way unquestioned ; 
 but Edith was anxious that her sister should 
 not hold herself aloof on this occasion, and 
 went to her room before dinner to try all her 
 arts of persuasion if she found it necessary ; 
 but to her surjDrise she found Laura ready 
 dressed, and was almost startled at the effect 
 which a little well-chosen adornment had 
 made in her appearance. Her dress of pale 
 green, which had been chosen for a garden 
 party the year before, was almost severely 
 simple, but, being made by her own hands, 
 suited her to perfection, and was trimmed 
 here and there with bunches of delicate 
 geraniums, exactly matching the pale pink 
 coral ornaments which had fallen to her 
 share from her mother's jewel case. 
 
 ^^ My dear Laura ! what have you done to 
 yourself ? you look perfectly lovely I '^
 
 IN Edith's honour. 71 
 
 exclaimed Edith in amazement; ^' I never 
 saw you with such a colour in your cheeks, 
 or dressed with such care. Is it all to do 
 honour to my birthday ?" /' 
 
 Laura laughed a little awkwardly. '^ Yes, 
 that is just it/' she said; '^ I supposed you 
 would like me to look as well as I could, 
 and as neither you nor father offered me a 
 new dress, I made the best I could of 
 this." 
 
 Edith felt a pang of self-reproach. It was 
 an undoubted fact that she did neglect 
 Laura ; but then she courted neglect. 
 
 ^^ My dear child ! " she exclaimed, '^ if we 
 had thought that you would join in any of 
 the parties, you would have had just the 
 same dresses as I have." 
 
 ^^No, no, Edith! stick to facts! I am 
 not the heiress : what does it matter how / 
 am dressed ? " 
 
 '^ I confess it makes a difference," answered
 
 72 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Edith, candidly and with dignity; "but you 
 would have had the same as Erica." 
 
 "' The schoolgirl ! Thank you ! I think I 
 pre-^'^r my -own scarcity to that ! " 
 
 "' Really, Laura, you are very difficult to 
 understand. If father had given you the 
 most beautiful dress in the world, you would 
 have managed somehow to make him feel 
 that he was insulting you ; but I must make 
 haste down now — will you come with me ? " 
 
 "No, thank you, I have no fancy for 
 humbly following after the sun." 
 
 " A good thing for the sun on this occa- 
 sion, for it might be eclipsed," answered 
 Edith good temperedly, and then ran down 
 stairs, fervently wishing that it was possible 
 to do even her duty to Laura. 
 
 The dinner party was large, and some- 
 what dull, and was intended chiefly to show 
 attention to those of the neighbom^s who 
 would not care to be present at the dance on
 
 IN Edith's honour. 73 
 
 the following evening, wliicli was the chief 
 event to Edith and her younger visitors. It 
 was the first time she had been called upon 
 to entertain so large a party^ and a con- 
 sciousness of attention, and perhaps criticism, 
 brought a flush to her cheeks, although she 
 showed no other sign of nervousness, and 
 filled her place with dignity. Her father 
 watched her with undisguised pride, and 
 even Geoffrey w^as obliged to acknowledge 
 to himself that he could scarcely find a fault 
 in the manner of the young mistress of 
 Blithefield; but there was no doubt that 
 her beauty was greatly overrated, and he 
 did not himself admire the mixture of very 
 dark hair and large, light grey eyes, which 
 no one had ever thought of calling blue. 
 
 '^ Do you not feel proud of our cousin 
 to-night, Mr. Poland ? " asked Rachel Allen, 
 one of the guests staying in the house, by 
 whom Geoffrey was seated at dinner.
 
 74 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^ I think your cousin suits her place very 
 well/' he answered languidly. 
 
 ^' Our cousin — I suppose she is yours as 
 well as mine." 
 
 ^' I donH know, I am sm'e ; I never thought 
 of claiming the relationship." 
 
 '^ Detestable man I " thought Rachel, who 
 in common with the rest of the girls in the 
 house, had taken a strong dislike to him, 
 and had only consented to go in to dinner 
 with him to please Edith, who had found 
 difficulty in arranging the guests. ^^ Of 
 com^se she always fills her place well," she 
 went on aloud, '' but to-night she does more. 
 I think her manner is simply perfect, so 
 natural and dignified, although she must 
 feel frightened to death." 
 
 ^^ For what reason ? " asked Geoffrey, 
 looking with some interest at this warm 
 partisan. 
 
 ^« Why, of course, at entertaining so many
 
 IN Edith's honour. 75 
 
 people for the first time, and knowing that 
 every one is thinking of her and noticing 
 her." 
 
 ^^ Is every one ?" 
 
 ^' Of course I We have all of ns only 
 come to do her honour." 
 
 ^' I cannot say I had thought of it in that 
 light. I knew Miss Hilton's birthday was 
 the pretext for this gathering ; but 1 imagined 
 that any other would have done as well." 
 
 ^^ Really, Mr. Poland, that is almost 
 incredible ; I think you wish to differ from 
 us all, and I believe there is not another 
 person in the house who has not paid some 
 sort of homage to the queen of the occasion." 
 
 Geoffrey laughed. ^^The queen must be 
 a little weary, I think, and my silence 
 must be better than a gift," he said; ^^but. 
 Miss Allen, I do feel a sort of fascination at 
 present in watching your cousin ; I wonder 
 if, when your attention is drawn, you will be
 
 76 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 equally affected. Does not that chandelier 
 hanging just over her head strike you as 
 painfully threatening ? I have watched it 
 for some minutes now, and could almost 
 persuade myself I see it trembling in pre- 
 paration for a fall." 
 
 Rachel looked up in momentary alarm, 
 but the light dazzled her, and she could see 
 nothing. 
 
 The dining room was long and narrow, 
 and lighted by fine antique bronze chande- 
 liers, hanging by chains from the dark oak 
 roof. The dinner that evening being large, 
 the table had been lengthened, and Edith's 
 place was exactly underneath one of these 
 chandeliers, and when attention was called 
 to it her position was, as Geofcey said, un- 
 pleasantly suggestive of danger. Unable to 
 get rid of the impression, yet believing it to 
 be entirely his own fancy, he raised his eyes 
 to the light over and over again, and at
 
 IN Edith's honour. 77 
 
 length was so convinced that this one 
 chandelier vibrated, while all the others 
 were steady, that he questioned the footman 
 at that moment at his side concerning its 
 safety. The man glanced at it, and seeing 
 that it looked all right, and being very busy, 
 he gave a hasty assurance that there was 
 nothing wrong, and passed on. 
 
 ^^ You seem very uneasy, Mr. Poland," 
 said Rachel, lightly, thinking what a queer 
 man he was, and that the last thing she 
 would have expected in hin^ was nervousness. 
 
 *^ I am," he answered, ^' but I do not feel 
 that I have sufficient reason for disturbing 
 the whole party. That particular chandelier 
 may be given to shaking for all I know ; for 
 my eyes cannot so far deceive me that it can 
 be all imaginary." 
 
 *^ I think you are dazzled," said Each el, 
 with double meaning, for she noticed that 
 when his eyes were not directed to the lights
 
 78 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 they were fixed on Edith, and it appeared 
 evident to her that his former indifference 
 had been assumed. He made no answer, 
 but for a few minutes refrained from turning 
 his eyes towards the head of the table. 
 
 '^ Will the company make speeches?" he 
 asked presently. 
 
 '' Oh, no, of course not ! How dreadful 
 for Edith ! " 
 
 '' I thought perhaps that on an occasion 
 like this — when a person becomes a sort of 
 public character for a time — it might be 
 agreeable, but of course — good God ! do you 
 hear?" His exclamation and a sudden loud 
 crack alarmed every one, and he sprang from 
 his chair, reached the head of the table, and 
 throwing himself in front of Edith, pushed 
 her aside, as with a sway and a crash the 
 chandelier came down over the spot where 
 she had been sitting, and struck him to the 
 ground in its fall.
 
 IN Edith's honour. 79 
 
 In a moment all was confusion, and no 
 one seemed to know what had happened ; but 
 Walter Bonar, seeing that Mr. Hilton was 
 unnerved by his darling's narrow escape, 
 took the command, and ordered that the 
 room should be cleared of every one whose 
 help was not absolutely wanted. 
 
 '^ Let me stay," said Edith, who had re- 
 covered herself in an almost incredible 
 manner. 
 
 '^ I shall stay ! " said Laura, who was 
 already kneeling at Geoffrey's side, as he 
 lay pale and insensible. 
 
 '' No, no, go away, both of you ; we do 
 not know what has hajDpened ! " he answered 
 hastily. 
 
 '' We will go when you do know ; we can- 
 not leave him like this," said Laura, firmly; 
 and with agony in her eyes, but an unmoved 
 face, she leaned over Greoffrey and helped to 
 raise his head.
 
 80 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 *^ There is life in him," said old Colonel 
 Arnold, who had been looking at him and 
 feeling his heart ; and in a moment or two 
 his words proved true, for Geoffrey slowly 
 opened his eyes and moved his head, 
 although he sank back again immediately 
 into unconsciousness. 
 
 '^ Now, girls, you must go ! " said Walter, 
 authoritatively, and they silently obeyed. 
 
 ^^ Where will you stay, Edith?" asked 
 Laura, as they went out into the hall. 
 
 *'I must go to the drawing-room. Oh, 
 Laura I did you see what happened ? Did 
 he really save my life ? " 
 
 ^' Yes! and now he will die himself I the 
 only person in the world who has ever been 
 kind to me ! " 
 
 ^^ Laura!" 
 
 ^^Itis quite true! but never mind that 
 now ; let us go in together, as loving sisters 
 should ! Wlierever you are I must be near
 
 IN Edith's honour. 81 
 
 you, they will bring the first news to 
 you." 
 
 Fully half-an-hour passed, almost in 
 silence, after they went into the drawing- 
 room, before any tidings reached them. 
 The servants came in with coffee, but 
 they could tell nothing, except that Master, 
 and Captain Bonar, and Colonel Arnold 
 were with Mr. Poland in the dining-room, 
 with the door shut, and that the doctor 
 was sent for and expected every moment; 
 and even while they were speaking Laura, 
 who was standing at the window, caught 
 the sound of wheels, but she said nothing, 
 and sat down quietly close to the door. 
 
 Another long half -hour passed, and 
 Walter came in. She was nearest to him, 
 and looked up at him silently, and he was 
 startled by the intensity of her questioning 
 eyes. 
 
 '' He will do well," he said to her quietly, 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 DO^VN THE WAY. 
 
 and passed on, wishing to draw attention 
 from her. 
 
 A heavy blow on the head from the 
 massive bronze chandelier caused the 
 doctor so much uneasiness that he thought 
 almost nothing of divers bruises and cuts ; 
 but although Walter also felt that there 
 was grave cause for anxiety, he made as 
 light of it as he could to the guests; and 
 as those who were not staying in the house 
 were now anxious to disperse, he stayed 
 for a few moments to wish them good 
 night in his father-in-law's name ; and then, 
 before hurrying back to Geoffrey, stopped 
 to speak to Laui^a in her distant corner, 
 and found that she had fainted. Richard 
 Allen had followed him, and Walter 
 whispered to him to stand between her and 
 the rest of the company. ^*Let us get 
 her out if we can without any one's know- 
 ing. Poor child I although she is so quiet.
 
 IN Edith's honour. 83 
 
 she has been terribly frightened," he said, 
 feeling unusually kindly towards his dis- 
 agreeable sister-in-law ; and as she began 
 to recover herself, and every one else was 
 engaged in saying good night, they 
 managed to get her out of the room 
 without being noticed, and, half carrying 
 her upstairs, gave her in charge of her 
 maid. 
 
 '•' I am sure she would rather we took 
 no notice of her being upset, Allen," he 
 said, as they went down stairs together ; 
 but when he got home he told his wife. 
 "And, my dear," he added, "if you can 
 believe in the possibility of a girl's falling 
 in love in two days in these prosaic times, 
 you may take my word for it that that is 
 what has happened to Laura." And Mrs. 
 Bonar felt it was very hard that just then 
 she could not go to Blithefield and judge 
 for herself.
 
 84 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 
 
 There were several pale and anxious faces 
 round the breakfast-table the next morning. 
 Mr. Hilton had been too horror-struck by 
 the danger to which his darling had been 
 exposed to feel it possible to make even an 
 attempt at a night's rest, and for several 
 hours had made periodical visits to Geoffrey's 
 •door, not daring to enter, but getting a few 
 encouraging words now and then from Mrs. 
 Mathewson, who sat up in her nephew's 
 room, but stole out to give the welcome 
 tidings of quiet rest, of which she knew 
 Mr. Hilton longed to hear; then he crept
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 85 
 
 back to his own room, stopping for a few 
 moments at Edith's door to assure himself 
 that she was free from his own unrest, and 
 towards daylight he had fallen asleep in his 
 chair. 
 
 Every one had been careful to make as 
 light as possible of the accident to Edith, 
 and she therefore perhaps realised less than 
 others the extent of the danger from which 
 Geoffrey had saved her ; but she had been 
 sufficiently unnerved to dread being alone, 
 and had asked her little sister, Erica, to 
 sleep in her room ; an arrangement which, 
 however, she immediately regretted, for, but 
 for the fear of disturbing her, she would 
 gladly have stolen out, like her father, to 
 get tidings, now and then, of the man who 
 had been barely civil to her, and who had 
 saved her life. 
 
 But of all the party, if any one but Richard 
 Allen had thought of noticing it, Laura was
 
 86 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 tlie one who liad evidently suffered most. 
 First an agony of resentful shame had 
 possessed lier at the thought that she had 
 betrayed her intense anxiety, to which had 
 succeeded an unreasoning conviction that 
 the trutli was being concealed from her, and 
 that this, her only friend, would die — die 
 before she should ever see the face or hear 
 the voice again which, in two days, had 
 grown to be the dearest to her in the world. 
 Half a dozen times in the night she had 
 hoped to steal unseen to Geoffrey's door to 
 listen, and as often the light streaming 
 from her father's room, or the sight of him 
 as he went backwards and forwards, had 
 shown her that he was as wakeful as herself, 
 and that unless she chose to ask for tidings 
 from him she must bear her anxiety until 
 the morning. Conscious of the strength of 
 her own feelings, she failed to see how 
 natural and reasonable an inquiry would
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 87 
 
 have seemed to him, and how far he could 
 have been from thinking her foolish for 
 solicitude concerning the man who had 
 saved her sister's life ; and oppressed by the 
 same consciousness, she would not allow her- 
 self to make inquiries from the maid who 
 called her in the morning, into whose care 
 Walter had given her half fainting the night 
 before. She would bear anything rather 
 than betray herself further, and was dis- 
 gusted at the sight of her heavy eyes and 
 white cheeks, which, if any one cared to 
 notice them, must bring remarks. But she 
 timed her going down with care, and met 
 Mrs. Mathewson outside Geoffrey's door. 
 
 '^Have you had a good night?" she 
 asked, tremblingly, standing with her back 
 to the light, and leaning against the banisters 
 for support. 
 
 ^' Yes, my dear, thank you, much better 
 than we expected, and although his head
 
 88 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 is still confused, he knows me quite well 
 this morning," answered Mrs. Mathewson, 
 cordially, pleased with her unusual sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 '^He is not — he will not die?" faltered 
 Laura. 
 
 ^^ Please God! — no. I do not think we 
 need fear that. The doctor is with him 
 now, and I have not yet heard his report ; 
 but I could see that he thought well of him 
 at the first glance." 
 
 Again Laura felt sick and faint with the 
 sudden relief, but this time she was mistress 
 of herself ; and just then Richard Allen came 
 out of his room, and noticing her pale face, 
 with a kindly joke drew her hand within his 
 own, and kept her for a moment or two at an 
 open window, while he congratulated Mrs. 
 Mathewson on the success of her night's 
 nursing. 
 
 ^^ I believe we shall have this interesting
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 89 
 
 invalid about amongst us again in a few 
 days," he said, " and then we other fellows 
 will be nowhere in comparison with him ; so 
 I give you notice, Lam-a, that I shall expect 
 you to be very kind to me until he reappears 
 to claim attention from you all." 
 
 Laura looked at him gratefully. Was the 
 world changing all of sudden that people 
 should begin to be so kind to her ? And 
 somehow Richard spoke so lightly, and 
 seemed to think anxiety so natural, that she 
 no longer shrank from the thought that he 
 had known of her weakness the night before. 
 
 Breakfast was half over when Mr. Hilton 
 came hurrying in. 
 
 '^ I must apologise for my absence," he 
 said, ^' but I am sure that all my guests will 
 feel the claim of the injured one, and I am 
 glad to tell you that the doctor thinks well 
 of him. But, I am afraid we must give up 
 the dance to-night, Edith, the music might
 
 90 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 penetrate to Poland^s room and excite him, 
 so I shall leave it to all you young people 
 to do the best you can to make up to om- 
 expected guests for their disappointment." 
 
 ^^ Surely you will put them off!" ex- 
 claimed Laura, hurriedly. 
 
 ^^No, my dear, I scarcely see reason for 
 that ; but you must put your heads together 
 and get up a play or something for their 
 amusement. It is not every day in the year 
 that Edith's birthday comes, or that we 
 have so many friends gathered round us, 
 
 or Well, Peter, out with your great idea, 
 
 I see by your face you have one." 
 
 '^ A sort of May-Queen business would be 
 the thing," answered Peter, gravely. ^' Put 
 Edith in a high chair and crown lier, and 
 some one might write an ode and recite it." 
 
 Edith laughed merrily. •' Thank you, 
 Peter, I hardly feel up to the position." 
 
 ' ^ But we would support you, we would
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 91 
 
 see that it did not weigh too heavily, or 
 rather" — here Peter took advantage of a 
 general move, and stood close by his cousin 
 — ^^ if only you would authorise me, I would 
 support you and return thanks in your name ; 
 I could take all day to think over the most 
 appropriate terms." 
 
 Again Edith's laugh of amusement attracted 
 Laura's attention, and she turned to look at 
 her with undisguised contempt for her want 
 of remembrance of Geoffrey, and of her 
 own recent danger, which did not escape the 
 notice of Captain Bonar, who had ridden 
 over to breakfast. 
 
 *^ It is odd how habit has blinded all their 
 eyes," he thought; ^' it never strikes them 
 tliat poor little Laura can have any feelings, 
 while to me they are plain enough. But 
 somehow, except to Janet, I should feel it 
 a sort of desecration to speak of them. I 
 could never have believed that I could think
 
 92 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 SO kindly of her. I wonder if that prig, 
 Poland, knows the impression he has made." 
 He would have wondered still more if he 
 had passed along the passage leading to 
 Geoffrey's room a few hours later. Mrs. 
 Mathewson was helping Edith to receive 
 her guests ; the servants were busy in their 
 various places, and no one was left with the 
 invalid but the trained nurse sent in by the 
 doctor. Whether Geoffrey's brain was more 
 disturbed than had been imagined, or whether 
 the bustle of preparation and arrival had 
 penetrated further than was anticipated, 
 was doubtful, but scarcely had the evening's 
 entertainment begun when he became wildly 
 excited, and beyond his nurse's control. 
 Over and over again she rang the bell, but 
 in vain, it rang only into the servants' hall, 
 and that was for the time deserted, Edith 
 wishing every one to share in the amusement 
 of seeing the hastily-got-up, but admirably-
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 93 
 
 managed, charades wliicli had taken the 
 place of the intended dance. 
 
 Quiet — absolute quiet, the doctors had 
 ordered ; but how was one unfortunate 
 woman to quiet the ravings and tossings of 
 a strong man in delirium? How many 
 times she had vainly gone to the door to 
 call for help she could not have counted, 
 when looking hopelessly along the passage 
 she saw a lady coming towards her. 
 
 ^^Oh, ma'am!" she cried, ^^ please go 
 and send the master here, or send for the 
 doctor ! the gentleman's quite off his head, 
 and has frightened the life out of me." 
 
 " Let me come and speak to him," said 
 Lam-a. She had stolen away from the com- 
 pany just to pass by the door and hear that 
 all was quiet. '^ Don't be frightened, nurse ; 
 we will send at once for the doctor if there 
 is any need; " and with perfect self-command, 
 now that there was no one to watch her
 
 94 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Laura went in and stood by Geoflfrey's bed- 
 side. He looked at her, but did not 
 recognise her. 
 
 '' The lights !— the lights ! " he cried ; " I 
 tell you they do shake above her head ! 
 Nonsense, it is not the servants' steps, the 
 others are still. Don't you see — it sways! 
 Oh God, it is falling ! " and he would have 
 sprung up but for Laura's detaining hand. 
 
 '^ Lie still," she said with authority. 
 ^^ Move the light away, nurse. See — there 
 is nothing to fall. Think of the oak wood, 
 and the blue bells, and the pheasant stretch- 
 ing himself in the sun, and the primroses 
 are so sweet — you said they were so sweet." 
 She took some from a glass at the bedside, 
 and held them to his face. He lay still for 
 a moment or two, seeming to enjoy their 
 fragrance. ^^ Laura? it was Laura went 
 with me— not Edith ! " 
 
 ^^ Yes, it is Laura with you now, Edith is
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 95 
 
 not near," she answered, jealously. ^^ I will 
 stay with you if you will be quiet." He 
 murmured a few unintelligible words, and 
 almost before she had finished speaking his 
 heavy eyes closed. 
 
 *^ You're a wonderful young lady for 
 sure ! " whispered the nurse. '^ You can 
 manage him a deal better than I can ! " 
 
 ^^Yes," answered Laura, hurriedly, ^^I 
 can manage him ; but I shall leave all the 
 trouble to you, and not come again, if you 
 say that I have been here." 
 
 ^^ Bless you, miss ! it's not for me to talk 
 of the young ladies of the house ! " said the 
 nurse, making a guess ; and Laura, without 
 noticing it, went on — "I must go now; but 
 if you think it safe to leave him for a 
 moment I can show you my door, and you 
 can call me at any time if he wants me." 
 And then, seeing that she could do no 
 fm^ther good, she first sent a servant to stay
 
 -96 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 within the nurse's call, and then went back 
 to the drawing-room, before she had been 
 missed by any one but her watchful brother- 
 in-law. 
 
 ^^Just let it all alone, and make no 
 remarks," was the advice Captain Bonar's 
 wife had given him, when he had mentioned 
 the subject to her. '^ Nothing could be 
 better for us all than to have Laura taken 
 off our hands ; and if she really likes him it 
 may make a different person of her, not to 
 mention the use that her ten thousand 
 pounds ma}^ be to him." And having a 
 great opinion of Janet's good sense, he 
 observed in silence. 
 
