L I E) RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 F&29b

 
 BORDERLAND: 
 
 A COUNTRY-TOWN CHRONICLE. 
 
 JESSIE FOTHERGILL, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "the FIRST VIOLIN," " KITH AND KIN," "PROBATION, 
 " THE WELLFIELDS," AND " HEALEY." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, 
 
 ^u&lis]^crs xxi. ©rtjinars to Itr iKajcsts % ^mtv,. 
 
 1886. 
 
 (^All rights reserved.
 
 V. / 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAr.K 
 
 In Childhood . . . . i 
 
 I. Otho's Return . . . ig 
 
 II. Magdalen — and the Neighbourhood 45 
 
 III. Langstroth's Folly . . 66 
 
 ^ IV. The Faculty of Close Observation 85 
 
 ^ V. Gilbert's C.\utiousness . . 102 
 
 VI. Gilbert's "Coup de Theatre" . 113 
 
 VII. Michael, Roger, Gilbert . 142 
 
 VIII. The Firstfruits of the Wisdom of 
 
 ^ Gilbert . . , . 16S 
 
 ^ IX. The Goddess of the Tender Feet 186 
 
 '^ '' X. The Process of Annealing . . 203 
 
 XI. Otho's Letter-bag . . 217 
 
 '-i XII. Eleanor .... 242 
 
 1 
 
 ^ XIII. Twenty-eight and Twenty-two . 265 
 
 XIV. Thrust and Parry . . .27c 
 
 4
 
 BORDERLAND. 
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. 
 
 One summer, which In point of date now 
 lies many years behind us, four boys used 
 to play together, and to quarrel and make 
 it up again with one another — to live 
 together through the long, golden days, 
 that vivid, eager life peculiar to children, 
 in a curious, old-fashioned garden on the 
 bank of the river Tees, and on the Durham 
 side of that stream. The orarden belongfed 
 to a great house, not very old, though it 
 was the abode of an old family, solemn, 
 not to say gloomy, in its dulness and state- 
 liness of appearance, and standing out in 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 2 BORDERLAND. 
 
 rather sombre contrast to the woods which 
 were behind it, and the terraces which 
 sloped down from its front to the river- 
 side. The name of the house was Thors- 
 garth ; many a spot hereabouts bore some 
 name reminiscent of long-past Danish 
 occupation and Scandinavian paganism. 
 It was a characteristic giving a peculiar 
 flavour to the language and nomenclature 
 of the whole country-side, and one, too, 
 which has been sweetly sung by at least 
 one of our English poets. With this fact, 
 these four particular boys were probably 
 unacquainted, and it is more than probable 
 that if they had known all about it they 
 would have cared less than nothing for the 
 circumstance. What could it matter to 
 them that, a little further down the stream, 
 that sweet spot where they loved to wade 
 in the shallows, and not far from which 
 noisy Greta came tumbling and laughing 
 into the arms of sedater Tees — where the 
 numerous wasps' nests were to be found
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. 3 
 
 under the bank, to destroy which nests 
 they had gone through such dehcious toils 
 and perils, and where on sunny days the 
 trout would lurk in the pools amongst the 
 big boulders, — what could it matter to them 
 that this scene had been immortalized by 
 both poet and painter ? To them it was 
 all their own paradise ; the presence of an 
 artist would have vexed and incommoded 
 them. There they kicked, jumped, splashed, 
 and generally misconducted themselves in 
 the sweet solitude and the generous sun- 
 shine of that far-back summer, without a 
 thought of its being hallowed ground. 
 Three of them were not of an age at 
 which the ordinary boy is given to ap- 
 preciate poetry. As for the eldest of them, 
 if he ever did read it, he kept the fact to 
 himself. 
 
 These four boys were all the sons of 
 gentlemen, in the conventional sense of 
 the term — albeit their fathers were men 
 of widely different calibre, as regarded not
 
 4 BORDERLAND. 
 
 only worldly, but also mental and moral 
 characteristics. 
 
 The eldest and the third in age were 
 brothers, Michael and Gilbert Langstroth. 
 Their father's was one of the oldest families 
 In the neighbourhood, and had been one 
 of the richest, although many people had 
 begun to say that not much w^as now prac- 
 tically left to him except the old house 
 itself, the Red Gables, which stood in 
 genial vicinity to many other houses, both 
 great and small, in the great cobble-stoned, 
 slanting square, which formed the west-end 
 of Bradstane town. 
 