 The hurriedly-arranged theatricals were 
 received with indulgence by the guests, 
 who although disappointed, were determined 
 to make the best of everything; and if 
 Mr. Hilton's undisguised pride in his 
 daughter and heiress did bring a smile to
 
 FIEST INFLUENCE. 97 
 
 many faces, it was a kindly one, and all 
 agreed that Edith was in truth a charming 
 and gracious hostess. 
 
 Many were the conjectures as to who 
 would be the fortunate winner of such a 
 wife with so fair an inheritance ; and not 
 Mr. Hilton only, but others who were 
 interested in the matter, were inclined to 
 look with special favour on young Mr. 
 Offord, who had just come home from 
 India in consequence of succeeding to large 
 property in the neighbom-hood on the 
 death of a cousin. 
 
 Bernard Offord and the Hiltons had been 
 playmates years before, and he felt far 
 more at home at Blithefield than at the 
 gloomy mansion at Offord Park, which was 
 only separated from it by a high paling. A 
 tender little sentiment concerning Adelaide 
 had kept the remembrance of the Hiltons 
 fresh in his mind during his eight years' 
 
 VOL. I H
 
 98 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 absence, and when he had heard of her 
 marriage he had imagined himself to have 
 received a blow, but somewhat to his disgust 
 he found that he got over it immediately, 
 and when for the first time this evening he 
 met Edith grown into a woman, he felt 
 that fate had been good to him in keeping 
 him a free man until they met again ; and 
 her pleased greeting of the ^^ Bernard" of 
 old days completed the conquest, begun by 
 her beauty and gracious manner, as he 
 watched her attentively from the other 
 end of the room before claiming her 
 acquaintance. 
 
 ^^My dear boy, you will find that you 
 have not lost your old place amongst us, 
 although two of the nestlings have flown 
 since you were here last," said Mr. Hilton, 
 kindly. 
 
 ^^And the third?" asked Bernard, with 
 hesitation.
 
 FIRST INFLUENCE. 99 
 
 " The third is all that a father's heart 
 can desire, and that is saying a good deal 
 from a man who wanted a son," answered 
 Mr. Hilton. 
 
 But as Bernard watched Edith with 
 attention he was not surprised at her 
 father's estimate.
 
 100 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NEW VIEWS. 
 
 In a few days Geoffrey was considerably 
 better, and able to assert himself. '^ For 
 Heaven's sake, if you want me to keep my 
 senses, keep Mr. Hilton out of the room ! '^ 
 he said to his aunt. ^^ He comes in here 
 bothering about his gratitude until 1 am 
 sick of his daughter's name, and he says he 
 means to bring her to speak for herself, but 
 that I won't have ! " 
 
 ^'No, no, my dear boy! she shall not 
 come until you are much better," answered 
 Mrs. Mathewson, soothingly. 
 
 " Now, if it was the quiet, ugly one it 
 would be different," Geoffrey went on ; '^ I
 
 NEW VIEWS. 101 
 
 should like her to come in every now and 
 then, with her quiet ways. I fancied she 
 did come one night and put those horrible 
 lights out of my head somehow." 
 
 '^ I don't think she did, but I daresay she 
 would, if you like ; but she is not very 
 amiable, poor girl ! and we can never quite 
 answer for her." 
 
 ^^Well, you might ask her if she would 
 come, but keep the heiress out of the way." 
 
 Mrs. Mathewson, fond as she was of her 
 nephew, also extremely enjoyed the society 
 of the other visitors, and was glad that 
 Laura quietly, but willingly, agreed to take 
 her turn of sitting with the invalid, and 
 helping to while away the tedious hours. 
 
 ^^ Ma'am, you may tell me to do my duty, 
 and see that the gentleman don't excite 
 himself, but it's my belief, that watch as I 
 may — and will — the young lady knows 
 better than either of us how to keep him
 
 102 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 quiet," said the nurse, when Mrs. Mathew- 
 son called her aside to give her instructions ; 
 and no doubt she was right, for Laura, who 
 had brought her embroidery frame, seated 
 herself at Greofeey's side after a brief greet- 
 ing, and appeared so absorbed in her work 
 as to be unconscious of the restless eyes 
 which at first followed every movement of 
 her hands, and then gradually closed as the 
 patient, as if soothed and satisfied, sank into 
 a quiet sleep. 
 
 " Laura," was his first word on waking, 
 and the ill-tempered, neglected, saddened 
 daughter of the house could not for the 
 moment answer him for sudden, happy 
 tears. 
 
 " Dear child ! " he said, greatly touched 
 by her quiet care for him. ^' Have you 
 been sitting here all this while ? " 
 
 "It has not been long," answered Laura, 
 quietly.
 
 NEW VIEWS. 103 
 
 ^' Lor' bless you, sir, the young lady 
 hasn' t stirred hand nor foot this hower ! '' 
 said the nurse, bustling up. 
 
 Geoffrey turned irritably away. ^^ I do 
 not want any thing," he said, ungraciously. 
 ^^ And you need not trouble yourself to stay 
 while Miss Hilton is here. Are you tired 
 of sitting there, Laura ? " 
 
 ^^No, indeed! I like it. You have had a 
 good sleep, cousin Geoffrey." 
 
 Although he had refused to claim such 
 relationship with Edith a few days before, 
 coming from Laura it pleased him, and put 
 their intercourse on a comfortable footing. 
 
 ^^Do you know," he said, after watching 
 her for a few minutes, while she went on 
 with her embroidery, '^I believe it pleases 
 you for me to be ill, you look so much 
 happier than you did before this wretched 
 accident." 
 
 Laura blushed deeply, for indeed it was
 
 104 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 true. '^ Of course I am happy that you are 
 getting better," she answered hesitatingly, 
 '^ and I am glad too that you like me to be 
 with 3'ou ; you know, there are not many 
 people who care for my society." 
 
 '' Poor child I — or rather it is their loss 
 if they do not know the value of such un- 
 obtrusive sympathy. But — tell me, Laura 
 — did you come in one night — I am not 
 quite clear how long ago anything hap- 
 pened — and bring me primroses, and drive 
 those lights out of my head ? " 
 
 ^ ' Yes, you were talking so loudly as I 
 came along the passage that you frightened 
 me, and I came in to see what was the 
 matter." 
 
 " I was sure you did, but that old woman 
 who watches me like a snake would have it 
 that it was my fancy." 
 
 ^^ That was my doing ; I told her to say 
 nothing about it. I thought perhaps you
 
 NEW VIEWS. 105 
 
 might not like me to have come, but indeed 
 I could not help it." 
 
 '^ I can forgive you/' answered Geoffrey 
 smiling, and wondering to himself whether 
 when he got well again he should think 
 Laura ugly, as he had done at first, and 
 it was only the weakness of his invalid 
 condition which now made her appear 
 pleasing in his eyes. 
 
 '^ How long do you suppose the doctor 
 will condemn you to be my entertainer?" 
 he asked, after a pause. 
 
 ^^ A week or two — I scarcely know — you 
 naust not go too soon," she answered. 
 
 ^'No, I shall not wish to. Fancy being 
 laid up with no one, or — is it wicked ? — 
 only the kindest of aunts to cheer one's 
 dreary hours ! Don't flatter yourself, Laura, 
 that you exactly amuse me, but it is 
 something to know — I don't mean that 
 exactly, but to have a sort of idea that if
 
 106 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 I asked you to do — what shall I say? — 
 catch that cock pheasant we saw the other 
 day, you would try to do it — ^just to assist 
 my recovery, you know." 
 
 ^^ Of course I should," answered Laura, 
 simply. '^ But no one ever asks me to do 
 anything." 
 
 ^^Why?" 
 
 ^^ I don't know — yes, I think I do — it is 
 because most likely I should refuse to 
 do it." 
 
 '' Why ?— again." 
 
 ^^ They do nothing for me ! They are 
 ashamed of the ugly sister. They throw 
 me a kindness now and then, but I do not 
 care to take the trouble of catching at it, 
 and they seldom waste their labour." 
 
 '^ Is that all their fault, Laura?" asked 
 Geoffrey, gently. 
 
 '^ Oh, I do not know ! " she cried, hiding 
 her face in her hands. ' ' Even mother did
 
 NEW VIEWS. 107 
 
 not love me, I was always stupid or naughty, 
 and I did not care to be anything else, and 
 I never have cared ! I never was like the 
 rest, and no pains were wasted on me. Do 
 you wonder if I lilced to give trouble, and 
 be as different as I could ? " 
 
 ''■ I think I fully understand your feeling," 
 answered Geoffrey, after a pause. ^^I — like 
 you — have never known the real meaning of 
 home life, but then I have never had the 
 chance." 
 
 ^^Nor have I," said Laura, more quietly. 
 ^^ But all this talk of worries and difficulties 
 is not good for you now. Give me s}an- 
 pathy when you are well again, but at 
 present my work is to do anything I can 
 to make the hours seem to pass more 
 quickly." 
 
 ^' They would be very long but for you. 
 I hate having a fuss made over me, and 
 it is difficult to make people understand
 
 108 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 that it is worse to be bored than to be in 
 pain." 
 
 ^^Is it? I am glad of that! I am so often 
 bored, but I know little about pain and 
 have always dreaded it." 
 
 "You look delicate." 
 
 " I am not. I have not Edith's colour, 
 or Erica's high spirits, but I have good 
 health." 
 
 " Then why, without the excuse of bodily 
 weakness, have you made so much less of 
 yourself than you ought ? " 
 
 "I had no motive." began Laura. 
 
 " Oh, foolish child ! " interrupted Geoffrey. 
 " Has any one need of a stronger motive 
 than that of making a better man or woman 
 of themselves ? " 
 
 " To what end ?" asked Laura, hopelessly. 
 
 Geoffrey hesitated. "'You have been 
 brought up to believe in another world 
 after this troubled, perplexing, yet
 
 NEW VIEWS. 109 
 
 pleasant and beautiful one ? " he said 
 presently. 
 
 '^ Yes, of course I haye been taught 
 that." 
 
 ^'Do you believe in it?" 
 
 ^^I don't know, I am not much fitted 
 for it." 
 
 '' There it is ! you have answered your- 
 self now 1 " 
 
 '^ I do not see what you mean." 
 
 '' You say that you are not fitted for a 
 higher life than that of this world, w^hich in 
 your case has been exceptionally small and 
 poor, and yet you say you have had no 
 motive for making more of yourself ! " 
 
 "I see, but " 
 
 '' Wait a little, this question is too deep 
 for us to enter upon it until you have 
 thought over it; it would be like setting a 
 child to read a Greek play before he had 
 mastered the alphabet; but there is one
 
 110 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 suggestion I should like to make to you — 
 you would get on much better with yourself 
 and with other people if you were more 
 self-satisfied." 
 
 Laura looked puzzled. '' Self-satisfied ? " 
 she repeated; ^' then, of com^se, you don't 
 put the same meaning to the words that 
 I should." 
 
 '^Why not? Do you think it is wrong 
 to be self-satisfied?" 
 
 ^^I have always heard it said so." 
 '^I daresay — but on what grounds?" 
 ^^ Because — because — we all make our- 
 selves disagreeable and do wrong some- 
 times." 
 
 ' ' Of course we do, but that is no reason 
 w^hy we should not try to make an approach 
 to perfection, and, therefore, to self- 
 satisfaction, whereas it seems to me that 
 you have thrown the whole thing up as 
 a bad job."
 
 NEW viEwe. Ill 
 
 ^^ It seemed so hopeless, and mth no one 
 to help me ! " said Laura, sadly. 
 
 '^No doubt it did, but perhaps now I 
 can help you a little," said Geoffrey, 
 holding out his hand, and feeling im- 
 measurably older, and wiser, and nearer 
 perfection than his companion. 
 
 /^Tell me a little more of what you 
 mean," said Laura, feeling so happy, 
 as he looked kindly at her and held 
 her hand, that she no longer found 
 difficulty in believing that even for her 
 the heights to which Geoffrey pointed 
 were not unattainable. 
 
 ^^ My view is," he answered, ^^ that 
 some lives have been perfect, with all 
 the perfection of which they have been 
 capable, and those people have a right to 
 self-satisfaction ; they have used the powers 
 they possess to the uttermost; they have 
 made the most of their lives and gone as
 
 112 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 far as they could go ; they ought to be 
 self-satisfied." 
 
 ^^ But you would rob people of high 
 ideals of perfection.'' 
 
 ^^Not at all; but I say that a person 
 whose ideal is not higher than he can 
 fulfil is likely to lead a better life, and do 
 more good to his fellow-creatures, than a 
 man who aims higher than he can reach 
 and impresses himself and others with a 
 sense of failure. In the first case a man 
 is self-satisfied, and would lose his life 
 rather than that satisfaction ; he lives his 
 best and highest, and a sense of self- 
 depreciation would be ruin to him. In 
 the second case a man may be striving 
 his utmost at times, but he feels that it is 
 allowed him by others and that he himself 
 can excuse a failure now and then. He 
 feels that he is what people would call a 
 ^ fallible creature,' he is not supported by
 
 NEW VIEWS. 113 
 
 that grand self-satisfaction wliicli is as the 
 breath of his life to the other, and the 
 failure of which from my point of view is 
 moral disease — if not death.'' 
 
 '^ This is rather beyond me," sighed 
 Laura. 
 
 Geoffrey drew away his hand, which was 
 touching hers, impatiently. ^' That is just 
 one of the things I quarrel with you about," 
 he said. ^^ You take it for granted that 
 your capacities are small, and you save 
 yourself a lot of trouble by doing so ; but 
 as you could not expect to get to the end 
 of a journey by sitting down hopelessly by 
 the roadside, so you can never improve 
 yourself if you make up your mind that 
 it is impossible. You are very ignorant, 
 my dear, and therefore very helpless ; I 
 tell you so from the height of my superior 
 wisdom " — Laura returned his smile of 
 amusement: ^^But the remarkable ingenuity 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 and tenacity you have shown in keeping 
 yourself in a wrong position towards the 
 world, and especially towards your own 
 family, for all these years, shows that at 
 least you are not wanting in capacity and 
 firmness." 
 
 Laura blushed deeply, and felt as if she 
 ought to resent this plain-speaking, but 
 could not. 
 
 '^ Now I have given you a good lecture," 
 he said, holding out his hand again; ^^and 
 if you are not too much offended, I should 
 like you to think over it and tell me 
 your conclusions some time. Now I hear 
 my aunt's voice, and she will say I 
 have talked too much. Are you angry, 
 Laura ? " 
 
 She clasped her other hand over his in 
 silence, and to his surjDrise he saw that 
 her eyes were full of tears, and she hurried 
 away, not venturing to trust her voice in
 
 NEW VIEWS. 115 
 
 answer, and fearing to attract her aunt's 
 attention. 
 
 '^ Like Undine, the child's soul has to be 
 found," thought Geoffrey to himself, as 
 he turned his head on the pillow and 
 closed his eyes that Mrs. Mathewson and 
 the nurse might leave him undisturbed.
 
 116 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 At the end of a fortnight Blithefield was 
 nearly empty again, and Mrs. Mathewson 
 was impatient to get back to town as soon 
 as Geo&ey could be moved without risk. 
 
 Edith had made the house cheerful and 
 pleasant for her guests, although many 
 festivities which had been planned before- 
 hand were given up, every one feeling that 
 they would be out of place while GeofErey 
 was lying ill. It was true that the 
 Wedgwoods and Aliens, and others not 
 immediately concerned, often forgot the 
 invalid's existence ; but they all agreed 
 that the household party was far pleasanter
 
 CONFIDENCES. 117 
 
 than larger gatherings, and were not 
 disposed to find faults in any of the 
 arrangements made for their benefit. Mary 
 Vemey, who from the first was treated 
 almost like a daughter of the house, soon 
 became a favourite with every one excepting 
 Peter, whose high-flown conversation was a 
 constant irritation to her, although at the 
 same time she wondered that Mr. Hilton 
 and Edith allowed Erica without rebuke to 
 tuin him into unceasing ridicule. It was 
 no doubt most tempting, and every one 
 seemed to think it justifiable ; but she 
 could not consider it so, nor could she 
 bring herself to listen patiently to him, but 
 persistently avoided him ; and he, finding 
 that she neither laughed at his ^^ ponderous 
 pleasantries," nor seemed interested in his 
 long-winded stories, considered her '^ a 
 most unintelligent young woman," and 
 wondered that Richard Allen, who was
 
 118 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 considered clever, always found so much 
 to say to her. 
 
 Bernard Offord had been called up to 
 town on business almost immediately after 
 his re-introduction to the Hiltons, and had 
 had little more than time to discover that 
 Blithefield had not only lost none of its old 
 charms, but that they were, if possible, 
 increased, and that the welcome he received 
 there was everything he could wish. In 
 the meantime he was looking forward to 
 meeting Edith in London, and was as 
 impatient for her arrival as Mrs. Mathewson 
 was to take her there ; and she herself was 
 distressed at being unable to avoid feeling 
 irritated at the delay, while she was 
 conscious that gratitude to Geoffrey should 
 have made his well-being her first con- 
 sideration. The unwillingness she had felt 
 to leave her father, when the plan was first 
 proposed, had gradually passed away ; after
 
 CONFIDENCES. 119 
 
 all, it was to be for such a short time, and 
 she was naturally anxious to get a glimpse 
 of the world of which as yet she knew so 
 little. 
 
 " I wonder very much how you and I 
 will get on in our change of places, Edith," 
 said Mary Vemey, in one of the endless 
 conversations which they held together 
 during these trying days of waiting. 
 '^ To tell you the truth, my heart fails 
 me a little." 
 
 ^^So does mine," answered Edith, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 ''Your comfort," Mary went on, ''will 
 depend very much, I expect, on whether 
 you get on vnih. Geoffrey Poland better 
 than I have been able to do ; if not, judging 
 by my own experience, you will find Aunt 
 Sarah a hard taskmistress." 
 
 " Well, you see," answered Edith, slowly, 
 *' I suppose I shall have an advantage which
 
 120 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 you had not ; Mr. Poland has so sought 
 Laura's society that I can scarcely look 
 upon him in any other light than as a 
 probable brother, and I daresay you would 
 be shocked if you knew how grateful I feel 
 to him." 
 
 Mary laughed. ^^I have heard and seen 
 enough to tell me that Laura could be 
 spared from the family circle," she said. 
 '' But Edith, seriously, I cannot tliink 
 that marriage could prosper. Greofeey is 
 odiously disagreeable in his present state, 
 but I do not refuse to see that he may be 
 an unhewn god. I believe the precious 
 marble — with its capacity for beauty — is 
 there, but it needs a master hand to chisel 
 it into form, and as far as I can judge 
 Laura's power would be weak or perverted." 
 
 Edith was silent for a few moments. '^ I 
 was rather thinking of the effect of a master 
 hand on her," she said. '' I believe that.
 
 CONFIDENCES. 121 
 
 as Walter said yesterday, such a marriage 
 would almost change her nature ; and, 
 unpleasing as I have thought Mr. Poland, 
 and with a clog of gratitude hanging 
 round my neck and nearly choking me, 
 I shall try to be pleasant to him for her 
 sake." 
 
 Mary almost imperceptibly shrugged her 
 shoulders; she doubted the good effect of 
 the efforts of the charming heiress to be 
 agreeable for the sake of her unattractive 
 sister ; but although bold in expressing her 
 opinions, she scarcely felt at liberty to sug- 
 gest this difficulty. 
 
 ^' I have several times wished,'' Edith 
 went on, ^' that father would let me stay at 
 home, and send Laura to town with Aunt 
 Sarah. It is all very well to put me off 
 with a joke every time I speak about it, but 
 there is no doubt that if a few weeks of 
 London society is of so much advantage as
 
 122 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 they say, Laura stands in need of it more 
 than I do." 
 
 Mary laughed. *^ No doubt she does, and 
 perhaps her turn will come next ; but, my 
 dear, I am a year older than you are, and 
 of course wiser, and I tell you that you will 
 find it a great advantage to have had even 
 a little bit of a season before you go up to 
 town as a bride." 
 
 ^^ Which, perhaps, won't be for the next 
 ten years," answered Edith. ^^No, I am 
 not going to be silly enough to say that I 
 shall probably never marry — it would be too 
 great a disappointment to father — but really 
 I have very little to gain by it." 
 
 '^Not much, certainly, except a good 
 man's devotion ; of which, perhaps, you 
 have never yet stood in need. No, it is 
 true you have nearly all that you can desire 
 at present, but then the day will come " 
 
 ^' Be silent, prophet of ill!" interrupted
 
 CONFIDENCES. 12o 
 
 Edith, laughing. ^^ I mean to gather my 
 rosebuds thankfully while they last, although, 
 of course, I know that some day they will 
 wither ; but we prize the few flowers winter 
 gives us almost more than summer blossoms, 
 and I am not afraid that they will be 
 wanting even in the darkest days.'' 
 
 ^^Well! you are a very untried philoso- 
 pher," answered Mary, sighing; ^^ but you 
 may be a true one. And now, to change 
 the subject, I want to tell you, that if it 
 was not for Erica I should be obliged to 
 draw back, and say that I could not stay 
 here while you are away." 
 
 ^Why?" 
 
 ^^ To begin with. I am desperately afraid 
 of your father." 
 
 " Of dear old father I Why, Mary, how 
 can you be? He is the most harmless old 
 darling that ever existed." 
 
 «' Very likely, but he frightens me. Of
 
 124 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 course he is everything that is polite when 
 he is aware of my existence — which is not 
 very often, but I fancy he does not care 
 much for any girls except his own; and yet 
 in spite of it I am terribly afraid he will 
 think it his duty to talk to me when you 
 are gone.'' 
 
 ^^I don't think he will very much. He 
 likes to have cheerful people about him, but 
 he is often silent himself. However, you 
 may trust Erica for talking enough if she 
 gets any encouragement, but even she 
 cannot chatter to unresponsive Laura. At 
 any rate, I am only to be away two months, 
 and when I come back again I shall try to 
 do all sorts of things to make up to you, if 
 you have been dull." 
 
 ^' I am not at all afraid of being dull here," 
 answered Mary thoughtfully, ^^but it is that 
 I don't see that I shall be much good to any 
 one, and — -oh, Edith — how I should have
 
 CONFIDENCES. 125 
 
 enjoyed going out with you ! Of course, I 
 know it couldn't be done ; I couldn't afford 
 to buy my own dresses, and Aunt Sarah 
 couldn't give them to me, but I do envy you." 
 
 Edith looked at her with deep vexation. 
 '' Of course I did not know this," she said, 
 ^^nor could I have done anything if I had. 
 I don't think much about money, because I 
 have always had plenty, but I thought you 
 only came here because you were tired of 
 going out." 
 
 ^'I will tell you the real truth, Edith. I 
 am tired of going out when I can never 
 afford to be really well dressed. I am tired 
 of wondering whether this silk is too shabby 
 or that lace too soiled to appear again. I 
 am tired of wearing my one set of jewels night 
 after night, but there is one thing of which 
 I am still more tired, and which made me 
 eager to stay here, and that is Geoffrey 
 Poland and his cold superiority."
 
 126 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Edith gave a sort of shudder. ^^Mary," 
 she exclaimed, ^' I will now tell you a real 
 truth. I almost hate Geoffrey Poland ! 
 Remember, I have not seen him for a fort- 
 night — not since the day he was openly rude 
 to me, and then saved my life. Laura has 
 talked to him day after day, but he has 
 refused to see me, and has made me go 
 through all this time weighted with this 
 burden of unexpressed gratitude, and now I 
 can scarcely persuade myself to feel grateful. 
 And yet I must pretend to be, not only to 
 him, but to father, who — ^poor foolish old 
 darling ! — thinks that a few words from me 
 would wipe off any debt. Mr. Poland must 
 be a hateful sort of man to let one stay in 
 this strained position. .Does he want to 
 make me think of him incessantly? If 
 he does, he has his wish, but my thoughts 
 would scarcely flatter him." 
 
 Mary laughed. ^^ I am afraid," she said.
 
 CONFIDENCES. 127 
 
 ^ ^ that I shall not flatter you when I say that 
 I suspect he does not think very much about 
 you — at any rate, not enough to realise that 
 he is putting you in an uncomfortable 
 position. He probably thinks Kttle of what 
 he has done for you ; his nature is rugged, 
 not small ; he would despise the mean 
 advantage of keeping up an effect upon your 
 mind. No ; I know him well enough to 
 say that he probably feels a strong dislike 
 to you because he has saved your life, 
 and most likely he takes it for granted 
 that you equally dislike him for having 
 done it." 
 
 Edith sighed. ^^Oh, well, Mary, it is 
 very evident that I ought to go to London 
 to learn all this sort of thing. My country 
 mind knew nothing of such feelings a few 
 weeks ago, but it may be that at the end of 
 my two months' training I shall understand 
 that doing or receiving a kindness is a
 
 128 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 reason for dislike, but at present my mind is 
 rather chaotic on that subject." 
 
 Mary laughed again. ^' Silly child I the 
 whole world is not like Geoffrey Poland's 
 perverted phases of temper, and it is of these 
 I have been speaking, perhaps, after all, 
 unnecessarily. His fancies were paramount 
 with Aunt Sarah when I was there; but 
 then, you see, proud as she is of me, I am 
 not of much importance, but Miss Hilton is 
 a different person altogether." 
 
 Edith interrupted. '^ Mary, 1 think Erica 
 must go back to school again. I feel I cannot 
 trust her with you; you are as uncharitable 
 as Laura herself." 
 
 ^'I know, and I am quite half -ashamed," 
 answered Mary penitently. '^I promise 
 you that Erica shall not know my wicked 
 feelings ; but it has been a relief to say it 
 out to you, and besides, I feel bound to let 
 you know that while I seem a quiet, easy-
 
 CONFIDENCES. 129 
 
 going sort of person, I feel in reality like a 
 dormant volcano." 
 
 ^* We must all walk delicately, then, for 
 fear of putting a foot through the crust,'' 
 said Edith laughing. '' But seriously, Mary, 
 I do not think you will feel any necessity 
 for an eruption while you are here. Thanks 
 to father's guidance, I believe we lead good 
 and pleasant lives at Blithefield ; there is 
 plenty to do, and it always seems worth 
 doing." 
 
 Mary sighed. ^'Is it not something in 
 yourselves which makes you think so ? 
 Perhaps Laura and I cannot feel quite 
 the same." 
 
 '' Laura does not, I know," answered 
 Edith ; ^ ' but then, she is not like other 
 people — but there is father calKng me and 
 I must be off." 
 
 ^' No wonder she thinks her life good 
 and sufficient," thought Mary. ^^I am 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 inclined to doubt Aunt Sarah's wisdom in 
 taking her away if she wishes to study her 
 happiness. She won't come back the same 
 Edith, who is perfect in her father's eyes, 
 and I am afraid he will be just a little 
 disappointed." 
 
 Then she stood at the window, watching 
 the father and daughter pacing up and 
 down the broad carriage-drive in the warm 
 spring sunshine, deep in talk, and she 
 grieved a little for both of them in their 
 coming separation, short though it was to 
 be, and wondered whether Edith when she 
 returned would be able to give again the 
 whole-hearted attention with which she 
 now received every word and wish of the 
 father who adored her. 
 
 ^' I don't mind telling you, darling," Mr. 
 Hilton was saying to his daughter; ^Hhat 
 since I have seen this strange fancy which 
 Poland has taken to Laura, I am much
 
 CONFIDENCES. 131 
 
 happier about your going with your Aunt. 
 She tells me that I have no business to 
 judge of him by his decidedly unpleasing 
 manner, and that in reality he is a 
 sort of demi-god. It may be so, but it 
 would ha7e been a blow to me if you had 
 discovered it." 
 
 ^^ But you would like him for Laura, 
 father?" 
 
 ^' Certainly, if she has a mind to him. I 
 shall make no objection; she is not to be 
 mistress of Blithefield." 
 
 Edith was silent for a minute or two. 
 ^^ Father, I wish sometimes that there was 
 no thought of Blithefield between you and 
 me," she said presently, putting her arm 
 through his and leaning against him. ''^ I 
 do so want you to love me only for myself, 
 and not because you fondly think me worthy 
 of my place." 
 
 ^'My darling!" he answered fervently.
 
 132 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^if I had the best son that ever man was 
 blessed with, you would still be first in my 
 love. It may be that I have taught you to 
 think too much of wealth and position, but 
 I have not spoilt you. You have a true, 
 kind heart ; you will be a gracious mistress 
 when the time comes. In my poor judg- 
 ment, I have done well in setting a high 
 standard before you of the duty you owe 
 to your place in the world ; and now that 
 you are going away from me for the first 
 time, all I ask you to remember is — that 
 when, some day, you bring me the hus- 
 band of your choice, I shall expect him 
 to be worthy, not only of you, but of 
 the things which I have taught you to 
 value." 
 
 Edith listened with reverence, and 
 silently pressed his arm ; but after a 
 while she began again in a lighter tone. 
 ^'But, father, what is to happen if no
 
 CONFIDENCES. 133 
 
 one very wise or good should ever care 
 for me ? " 
 
 ^^I don't think we need contemplate that, 
 my dear." 
 
 ^' But it is very likely indeed to happen," 
 persisted Edith. '^ You think a great deal 
 of me, but it does not follow that any 
 other wise man will be guilty of such 
 folly, and then — may I marry some one 
 who is silly, or will you give Blithefield to 
 Laura ? " 
 
 ^' God forbid I '' exclaimed Mr. Hilton, 
 energetically. ^^ No, dear ; if such a mis- 
 fortune should befall us as that you should 
 give your heart away, beyond recall, against 
 your better judgment, why each of your 
 sisters will be some thousands the richer, 
 and Blithefield will be in the market." 
 
 ^^And your heart would be broken, poor 
 old father ! Well, I will try to prevent 
 such dreadful calamities ; but if I do not
 
 134 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 succeed, and insist on marrying a fool, don't 
 you think that if Laura marries Mr. Poland, 
 he would make a very good country squire 
 and master for the dear old place ? " 
 
 '^ It is time you went away, my dear, to 
 be cured of impertinence, and to find your 
 level ; you are getting beyond me. But this 
 I tell you, that rather than see that surly 
 fellow lording it at Blithefield, I would even 
 disinherit youj if you took a fancy to him ! " 
 
 ^^No fear of that, father. I don't deny 
 that Mr. Poland may have many good 
 qualities ; but I do not feel inclined to 
 interfere with Laura." 
 
 '^I should like you to comeback tome 
 whole-hearted, dear daughter," Mr. Hilton 
 went on. ^' You are young and have plenty 
 of time before you. It is only because I 
 feel myself getting an old man that I put 
 the thought of marriage into your head at 
 present. I feel," he added, between jest
 
 CONFIDENCES. 135 
 
 and deep earnest, ^^that Blithefield church- 
 yard could scarcely hold me if my son-in-law 
 proved unworthy." 
 
 Edith hesitated for a moment, and then 
 answered with heightened colour; ^^ Choose 
 for me, father, while I am whole-hearted. I 
 have unbounded confidence in your love and 
 wisdom." 
 
 It cost Mr. Hilton an effort to keep back 
 the name on his lips, but he had not 
 mentioned Bernard Offord when, a few 
 moments after, they turned at the sound 
 of wheels to welcome Mrs. Bonar, who had 
 driven over with her husband for the first 
 time since the birth of the inconvenient 
 baby.
 
 136 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SISTERS. 
 
 As the time was not yet settled for Mrs. 
 Mathewson's return to London, Mrs. Bonar 
 had come to beg that Edith would spend a 
 few days with her, and be present at the 
 christening of the new baby. 
 
 ^^ Father can better spare you now, dear, 
 than when Laura is mistress of the house 
 in Aunt Sarah's absence ; and as Mr. 
 Poland has not yet appeared in public, you 
 have no duty to him to keep you at home," 
 she said. And Edith rather unwillingly con- 
 sented to go to Daisy Lodge for three or 
 four days. 
 
 ''I suppose there is no chance of my
 
 SISTERS. 137 
 
 getting even a glimpse of your hero," Janet 
 went on. ^^I confess I am all anxiety ; and 
 as your very devoted sister, I think I might 
 have an excuse for asking for an interview 
 with her preserver.'' 
 
 ^^It is all very well for you to laugh, 
 Janet," answered Edith, gravely; '^but I 
 assure you that when you see Mr. Poland 
 the inclination will vanish. He is the most 
 uncomfortable person I ever saw; and I 
 consider the weight of obligation to him 
 under which the whole family is laid is 
 something almost too great to realise." 
 
 ^' There is nothing like modesty, my dear 
 Edith ! " 
 
 ^^You don't suppose I am alluding to 
 what he did for me — do you ? — that is 
 absolutely nothing compared with the benefit 
 of his taking Laura off our hands, and 
 making her happy. I tell you, Janet, that 
 since you have been married she has been
 
 138 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 a perfect weight upon father and me ! She 
 will scarcely ever join in anything we do, 
 and yet always says something bitter at 
 being left out. She has taken half the 
 flavour out of all my pleasures for the last 
 two or three years." 
 
 ^^ I know it has been very bad/' said 
 Janet, sympathisingly. ^^ But are you not 
 a little more sure of Mr. Poland's intentions 
 than circumstances warrant? I alluded to 
 the subject to Aunt Sarah the day before 
 yesterday, and she assured me, with great 
 warmth, that there was nothing in it." 
 
 ^^Yes, it is very odd!" answered Edith, 
 thoughtfully; ^^but she is the only person 
 who feels any doubt. You know, I have 
 not seen them together — for this gentle- 
 mannered hero refuses to see me, so I can 
 only judge from hearsay and probabilities ; 
 but father, of course, has been with them 
 every day, and he quite expects Mr. Poland
 
 SISTERS. 139 
 
 to speak to him on the subject before he 
 leaves. Of course, Janet, you are shocked 
 at the open way in which we speculate about 
 it, and. indeed, I am often disgusted at 
 myself ; but Laura is a trial, and you know 
 how much happier we should be without 
 her." 
 
 ^^ Yes, of course I know," answered Janet, 
 gravely ; ^^ but I pity the poor child more 
 than any of you. I think, perhaps, Edith, 
 that having children of my own makes me 
 more able to feel for every one, and looking 
 back I often think we have all been hard on 
 Laura." 
 
 ^^ Perhaps you are right," said Edith 
 impatiently. ^^I am sure I wish her the 
 happiest life in the world, only I shall be 
 truly thankful if she leads it away from 
 here." 
 
 Janet sighed — she loved Edith heartily, 
 but she was not quite as blind to her faults
 
 140 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 as the rest of the family, and she feared that 
 her father's injudicious indulgence and 
 admiration would go far towards spoiling a 
 fine character. It was a trying position for 
 a girl to be placed in — to be the centre of 
 everything, with no mother to guide her, 
 and no wise friend to suggest the dangers 
 to which her father's blind confidence 
 exposed her. It was little that her elder 
 sisters could do for her— for their position 
 was one of delicacy — and to interfere in 
 family matters was almost impossible for 
 them. Mrs. Paget had tried it once, but her 
 father had not received it well. '^ No doubt 
 you would be right in most cases, my dear," 
 he said, when she suggested that a little 
 more guidance would be an advantage to 
 her young sister ; ^^but you must remember 
 that Edith's position is peculiar, and I wish 
 her to learn self-reliance as early as possible." 
 And Adelaide had thought with a sigh,
 
 SISTERS. 141 
 
 that with her own handsome children round 
 her, she was not likely to forget the 
 peculiarity of circumstances which robbed 
 them of what she might, not unreasonably, 
 feel was their just inheritance. 
 
 But she was a good woman, and moderately 
 reasonable, and knew that she had chosen 
 for herself her humbler lot in the world, and 
 that it was her duty to make every one feel 
 that she had chosen wisely. She knew that 
 it was impossible that her husband should be 
 master of Blithefield ; he had determined 
 upon his calling years ago, before he had 
 ever seen her, and it was as a clergyman 
 that she had loved and married him, but — 
 might not her beautiful boy have been the 
 heir ? 
 
 What a pride she would have taken in 
 training him to be all that his grandfather's 
 heart could desire ! and young as he was — 
 only four his next birthday — she believed
 
 142 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 she could already see in him the seeds of 
 a noble character, well fitted for the 
 position which no woman, with the best 
 capabilities and intentions, could ever 
 rightly fill. 
 
 Perhaps the elder sisters were rather over- 
 sensitive concerning their position towards 
 Edith, and she would sometimes have been 
 glad to profit by their advice; but their 
 cautiousness had given her an idea that they 
 were incapable of forming opinions, when it 
 was only delicacy which had withheld their 
 expression ; and so she had learned to depend 
 upon herself in all matters in which she did 
 not consult her father, and often deprived 
 herself of the real benefit of their careful and 
 loving suggestions. 
 
 A winning graciousness of manner, shown 
 alike to her equals and to those beneath her, 
 concealed from people who did not know her 
 intimately the only serious defect in her
 
 SISTERS. 143 
 
 character — a want of tenderness in 
 feeling towards those with whom she 
 was not in sympathy. She was fond of 
 her sisters, Laura excepted, but her 
 father's injudicious training had taught 
 her to consider herself as made of 
 different stuff from the rest of the 
 family. 
 
 Adelaide and Janet were delightful, admir- 
 able, were the best wives and mothers in the 
 world she believed, and were deservedly 
 popular amongst their friends and relations. 
 ^' But then," she thought with unconscious 
 pride, ^Hhey never could understand father's 
 ways, and nothing could ever have made 
 them capable of managing Blithefield. I 
 can't imagine Edgar's checking Thornage's 
 accounts, or Walter's judging of the proper 
 felling of timber;" but she never let her 
 thoughts lead her to directly contrast her 
 own home rule with that of her sisters, and
 
 144 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 was not conscious of holding herself in 
 very high estimation. 
 
 Mrs. Bonar did not succeed in seeing 
 Geoffrey, although she sent a message to say 
 that she should like to make his acquaintance. 
 
 Laura came down with his answer, with a 
 flush on her cheek, and a difference in her 
 manner which her sister could not fail to 
 notice. 
 
 ^' Mr. Poland is sorry, Janet, but he has 
 not seen any one yet but father, and begs 
 that you will excuse him." 
 
 " Not a very agreeable gentlemen is he, 
 Laura?" asked Janet, smiling. 
 
 ^' I do not find him disagreeable," an- 
 swered Laura, quietly, but with a manner 
 which checked further remark j and she went 
 out through the open window, and gathered 
 a handful of fragrant, richly-coloured wall- 
 flowers, before she went back to sit with 
 Geoffrey, in the pleasant little room which
 
 SISTERS. 145 
 
 had been given up to his use, and which 
 always went by the name of the ''' blue 
 study." 
 
 Janet looked after her sister regretfully. 
 ^' The child is changed, Edith, and it grieves 
 me that a stranger should have done more 
 for her than we in all these years.'' 
 
 Edith turned away a little impatiently. 
 ^^ Of course she has changed — at least she 
 looks much brighter ; but I can't say that I 
 have yet found the benefit. I often wonder 
 how many words she and Mr. Poland speak 
 to each other in an hour." 
 
 ^ ' I expect you will find Mr. Poland a very 
 different person from what you fancy him 
 now — at any rate, from father's account, he 
 has taken the trouble to be very kind to 
 Laura, and I hope when we can get a sight of 
 him he will think the rest of us agreeable." 
 
 Edith felt that her sister intended to show 
 disapproval, and was glad that Mary Yerney 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 came in just then with Erica, and the 
 conversation changed. Two days later Laura 
 and Geoffrey stood at the window of the 
 hlue study, looking down on the party 
 starting for Daisy Lodge, in the waggonette 
 which Mr. Hilton was fond of driving with 
 a pair of handsome greys. Edith was going 
 to stay with the Bonars for a few days, and 
 Mrs. Mathewson, Mary Verney, and Erica 
 were to drive as far as Dorfield, where the 
 Pagets lived, and bring back Peter Hilton, 
 who had being staying there for a week. 
 Two days after Edith's return she was to go 
 up to town with her Aunt, for the doctor had 
 pronounced that by that time Geoffrey 
 would be fit to travel, and Mrs. Mathewson 
 only delayed her departure in order that she 
 might go with him. He had not yet left 
 the house, and had begged to be excused 
 from joining the party down stairs ; but 
 every one was inclined to believe that it was
 
 SISTERS. 147 
 
 want of inclination rather than strength 
 which kept him a prisoner. 
 
 Scarcely had the carriage disappeared 
 amongst the trees when Geoffrey turned 
 from the window, saying — 
 
 *^ I am going for a walk, Laura; will you 
 come and take care of me ? " 
 
 '^ Yes, gladly," answered Laura, under- 
 standing him well enough to know that 
 solicitous fear for his health would at that 
 moment only annoy him. 
 
 ^^ Don't think me perverse," Geoffrey 
 went on, ^^ I am quite aware that I have 
 made myself out to be incapable of the 
 slightest exertion ; but, to tell you the truth, 
 I have been pining for exercise for several 
 days, and it has only been the fear of having 
 a fuss made over my first appearance that 
 has kept me in." 
 
 ^^ I can quite fancy that," answered Laura, 
 laughing; ^^ and you will find that I shall
 
 148 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 not even say that I am glad to see you out 
 again." 
 
 '' I am sure you won't, and, what is more, 
 I don't believe you will feel it either — you 
 have looked quite blank this last few days 
 when I have told you how well I feel. I 
 believe you think me much more interesting 
 when I am ill." 
 
 ^^Yes, J think I do," answered Laura, 
 slowly, and then, with a sigh, she went to 
 put on her hat. 
 
 '^ I should like to get to the top of a 
 hill," said Geoffrey, as they went out 
 into the sunshine. '' Every breath of this 
 delicious wind puts fresh strength into me." 
 
 '' I wonder if you could get as far as 
 the ^ Look-out ;' you look down over the 
 Blithefield woods, and see the road winding 
 about below you for miles." 
 
 ^^ Let us try ; you are strong enough to 
 give me an arm at need."
 
 SISTERS. 149 
 
 *^ Oh, yes ; and we have plenty of time ; 
 the others will be away for two or three 
 hours." 
 
 Geoffrey put his arm through hers, and 
 they walked on in silence. Laura was 
 happy, and had no wish to talk, and 
 Geofeey was wondering whether before 
 they went home again he should have 
 spoken words which he was anxious to 
 keep back for the present, and yet which 
 had been many times on his lips in the 
 last day or two. 
 
 Why he should desire to have Laura for 
 his wife was a question which he was quite 
 unable to answer for himself, and yet in 
 his present mood he did desire it strongly. 
 She had neither beauty nor talent, she 
 was ignorant and generally unamiable ; 
 but somehow she pleased him, he was 
 satisfied in her presence, and missed her 
 when absent ; but yet he mistrusted his
 
 150 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 own feeling. He had begun their ac- 
 quaintance from a sort of contrariety and 
 resentment against the world and all the 
 pleasant people in it; but very soon lie had 
 learned to take a true and sympathising 
 interest in her unhappy position towards 
 her own family, which had developed into 
 strong affection since the care she had 
 bestowed upon him during his illness. He 
 had studied her character carefully, and 
 believed that he could see in it great 
 latent power, which it would be an inte- 
 resting and satisfactory task to develop. 
 He had always scoffed at the passion of 
 love, and did not believe that he had it 
 in him to feel it; this quiet affection and 
 interest was sufficient, and was a higher 
 and purer feeling altogether, but he wished 
 it to be put to the test of absence. He 
 had no doubt of Laura's affection for him, 
 she showed it in every word and look
 
 SISTERS. 151 
 
 when alone with him and at her ease; 
 but he did not imagine that any one else 
 was aware of it. When her father or 
 Mrs. Mathewson came to sit with them in 
 the blue study, she was silent and unde- 
 monstrative, and he thought that if he 
 could leave Blithefield without sjDoaking 
 to her of the futm'e, no one would 
 comment upon it, and he had no doubt 
 that she would trust him, and be content 
 to wait his time ; but he abeady felt 
 impatient for the moment when he should 
 feel sufficiently sure of himself to return 
 and ask her to be the companion of his 
 life. Laura, on her part, had no definite 
 ideas on the subject at all. She felt a 
 sense of possession in him which made 
 her jealous beforehand of every word and 
 look he should bestow on others ; but how 
 it was all to end she did not know, and 
 did not care to imagine. He must leave
 
 152 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 her, of course ; but he would come back 
 again, perhaps often, and she would have 
 Ills visits to look forward to, and his 
 words and kindnesses to live upon in his 
 absence. Of course, she had heard other 
 girls talk of their lovers, she had seen 
 her own two sisters wooed and won ; 
 but although she had felt even fiercely 
 envious of the love they gained, it had 
 never seemed possible to her that anything 
 of the kind should fall to her share. Her 
 own family did not love her, it was not 
 likely that any one else would, and indeed it 
 had seemed to her that she scarcely wished 
 it ; she hugged her loneliness and unamiability 
 and almost found pleasure in them ; but 
 when Geoffrey came it was all very different 
 — he was like no one else, he held himself 
 apart, as she did, and she felt drawn to 
 him at once. Then, when first they had 
 talked together, she had almost taken
 
 SISTERS. 153 
 
 pleasure in showing him what an unloved 
 and unloving existence she led ; and he had 
 not been repelled, but had been interested 
 and sympathetic, and had given her comfort, 
 even while he made her dissatisfied with her 
 own views and ways of life. He had not 
 said to her, as others had, that she was 
 altogether wicked and wrong in feeling and 
 showing such dislike to her fellow-creatures ; 
 but he had shown her that she was doing 
 injustice to herself, and had led her to regret 
 her position, and to seek for the reason and 
 the remedy. 
 