 Michael Langstroth at this period was 
 twelve years old, a noble boy to look at, 
 tall and broad, with a dark face, and a 
 sweet, rather rare smile. There was a 
 good deal of unconscious pride in his 
 manner and bearing. Perhaps his piercing 
 gray eyes, going with this dark complexion, 
 might really betoken that Norse descent 
 In which his family gloried. All his actions
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. 5 
 
 were, so far as one could judge, in harmony 
 with his outer appearance ; without fuss 
 or ostentation, but all partaking of the 
 intrinsically splendid, generous, and lavish. 
 Even at this early time of their lives, the 
 other boys knew that Michael hated lies 
 with an intensity which showed itself more 
 in sudden, violent action than in words. 
 They knew that he resented any untruth 
 amongst them as if it had been a personal 
 insult. There was, indeed, no doubt that 
 Michael was a son in whose proud looks 
 a father might glory ; while with all his 
 strength and power there were in him 
 other and quieter charms, such as a mother 
 misfht delio^ht in. And Mrs. Lanofstroth 
 did very greatly delight in what seemed 
 to her her son's high and noble qualities, 
 durino^ the short time that she was allowed 
 to do so. 
 
 " I fear it will never last," she would say 
 to herself, watching him with prayer and 
 trembling, as mothers do watch those sons
 
 b BORDERLAND. 
 
 who have a way of turning into something 
 so different from what the maternal yearn- 
 ings would shap(5 them into if, along with 
 the yearnings, the power existed of fulfill- 
 ing them. " I fear it will never last. 
 Contact with the world will harden him. 
 Flattery will make him vain. Universal 
 homage will spoil him." Mrs. Langstroth 
 was a sweet and saintly lady, and her son 
 Michael a brave and noble boy ; but what 
 insignificant hen-mother exists who does 
 not think that the attention to herself and 
 her matchless offspring must of necessity 
 be universal ? 
 
 With pathetic, devoted blindness she 
 would have prepared him to meet this 
 irresistible tide of flattery and greatness 
 by keeping him fast at her own side, and 
 never loosing his leading strings. The 
 mention of a public school drew tears from 
 her eyes, and set her gentle heart beating 
 wildly. It was written that her son 
 Michael's education — every branch of it —
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. 7 
 
 was to be taken out of her hands, and 
 placed in others, firmer, harder, sterner, 
 and to them who can survive their rough- 
 ness, kinder hands than even those of a 
 mother. 
 
 Gilbert, Michael's brother, was a well- 
 grown boy, too, of ten, with a smaller, 
 rounder head, a narrower forehead, and 
 blue-gray eyes, which had a trick of lan- 
 guishing sometimes. He had an ex- 
 quisitely soft and melancholy voice, was 
 slow of speech, and possessed a graceful, 
 though by no means effeminate figure. 
 He was always, and apparently by nature, 
 courteous and gentle in manner and 
 speech, seldom indulging in the down- 
 right unflattering candour which Michael, 
 for all he was so gentlemanly, frequently 
 used towards his companions. Gilbert 
 never said rude things to any one, but he 
 was not so popular with his comrades as 
 Michael. 
 
 The second boy, in order of years, was
 
 8 BORDERLAND. 
 
 swarthy Roger Camm, the son of the 
 curate of Bradstane. Eleven were the 
 years he counted in actual point of time — 
 thirty, perhaps, and those rough ones, in 
 his knowledge of care and trouble, in his 
 painful, enforced acquaintance with grief, 
 with contrivances and economies, and 
 weary struggles to make both ends meet. 
 For his father was not passing rich on 
 forty pounds a year — he was more than 
 passing poor on something less than a 
 hundred, out of which he had dolefully 
 to ''keep up the appearance of a gentle- 
 man," clothe and feed his son and him- 
 self, and educate the former. His wife, 
 poor soul, exhausted with the endless and 
 complicated calculations necessitated by 
 this ever-present problem, had some years 
 ago thankfully closed her eyes, and said 
 good-bye to labour and grief. The curate 
 and his lad struggled on without her as 
 best they could. All that Roger learnt, 
 whether of solid instruction or flimsy ac-
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. 9 
 