 She felt no new desire to mix in the 
 pursuits and interests of those about her, 
 but she seldom felt tempted now to obtrude 
 her want of sympathy and approval. She 
 still held herself apart, but she was willing 
 to accord to others that right to their own 
 ways and opinions which she had hitherto, 
 unconsciously, demanded only for herself.
 
 154 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^' Well, Laura ! " said Geoffrey, drawing a 
 deep breath, after a long silence, '^ I wonder 
 if your thoughts have been as perplexing as 
 mine." 
 
 ^^ I don't think they have been perplexing, 
 things are much more simple than people 
 make out! One knows whether one is 
 happy or not." 
 
 ^^ Does one ? " Greo£frey sighed. ^^ There 
 is the puzzle, Laura — does one know ? " 
 
 " I know." 
 
 "Do you, child ? " he looked at her with a 
 compassion deep and tender, which in the 
 pleasure it gave him seemed to be like love. 
 " Are you happy now ? " 
 
 " Yes, quite." 
 
 '' And, I am happy too — with you ; but I 
 must go away, and then shall we be happy 
 apart? But," he added, hurriedly, " we will 
 not talk of that now, for I shall come back 
 again."
 
 SISTERS. 155 
 
 '' You will ? — you really will ? " 
 
 '^ Most certainly I shall ; but I cannot yet 
 tell you when it will be." 
 
 ^' I do not so much mind that," answered 
 Lam-a, quietly, ^^for I am sure now that you 
 will come." 
 
 By this time they had gained the top of 
 the hill, and reached the Look-out, as the 
 particular spot was called which commanded 
 a wide and beautiful view of the surrounding 
 country. Below them lay the Blithefield 
 woods, a wide stretch of budding brown 
 oaks, tender green beeches, with here and 
 there a cluster of blue Scotch pines, and 
 then away for miles ferny heathy common, 
 which in August was like an unbroken purple 
 sea, but was fresh and sunny now with 
 golden gorse and shooting heather. 
 
 They sat down on a rough seat which 
 was placed at the best point of view, and 
 Geoffrey still kept his hand on Laura's arm.
 
 156 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 '^ The world could scarcely show us any- 
 thing more beautiful than such a scene on 
 such a day ! " he said. '^ I am glad you do 
 not want to tell me the name of every hill 
 and church we see! It is just the wide 
 beautiful earth, and that is all I want to 
 know." 
 
 ^' Yes, it is enough, but I never thought it 
 so lovely until to-day," she answered. 
 
 Geoffrey watched her face, which was half 
 turned away from him, and wondered how 
 much she understood of her own mind. 
 That his presence made her ha23py, and that 
 she had given to him the affection which she 
 had hitherto denied to any one else, he felt 
 sure ; but he did not think she knew it, and 
 he judged that it was better for her and for 
 himself that she should at present remain 
 unconscious. 
 
 At that moment he was quite sure that 
 some day, not very far off, he should ask
 
 SISTERS. 157 
 
 her to marry him, but not just yet. He 
 could not come before her father and ask for 
 her and her fortune until he had something 
 to offer in retm-n beyond his own small 
 income and good intentions ; he must at least 
 have determined on some way of earning a 
 livelihood ; and although he did not believe 
 that Mr. Hilton would make much objection 
 to his being poor, and he himself had little 
 scruple about accepting benefits from his 
 wife's portion which would benefit both, he 
 would very distinctly prefer that their 
 positions should be more equal. So, while 
 he could assure himself — as he believed he 
 could — that his silence did not make Lam^a 
 unhappy, he determined to leave matters as 
 they were. 
 
 ^'See! the carriage is coming back, and 
 we shall not have more than time to get in 
 before them," said Laura presently, pointing 
 to a black spot on a distant white line of
 
 158 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 road, which only her practised eyes could 
 have recognised. 
 
 " Let us go back, then," answered Geoffrey, 
 with a regretful sigh. '^ Will you come up 
 here and watch me in the distance the day I 
 go away, Laura ? '' 
 
 *^Yes." And then, as was common with 
 them, they fell into silence again ; and when 
 they came near the house, Laura drew a little 
 apart; and Geoffrey, smiling and under- 
 standing her, withdrew his arm from hers, 
 and they got in just in time to avoid the 
 cheerful party returning from theii' drive.
 
 169 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 
 
 *' I WONDER if you will say that I have done 
 a very shabby thing, Laura," said Geoffrey 
 on the following Monday. ''' I know that 
 my Aunt has fixed on Thursday for going 
 back to town, and I have made an appoint- 
 ment to be there on Wednesday ; for if I 
 travelled with her she would kindly fidget 
 over me, and treat me as an invalid, until 
 I should lose all patience and say something 
 which would offend her." 
 
 ^'I think it is rather shabby," answered 
 Laura, smiling; ^^ but I can quite under- 
 stand. Not that Aunt Sarah or any one else
 
 160 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 has ever been anxious to make a fuss over 
 
 '^ And a good thing for you, it has taught 
 you more than you are at all aware. But, 
 Laura, do you sup2Dose she will really say 
 or care anything about it ? " 
 
 "' I should fancy she will, but I do not 
 know ; and she will have Edith with her, so 
 it cannot matter to her very much." 
 
 '^ No, and that is another reason why I 
 would rather go first. I should wish to spare 
 your sister any solicitude she might feel on 
 my account ; and when we meet in town I 
 shall be just like any other healthy com- 
 monplace acquaintance she may come across." 
 
 '^ But of course you must see her before 
 you leave here." 
 
 ^ ^ Do you think I must ? I am almost 
 ashamed to confess how disagreeable the 
 idea is to me." 
 
 ^' I am sure father will be offended if you
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 161 
 
 do not ; he was speaking about it this morn- 
 ing at breakfast, and I think he meant me 
 to tell you." 
 
 '^ Oh, well ! no doubt it is a farce to 
 suppose that I am unequal to the fatigues 
 of society ; but then you see society won't 
 let me speak the truth, and say that I am 
 not unable, but unwilling." 
 
 '' No, perhaps not, but they know the 
 state of the case pretty well — they generally 
 call you Diogenes." 
 
 " Geoffrey laughed, but was also a little 
 annoyed. He much disliked being the 
 subject of a joke, and he also felt that it 
 might, not unreasonably, be looked upon as 
 a bit of affectation — this refusal of his to 
 mix with other people ; but after all, beyond 
 giving some trouble to the servants, which 
 could easily be recompensed, he could not 
 see that it made any difference to any one. 
 
 "Oh well!" he said, after a pause; ^' of 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 course, if your father looks at it in that 
 light, I must put aside my own inclina- 
 tion. I will come into the drawing-room 
 to-morrow evening; but I shall regret our 
 pleasant, quiet hours here, Laura." 
 
 Laura did not answer, she could not trast 
 her voice; it seemed to her that with the 
 ending of these hours all her happiness 
 would pass away. Geoffrey guessed what 
 was passing in her mind and was touched, 
 but scarcely sorry. Her affection was pre- 
 cious to him, and he would make up to her 
 hereafter for any pain he might cause her 
 now. Silence was natural between them, 
 and it was some time before he spoke again, 
 and then apparently irrelevantly. 
 
 ^'I think," he said slowly, ^Hhat it is 
 only right that a man should be alone until 
 be has settled upon his path in the world. 
 However dear to him the presence of a 
 chosen companion may be, I think he should
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 163 
 
 deny himself until then. Do you agree with 
 me, Laura?'' 
 
 ^^ I do not know. I have not thought 
 about it." 
 
 '' Will you think ? " he said, hghtly 
 touching her hand. '^I should wish to 
 know whether you agree with me in this ? " 
 
 " I beheve in it if you say it is right," 
 she answered simply. 
 
 Geoffrey smiled; she was quite uncon- 
 scious of her flattery. ^' Well, we will agree 
 in believing it, dear," 
 
 And then Mr Hilton came in for his 
 usual morning call, and Laura worked 
 silently at her embroidery. 
 
 ''You think you will be well enough to 
 travel on Thursday, Poland ? " said Mr. 
 Hilton, after a few general remarks, 
 wondering whether — as the time was so short 
 — if Laura had been absent, Geoffrey would 
 have had anything special to say to him.
 
 16i DOWy THE WAY. 
 
 " Yes, thank you. I think I may say that 
 I haye entirely recovered. ; but if it is not 
 inconvenient to you, I want to get up to 
 town on Wednesday." 
 
 Laura glanced at him with an almost 
 imperceptible smile. 
 
 '*It is Thursdav. not Wednesday, that 
 ^Irs. Mathewson and my daughter propose 
 going." 
 
 " Yes. I understand that ; but I have 
 an engagement for Wednesday, and my 
 Aunt's maid is so accustomed to travelling 
 that she is quite as good an escort as I 
 should be." 
 
 ^Ir. Hilton looked puzzled : there was 
 evidently something he did not understand^ 
 and he wished Laura would leave them 
 alone, instead of sitting there silently 
 behind her embroidery-frame. Then a 
 bright thought struck him. 
 
 ''Of course." he said, '-if you must
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 165 
 
 leave on Wednesday it is quite convenient. 
 I suppose you want to know the times of the 
 trains. Laui'a, will you run up to my 
 di-essinof-room and look for this month's 
 Bradshaw, and if you don't lind it there 
 it is somewhere in the study." 
 
 '^Oh, don't take that trouble.'' said 
 Geoffrey. ''' I know there is a train about 
 eleven o'clock." 
 
 ^^ Much better to make siu'e ! get the 
 book if you please, Laiu'a." 
 
 But when she had left them alone 
 Geoffrey got up and walked to the window, 
 and remarked on the beauty of the fresh 
 young leaves, and the charms of the 
 distant view, until Mr. Hilton a\»t out of 
 patience. 
 
 '^ I don't believe the fellow means to 
 say anything to me after all ! " he thought. 
 ^' And I can scai'cely call him to account 
 for triliino: with her feeliuirs, when 1 have
 
 166 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 no proof that she has any ; but he may 
 be very sure that he will not enter 
 this house again if he has been misleading 
 us all." 
 
 '^ The park must look beautiful in 
 autumn," said Geoffrey, wondering a little 
 whether he would be asked to come and 
 see it, but not caring much, for he meant 
 to come before tliat with or without an 
 invitation. 
 
 ^' Yes, of course the old trees look very 
 fine," answered Mr. Hilton coldly, and then 
 the opportunity was over, for Laura came 
 back with Bradshaw. 
 
 ''I should think you will be able to join 
 us at dinner this evening," said Mr. Hilton, 
 when they had looked out and discussed the 
 times of the trains, which Laura had known 
 to the minute days before. 
 
 ''Thank you, if you will excuse me, I 
 would rather not. I have been quiet so
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 167 
 
 long that I shrink from a large party, but 
 I will join you in the drawing-room for an 
 liour to-morrow evening if I may. To 
 night, Laura, we have those designs to 
 finish for your embroidery." 
 
 ^'I cannot sj^are my daughter from the 
 drawing-room this evening," answered Mr. 
 Hilton, chillingly. '' She must take her 
 proper place in her sister's absence ; it is 
 not right that she should leave ever}^thing 
 to Miss Verney, a comparative stranger." 
 
 ^'My proper place?" exclaimed Laura, 
 looking up with her old defiant spirit. '^ It 
 is the first time I have ever heard that I 
 have one." 
 
 Geoffrey looked vexed, and Mr. Hilton 
 uncomfortable. ^'You will learn it when 
 you make the attempt," said her father, 
 after a short pause, and then went away 
 with a cool good-morning to his guest. 
 
 ^^ Laura, don't let that spirit come over
 
 168 DO^^^s^ the way. 
 
 you again, it grieves me," said Geoffrey, 
 standing in front of her, and looking down 
 at her gravely. 
 
 ^' Oh, Geoffrey, I am sorry!" she answered, 
 looking up at him with tears in her eyes ; 
 *' but it loas hard to take away my last 
 evening ! " 
 
 ^'And harder still on me, for I shall be 
 here alone." 
 
 ^' Oh, do let me come! I hate to be with 
 them all, and no one will want me ! " 
 
 ^^ Whereas I shall, very badly," said 
 Geoffrey, smiling. ^^But, dear child, it is 
 not for me to say what you may do ! you 
 must obey your father's wishes." 
 
 Laura bent her head down very low, and 
 was silent. 
 
 ''^ Tell me what you are thinking?" said 
 Geoffrey, presently. 
 
 ^'I am thinking that I owe my father 
 but little duty, and that I do not care
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 169 
 
 for his wishes!'' she cried, with a burst 
 of passion. ^^ He has neglected and 
 slighted me all my life, and now spoils 
 my only pleasure! I will not do it! — 
 not if " 
 
 ^' Hush, dear ! " said Geoffrey, laying his 
 hand upon her shoulder, and feeling sorely 
 tempted by her distress to break through 
 his resolution of letting time try their 
 feeling for each other. ^' You put me in a 
 strait. Try to control this dislike and 
 impatience, as I have to resist the strong 
 desire which struggles against resolves 
 which I believe to be right and necessary. 
 We are companions in difficulty here ; 
 be brave, Laura, and let us conquer 
 together ! " 
 
 Laura hid her face in her hands to hide 
 slow heavy tears which she could not 
 repress. She believed in him entirely, in 
 his goodness, his wisdom, and his affection
 
 170 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 for her, although even to herself she would 
 not have called him her lover. 
 
 ^' Geoffrey, " she said, looking up when 
 she could command her voice, ^^ I will do 
 what you tell me, but not from love or 
 respect for my father, for I feel neither, I 
 will do it because you say it is right." 
 
 *^Do it for that first, and other motives 
 will come," he answered, puzzled by the 
 extreme contrariety of her nature, and feeling 
 that the task of guiding her would indeed be 
 a difficult one ; but he had no wish to draw 
 back from it, although for a time he must 
 seem to do so, and leave her to struggle 
 a little way along the new road by herself. 
 
 Then a servant came to say Miss Laura 
 was wanted, and Mrs. Mathewson, at Mr. 
 Hilton's request, managed to keep her 
 occupied until late in the afternoon, when, 
 hastening to the blue study, weary and 
 impatient, fretting against a new restraint,
 
 THE BLUE STUDY. 171 
 
 Geoffrey read aloud to her page after page 
 from books which he loved, and she was 
 learning to prize for his sake. 
 
 She felt rested and soothed by the time 
 the bell rang to dress for dinner, and 
 Geoffrey putting his hand on her shoulder, 
 said lightly, — 
 
 '' Make yourself as pleasant as you can, 
 my child, and if possible come by and bye 
 and say good-night, and tell me how you 
 have fared."
 
 172 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 COUSIN PETER. 
 
 ^'YouR preserver intends to appear this 
 evening and claim his reward, Edith; I 
 wonder what he expects or intends it to 
 be," said Mary Verney, when Edith re- 
 turned from the Bonars the next morning. 
 
 ^^ Oh yes, Edie; Diogenes has really 
 promised to emerge," cried Erica, excitedly. 
 *^I could scarcely sleep last night after 
 father told us, I am so afraid of him, and 
 yet so anxious to see him." 
 
 ^^ Silly child!" said Edith, laughing; 
 ^^you seem to look upon him as a sort 
 of ogre, or else as a high and mighty 
 personage whose presence will affect every-
 
 COUSIN PETER. 173 
 
 body ; I can't myself see what difference it 
 will make whether he is in the room or not, 
 except that, of course, we must be very civil. 
 I don't fancy he would at all appreciate a 
 fuss." 
 
 ^^ But he must be very odd or he would 
 not like Laura," persisted Erica. 
 
 Edith, fresh from Janet's kindly influence, 
 looked vexed. '' You should not speak like 
 that. Erica ; it is quite likely that Mr. Poland 
 may understand her better than we do, 
 and that with him all that is good in her 
 comes out." 
 
 Erica laughed. ^^ That is Janet all over, 
 with a little flavom^ of our clerical brother 
 in addition; but oh, Edie ! when a person 
 has done you one kindness they are so often 
 ready to do another ; couldn't you ask him 
 to set our minds at rest before he leaves 
 to-morrow, so that we may have no doubt 
 or anxiety about it ? "
 
 174 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^You are a goose, Erica; and it is not 
 to-morrow but Thursday that we are 
 going." 
 
 ^^ You are going on Thursday, if you 
 like, but he leaves to-morrow, he told 
 father yesterday." 
 
 ^^He apparently does not care for the 
 society of ladies while travelling," said 
 Mary. '^ When we were coming down here 
 he went in a smoking carriage most of 
 the way." 
 
 ^' He is a wise man," answered Edith. 
 ^' There is nothing so disagreeable 
 as having to talk in a train, if you 
 do not feel inclined," but in her own 
 mind she felt a little annoyed at this 
 apparently persistent avoidance of her 
 company. 
 
 Late in the afternoon Peter made an 
 opportunity for speaking to her alone. 
 
 '^ Of course you are prepared," he said
 
 COUSIN PETER. 175 
 
 solemnlyj but looking at her with an 
 expression of doubt and solicitude. 
 
 '^Prepared?" questioned Edith, with 
 surprise, she was too well accustomed to 
 him to be alarmed. ' ^ Why, Peter, has 
 anything dreadful happened for which I 
 need be prepared ? " 
 
 '^ Of course, I mean prepared with your 
 speech to Poland when he comes into the 
 drawing-room to-night." 
 
 '' I have not the least intention of making 
 one." 
 
 ''Not make a speech to the man who 
 saved your life ? " 
 
 ''No, Peter, I don't believe in speeches." 
 
 " Well I I must say, even if it vexes you, 
 that I think you will be neglecting a solemn 
 duty — to say nothing of the waste of an 
 opportunity of which you might make so 
 much — of showing your capacity for turning 
 the occasion to the best advantage. But
 
 176 
 
 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 perhaps, Edith," and here Peter spoke low, 
 and came near her, half drawing a paper 
 from his pocket, ^^ perhaps you scarcely 
 know what to say, and I have prepared 
 a sort of rough draft of a simple and 
 appropriate speech which could not fail to 
 please Poland and every one else." 
 
 Edith laughed heartily. '^ Thank you, 
 Peter, I do not doubt that it is beautiful; 
 but I scarcely think anything of the kind 
 will please Mr. Poland; he knows that I 
 am deeply grateful to him, and I do not 
 think he will expect me to tell him so." 
 
 '^ How can you have such a poor opinion 
 of your position and responsibilities ! " ex- 
 claimed Peter, with some impatience. '^ But 
 perhaps it is natural that a woman should not 
 rightly understand these things, and if you 
 liked to depute me to make your acknow- 
 ledgments I think I can promise you that 
 they would be made suitably, and in
 
 COUSIN PETER. 177 
 
 language which would do you no dis- 
 credit/' 
 
 Again Edith's merry laugh disappointed 
 him. 
 
 ^^ Perhaps," he said stiffly, ^^you have 
 been beforehand with me, and have abeady 
 expressed your gratitude, but if so it would 
 better become you to tell me plainly than 
 to turn my carefully-considered — and I may 
 say judicious — suggestions into ridicule." 
 
 ^^ I am not doing that exactly, Peter, 
 indeed I am not ; and I have not even seen 
 him ! " cried Edith, still brimming over with 
 barely-suppressed laughter. '' But the whole 
 idea of my making a speech to that solemn 
 Mr. Poland, who no doubt intensely be- 
 grudges me the safety of my small brains at 
 the expense of his own, is something too 
 absurd. Of course, if there was the least 
 fear that his injury was more than a mere 
 passing one, I should be too much grieved to 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 have a laugh left in my whole composition, 
 but when every one says that he has perfectly 
 recovered, I think I may be excused for 
 seeing that there is a comic side to this 
 painful load of gratitude which I owe to a 
 man whom I particularly dislike." 
 
 '^If you dislike him and feel your grati- 
 tude a burden, it is all the more reason for 
 expressing yourself with care and considera- 
 tion, and if you will treat the matter seriously, 
 Edith, I wish to say that it is one of jDCCuliar 
 interest to me, and I think that acknowledg- 
 ments made at my suggestion would be 
 particularly suitable.'' 
 
 ^^ Oh, Peter ! I almost believe you are 
 going to make me an offer!" cried Edith, 
 who found it impossible to be serious. 
 
 Peter looked highly important and com- 
 placent. '^ Indeed, my dear Edith, you are 
 not far from the truth, but I was debating in 
 my own mind whether I should speak before
 
 COUSIN PETER. 179 
 
 your departure for town — an engagement is a 
 great safeguard to a young woman tln:own 
 for the first time into the whirlpool of society; 
 but perhaps you have scarcely time now to 
 think over all the advantages, and it might 
 be better that it should not be spoken of until 
 you return home." 
 
 ^' Then you feel no doubt that it will be 
 the best arrangement for both of us ? " said 
 Edith, who felt the temptation to draw him 
 out was too great to be resisted, and only 
 wished that Mary was there to listen. 
 
 " No, my dear cousin, I feel no manner of 
 doubt. Our being of the same name is 
 no mean advantage, and then I have known 
 you from childhood, and there are only 
 a few minor points in which I should wish to 
 make radical changes in your character. 
 Your father, I know, holds me in esteem, 
 and will not, I am sure, fail to be pleased 
 that his — may I say rather giddy young
 
 180 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 daughter" — here he smiled indulgently, 
 ^^ should have a judicious guide for her 
 inexperienced feet." 
 
 Edith could control herself no longer. 
 ^^ Oh, Peter!" she cried, with a laugh of 
 such genuine and irrepressible amusement 
 that he shrank a step or two away from 
 her. '' I don't suppose you have the least 
 idea how utterly and entu-ely absurd the 
 whole idea is to me. I can scarcely for 
 a moment believe that you mean it as 
 anything but a joke, and in that light it 
 has been most successful, but it has gone 
 far enough, and I should like you to forget 
 it — as I shall. Now, I must run away, for 
 father wants me." 
 
 ^'Indeed, Edith! — I beg, — It is nothing 
 of the kind ! " stammered Peter, and he 
 held out his hand to detain her, but she 
 passed him quickly, and only turned as 
 she half opened the door.
 
 COUSIN PETER. 181 
 
 ^' We will be very good friends, Peter, 
 but I don't like your joke, and will never 
 listen to another word of it." 
 
 Then she hastened to her father's study. 
 Peter's offers were always common property, 
 and she had no hesitation in speaking on 
 the subject. 
 
 '' Oh, father ! that dear old Peter has 
 just done his duty and offered to be a 
 buffer between me and the vanities of the 
 world," she cried, seating herself in her own 
 particular low chair beside him. 
 
 ^^ Poor Peter ! One more bid for Blithe- 
 field ! Well, my dear, have you accepted 
 with gratitude this substantial safeguard?" 
 
 '' But really, father, it was very annoying, 
 especially as there was no one else there to 
 enjoy the joke." 
 
 ^' Yes, and it is one that has been carried 
 quite far enough. I must give him a hint. 
 I believe he is in reality perfectly single-
 
 182 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 minded, and has no tliought of being a 
 fortune-hunter, but in our more worldly 
 eyes it has an unpleasant appearance. But 
 — tell me — ^how did it come about ? " 
 
 " Oh ! he wanted to write a speech for 
 me to make to Mr. Poland to-night, and 
 then went on to say that no one could 
 have a better right to do it than him- 
 self." 
 
 ^^ I see. I was afraid, my dear, that a 
 spirit of mischief — in which you are not 
 always wanting — might have tempted you 
 to lead him on." 
 
 '^ Perhaps I did a little, father, after he 
 had begun, but not at first. Oh, I do wish 
 you had been there to hear him, and 
 see his solemn manner. We always told 
 Adelaide and Janet that when he proposed 
 to them it must have been the most amusing 
 moment of their lives, but they would 
 never tell us about it.''
 
 COUSIN PETER. 183 
 
 ^^ Of course not; and I hope you will 
 show equal discretion." 
 
 " Oh, father, really Peter does not count ! 
 It would be so different with any one else ! " 
 
 '^ Nevertheless, my child, I cannot have 
 him made a laughing-stock for giddy girls, 
 as your own good taste will show you after 
 a moment's thought." 
 
 Edith looked very blank. ^^ Do you mean 
 that I must not even tell Mary and Erica ? " 
 
 Her father laughed. ^^ So that's too much 
 to expect of you ? Well ; if you must have 
 an outlet, I don't mind your telling Miss 
 Verney ; she seems tolerably discreet, but 
 Erica is an irrepressible child, and she 
 could scarcely resist ridiculing your solemn 
 lover to his face." 
 
 '^But is he my lover, father ? I can't for 
 a moment believe it." 
 
 '^ Not as we should use the word, dear; 
 but according to his own standard he believes
 
 184 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 himself to be. He feels a good deal of 
 honest affection for you; he has a great 
 liking for Blithefield, and a very good 
 opinion of himself. A combination of these 
 feelings is too much for him, and he forgets 
 the construction the world in general 
 would put upon his desire to marry 
 you, although at the moment it is sincere 
 enough." 
 
 '' I su2)pose he was equally sincere when 
 he proposed to Adelaide and Janet ? " 
 
 " No doubt, but they were too discreet to 
 bring the tale of their conquest straight to 
 me. In one case my knowledge of it was 
 the result of my own observation, in the 
 other of inference." 
 
 " A speech almost worthy of Peter 
 himself, father I " said Edith, getting up 
 and kissing him ; ^ ^ as you say I may tell 
 Mary, I must go and do it at once. After 
 all it is a great advantage to have
 
 COUSIN PETER. 185 
 
 something to take off my thoughts from 
 the meeting with Mr. Poland." 
 
 '' You are but a silly girl still, my 
 darling!" said her father, fondly, ^'but 
 you understand my wishes and ways from 
 top to bottom, and you can be wise enough 
 when the humour takes you." 
 
 " Yes, father, I am ^ the master in 
 petticoats,' as nurse used to say, and 
 looking at you from that point, it is 
 astonishing how very inferior the rest of 
 mankind seem in com]3arison. But, how- 
 ever much you may scold me for being 
 silly, and laughing at Peter, I am sure 
 you are like me in this — that you would 
 give a good deal to see that speech which 
 he has prepared for me." 
 
 ^^ I should have no objection, certainly; 
 it would probably be amusing." 
 
 '^Amusing? I should think it would, 
 indeed ! and father, I should not be in the
 
 186 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 least surprised if he showed it to you, he 
 won't like it to be quite wasted, and it 
 will be a good opportunity for you to 
 lament together over my want of wisdom." 
 
 ^^ Well, my dear — if I do read it it will 
 not benefit you, for honour will oblige me 
 to be silent about it." 
 
 ^' We shall see," said Edith, laughing, as 
 she hurried away to find Mary.
 
 187 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AN ORDEAL. 
 
 Laura looked forward to the evening- 
 with great anxiety. Geoffrey had given 
 her so much sympathy and such pleasant 
 companionship in the many hours which 
 they had spent together, and had so 
 evidently prized her society for her own 
 sake, that she had learned to put a new 
 value on herself, and longed to see 
 whether other people would do the same. 
 She had no wish to obtrude the feeling 
 which she and Geoffrey had for each other, 
 but she earnestly desired that it should be 
 seen and recognised, that every one round 
 her should know that she, the despised
 
 188 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 and neglected one of the family, was in 
 her turn appreciated. She could hardly 
 have borne that her father, or sisters, or 
 any third person should have heard those 
 conversations in which she had revealed 
 her sad and perverted views of life, 
 although very often there was nothing 
 personal in them, but she would have 
 wished them to know that Geoffrey cared 
 to talk to her, and listen to her thoughts 
 on subjects beyond the small events of 
 every day. 
 
 She did not wish to talk to him much in 
 public, she knew that she should be almost 
 incapable of expressing an idea while others 
 listened, but she fervently and jealously 
 hoped that he, too, would say little more 
 than civility demanded. They might sit 
 somewhat apart, but within easy distance 
 of each other, in that pleasant silence which 
 is only j)ossible between friends, broken
 
 AN ORDEAL. 189 
 
 now and then by a few sympathetic words 
 which would show that they had much to 
 say if occasion suited. She knew so little 
 of Edith, and of late had seen even less 
 than usual of her, that she had no idea 
 how she would behave to Geoffrey or show 
 her gratitude. If she was demonstrative, 
 he would shrink from her, but she who 
 was so praised for the charm of her manner 
 would probably know exactly how to make 
 her thanks pleasant to him, and then — 
 thought poor Laura — no doubt he would 
 contrast them together, and discover that 
 it was only because lately he had seen 
 no one else that he had cared to be 
 with her. 
 
 A few of the near neighbours were to 
 dine at Blithefield that evening, for Mr. 
 Hilton saw no reason for showing Geoffrey 
 the consideration of keeping the drawing- 
 room quiet for him, and Laura was glad
 
 190 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 that the occasion demanded that she should 
 dress with unusual care, and add some of 
 those little adornments which until lately 
 she had persuaded herself that she des- 
 pised. When she was ready, she went 
 as usual to the blue study for a few 
 minutes before the dinner bell rang. 
 
 ^^ See, Laura," said Geoffrey, as she 
 went in, ^^ while you were all having tea 
 I stole out to the gardener and made 
 him give me these for you," and he 
 held out a bunch of fragrant carnations, 
 shaded from crimson to the faintest blush, 
 for which the Blithefield hot-houses were 
 famous at that time of the year. 
 
 ^^ Oh, how lovely ! " cried Laura with 
 delight. ''Somehow I never have flowers, 
 I have not worn them since that night — " 
 
 '' When I lost my head," interrupted 
 Geoffrey, laughing. '' No, I have noticed 
 that you have not. But, Laura, you must
 
 AN ORDEAL. 191 
 
 not imagine that I shrink from the thought 
 of that evening. I have quite got over 
 the horror of it, and consider my recovery 
 complete." 
 
 ^'Yes, I think it is, and are you very 
 glad to get back to the world again ? " 
 she asked wistfully. 
 
 *^ If by the ^ world ' you mean the 
 society I find in ordinary drawing-rooms, 
 I can truthfully assure you that I am not^ 
 but if instead you mean man's working 
 and fighting ground, I am glad, for I have 
 to win my way there before I can venture 
 to seek for my own personal happiDess." 
 
 ^^ But you will win it?" 
 
 '^ I believe I shall, at least I hope for 
 it. Laura, you should know best how much 
 I hope." He checked himself, for he had 
 already said more than he intended, and it 
 was a relief to both that almost before Laura 
 had time to fasten the flowers into her
 
 192 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 bronze coloured velvet dress, the dinner 
 bell rang. 
 
 ^^I suppose you can scarcely come up 
 here and bring me down, Laura," said 
 Geoffrey, smiling, as he opened the door 
 for her. 
 
 ^^ I don't know ; I suppose not. Do you 
 think I might ? " 
 
 ^^ No, dear, better not," he answered, 
 and sighed as he watched her down the 
 passage, thinking how. sad it was that she, 
 so young, should scarcely understand the 
 existence of a joke. ^^ But I will make 
 her happy, and teach her to laugh some 
 day," he resolved firmly, ^^ although it 
 may be that the time will be long in 
 coming, and the poor lonely child may 
 droop and weary, and grow distrustful, but 
 the waiting is of necessity, not of my 
 choosing, and I should be a fool to kick 
 against it."
 
 AN ORDEAL. 193 
 
 By way of experiment Edith had arranged 
 that Laura should be taken in to dinner by 
 a stranger, staying with his friends in the 
 neighbourhood. Mr. Grierson had a repu- 
 tation for being satirical, and abrupt in 
 manner, and the girls of the house in which 
 he was staying confided to Edith that they 
 found it impossible to get on with him. 
 
 ^' We will see what he and Laura can 
 make of each other," said Edith, mis- 
 chievously ; '^ she has gone through a severe 
 course of training lately in Hking the unlike- 
 able, and perhaps she will understand him 
 better than we shall." And to her surprise 
 she found that the experiment was suc- 
 cessful. 
 
 Mr. Grierson was struck and also interested 
 by the tall pale girl with a melancholy face, 
 who was dressed so much more plainly than 
 the rest of the company, and was glad to 
 offer her his arm, and still more glad when 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 she answered his first observations in as few 
 words as possible, and evidently did not 
 expect to be talked to. He liked to be left 
 at liberty to enjoy his dinner and observe 
 other people, and noticed that his companion 
 took his silence as a matter of course, which 
 naturally after a time made him wish to talk 
 to her. 
 
 '^ You are interested in all these people ?" 
 he asked, abruptly, with a general wave of 
 his hand. 
 
 ^^ No, not particularly. I know them all.'^ 
 
 *^ What a severe speech ! Miss — a — " 
 
 '^ Hilton," supplied Laura. 
 
 ^^ Oh, indeed ! I did not understand that 
 you were one of the daughters of the 
 house." 
 
 ^^No, probably not." 
 
 '' Your eldest sister at the head of the 
 table has an important and brilliant future 
 before her, I understand ? "
 
 AN ORDEAL. 195 
 
 ^^ Yes, but she is not my eldest sister, there 
 are two who are married." 
 
 '^Indeed I but I understood that this one 
 is your father's heiress." 
 
 ^^Yes, by a sort of family arrangement, 
 which is a little puzzling to strangers," 
 answered Laura, quietly. 
 
 " Your father perhaps objects to matrimony 
 for his daughters ? " 
 
 " No, not at all, but his heiress's husband 
 must fit into his mould," said Laura, uncon- 
 sciously quoting Geoffrey. 
 
 ^' I see, and your elder sisters' husbands 
 did not quite fit ? " 
 
 ^^No." 
 
 "You have another sister younger than 
 yourself, I think, — will the property go on 
 descending in case of continued failure, and 
 refusal of the round man to fit into the 
 square hole ? " 
 
 " No, I believe it will go no further."
 
 196 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^ An interesting family history. Miss 
 Hilton ; one wishes to be intimate enough to 
 know it better and watch it further." 
 
 ^^ It seems commonplace enough to us," 
 answered Laura. 
 
 '' Nothing can be commonplace which 
 has to do with your brilliant sister, I should 
 think," said Mr. Grierson, looking with 
 admiration at Edith's bright face at the 
 head of the table, and Laura sighed as she 
 thought of the contrast which strangers 
 must make between her and her sister, and 
 that she must ever expect to fade into the 
 shadow in her presence. It was very hard, 
 but as long as she could she would believe 
 that Geoffrey was not like other men, and 
 that regardless of Edith's beauty and charm 
 of manner, he would be faithful in his affec- 
 tion for her. 
 
 When the gentlemen left the dining-room 
 Geoffrey met them in the hall, and after
 
 AN ORDEAL. 197 
 
 short greetings from those whom he knew, 
 they all went into the drawing-room 
 together. Laura was, as usual, sitting a 
 little apart, and he went straight up to her, 
 conscious that all who were interested in 
 them would mark his doing so, but care- 
 less at the moment of everything but 
 paying her an attention which he knew 
 would please her. 
 
 After a minute Mrs. Mathewson came up 
 to him, and with her Mary Verney, who 
 spoke pleasantly and easily, and altogether 
 ignored the fact that they had not met for 
 three weeks. Then came Edith and her 
 father, and she held out her hand and said — 
 
 '^ I am glad to see you again, Mr. Poland," 
 and he said, '^ Thank you ;" wondering 
 whether this was to be all, and he had been 
 fool enough to shrink from a scene which 
 was never to be acted. 
 
 Then when Edith turned to other guests
 
 198 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Peter came, and fussily expressed his pleasure 
 at meeting again. Half an hour had been 
 sufficient to restore his self-esteem and com- 
 posure after Edith's rejection. She was but 
 a girl, he reflected, there would be plenty of 
 time for speaking to her when she had 
 sobered down a little, and doubtless after a 
 season of butterfly attentions she would be 
 more inclined to listen gratefully to his 
 honest proposals. He already felt a sense 
 of ]Droprietorship in her which made him 
 anxious to represent her in the best light to 
 the man to whom he owed a debt for saving 
 her life. It would not be well that 
 this stranger should think lightly of her 
 good heart or good sense, so drawing 
 Geoffrey a little aside he began a studied 
 apology for the absence of public acknow- 
 ledgments. 
 
 ^^ We are all truly glad to welcome you 
 amongst us again, Poland," he said; ^^ but
 
 AN ORDEAL. 199 
 
 I am afraid my young cousin's somewhat 
 giddy manner may lead you to suppose 
 that she does not properly appreciate 
 what you have done for her, but I assure 
 you " 
 
 ^^My dear fellow, nothing of the kind!" 
 interrupted Geoffrey, a little rudely. '' Miss 
 Hilton has shown her good taste in ignoring 
 an occurrence which it must be unpleasant 
 to every one to remember ; " and he turned 
 abruptly away, leaving Peter so ruffled and 
 disconcerted that Mary Verney, who had 
 been watching them, kindly hurried to him, 
 and claiming his attention, managed to 
 prevent him from displaying his wounded 
 feelings any further. 
 
 Geoffrey did not find the assembled com- 
 pany particularly interesting, and many 
 times wished himself back again in the blue 
 study with Laura. He spoke little to any one, 
 and listened carelessly to music and singing
 
 200 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 of average merit, but he sat most of the time 
 within speaking distance of her, and said a 
 few words now and then, w^hich made her 
 content, without drawing general attention 
 upon them; but Mrs. Mathewson, who had 
 obstinately refused to believe it possible that 
 her fastidious nephew could give a serious 
 thought to this unattractive girl when others 
 were at hand, watched them a little uneasily, 
 and detecting now and then a look or smile 
 provoked by mutual understanding or enjoy- 
 ment of something that was going on, felt 
 that her confidence in Geoffrey might after 
 all have been misplaced, and that however 
 much she and every one else might under- 
 rate Laura, he found pleasure in her sym- 
 pathy and companionship. 
 
 Edith, fearing to seem neglectful, came 
 after a time and began to talk to him. 
 
 ^^You have not been able to see much 
 of our pretty home, Mr. Poland, but even
 
 AN ORDEAL. 201 
 
 from the windows of the blue study you can 
 get some idea of it." 
 
 " Yes, it is looking beautiful ; you will be 
 sorry to leave it for the smoke and dust of 
 London," he said, civilly. 
 
 '^ Indeed I shall, for it has seldom seemed 
 to me more lovely than just now, and I 
 owe it to you that I am saved to see it once 
 more," she answered, with quiet earnestness. 
 He bowed silently, and she turned to speak 
 to some one else, and the dreaded scene was 
 over. It had been well done, he thought to 
 himself, and she had said neither too much 
 nor too little. 
 
 ^*Not a very formidable business after 
 all, Laura," he said, sitting down beside 
 her. ^^ Perhaps I should have paid her some 
 unmeaning compliment. What do you 
 think?" 
 
 '^ She might have expected it — I do not 
 know;" answered Laura, slowly; ^Mjut
 
 202 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 I myself should have jDreferred your 
 silence." 
 
 ^'But then you understand me, and it is 
 not given to every one to do that," said 
 Geoffrey, laughing; and as she smiled 
 back at him, Mrs. Mathewson, observant and 
 uneasy, thought it was quite time to claim 
 his attention. 
 
 Wlien Edith sat quietly in her room that 
 night, and thought over what had passed, 
 she scarcely knew whether she was satisfied 
 or not. The idea of owing one's life to 
 another person must in most cases be 
 painful, but when the person to whom you 
 owe it is almost a stranger, who has yet had 
 opportunity for treating you with marked 
 indifference, the debt becomes indeed a 
 burden. Prejudiced from the first against 
 Geoffrey Poland, by Mary Verney's account 
 of his obstinate unsociability with her, and 
 by Mrs. Mathewson' s unwise exaltation of his
 
 AN ORDEAL. 203 
 
 character, while at the same time she con- 
 fessed that his manner was often unpleasing, 
 Edith had scarcely had the choice of liking 
 him, and when added to that he had shown 
 no inclination to share in the kindly homage 
 paid to her on this occasion, as the cause 
 of the family gathering, and hospitality to 
 the neighbourhood, she could scarcely avoid 
 feeling irritated and offended. 
 
 She was not, however, narrow-minded 
 enough to forget that there were many 
 characters, especially amongst men, into 
 which she possessed no insight. Her father 
 she read like an open book, her brothers-in- 
 law were scarcely subtle enough to be 
 puzzling, and of other men she had had 
 small experience. Cousin Peter, Richard 
 Allen, and a few others, were often about 
 the house, too often for her to have thought 
 of especially studying them, but now she 
 recognised in Geoffrey something completely
 
 204 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 new, and as it happened, disagreeable, but 
 certainly interesting. The most puzzling thing 
 about him to her was his liking for Laura, 
 who had j)ersistently from childhood refused 
 to be one of the family, who had mocked at 
 offered kindness, scoffed at any attempts for 
 her improvement, and had been the one 
 daily thorn in the almost unruffled smooth- 
 ness of the Blithefield household. But the 
 fact ^remained, and Edith blushed that she 
 should feel vexed at it, he preferred un- 
 popular Laura to her own beloved, indulged, 
 and really right-meaning self. How coldly 
 and ungraciously he had taken her 
 acknowledgment this evening, and yet 
 she had painstakingly adapted it to what 
 she believed would be his liking ! But 
 would she after all have preferred that he 
 should have answered it with conventional 
 deprecation ? 
 
 '' Oh, it was nothing, I assure you ! of no
 
 AN ORDEAL. 2U5 
 
 consequence at all, nothing to thank me 
 for!" No, she should have despised him 
 then, and with all her irritation against him 
 she had never yet seen reason to do that. 
 Well, he was interesting, there was no doubt 
 about it, and she a little envied Laura her 
 intimate acquaintance with him, but no 
 doubt when she saw more of him in the 
 prosaic light of every- day companionship 
 her interest would grow less, and it was 
 only idle for her to think much about him, 
 for if he was to be her sister's husband 
 she would probably see little of him, for she 
 and Laura had never been good friends, and 
 marriage would only still more divide them. 
 ^^But it shall not be my fault if we are 
 not friendly as brother and sister," she 
 resolved, before she went to sleep, ^' and I 
 should like somehow to prove to him that my 
 life was worth saving after all."
 
 206 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 GOOD-BYE. 
 
 When G-eoffrej went into the drawing-room 
 the next morning with Mr. Hilton, to say 
 good-bye, all the ladies of the party were 
 there excepting Laura. 
 
 ^^ Well, Geoffrey, it is not a long leave- 
 taking for us, said Mrs. Mathewson, ^' but 
 it would have been more convenient and 
 sociable if you had waited until to-morrow." 
 
 ^^ I have an engagement for this evening, " 
 he answered, shortly. 
 
 '' Yes, but I daresay it could have been 
 put off, but however that may be, you will 
 be at home to dinner to-morrow, of course ? "
 
 GOOD-BYE. 207 
 
 ^^I hope so. And now, I suppose, my 
 time is up.'' 
 
 ^^ Where is Laura?" asked Mr. Hilton. 
 ^' She will not like you to go without saying 
 good-bye." 
 
 '' I have just seen her/' answered 
 Geofcey; and then, when they had passed 
 through the hall, and he stood on the 
 doorstep, he added, '' Good-bye, sir, and 
 many thanks for all your kindness and 
 care." 
 
 '^ Oh, there is nothing to be said about 
 that, or I must speak again of the debt I 
 owe to you; but we shall be seeing you 
 here again very soon, of course." 
 
 Mr. Hilton felt that this was a needful 
 bit of fatherly wisdom for Laura, and that 
 it was quite necessary that the young man 
 should be reminded that attentions such as 
 his were expected to lead to something. 
 
 '^I hope so, indeed," answered Geoffrey,
 
 208 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 earnestly; ^^but I have to put my shoulder 
 to the wheel and make some progress before 
 I can think of taking another holiday, even 
 to visit beautiful BKthefield.'' Then with 
 another shake of the hand he was driven 
 away. 
 
 Mr. Hilton tm^ned back into the house in 
 some distress. Had he done rightly by his 
 motherless girl in letting this young man go 
 away without finding out whether he was 
 in earnest in his liking for her, or had 
 only been whiling away idle time ? But 
 what could he have done ? he could not 
 force his daughter upon any man, he could 
 not lay liimself open to the charge of 
 wanting to get rid of her, either for her 
 sake or for his own, and he was even 
 deprived of Mrs. Mathewson's help in this 
 perplexity, for she refused to see that there 
 was reason for supposing that Geoffrey had 
 any intentions, and, although her own mind
 
 GOOD-BYE. 209 
 
 misgave her, declared that she believed that 
 neither he nor Laura had any feeling but 
 friendship for each other. 
 
 Meanwhile, as lie drove through the park, 
 Geoffrey's mind was equally disturbed. 
 Until Mr. Hilton made his parting speech, 
 which he had done with some emphasis, he 
 had believed that no one but himself and 
 Laura had any suspicion of their attach- 
 ment to each other — indeed, he himself had 
 scarcely known the strength of his own 
 feeling until Laura, white, trembling, but 
 tearless, stood up to wish him good-bye in 
 the blue study, with one hand grasping the 
 table for support. He looked down into her 
 sad eyes for a moment, and then put his 
 arm round her shoulders. 
 