 compllshment — little enough was there of 
 the latter to gloss his manners or appear- 
 ance — he was taught by his father, and 
 that with fasting and prayer. Along with 
 his Latin and Greek declensions, he im- 
 bibed also the more bitter lesson of de- 
 clining fortunes ; for his father had married 
 late, and was not promoted as he grew 
 older and more careworn. Side by side 
 with the first problem of Euclid, as with 
 the last, there was for ever present another, 
 which it would have required more than 
 a mere mathematical head to answer, and 
 which yet imperiously demanded some 
 sort of a solution ; it was the problem 
 which Mrs. Camm had carried with her to 
 her grave, and It ran : '' Given, not suf- 
 ficient income to buy a proper supply of 
 butcher's meat, cakes, and ale, how to make 
 water-porridge twice a day, with skim-milk 
 to wash it down, answer the same purpose 
 as the more liberal diet, save on certain 
 rare and solemn feast-days, not specified
 
 I O BORDERLAND. 
 
 in the calendar." And along with the in- 
 valuable rule, that prepositions govern the 
 objective case (for the Rev. Silas Camm 
 held fast by the Lindley Murray of his 
 boyhood), Roger grasped and held fast 
 the axiom, so that he could and did mould 
 his conduct upon it, that to bear your hard- 
 ships in silence is necessary — that to utter 
 one word of complaint, to look greedily at 
 occasional dainties, or to gorge in un- 
 seemly fashion on the abundance at other 
 men's tables, no matter what the size of 
 the internal void to be filled ; to betray 
 by word, look, or deed that you ever feel 
 the pinch of hunger at home — to do this 
 is disgrace of the deepest dye, second only 
 to lying and stealing. By the time he was 
 eleven years old, Roger had digested these 
 lessons thoroughly, and had, as it were, 
 assimilated them, so that they were in his 
 system. Sometimes, at the abundant 
 '' spreads " on the Thorsgarth or Red 
 Gables boards, his sallow young face would
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. I I 
 
 take a faint glow, his deep-set black eyes 
 would grow wistfully misty, but never a 
 word betrayed the bareness of the board 
 at home, nor the fact that his father might 
 even then be asking a blessing upon a 
 bowl of oatmeal-porridge, sole reward of 
 a hard day's work. For the living of Brad- 
 stane, although ancient, was not rich, and 
 the parish priest's own stipend was not a 
 fat one. Judge, therefore, how exceeding 
 short the curate must have come ! 
 
 Roger was on good terms with all his 
 companions, and If they sometimes won- 
 dered why he never used to ask them to 
 go and play with him, or have tea with 
 him, they were quite satisfied with his ex- 
 planation, that there was no garden to his 
 fathers house, and they agreed with him, 
 that without a garden to play In there 
 could be no fun. He and Michael Lang- 
 stroth, very dissimilar In almost everything, 
 were fast friends, while Gilbert Langstroth 
 and the fourth and last of this party of
 
 1 2 BORDERLAND. 
 
 boys hung together In a lukewarm manner, 
 the older and calmer of them often quietly 
 instigating the mischief that the younger 
 one performed. 
 
 This fourth and youngest was Otho 
 Askam, the only son of the master of 
 Thorsgarth, and heir to the sombre-looking 
 house, and the grand old garden in which 
 they all disported themselves. Otho, like 
 his friends, was tall for his age, and well 
 set-up. One can but guess at the man to 
 come, in the little father of eight years old. 
 But Otho gave strong signs of indivi- 
 duality even at this early age. The other 
 boys, if they had spoken their minds, 
 would have said that he was fitful and 
 moody in temper ; that no one could tell 
 what would please, what offend him ; that, 
 when he was pleased, it was in a saturnine, 
 mirthless style, strange In so young a child ; 
 that when offended, his wrath was more 
 deep than loud, but that his brown eyes 
 glowed, on such occasions, with a dull fire.
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. I 3 
 
 and his childish face in its anger took 
 an expression of savage fierceness. They 
 could also have related, these other boys, 
 that when angry, Otho never rested till 
 he had revenged himself, either by dam- 
 aging or mutilating some of their cherished 
 '' things," or by doing them bodily harm, 
 as grievous as his childish brain and small 
 hands could devise and compass. By the 
 end of the summer they had got used 
 to it. They laughed at him, and talked 
 about his " little rages." They were bigger 
 and stronger than he was. The youngest 
 of them was two years his senior. They 
 used to tease him sometimes, on purpose 
 to have the fun of seeing what shape 
 his vengeance would take, and would 
 shout with laughter at its feebleness when 
 wreaked. 
 