 '^ Laura, my love I " he exclaimed, but 
 even then checked further words, and 
 kissing her gravely and earnestly let her 
 go. ^'I will come back, God knows, the 
 
 VOL I. p
 
 210 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 first possible moment!" he said. ^^ You 
 will not be unhappy?" 
 
 '' Oh no, Geoffrey," she answered, her 
 eyes gentle and full of tears now, and 
 at that moment she seemed to him almost 
 beautiful ; but he believed he was right in 
 leaving her thus, and with a clasp of the 
 hand he turned away. '' You will watch 
 for me, Laura ? " he said from the door- 
 way. She answered with a silent gesture, 
 and he was gone. 
 
 All this passed through his mind again 
 as he drove on, at one moment regretting 
 his caution, and at another assuring himself 
 that he had done the only thing that was 
 right. 
 
 '' Stop here for a moment, please," he said 
 to the groom, as they came to a sharp turn 
 in the road; from whence, looking back, 
 there was a wide view of the Blithefield 
 woods, then he stood up and waved his hat
 
 GOOD-BYE. 211 
 
 several times, and sat down again with a 
 smile. ^^ You can go on now," he said, 
 and the groom wondered, and thought the 
 '• young gentleman still seemed rather 
 queer in his head like." 
 
 One thought filled Geoffrey's mind all 
 through the journey up to town. ^' I love 
 her to-day : shall I love her in remembrance 
 a month hence?" he asked himself over 
 and over again, and no previous knowledge 
 of his own character enabled him to answer 
 the question. He distrusted himself to an 
 extent which was painful and humiliating, 
 and was, perhaps, unjust to her. He had 
 felt assured years ago, when the subject 
 had first interested him from a safe dis- 
 tance, that he had strength of character 
 enough to defend himself from the ordinary 
 weakness of mankind, and that excepting 
 with his own consent, he would never fall 
 a victim to the undesirable passion of
 
 212 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 love. He would, probably, marry some 
 day, rather late in life, but it would be a 
 woman whom his taste and reason approved 
 as a companion, and whose society would 
 embelKsh — but in no way disturb — his 
 com-se of life. And yet, now he beKeved 
 he voas in love, in love like any common 
 unreasoning fool I In love with a woman 
 who was neither beautiful, nor educated, 
 nor talented, to furnish him with an 
 excuse, who was passed over by all who 
 knew her best, and yet who, first in his 
 suffering and weakness, and afterwards in 
 the long hours of returning health and 
 necessary idleness, had been to him the 
 only truly sympathetic companion he had 
 ever known. 
 
 '^ After all," he thought, ^^what aa 
 absurd value each individual puts upon 
 himself ! I struggle and doubt, because I 
 am not sure that this girl is the best wife
 
 GOOD-BYE. 213 
 
 that Proyidence can send me, quite as 
 mucli as from hesitation over the good 1 
 can bring to her. I know that countless 
 better men than I am go through life 
 without ever finding what people call, ' a 
 kindred soul;' and women without number 
 — fairer and wiser than my little Laura — 
 live and die unmarried ; and yet I hesitate 
 for myself and for her, and am unwilling 
 to speak the words which would bind us 
 for life together." 
 
 But argue with himself as he would, he 
 still believed that it was the best wisdom 
 for them both that they should remain 
 apart for awhile.
 
 214 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 LOST. 
 
 The party gathered round the luncheon table 
 a few hours after Greoffrey's departure was 
 a very small one. 
 
 - Peter — not feeling quite happy, and having 
 an uneasy apprehension that every one in the 
 house knew of his rejection — which yet he. 
 assured himself was only due to girlish 
 caprice and indecision, had made the most of 
 an indefinite invitation from the Bonars, 
 and had gone to inflict himself upon them 
 for a day or two before returning to his 
 bachelor lodgings at Brighton ; and Erica 
 was spending the day with a friend at
 
 LOST. 215 
 
 Mornington, where her father had gone on 
 business as a magistrate. 
 
 ''' Where is Laura?" asked Mrs, Mathewson, 
 as she and Edith and Mary sat down to the 
 table. 
 
 ^' I don't know,'' answered Edith carelessly. 
 *' She is often late. Stephens, does Miss 
 Laura know it is luncheon time ? ^' 
 
 ^^I struck the gong, miss, as usual," 
 answered Stephens; "but I believe Miss 
 Laura has not come home.'' 
 
 " Oh, it is all right, Aunt Sarah ; we never 
 wait for her if she has gone out," said Edith; 
 but she felt a Httle sad for her sister, 
 knowing that she must feel the loss of 
 her companion and friend. But there was 
 a good deal to be arranged and thought 
 about before she left home the next day, 
 and it was not until her father came home 
 late, and said, 
 
 ^^Well, what has Laura been doing with
 
 216 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 herself r " that she remembered that she had 
 not seen her since breakfast time. She 
 ran hastily upstairs and looked for her, 
 first in her own room and then in the blue 
 study, but she found her in neither. 
 
 ^' Miss Laura went out a few minutes 
 before Mr. Poland left," said Ellis, the 
 girl's maid, in answer to inquiries. 
 
 ^^ And you have not seen her since?" 
 asked Edith. 
 
 ' ' No, miss. She has not been in, I'm 
 sure, or I should have seen her thick boots 
 and ulster. I never knew Miss Laura do 
 this sort of thing before, Miss Edith." 
 
 ''• No, Ellis ; but she must have promised 
 to go somewhere, and then forgotten to 
 tell us," answered Edith, but she began 
 to feel really uneasy. 
 
 It was past six o'clock now, and Laura 
 must have gone out before eleven. It was 
 true that now and then she did not come
 
 LOST. 217 
 
 in to luncheon, but on those occasions she 
 had invariably come in to afternoon tea with 
 -a good appetite, and had given some sort of 
 account of her absence. It was so unlike 
 her to draw attention to herself in this 
 manner, especially when there might be 
 something to observe, and no doubt she 
 was feeling deeply the loss of her companion 
 — her lover— Edith said to herself, although 
 she would not have let it pass her lips, and 
 there was nothing to be done but just let 
 her father know the state of the case, and 
 leave him to judge whether there was really 
 •cause for uneasiness. 
 
 Mr. Hilton, feeling considerable doubt of 
 his own wisdom in the management of this 
 uncongenial daughter, spoke to Edith some- 
 what severely. 
 
 '' You do not mean to say that you have 
 let all these hours go by, and when your 
 sister has not come in to luncheon or tea.
 
 218 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 have passed it over without inquiry?" he 
 said. 
 
 ^^ Well, you see, father dear, Laura hates 
 being fussed over, and we all knew that she 
 would feel dull to-day and would wish to be 
 alone ; and yet that is not quite all the truth, 
 for I have been so busy that, excepting at 
 meal times, I confess that I have not thought 
 of her." 
 
 ^^You are quite sure that the servants 
 know nothing of her ? " 
 
 ^^ Yes, father, I asked Ellis, and she 
 said tliat Laura put on her ulster and 
 thick boots, and went out just before 
 Geoffrey Poland left." 
 
 Mr. Hilton took a turn up and down the 
 room, and before he spoke again Mrs. 
 Mathewson knocked at the door and 
 came in. 
 
 ^^ Well, have you found her, Edith?" 
 she asked, somewhat anxiously.
 
 LOST. 219 
 
 ^' No," answered Edith, dejectedly. 
 
 ^^ Sarah! it is not possible that that 
 nephew of yours has persuaded the poor 
 child to go off with him ? " said Mr. 
 Hilton, stopjDing in front of her, and 
 speaking with great agitation. 
 
 ^'Wedgwood! How can you think of 
 such a thing ? Of course not I If you 
 don't know your own daughter better 
 than that, I can answer for Geoffrey." 
 
 ^^ But you see," said Mr. Hilton anxiously, 
 ^^ youi' nephew is not quite like other 
 people, and my poor child is different too. 
 They have not told us their thoughts all 
 this while, and it might be that they 
 have taken into their heads to go off and 
 get married without a word to any 
 one." 
 
 ^' I am quite sure that Geoffre}'' is 
 incapable of such a dishonourable action," 
 answered Mrs. Mathewson, angrily.
 
 220 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 '' But, my dear Sarah, it might not 
 be altogether a dishonourable intention; 
 no doubt he has seen how deficient we 
 have been in sympathy towards this poor 
 child, and he might think that he was 
 doing well for her ; but after all it is mere 
 nonsense to talk like this, and she may 
 come in at any moment; at any rate, I 
 will go and have a look for her." 
 
 Mr. Hilton went round to the stables, and 
 in as casual a way as possible, sought out 
 the groom who had driven Geoffrey to the 
 station. 
 
 ^^ You were in good time for the train 
 this morning, Morris ? " he asked. 
 
 ^^ Yes, sir ; we had a few minutes to 
 spare." 
 
 ^^Ah! you were not hindered on the 
 road then — you met no acquaintance ? " 
 
 ^' No, sir ; we never stopped at all, except 
 just a moment when the gentleman made
 
 LOST. 221 
 
 me pull up a-bit while he looked back and 
 waved his hat." 
 
 '^ Oh, I see, to say good-bye, in case we 
 were watching him." 
 
 ^^Yes, sir, I s'pose so;" and then Morris, 
 having nothing more to say, went on with 
 his work. 
 
 ^^She cannot have gone with him," Mr. 
 Hilton thought to himself, as he went back 
 to the house. '' They certainly did not 
 meet on the way if Morris has told me the 
 truth, and she had not time to get to the 
 station. The child always was odd, and 
 has been left to take her own way, and 
 perhaps it is only foolish to worry over 
 her ; but I will do her the justice to say 
 that it is the first time she has caused me 
 real anxiety in all her life." 
 
 When the dinner-bell rang at seven 
 o'clock, Laura was still absent, and after 
 a hurried and almost silent meal, Mr.
 
 222 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Hilton felt that, in spite of his dislike to 
 calling attention to her strange behaviour, 
 it was quite necessary that some steps 
 should be taken to discover where she 
 was. 
 
 '' Do you think she can have gone to 
 Adelaide, or Janet ? " he asked of Edith, 
 meeting her in the hall, as, pale and 
 anxious, she came back from another 
 fruitless visit to Laura's room. 
 
 ^'It is possible, father; we might send 
 and inquire," she said; but she did not 
 herself believe it would be of any use. 
 
 '' Surely, Wedgwood, you cannot still 
 think it possible that Geoffrey has taken 
 the child away?" said Mrs. Mathewson, 
 resentfully but anxiously, when he came 
 back from sending two men on horseback 
 to the houses of his married daughters. 
 
 ^'No, Sarah, I do not say that I think 
 so, but I still consider it possible. In the
 
 LOST, 223 
 
 meantime, I am going with Stephens and 
 Morris all through the park ; there is no 
 knowing what accident may have befallen 
 her." 
 
 '^ Let me come, too, father?" asked 
 Edith. 
 
 '^ No, darling, it would be better not. I 
 should wish you to be here if she comes 
 home. God grant that it may be all a 
 false alarm ; but, at any rate, it has taught 
 me how dear the child with all her faults 
 is to me, and I trust to you to be kind to 
 her if she does come." 
 
 Edith's eyes filled with tears. ^^I am 
 afraid I have not been kind, father ; but 
 I feel now as you do." 
 
 It was past ten o'clock when the 
 men retm-ned with notes of distress and 
 anxiety from Adelaide and Janet. Neither 
 of them had seen anything of their sister, 
 and it was only the superior wisdom of
 
 224 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 their husbands, who represented that thej 
 could be of no use, which prevented them 
 both from hurrying to Blithefield, but their 
 father might count upon their being there 
 early next morning. 
 
 Edith opened and read the notes, but it 
 was much later before her father returned. 
 
 '' We have been all round the park, 
 through the greater part of the woods and 
 up to the Look-out, but can find no trace 
 of her," he said. ^' I fancied once that I 
 heard a faint call in answer to our shouts, 
 but it must have been fancy, for we could 
 not hear a sound again. Both lodge-keepers 
 say that they have seen nothing of 
 her, and Morris, after seeing the police, 
 came back by the station, but she had 
 not been seen there." 
 
 ^^ Father, what do you think ? " asked 
 Edith, putting her arm round his neck. 
 
 *' I can think nothing," he answered.
 
 LOST. 225 
 
 '^ I can only feel that I have never been 
 a father to her," and Edith could not 
 answer better than by silent kisses. 
 
 Lights were kept burning in Laura's 
 window all the night, and the early 
 morning found the whole household astir 
 again ; but still there was no trace of the 
 missing girl. Morris and another groom 
 started off at daybreak to make fresh 
 inquiries in every likely part of the neigh- 
 bourhood, and after a hasty breakfast, 
 which Edith came down to give to him, 
 Mr. Hilton went out to direct the searches 
 of half-a-dozen men who were bidden to 
 leave not a yard of the estate unexplored. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 226 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 Laura's vigil. 
 
 The point in Blithefield Park which was 
 called the Look-out was about a mile away 
 from the house, and was approached by a 
 steep winding path, which although seldom 
 used was always kept in good order. A 
 group of enormous old Scotch firs marked 
 the spot for miles round ; and although Mr. 
 Hilton was not too gracious in allowing 
 his neighbom's to enjoy the beauty of his 
 estate, it was a recognised custom that 
 during the summer months those who 
 chose to apply at the lodge gates were 
 allowed to visit this beautiful point of 
 view, and admire at their leisure the
 
 Laura's vigil. 227 
 
 huge red trunks and sj)reading limbs of 
 these old noblemen of the woods. 
 
 For some yards on each side of them 
 the ground was cleared of undergrowth, 
 and a wide space of rough grass, broken 
 here and there by a patch of heather and 
 bracken, sloped down to a steep and 
 broken bank, beneath which the oak 
 woods began. 
 
 On one side of this cleared space a 
 very narrow path led further into the 
 woods, a jjath so little used as to be 
 almost forgotten, excepting by any one 
 who happened to remember that there 
 was a point, not easily gained however, 
 from which the winding road to the 
 station could be seen for a greater 
 distance than even from the higher ground 
 of the Look-out. 
 
 It was not until nearly midday that Mr. 
 Hilton, sick at heart of the fruitless search
 
 228 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 for his daughter, for the second tirae climbed 
 wearily up the wider path to see if there 
 were any signs of his returning messengers. 
 He was no longer either young or active, 
 and it was seldom now that he exerted 
 himself to walk so far, and the fact that 
 there was a path leading further into the 
 woods had for the time escaped his 
 memory ; but as he stood alone under 
 the solemn stately trees, straining every 
 nerve to catch a sight or sound, once 
 more he fancied that he heard the faint 
 cry, which, after vain search the night 
 before, he had unwillingly persuaded him- 
 self was only the result of his own anxiety. 
 But now, as he stood there in the still 
 morning sunshine, a shiver ran through 
 him, as very faintly — not once — but twice 
 at least, he believed he heard a call, 
 ^^ Father! Father!'' 
 
 ^^ Laura! I am here! I am coming!"
 
 Laura's vigil. 229 
 
 he shouted, as with a sudden recollection 
 of the old path, now nearly overgrown, 
 he plunged through a wilderness of 
 withered ferns and springing heather, 
 calling at every moment, '^ Laura! Laura!" 
 But suddenly he stopped in dismay, for 
 his way was barred by fallen bushes and 
 mounds of earth, and looking up he saw 
 above him a freshly-broken bank torn 
 asunder by the roots of falling trees. 
 ^^ Laura! Laura!" he cried again, and 
 then faint but unmistakeable came the 
 answer, " Father, I am here." 
 
 He was not accustomed to exertion, and 
 although excitement gave him strength it 
 was several minutes before, guided by her 
 feeble voice, he found himself beside her, 
 where she lay half-hidden beneath the 
 boughs. 
 
 ''My child! Thank God, I have found 
 you ! Are you terribly hurt ? "
 
 230 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^ No, father, I am not hurt, I think; but 
 I cannot move, and I have been here, oh, 
 so long! since yesterday." 
 
 ^' Are you in any pain?" he asked, stooping 
 to her, and almost fearing to hear that she 
 had gone beyond that. 
 
 ^^No, I believe it is true that I am not 
 hurt, but I am fixed down and cannot stir, 
 and oh ! I am so tired and cold ! " 
 
 Her father, by leaning over, could reach 
 her face where she lay, and he bent down 
 and kissed her. 
 
 ^^ You must wait a little while more, my 
 child, while I go for help. I shall only hurt 
 you if I try with my own strength. To 
 think that I should have been such a thought- 
 less fool as to bring neither food nor wine! 
 But God keep you until I get back again." 
 
 But even while he was speaking her eyes 
 closed, and her white face grew whiter as 
 she fainted away.
 
 Laura's vigil. 231 
 
 Hurrying back, shouting as he went, 
 Mr. Hilton met Morris at the Look-out. A 
 few words explained the matter sufficiently, 
 and the groom hastened away — first to send 
 two or three men to help his master, and 
 then on to the house to tell Edith what had 
 happened, and to bring back food and wine. 
 
 Mrs. Mathewson had telegraphed to her 
 housekeeper the first thing in the morning, 
 to say that her return was unavoidably 
 delayed; and although she did not for a 
 moment share in Mr. Hilton's distrust of 
 Geoffrey, she thought it only fair to him 
 to ask for a return telegram to say whether 
 he had arrived. 
 
 It was, of course, impossible that Edith 
 should leave home under the present 
 circumstances; and when Morris hurried 
 into the hall, too eager to go round the 
 back way, or stand on ceremony, she was 
 dividing her attention between a telegram
 
 232 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 which Mrs. Mathewson had just received 
 from Geoffrey in answer to her own, and 
 anxious inquiries from Mrs. Paget, who 
 had driven over with her nurse and baby, 
 to stay with her father if he required her. 
 
 ^^ She's found, miss ! " cried Morris, breath- 
 lessly. ^^ And she ain't much hurt, but just 
 half-starved ; and Master says will you give 
 me food and wine to take back, and send 
 for the doctor." 
 
 Edith rang the bell and gave her orders 
 to a servant who appeared on the instant, 
 before asking a single question ; but it 
 needed only a few words to explain that 
 Laura had been lying there helpless for 
 the last twenty-four hours while they had 
 sought her and feared for her in the wrong 
 directions. 
 
 Morris, starting at a run with the needed 
 restoratives, was out of sight before Edith 
 and Erica could get ready to start, leaving
 
 Laura's vigil. 2'^'^ 
 
 orders that the low pony carriage should 
 follow them as quicklj as possible ; and while 
 Mrs. Paget stood at the door watching them, 
 Mrs. Mathewson turned to Mary, who was 
 close beside her, and almost whispered — 
 
 ^^Did you think she had gone with 
 Geoffrey, Mary ? Do you believe what they 
 say is true — that he cares for her ? " 
 
 *^ Yes, Aunt Sarah, I do believe it, and I 
 •did think she l^.ad gone with him, but I ask 
 pardon from them both ; and oh ! how she 
 must have suferedl Of course, she went 
 there to watch for him, and has been there 
 all this while. My heart aches for her." 
 
 Mrs. Mathewson had known Laura and 
 her unjDleasant temper too long to share 
 in Mary's extreme sympathy ; but she 
 was obliged to acknowledge to herself that 
 she had been altogether wrong in the 
 view she had taken of late of Laura's 
 character.
 
 234 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 She had believed her to be incapable of 
 the ordinary feelings and weaknesses with 
 which sh3 had had to deal in other girls, 
 and now she found herself brought face to 
 face with what was apparently a romantic 
 passion, with which she could not in any 
 way sympathise. She had been most 
 foolish and short-sighted — she saw it now 
 — in allowing Greofcey and Laura to be so 
 much together, but it was too late to 
 repent, the mischief was done, and she 
 could only console herself by thinking that 
 the nephew — who was as dear to her as a 
 son, would be doing well for himself from 
 a worldly point of view, if his infatuation 
 should prove lasting. 
 
 Laura, with her ten thousand pounds, 
 was not a wife to be despised, and he 
 seemed, to other people at least, to have a 
 genuine liking for her; but his aunt had 
 hoped that he would marry some one very
 
 Laura's vigil. 2-^5 
 
 different, and had been prepared to ensure 
 that no money difficulties should stand in 
 his way, if he chose a wife whom she 
 should consider worthy of him. She had 
 had a dream — short -Kved, indeed, but 
 pleasant — that Mr. Hilton might so value 
 Geoffrey's character, that he would be 
 willing to overlook all shortcomings, and 
 recommend him to Edith's notice, in such 
 a manner, as to ensure her consent to a 
 marriage in which one would possess 
 wealth indeed, but the other those qualities 
 of mind which were infinitely above sordid 
 advantages, when it so hajDpened that they 
 were not combined. But she had soon 
 awakened from such di^eams. Mr. Hilton 
 — in all unconsciousness — had made her 
 thoroughly aware that his son-in-law, the 
 husband of his heiress, must be heart and 
 soul a country gentleman, and she could 
 not but acknowledge that for such a
 
 236 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 position Geoffrey was probably, of all men, 
 the most unfitted. But yet the dream was 
 dear, and even while softened towards 
 Laura, she could not feel it possible to 
 welcome her in Edith's place. 
 
 The return home from the scene of 
 the accident was accomplished quickly and 
 easily ; but even when Laura was rested and 
 restored, and able to talk, it was not quite 
 easy to understand what had happened, 
 nor was she herself clear about it. 
 
 ^' I put my arm round a branch and 
 leaned forward," she said, ^' and then the 
 ground gave way under my feet, and I 
 fell, a long way down, and before I could 
 move the tree fell over me and held me 
 there ; " and then Adelaide, who was 
 sitting beside her, saw that she could as 
 yet scarcely bear the thought of it, and 
 she asked no more. 
 
 ^' I suppose we must put off our going 
 
 i
 
 Laura's vigil. 2'j7 
 
 indefinitely," said Mrs. Mathewson, grudg- 
 ingly, when she was talking to the doctor, 
 who, while he assured them that there 
 was no positive injury, said that he could 
 not yet foretell the effects of the long 
 exposure and nervous strain. 
 
 '^ If you will forgive my speaking 
 plainly," he answered, ^' I will say that 
 for Miss Laura's sake the sooner you go 
 the better. She is painfully anxious that 
 no fuss should be made over her, and I 
 imagine that she has some special reason — 
 may I conjecture that it is to save some one 
 from anxiety ? — for making as light of the 
 whole matter as possible. Unless some- 
 thing unforeseen arises, I shall be inclined 
 to fall in with her wishes, and let her get 
 up and sit in her favourite study to-morrow. 
 She and I have met there many times in 
 the last few weeks." 
 
 He paused significantly, but Mrs.
 
 238 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Mathewson did not choose to understand 
 him. 
 
 ^^ Of course, in that case there is no 
 reason for delaying our going/' she said ; 
 ^'and as Mrs. Paget will be here for a few 
 days, we may leave without anxiety." 
 
 ^^ Oh, yes," answered the doctor, who 
 rather disliked Mrs. Mathewson and her 
 pronounced medical theories, and during 
 Geofcey's illness had learned to be interested 
 in the disagreeable member of the family, 
 who had done so much towards his patient's 
 cure. 
 
 So it was settled, that as Mrs. Mathewson 
 had many engagements in town, she and 
 Edith should leave Blitheiield the next 
 morning, and that Mrs. Paget should stay 
 for a few days until the household had 
 recovered its usual calm. 
 
 That she should be left alone, safe, and 
 warm, and quiet, with the firelight shining
 
 Laura's vigil. 239 
 
 upon her as she lay in bed, and a soft air 
 from the open window moving the curtains, 
 was Laura's one desire. She was tired, 
 and aching in every limb, and intensely 
 wakeful, but she had no wish to sleep ; 
 she wanted just to go over in her own 
 mind all that had happened, and come 
 to a clear understanding with herself how 
 far she had betrayed her desire to catch 
 the last passing glimpse of her departing 
 friend. There was a careful and intentional 
 reticence in her thoughts which prevented 
 her from naming him even to herself as 
 her lover, excepting in moments when the 
 thought leaped up unawares, and even then, 
 mingled with happiness, came distrust of 
 her own power to retain him. 
 
 She believed in him completely, he would 
 at least be a faithful friend to her, and 
 although he had seemed to say that it might 
 be long before they met again, she was
 
 240 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 rich in remembrance, and could afford to 
 wait. 
 
 She was patient and tractable, and did 
 everything she was told for the rest of the 
 day; she was so anxious to be well, and 
 to have no fuss made over her, and still 
 more anxious that Mrs. Mathewson and 
 Edith should not delay their going, and 
 so make the accident, which she knew 
 must come to Geoffrey's ears, appear of 
 importance. 
 
 She smiled to herself as she thought that 
 if she could tell him about it she should 
 not mind— she could make it seem natural, 
 and he would quite understand, and be 
 interested ; but the impression he would get 
 from the story as told by others might 
 be very different ; and yet she could not 
 bring herself to ask them to make light of it. 
 
 When she woke the next morning she 
 felt tired and weak, but there was no sign
 
 Laura's vigil. 241 
 
 of illness about her, and when the doctor 
 came he assured them all that there was 
 no cause for anxiety, and that he feared no 
 worse consequences than the exhaustion 
 which might be expected from the long 
 fasting and exposure. 
 
 Laura had been conscious that Adelaide 
 and Edith had come into her room several 
 times in the night, and had given her food 
 or wine, although she had been too weary 
 to speak or notice them much ; but it made 
 her heart soften towards Edith when she 
 came to wish her good-bye, and they parted 
 with affection, and yet Laura was well aware 
 that such emotion is but passing, and 
 leaves little mark on life. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 242 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 
 
 A FEW mornings after Mrs. Mathewson and 
 Edith left, Mr. Hilton found amongst his 
 letters a short note from Geoffrey Poland, 
 saying that he was busily trying to find 
 some permanent occupation, and thought 
 he had a fair chance of success, but for 
 the rest full of civil nothings, through 
 which ran a vein of cynicism undetected 
 by the receiver ; but there was a postscript 
 which said simply — ^^ Will you be kind 
 enough to give the inclosed letter to your 
 daughter, juaura." 
 
 Mr. Hilton was considerably perplexed. 
 Should he be right in allowing a corre-
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 243 
 
 spondence between these two, when Poland 
 had given him no assurance that he had 
 any meaning in his attentions V And yet 
 it would be hard on both of them if he 
 put difficulties in their way, when in his 
 own mind he would thoroughly approve 
 of their marriage. His heart was softened 
 towards Laura in these days — since he had 
 so nearly lost her — and ten to one, he 
 thought to himself, she knew much better 
 how to manage her own affairs than he 
 did. 
 
 So after a short hesitation he quietly 
 handed to her both Geoffrey's note and 
 the enclosure, saying — 
 
 '' Poland seems busy just now, and setting 
 to work in earnest. I suppose we shall 
 not see him here again at present." 
 
 ^^No, father, I suppose not," answered 
 Laura, quietly, and went on pouring out 
 tea.
 
 244 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^0, father, do let me see Mr. Poland's 
 letter ! " cried Erica. ^^ I always feel so 
 curious about people's writing." 
 
 ^' Certainly, dear, when Laura has read 
 it, and Miss Verney too may be interested," 
 and Laura hurried tlnrough the note to her 
 father, and passed it on without remark. 
 
 Geoffrey had not said a word about 
 writing to her, and she had scarcely thought 
 of it ; but now, lying close to her hand 
 was a thick letter, sent to her openly, and 
 given by her father without reproof, and 
 her happy days were not yet all over 
 when this was allowed. It was an event 
 for her to have a letter at all; she had 
 no friends, and the family connections 
 always wrote to Edith or Erica, excepting 
 at Christmas or on her bu^thday, when 
 they did not like to leave her out She 
 could not read it in public, for then she 
 would be obliged to speak of it, and although
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 245 
 
 she had no thought of there being anything 
 special in it, she knew that it would be 
 meant for no eyes but her own, and 
 that no one else could understand its 
 meaning. 
 
 It was a recognised thing now that the 
 blue study should be given up entirely to 
 her use, and there she spent the greater 
 part of every day. She knew that Mary 
 had been asked to Blithefield especially to 
 be a companion to Erica, and to make the 
 house pleasanter for her father, so she had 
 no scruple about disposing of her time as 
 she pleased. She took away her letter 
 to enjoy it in solitude, sitting by the open 
 window, in the chair she had always used 
 when Geoffrey was there. It was no love- 
 letter, but it satisfied her fully ; it was 
 tender and sympathetic, it abounded in 
 allusions to their talks together, it hinted 
 at a future of less interrupted intercourse.
 
 246 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 and it seemed to her just the perfection of 
 what she most desired. 
 
 At the end he said, ^^ I hear that some 
 accident or something uncomfortable hap- 
 pened to you the day I left, which delayed 
 your sister's leaving home ; but neither she 
 nor my aunt have vouchsafed an explana- 
 tion, and if not disagreeable to you, I 
 should like you to write and tell me exactly 
 what occurred." 
 
 Laura was surprised that he should have 
 heard so little, but then she knew nothing of 
 a conversation which had passed between 
 her aunt and Edith as they journeyed up 
 to town. 
 
 ^^My dear," said Mrs. Mathewson, ^Hhe 
 less you say to Geoffrey about this foolish 
 business of Laura's the better." 
 
 '' Why, Aunt Sarah ? " asked Edith, who 
 did not at all approve of the light in which 
 her aunt regarded the matter, and fully
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 247 
 
 intended to be a good sister if occasion 
 arose. 
 
 ^' Surely your own sense of propriety 
 should tell you, Edith, that her rushing off 
 like that at the risk of her neck was not 
 becoming to any girl ; and although Geoffrey 
 might for the moment feel flattered at her 
 wishing to catch the last glimpse of him, it 
 would scarcely raise her in his estimation." 
 
 Edith, to whom this view had not occurred 
 before, thought it might be as well to say 
 little about it, especially as she really knew 
 nothing of Mr. Poland's character, and so 
 answered his somewhat anxious inquiries 
 indifferently. 
 
 Laura, in her own mind, shrank from the 
 idea which Geoffrey might get from her 
 aunt or sister of what had occurred, but 
 there was nothing unpleasant in telling him 
 herself; they had agreed together that she 
 should watch for him, and she had seen him
 
 248 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 stop and wave his hat before she left the 
 Look-out. She would like to give him an 
 idea of what had passed through her mind 
 as she lay there alone and helpless all 
 through the long day and night ; of her 
 strange feelings and the new knowledge 
 that had come to her of external things ; how 
 the pheasants had crowed within a yard of 
 her head, how the rabbits had more than 
 once brushed by her hand, and an owl had 
 skimmed closely over her, and small, rustling, 
 unseen creatures had been moving all the 
 night through, excepting in the quiet hc-ur 
 before the dawn, when all the world but she 
 seemed sunk in sleep. Even in the midst 
 of cold and weary discomfort she had some- 
 times for a moment felt glad of her new 
 experience, and now that it was all over she 
 would not for the world have been without 
 it. She had not been frightened; from a 
 child she had no nervous fear of danger or
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 2^:9 
 
 death, life had never been so sweet that she 
 should greatly regret to lose it, and although 
 these last few weeks had taught her that 
 even she might he as happy as the rest, she 
 had not in those lonely hours greatly cared 
 to live. 8he must feel sad and desolate 
 until Geoffrey came back again, and then — 
 but she had been resolute in letting her 
 thoughts go no further. 
 
 Late in the morning, while she still sat 
 at the window with the letter in her lap, her 
 father came to her. 
 
 ** I want to have a word or two with you^ 
 my dear,'* he said, "and I came here because 
 I thought we should the more easily under- 
 stand each other." 
 
 " Yes, father," answered Laura quietly. 
 
 " I wish you to tell me, as a guide to my 
 future conduct towards him, whether Mr. 
 Poland has spoken of any engagement 
 between you." Mr. Hilton had so little
 
 250 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 experience, and still less knowledge, of his 
 daughter's character that he did not know 
 how to put it less abruptly. 
 
 '^ No, father." 
 
 ^' Has he made you understand that he 
 means to speak of it at a convenient time ? " 
 
 Laura's eyes dilated, and her hands 
 clasped each other, but she again answered 
 quietly — 
 
 ^^ He has not said so." 
 
 Mr. Hilton began to be impatient. '^ My 
 dear, I request that you answer me a little 
 more fully. This young man has sought 
 your society so persistently that I could not 
 but expect that he would speak to me on the 
 subject before he left the house, but instead 
 of doing so he only expressed a vague hope 
 of coming again. I wish you to understand 
 that I told him that I should expect to see 
 him, but gave no definite invitation, for I 
 have your welfare to consider, and if he has
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 251 
 
 been trifling with you it is better that you 
 should let me know it." 
 
 ^^ He has not." 
 
 ^' You understand him, then ? " 
 
 '' Yes — I don't know — oh, why do you ask 
 me, father?" cried Laura in great distress, 
 in which, however, there was not a shadow 
 of distrust of Geoffrey, although of course 
 her father could not comprehend it. 
 
 ^^ I believe I am speaking for your good," 
 he said, ^^when I tell you that he will not 
 enter this house again unless I understand 
 the meaning of his coming, nor shall I allow 
 letters to pass between you. I do not ask to 
 see this one, but it must be the last, and 
 I shall myself write and tell him that I 
 cannot allow any correspondence. My dear, 
 we have not been a good father and 
 daughter to each other, but I learned that 
 day when you were missing that you were 
 more to me than I knew before, and I should
 
 252 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 be glad that you should come to me in 
 trouble." 
 
 Laura who had quickly recovered herself, 
 smiled with infinite superiority. '^ I am not 
 in any trouble, father, at least not in the sense 
 you mean. You think I am grieving over 
 Mr. Poland, and that he has disappointed 
 me, but you are quite mistaken. I do grieve 
 over losing his society, for I have no com- 
 panion now, but for nothing else, for I 
 believe him to be the true gentleman he has 
 always shown himself to me." 
 
 Mr. Hilton felt awkward, and as if his 
 well-meant, but rather forced sympathy had 
 been thrown back upon him. "' You mean " 
 
 he began; but Laura interrupted 
 
 him. 
 
 ^'I don't think, father, there is any need 
 for you to ask me what I mean. 1 am 
 satisfied with his conduct, and I cannot 
 answer any questions about him,"
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 253 
 
 '^ You forget that you are speaking to your 
 father, Laura ! " 
 
 She was silent for a moment or two, and 
 then answered : ^^ It is not that I forget, but 
 that I hardly know how I ought to behave 
 to you as my father, for I have seen so little 
 of you. I could almost reckon on my lingers 
 the times that you have sj)oken to me in the 
 last year until Geo^rey came, and then it 
 was to him more than to you that I owed the 
 few words you spoke to me each day before 
 him." 
 
 ^^ Laura!" 
 
 ^^Yes, father, I am afraid you think it 
 wicked that I should sj^eak like this, but 
 remember what a hard life I have had ! It 
 is bitter to a child to be always called 
 naughty; if you had thought about it you 
 would have known that it could not be true, 
 that there must have been faults as great as 
 mine."
 
 254 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Her voice failed her at the remembrance of 
 the years of blame and neglect, which yet she 
 knew were in a great measm-e owing to her 
 own perverse antagonism. 
 
 Her father took a few turns up and down 
 the room in perplexity, and Laura, who 
 hated a scene, and to whom a reconciliation 
 was worse than a quarrel, strained her 
 thoughts for an excuse for leaving him. 
 Geoffrey would have told her to speak a 
 gentle word, she knew, but she would rather 
 have been shut up in her room in disgrace, 
 as in her childhood, than patch up a hollow 
 peace. 
 
 "It is kind of you to say that you wish to 
 help me, father," she said at last, standing 
 at some distance from him, and speaking 
 slowly; "but you see I am in no want of 
 help, and not being accustomed to kindness, 
 I scarcely know how to take it." 
 
 She meant her words to sting a little, but
 
 THE FIRST LETTEE. 255 
 
 was astonished at the extent of their effect 
 when her father, without another word, 
 turned and left the room, leaving her in 
 ignorance of whether he was grieved or 
 angry. 
 
 But at least he had given her plenty to 
 think about. She could not now any longer 
 refuse to consider the question of what 
 Geoffrey's meaning might be. It was 
 evident that she would not be allowed to 
 keep him only as a friend, her father did 
 not understand such friendships. The 
 frank, good-fellowship which he had allowed 
 between Bernard Offord and the girls had 
 been very different, he had been companion 
 to them all until just before leaving for 
 India, when he had fancied himself in love 
 with Adelaide, and she had laughed at 
 him, but there was nothing in Geoffrey's 
 character or behaviour resembling this. In 
 her father's eyes he must be her suitor or
 
 "256 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 nothing ; and although she was satisfied, for 
 she believed that he loved her, she could 
 not say so until he had told her. 
 
 It was cruel to take away from her, 
 without reason, the one pleasure of receiv- 
 ing his letters, for he told her in this first 
 one that he meant to write from time to 
 time ; she was not sure that she should not 
 rebel. She had been left to herself so long 
 that she almost felt a right to her own way, 
 and she believed that when she told Geoffre}^ 
 of her father's objection he would agree 
 with her that it was unreasonable, and need 
 Tiot be altogether binding. It was true that 
 ^ince her accident her father had been kind 
 to her whenever they were together, but it 
 was in his nature to be kind to anything 
 ivhich he fancied weak or suffering, and he 
 had left it to a stranger to discover first that 
 his slighted daughter had something to 
 recommend her after all. No, she could not
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 257 
 
 feel that these few tokens of pity, rather 
 than love, were more than a feather weight 
 in the scale against those long years of 
 neglect and misconception. 
 
 But yet she was sorry, very sorry, that 
 just when it seemed possible that a better 
 understanding was beginning, a more serious 
 difference than had ever before arisen should 
 come between them. 
 
 She could not explain the matter to 
 Geoffrey and ask his advice, but she believed 
 that almost at a word he would understand 
 the state of the case, and whatever he told 
 her she would do, even if he decided that 
 she owed to her father an obedience which 
 she neither regarded as a duty nor wished to 
 show. She understood that she had been 
 forbidden to answer this letter, but this 
 command she should certainly disobey ; 
 Geoffrey should not think her ungrateful or 
 careless, but how she should learn what he 
 
 VOL I. s
 
 258 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 thought of the matter she did not know, for 
 she could not for a moment suppose that 
 her father would allow her to receive another 
 letter from him. It would have been better 
 after all if she had died out there in the 
 long, cold night, instead of coming back 
 again to a life where no one wanted her, 
 excepting the one friend who was forbidden. 
 
 It was a great effort to go down when the 
 luncheon-bell rang, but she scarcely dared 
 to disregard it, and her silence was nothing 
 unusual ; but her surprise was almost over- 
 powering when, as she was leaving the table, 
 again her father called her back, and said 
 quietly, but in a tone of displeasure — 
 
 '' You had better answer the letter which 
 Mr. Poland has written you, Laura, and tell 
 him that I do not approve of any further 
 correspondence. You can put yours into 
 this envelope with mine, which I wish you to 
 read, before you post it, at your leisure.
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 259 
 
 Laura took the letter in silence, and left 
 the room. 
 
 She had no notion what to say, and the 
 unexpected leniency was more difficult to 
 deal with than the sternest rebuke. It 
 cut away the ground under her feet, and 
 she could no longer feel herself a victim of 
 tyranny, when the disobedience she had 
 meditated was turned into a permitted 
 indulgence. 
 
 She went back to the blue study and sat 
 there a long while, seeing nothing of the fair 
 sunny sky and breeze-blown trees through 
 the open window, while the letter lay unopened 
 in her lap. Was it after all her father's 
 duty to refuse her this coveted pleasure ? 
 He had no cause to trust Geoffrey as she 
 did, with all her heart — believing that if 
 he loved her well enough he would before 
 long come back and take her, and if not — 
 well I they could be faithful friends through
 
 260 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 all their lives, if only other people — well- 
 meaning, perhaps — would keep silence and 
 leave them alone. 
 
 She could not write her letter that day, 
 she must take long to think over it, and 
 she shrank a little from seeing what her 
 father had written, and yet her words must 
 be guided by his. She could not pour 
 out her thoughts to her friend if her father 
 had said anything which could lower her in 
 his eyes. Well ! She would read that 
 iirst, and then give her whole mind to 
 pondering over what this one only letter 
 ^he might write should contain. 
 
 " Dear Poland," Mr. Hilton wrote, " I 
 am most glad to hear that your health is 
 entirely restored, and that you have good 
 prospect of occupation, which is so necessary 
 for every one, especially for a man of your 
 age. You may be sure that we shall always 
 hear of you with interest. I have given
 
 THE FIRST LETTER. 2t)l 
 
 your note to my daughter, and desii^ed 
 her to answer it, but I have also told her 
 that I should tell you that I do not approve 
 of further correspondence. We shall hope 
 to hear of your welfare through Mrs. 
 Mathewson. 
 
 ^^ Faithfully yours, 
 
 " Wedgwood Hilton." 
 
 Laura gave a sigh of relief. There was 
 nothing there to wound her, although there 
 was no encouragement to further intercourse, 
 and indeed scarcely a loophole. Then she 
 put on her hat and went out into the 
 sunshine, and wandered up to the Look- 
 out, and sat there gazing out over the 
 fair, wide scene, with almost unconscious 
 eyes mitil the sinking sun warned her to 
 return.
 
 262 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 
 
 Life went on very quietly at Blitliefield 
 in Edith's absence. Mr. Hilton did not 
 care for society when she was not there to 
 take all the trouble of it off his shoulders, 
 and leave him free to see as much or as 
 little of any one as he pleased, and visitors 
 found that although Mary and Erica were 
 pleasant additions when Edith was there, 
 yet without her as the centre the house 
 did not seem at all like itself. 
 
 Laura was desired by her father to take 
 her place at the head of the table, but there 
 her duties began and ended, excepting every 
 now and then, when an invitation was so
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 263 
 
 worded that it could not be accepted without 
 her, and her father insisted on her going 
 with the others. 
 
 Mrs. Paget and Mrs. Bonar ofEered to take 
 it in turns to stay at Blithefield while their 
 sister was away, but Mr. Hilton would not 
 hear of it. It would be at the sacrifice of 
 the comfort of their own homes, and he 
 could not allow it, and ^'thanks to Miss 
 Verney" they could get on very well, and 
 he would not even openly confess in his 
 letters to Edith that he missed hor, although 
 she could see it in every line he wrote. 
 Well, two months was not a very long time, 
 and when the weather was fine he could 
 be out a great deal, and could drive Mary 
 and Erica all over the country with his 
 favourite grays. About a fortnight after 
 Geoffrey Poland's first letter, Mr. Hilton 
 received another one from him, but as it 
 was lying underneath some others on the
 
 264 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 breakfast table lie supposed that none of 
 the girls had seen it, and put it in his 
 pocket to read quietly in his study. 
 
 He was curious to see what it contained, 
 for he could imagine no reason for Greoffrey's 
 writing again, and Edith had told him 
 several times that he neither inquired after 
 any one at Blithefield, nor appeared to take 
 an interest in the home news which she 
 often discussed with Mrs. Mathewson at 
 breakfast time She tried to be a good 
 sister, and considerate friend, and always 
 spoke of Laura when she coidd find 
 occasion, and she was vexed that her father 
 had forbidden the correspondence, and told 
 him so ; but he only smiled to himself as he 
 read and thought — ^' Of course, one girl 
 would stick up for another in a thing like 
 that, and even Edith's wise little head was 
 not quite so strong as her heart." He was 
 rather absent during breakfast time, and
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 265 
 
 cast many glances at Laura, taking but 
 little notice of Erica's chatter, which Mary, 
 seeing that he was preoccupied, tried as 
 far as possible to direct to herself. 
 
 Perhaps, he thought to himself, he had 
 done just the wisest thmg in forbidding 
 them to write, and had hurried on the 
 desirable climax in the most judicious 
 manner ; if so, who could say again that a 
 father did not know how to manage for his 
 girls ? He cut the usual discussion of plans 
 for the day very short, saying that he had 
 letters to attend to just then, and hurrying 
 to his study opened the envelope, which 
 contained a fastened but unaddressed 
 enclosure. 
 
 ^'Dear Sir," Geoffrey wrote, ^^I regret 
 that you should object to an occasional 
 correspondence between your daughter and 
 myself. It would have been a pleasure to 
 both of us, and we have many interests in
 
 266 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 common ; but I must, of course, bow to your 
 
 wishes. I will, however, ask you to do me 
 
 the favour of allowing her to receive this 
 
 one more note which I inclose, giving her 
 
 information on some points which we 
 
 discussed together. If you object to her 
 
 receiving it, I request you to direct it back 
 
 to me, which will save you the trouble 
 
 of writing. 
 
 ^' Yours faithfully, 
 
 ^'Geoffrey Poland." 
 