 There was on record one great occasion 
 on which Michael Langstroth had failed 
 to see the amusing side of an escapade 
 of Otho's, and had taken upon himself
 
 14 BORDERLAND. 
 
 to give him a sound hiding (with due 
 regard, that is, to the difference in their 
 ages and strengths). It was sound enough, 
 however, for Master Otho to make the 
 welkin ring again with his yells ; but the 
 thrashing had been administered in pay- 
 ment, with interest, if possible, of Otho's 
 wanton cruelty to a wretched, half-starved 
 cat, which he had pursued with the vin- 
 dictive determination not so much to com- 
 pass its death, as to secure to it as long 
 a term of torture as possible, before that 
 death should take place. 
 
 '' You cowardly little viper, you ! " 
 Michael had shouted, towering over him 
 after the first half of the pummeling had 
 been administered. " Don't you know 
 that it's nothing but a coward, and a dirty 
 one, that hurts things that can't fight back ? 
 You miserable little beggar, you ! " 
 
 ** Michael, I'll kill you, I'll kill you ! I 
 hate you ! I wish the devil would get 
 hold of you. I'll kill you some day for this.
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. I 5 
 
 What do you hit me for? I C3.nt hit you 
 back, you great coward ! " 
 
 At which there was a ofreat laueh from 
 the other boys, none the less hilarious 
 when the big lad, looking scornfully down 
 upon the little one, said — 
 
 " I do it for your good, and you ought 
 to be thankful for it." 
 
 Otho snuffled then, but took an early 
 opportunity of laying a crooked root in an 
 unexpected and obscure spot, over which 
 Michael tripped ignominiously, and nearly 
 barked his shins, when the snuffle became 
 a joyful chuckle. 
 
 Later in the same afternoon, Michael 
 Langstroth found himself apart from the 
 other boys, in a lonely part of the garden, 
 where a broad terrace ended, and rough, 
 uncut grass, dotted with wild plants, began 
 — the top of the river-bank, in fact. The 
 lad seated himself on this bank, under a 
 tree, just out of the broiling sun, and 
 a silence and quietness fell upon him,
 
 1 6 BORDERLAND. 
 
 while he gazed before him into the 
 gurgling, flowing river. It was a pastime 
 he loved. Shadowy, half-formed thoughts 
 passed through his brain at such times, 
 thoughts as vague as the murmur of 
 the river ; intuitions, impulses stirred him, 
 whose nature he did not now understand, 
 but which, for all that, might be not the 
 less blessed and fruitful in years to come, 
 when he should have forgotten these, 
 their first upspringings ; for thus it is, as 
 well as in other ways, that '' the thoughts 
 of youth are long, long thoughts." 
 
 The river was the thing which Michael 
 remembered longer than anything else. 
 When a babe in his nurse's arms he had 
 leaped at its sudden shimmer through the 
 trees, and since then its presence had been 
 ever with him, more or less. It had been 
 his companion and confidant without his 
 knowing it. He went unconsciously to its 
 side to think out his young thoughts, and 
 it carried all his vague meditations gliding
 
 IN CHILDHOOD. I 7 
 
 down its stream as it flowed between the 
 two fair counties of York and Durham. 
 Of course, he was not conscious how 
 potent was its presence in his Hfe ; he 
 would find that out only when he should 
 come to move in other scenes — when he 
 should get men for his companions instead 
 of the stream. 
 