 Mr. Hilton felt thoroughly angry and 
 perplexed. '^ A bit of confounded impu- 
 dence on Poland's part," he considered 
 this request, and it put him in a 
 most uncomfortable position. After the 
 unpleasant scene which he had had with 
 Laura a few days before, he was anxious 
 to avoid further discussion with her, and 
 yet he considered that his position as her 
 father demanded that this breach of the
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 267 
 
 rule that he had made should not be 
 passed over without remark. Of course 
 the easiest thing for himself would be to 
 send the letter back and say nothing to 
 Laura about it; but this would be hard 
 upon her, and he did not wish to be hard, 
 only to protect her against her own inex- 
 perience and Geoffrey's possible trifling. 
 If ^^ the fellow*' really cared for her he 
 would only put a higher value upon her 
 from having a few difficulties thrown in 
 his way, and if he had any sense he would 
 understand from the words which had 
 passed between them at parting, that 
 when he chose to come again he would 
 be welcome. 
 
 Well ! there seemed only one thing to 
 be done, give Laura her choice of having 
 her letter after he had read it, or of its 
 being sent back unopened, and he could 
 not doubt that she would choose the first
 
 268 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 alternative, for lie had distinctly understood 
 from her that there was no sort of under- 
 standing between them which would entitle 
 Geoffrey to write her a love-letter. He 
 was disappointed, and tried to believe that 
 it was for her sake, but, in truth, the 
 management of this daughter had become 
 too much for him. 
 
 Once more he went to seek her in the 
 blue study. It was a wet chilly morning 
 and although May was almost at an end, 
 he found her sitting by a bright little fire, 
 with books and papers spread out on a 
 table beside her, while her embroidery 
 frame was pushed back into a corner. 
 She rose hastily, gathering her things 
 together in confusion as her father came 
 in, but he was too much occupied with 
 his own thoughts to notice her. 
 
 ' ' Laura, I have heard again from Poland 
 this morning," he said abruptly. She said
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 269 
 
 nothing, but changed colour a little, and 
 waited for him to go on. 
 
 '' He has asked me to give you another 
 note from him, but, of com*se, I cannot do 
 so without reading it, as I told him I did 
 not approve of his writing to you." 
 
 As he spoke he laid the letter on the 
 table. Lam-a was silent for a moment, then 
 she said resolutely — 
 
 "I should very much object to your 
 reading Mr. Poland's letter, father." 
 
 "" I am sorry to hear it, for it proves that 
 they are not suitable for you to receive." 
 
 '^ No, father, it does not prove that, it 
 only shows that he and I have thoughts 
 in which you could not share, and which 
 neither of us would wish to discuss with 
 you." She was trying hard to speak 
 sensibly and temperately, and was sur- 
 prised to find that she had only succeeded 
 in making him angry.
 
 270 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 ^^ I wonder you are not ashamed to 
 confess it to me," he exclaimed. ^^You 
 cannot imagine that I should allow any 
 sort of intercourse if the thoughts which 
 this man puts into your mind or fosters 
 there are not fit to come to my knowledge. 
 I shall certainly read this letter, and 
 
 if " but before he finished speaking, 
 
 Laura snatched it from the table and flung 
 it into the briskly blazing fire, then with 
 a white face she turned round and tried 
 to speak, but words would not come, and 
 she hurried from the room before he could 
 recover from his surprise. 
 
 It was not often that Mr. Hilton used 
 strong language, but a few forcible words 
 were a necessary relief when he found him- 
 self alone, and hot and angry he hastened 
 back to his study and shut the door, with a 
 noisy violence which startled Erica from her 
 practising in the room above.
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 271 
 
 Had any man ever before been cursed 
 with such a daughter? he wondered in his 
 first anger. A daughter with such an 
 abominable temper, such unbounded in- 
 solence, and such ingenuity in making 
 herself odious ? 
 
 All the kindness he had lately felt towards 
 her vanished again in this wrathful moment, 
 and he felt that his only desire was to get 
 rid of her; and yet she had shown him 
 lately, and had brought it home to him, that 
 her faults were due as much to his neglect 
 as to her own failings. Plain, perverse, un- 
 interesting ; truly all these she had been 
 from babyhood ; but it was a terrible, almost 
 an unheard-of, misfortune that neither father 
 nor mother should have been able to love her 
 in spite of it all. A childhood without love ! 
 — it needed, indeed, a sweet and rare nature 
 to pass through it unwarped. But it was 
 too late to repent of all that now, and, at
 
 *272 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 least through all her life, she had had exam- 
 ples before her of unfailing good temper and 
 unbroken affection amongst her sisters, who 
 almost seemed to be made of different flesh 
 and blood from herself. 
 
 It was hard enough at any time for a man 
 to be left with five motherless girls on his 
 hands, but when one of them was possessed 
 with a demon of perversity, the hand of mis- 
 fortune pressed heavily indeed. 
 
 Then, when he had calmed down a little, 
 it was the awkwardness of his own position 
 which struck him most forcibly. What 
 €ould he say to Poland? how account for 
 neither delivering his letter nor sending it 
 back ? He certainly had no wish to adver- 
 tise his daughter's ill-temper by describing 
 exactly what had happened ; for although he 
 would not, of course, wish any man to marry 
 her in ignorance of her faults, it would only 
 be a straining of honesty to allude to such a
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 273 
 
 scene as that just past. How much he wished 
 that Edith was there to talk it over with him, 
 and suggest some means ^^ of getting out of 
 the mess '' with dignity, and without com- 
 promising Lam^a, and still more to soothe 
 the pangs of self-reproach for past neglect 
 which hurt in proportion to their truth ! Well, 
 he must think the matter over, and would do 
 nothing until the next day ; but whatever 
 happened, he would take care not to let 
 Poland think that in any way he had got 
 the better of him. 
 
 Then it suddenly struck him that he would 
 ride over and tell Janet all about it. She 
 was a ** comfortable" daughter in any jDcr- 
 plexity, and although she had never seen 
 Poland, she understood pretty well how the 
 land lay. So he rang the bell and ordered 
 his horse, and then found Mary and Erica in 
 the garden, and told them not to expect him 
 until dinner time, thus doing away with 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 the necessity of encountering his rebellious 
 daughter for some hours. 
 
 Erica had guessed that there was some- 
 thing wrong when she saw her father go up 
 to the blue study, and had afterwards heard 
 the violent shutting of his own door ; but 
 although intensely cuiious, she scarcely dared 
 to ask any questions, feeling sure that the 
 difficulty must be a big one, as he was 
 apparently going to consult over it with 
 Janet. 
 
 ^^1 do wonder what it is, Mary," she said, 
 when he had ridden away.. ^' There was 
 certainly some important letter this morn- 
 ing, and it must be about Mr. Poland, if it 
 is anything to do with Laura." 
 
 ''Yes, very likely; but I think we had 
 better not talk about it, Erica," answered 
 Mary. '' Your father is evidently in anxiety, 
 and perhaps Laura is in trouble ; but I don't 
 think even you are meant to interfere, and
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 275 
 
 we must just try to seem unconscious, and 
 keep the house as bright as we can." 
 
 ^^ Oh, Mary you are so wise and good," 
 sighed Erica; ^^ but you don't understand 
 that dear old father, generally, lets us say 
 and do what we please, and if he had 
 stayed another minute I should have 
 screwed up my courage, and asked him 
 what it was all about." 
 
 '^I am glad you did not, I am sure it 
 would have worried him, and he did not 
 look as if he could bear much more just 
 then. Now let us get as far as the river 
 and back before the luncheon-bell rings." 
 
 Erica felt a little offended, but was too 
 good-tempered to let it last long; but 
 there was a triumphant, " I told you so I " 
 in her look when Stephens brought a 
 message to say that '' Miss Laura was not 
 coming down to luncheon." 
 
 ^^ Poor Laura! I am sorry for her," said
 
 276 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 Mary when they were alone, ^^but I am 
 afraid neither you nor I could do any 
 good by interfering." 
 
 *^Not I, certainly," answered Erica, 
 carelessly. ^^ She would burn or freeze 
 me with a look the moment I went into 
 the room. She is quite sure not to appear 
 this afternoon, so let us drive the ponies over 
 to Adelaide's, and play tennis with Edgar." 
 
 And Mary reluctantly consented, not 
 seeing that she could do any good by 
 staying at home. 
 
 Mr. Hilton on reaching Daisy Lodge 
 felt still more deeply plunged into misfor- 
 tune, when he found that Janet had taken 
 her nurse and children to spend the day 
 with a friend. Captain Bonar was at 
 home, busy amongst his flower beds, but 
 of course the subject could not be men- 
 tioned to him, and after having his 
 luncheon Mr. Hilton resolved to ride on
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 277 
 
 and see Adelaide, whose advice was sure 
 to be sound and good, if not so shrewd 
 as Janet's. But scarcely had he reached 
 the pretty rectory before the pony 
 carriage with Mary and Erica drove up, 
 and his second chance was gone. 
 
 Mr. Paget was out, so there was no 
 tennis to occupy the girls, and as Mr. 
 Hilton was particularly anxious that Erica 
 should know nothing of the matter, he 
 could not suggest that he wished for a 
 private conversation with Adelaide, and 
 could only fall in with Erica's suggestion 
 that as they had driven over alone — which 
 was rather against his rules — he should 
 ride beside the pony carriage and take 
 care of them going home. He tried to 
 forget his troubles, in playing with his 
 little grandsons, with whom he was a great 
 favourite, and had so far succeeded as to 
 be in the middle of telling them a story.
 
 278 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 when Adelaide's question — ^^Why did not 
 Laura come this afternoon?" and Erica's 
 answer : ^^ Oh, she had a headache or 
 something, and did not come down 
 to luncheon " — put all his ideas to 
 flight. 
 
 Erica, too, had looked keenly at him 
 when she spoke, as if she suspected some- 
 thing; and feeling thoroughly put out, he 
 made an excuse of being tired, and had 
 his horse brought round, leaving the girls 
 to follow at their leisure. 
 
 '^ You look worried, father dear," said 
 Adelaide anxiously, when she had followed 
 him to the gate, while the others remained 
 on the lawn, 
 
 '^ Yes, I am in difficulty, Adelaide, and 
 came to speak to you about it, but I have 
 not had a chance. It is about Laura and 
 that fellow, Poland ; but I don't wish Erica 
 to know anything about it."
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 279 
 
 '' Could you not stop and tell me now, 
 father?'' 
 
 '' No, my dear, she would see that there 
 was something wrong, and set her quick 
 wits to find out what it wasj and although 
 Laura has been much to blame, I do not 
 want the whole world to know it. I must 
 just make my way out of it as best I can." 
 
 ^^ Shall I come over to-morrow and see 
 what I can do ? " 
 
 ^^ Yes, I wish you would, but I must lose 
 no time in deciding what line I mean to 
 take ; " and then he rode away, feeling that 
 his attempts to shift his burden a little had 
 been very unsuccessful. 
 
 When he got home he went straight to 
 his study, and found lying on his desk an 
 undirected letter. He opened it in surprise, 
 and found a few lines from Laura, enclosing 
 another sheet. 
 
 '^ Since you went out," she wrote, '^ I have
 
 280 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 written and posted a letter to Mr. Poland, of 
 which I inclose a copy for you to read. I 
 want him to know why I destroyed his 
 letter without knowing a word of its con- 
 tents. 
 
 ^^ Laura." 
 
 These few lines brought Mr. Hilton 
 instant, although only partial, relief. It 
 was an abominable piece of disobedience 
 on her part to write to the fellow again 
 after she had been forbidden, but it removed 
 from him the difficulty of explaining why 
 the letter was neither delivered nor sent 
 back, and although it must make him appear 
 as a tyrant, he did not particularly care for 
 that. It was clearly his duty, although a 
 distasteful one, to read the letter Laura had 
 written, and learn on what footing she 
 had placed herself. It was very short, but 
 it both grieved and angered him : — 
 
 '^ Dear Geoffrey, — My father brought me
 
 THE SECOND LETTER. 281 
 
 a note from you this morning, but he would 
 not allow me to have it without reading it 
 himself first, and to this I could not consent. 
 I believe you will think me right in that ; 
 but I must confess to you that I lost my 
 temper over it and threw the letter unopened 
 into the fire, so I shall never have the least 
 idea of what you had written. You will 
 know that it grieved me. There will be 
 no use in your writing again ; I shall not be 
 allowed to receive a letter from you. I am 
 doing many of the things we talked about, 
 and hope in time to do more. 
 
 '' Your faithful friend, 
 
 ^^ Laura Hilton." 
 
 *^ Poor child ! poor child ! " said her father, 
 when he laid it down ; '^ but I am doing what 
 is right for her against her will, and giving 
 him a chance of proving of what metal he is 
 made."
 
 282 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A TRUCE. 
 
 But although Mr. Hilton felt much pity for 
 his daughter, it was impossible that he could 
 altogether pass over her disobedience and 
 undutifulness. She had saved him from the 
 difficulty of an explanation with Geoffrey, 
 and he felt secretly grateful to her ; but if he 
 allowed her to think that she could take 
 matters into her own hands in this fashion, 
 there was no knowing to what length she 
 might go. Thus he found it absurdly 
 difficult to decide what to say to her. She 
 could no longer be treated like a child, and 
 threatened with punishment, and he had no 
 reason to suppose that a few severe words —
 
 A TRUCE. 283 
 
 which would have made Edith miserable 
 and repentant, and dissolved Erica into 
 tears — would have any effect upon her ; it 
 would need love to give point to the words, 
 and there was little enough of that between 
 them. Of course there was a sort of root 
 of affection for each other in their hearts, 
 from which on special occasions sprang a 
 forced and hasty blossom of emotion, but it 
 scarcely bore the light of common day, and 
 faded and drooped in an hour. 
 
 The whole thing was a horrible nuisance, 
 and he wished that it was consistent with 
 his position to say no more about it ; but it 
 was clearly his duty to watch over his 
 daughter against her will, and he had no 
 intention of shirking it, although by the 
 time the dinner-bell rang he had made up 
 his mind to say nothing until the next 
 morning. 
 
 In the meantime, Laura — although she
 
 284 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 did not repent — was much frightened at what 
 she had done= It was bad enough to have 
 burnt the letter, but to have deliberately 
 disobeyed her father by writing again was, 
 of course, infinitely worse. She did not 
 deserve kindness from him now, she knew 
 that well, but then there were — oh such 
 long arrears of neglect to be paid ! that 
 from her point of view, although, of course, 
 not from his, she felt that she owed him 
 little obedience. 
 
 It was impossible that she should appear 
 before him without his leave, he must be 
 deeply angry with her, and although she 
 could not tell him that she was sorry for 
 what she had done, she could and would 
 show him the respect of acknowledging that 
 she was in disgrace. So when the dinner- 
 bell rang she sent a message to say that she 
 hoped he would excuse her from coming 
 down that evening, and Mr. Hilton took his
 
 A TRUCE. 285 
 
 place at the dinner-table with Maiy and 
 Erica with a considerable lightening of his 
 spirits, feeling relieved an d cheerful. There 
 was a great deal in not having the culprit 
 before his eyes to remind him that he had 
 before him the detestable necessity of finding 
 fault with her again, and the girls, knowing 
 that he had been worried, exerted themselves 
 to amuse him with such good effect that 
 more than half Laura's self-reproach would 
 have vanished if she had seen how completely 
 he seemed to forget her, her faults, and her 
 troubles, while she, stealing out quietly in 
 the dusk, paced up and down the garden 
 paths, thinking what a different world it was 
 to her from that of a year ago, and how 
 far more different it might be if people were 
 allowed to harmlessly shape their lives 
 according to their own pattern. 
 
 Mr. Hilton generally went to his study to 
 smoke after prayers at ten o'clock, but this
 
 286 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 evening Mary and Erica succeeded so well 
 in banishing, for the time, his unpleasant 
 thoughts, that it was nearly eleven before he 
 wished them good night, and he had scarcely 
 had time to settle himself comfortably in 
 front of the fire, when, after a quiet knock, 
 Laura came in, looking pale and tired, and 
 still in her morning dress, and stood at a 
 little distance from him, nervously grasping 
 the back of a chair. 
 
 ^' I have come to ask you whether you 
 intend to forgive me, father?" she said. '^ I 
 supposed you would wish me to keep out 
 of your sight until you gave me leave to 
 do as usual, but uncertainty is so miserable ! 
 And I could not sleep until I had asked 
 you whether you will allow me to come 
 down to breakfast to-morrow ? " 
 
 ^^ Of course! of course!" answered her 
 father, hurriedly, taken uncomfortably by 
 surprise, and not in the least knowing
 
 A TRUCE. 287 
 
 what to say. '^ I never thought of 
 your staying upstairs ; but, of course, 
 you know that it must be understood 
 that this sort of thing will not happen 
 again ? " 
 
 '^ Yes, I suppose so," answered Laura, 
 wearily, ^' but I don't want to deceive you 
 father, and I had better tell you plainly 
 that I cannot make any promises. I think 
 it is quite impossible that we should 
 understand each other, but I will do my 
 best to obey you, only I must tell you 
 that occasions may arise when I shall feel 
 a right to judge for myself.'' 
 
 '^ That is all nonsense! You cannot 
 possibly have a right to put your judgment 
 before mine. But I think you are making 
 yourself out to be a good deal worse than 
 you need. You let your temper get the 
 better of you and acted very wrongly 
 to-day ; but you have confessed your fault,
 
 288 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 and I am willing to forgive it, and say 
 no more about it." 
 
 He felt that he was acting weakly, and 
 scarcely doing his duty by his daughter, 
 at least not that strict duty which had 
 made him interfere about Geo&ey's letters; 
 but he was heartily sick of the whole 
 business, and only too glad of any loophole 
 for escape from further discussion. It was 
 not likely that Poland would presume to 
 write again, or that Laura would volunteer 
 any communication with him ; and as he 
 was far from wishing either of them to 
 think that he should disapprove of Geoffrey 
 as a bond fide suitor, it would probably be 
 wisest to say no more about him until he 
 chose to appear again. 
 
 Laura felt relieved by her father's manner, 
 but yet it jarred upon her that he should 
 seem to treat so lightly now a matter of 
 such importance to her. If he really did
 
 A TRUCE. 289 
 
 not care much about it, why had he 
 interfered at all? She had supposed that 
 he did it from a sense of duty, and she 
 had felt respect for his opinion ; but if he 
 cared so little it could be scarcely more 
 than a caprice, and one that only pushed 
 her to a further distance from him. 
 
 She stood for a minute or two, waiting 
 for him to speak again; and at last he 
 looked up and said with the involuntary 
 sharpness of extreme discomfort — 
 
 '' You need not wait, Laura, unless you 
 have anything more you wish to say." 
 
 And she left him without another word, 
 with tears in her eyes, but hurt and angry, 
 and feeling that the distance between them 
 could hardly be greater than she should 
 wish. 
 
 When Mrs. Paget came the next morning 
 — full of sympathy with her father, and 
 prepared to act as mediator — he felt a 
 
 VOL I. u
 
 290 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 little awkward. He had certainly made too 
 much of the matter the day before, and 
 regretted it now ; and when Adelaide 
 kissed him with effusion, and said sym- 
 pathetically, '^I hope you feel better 
 to-day, dear father ? " he answered, 
 almost impatiently — 
 
 ^' Oh, yes, thank you, my dear; 1 am all 
 right this morning. There is nothing like 
 sleeping over a difficulty, and Laura and I 
 have had a little explanation, and things will 
 go on as usual." 
 
 '^ You do not wish me to speak to her on 
 the subject, then ? " asked Adelaide with some 
 disappointment. She had half hoped that on 
 this occasion Laura might open her heart to 
 her. 
 
 ^^No, I think you had better say nothing 
 about it to any one ; we understand each 
 other pretty well now, and I hope we shall 
 have no more difficulties."
 
 A TRUCE. 291 
 
 So there was nothing for Adelaide to do 
 but to be rather kinder to Laura than usual, 
 and to parry Erica's questions, who, knowing 
 that something was wrong, and that she 
 was being purposely kept in the dark, felt 
 unbounded curiosity. 
 
 '' It was horrid of father, and not a-bit like 
 him!'' she said; ^' but she supposed that, 
 having seen more of Laura lately, he had 
 learned from her to be disagreeable ; " and she 
 was additionally hurt from imagining, what 
 was indeed the truth, that Mary knew a great 
 deal more about it all than she did, for 
 Adelaide felt a necessity for talking to some 
 one, and allowed herself to speak as openly 
 to Mary as she would have done to Edith 
 if she had been at home. 
 
 Although supposed to take little heed of 
 what went on around her, Laura perceived 
 that the household was sitting in judgment 
 upon her, and feeling unable either to ignore
 
 292 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 it or treat it with the contempt that she 
 would have wished, she asked for the use of 
 the pony carriage to drive to Daisy Lodge, 
 and see Janet and the babies. But even 
 then she was not allowed to escape observa- 
 tion altogether, for Morris, who was driving 
 her, pulled up the ponies at a certain point, 
 and said with an air of being sure of interest- 
 ing her — 
 
 ''Beg pardon, miss, but 'twas just here 
 that Mr. Poland stood up and waved his hat 
 that morning you come by your accident. 
 ' Pull up a-bit, Morris,' says he, and I felt 
 put about like, not knowing what he was 
 after, but I s'pose he knew you was there, 
 miss ? " 
 
 '' Yes, Morris," answered Laura, feeling 
 that he did not intend any liberty, and that 
 to deny it would be foolish. 
 
 '' And then he says, 'You can see a good 
 bit of the road from that hill there in tfie
 
 A TRUCE. 293 
 
 Park, can't you?' meaning the Look-out, 
 miss, and I says, ^Yes, sir, you can,' and he 
 sits down, quite contented like, and I never 
 gave it a thought that he meant you was 
 there, miss." 
 
 ^^No, Morris, of course not," answered 
 Laura quietly, and her manner gave no 
 further opening for remarks. 
 
 A few days later Laura handed to her 
 father a letter she had received from Edith, 
 giving a pleasant account of what she was 
 seeing and doing, but with a postscript which 
 was evidently the cause of its being written. 
 '' Mr. Poland has just come in," she said, 
 ^^and has agked me to thank you for your 
 last note, and to say that he thoroughly 
 understands it." 
 
 Mr. Hilton gave back the letter without 
 remark, but with a cordial, '' Thank you, my 
 dear," and a kind smile, which showed 
 Laura that the effort she had made in
 
 294 DOWN THE WAY. 
 
 showing it to him was appreciated; but it 
 was with a heavy sigh that she went back 
 to the blue study, and tried to give her whole 
 attention to books, which she was slowly 
 learning to love, first for Geoffrey's sake, and 
 then for their own. 
 
 END OF VOL. la
 
 Tv 
 
 fi
 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 042061439