 Little more remains to be said of them 
 at this time, save that the mothers of the 
 Langstroths and of Otho Askam were 
 both living then, young and beautiful 
 women, one of them, at least, wrapped up 
 in her husband and her children. Otho 
 was the only one of the lads who had a 
 sister, the little Eleanor, three years of 
 age, and so much younger than they that 
 she never shared their sports ; and they 
 knew nothing of her, save when they saw 
 her sometimes walking on the upper 
 terrace, led by her nurse or her mother, 
 when she would sometimes stop and look 
 at them with a pair of great candid eyes, 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 iS BORDERLAND. 
 
 and burst into a laugh at some of their 
 antics. A sturdy-looking, not very pretty 
 child, with Otho's complexion, but little 
 of his expression.
 
 ( T9 ) 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OTHO'S RETURN. 
 
 It was a dull morning in October, with a 
 gray sky, low-hanging clouds, and muddy 
 lanes. The Tees Valley Hunt breakfasted 
 that morning at Sir Thomas Winthrop's, 
 and the brothers, Michael and Gilbert 
 Langstroth, rode slowly in company to- 
 wards the house. Michael was now twenty- 
 five, and Gilbert just turned twenty-three. 
 They had ridden and hunted ever since 
 they had been able to stick on the back of 
 a pony, and, despite their changed fortunes 
 — for the house of Lano^stroth was no more 
 a flourishing house — they rode and hunted 
 still. They felt a deeper degree of interest
 
 20 BORDERLAND. 
 
 than usual in this particular breakfast, for 
 it was known to them, as to all the rest of 
 the neighbourhood, that the long-closed 
 doors of Thorsgarth had at last been thrown 
 open ; Otho Askam's minority was over, 
 and he had come, or was on his way, to 
 take possession of the house of his fathers, 
 and the abundant revenues and possessions 
 which had been accumulating for him. It 
 was now several months since he had come 
 of age, but he had not immediately repaired 
 to his home. Now, Otho Askam, Michael 
 and Gilbert Langstroth, and their friend, 
 Roger Camm, had all played together as 
 children in the Thorsgarth garden, had 
 shouted through its avenues, chased each 
 other amongst its discoloured marble fauns 
 and nymphs, and almost succeeded, more 
 than once, in drowning themselves in 
 the waters of swiftly-rushing Tees, who 
 flowed beneath the lowest terrace of the 
 o-arden. That had been more than ten 
 years ago, and many changes had taken
 
 OTHO S RETURN. 2 1 
 
 place since then. The Askam fortunes 
 had accumulated; the deaths of both Mr. 
 and Mrs. Askam had left their children — 
 Otho, and a girl, Eleanor, several years 
 younger than him — under the care of guar- 
 dians, while their property increased. The 
 Langstroths, on the contrary, had gone 
 downhill to a certain extent. Poor then, 
 they had become poorer since, till now, 
 Mr. Langstroth, their father, was a hope- 
 less, helpless invalid ; Michael, the elder, 
 was by way of earning his living as a 
 country doctor, this chance having been 
 given to him by the kindness of the old 
 family friend and adviser, the little Quaker 
 Doctor Rowntree, whose assistant Michael 
 was supposed to be. Gilbert stayed at 
 home, tended his father, and devoted his 
 distinguished arithmetical powers to an 
 endeavour to extricate the family fortunes 
 in some degree from the confusion into 
 which they had fallen. As for Roger 
 Camm, whose father had been the curate
 
 22 BORDERLAND. 
 
 of Bradstane-on Tees, he had vanished 
 for years past from the scenes of his child- 
 hood ; but he and Michael, who had been 
 friends in those former days, were friends 
 still, keeping up a close correspondence. 
 And if Roger by any chance imagined 
 that Gilbert had forgotten him, he was 
 mistaken. Gilbert Langstroth had a long 
 memory. 
 
 It was not only these brothers who 
 looked forward with interest to the possi- 
 bility of young Askam's presence at the 
 meet that morning. All the country-side 
 was more or less agog on the subject. 
 Thorsgarth was a very considerable house ; 
 the Askams were very considerable people 
 in the neighbourhood. Every one was 
 excited ; many fair creatures had gone so 
 far as to say that they were " dying to see 
 him," dying to know what he was like, 
 and if he were going to be an acquisition, 
 or not, to their society. People began to 
 recall things, and to say to one another,
 
 OTHOS RETURN*. 23 
 
 '' Ay, I remember how his mother used to 
 ride to hounds ; what a woman she was ! 
 How handsome, and what a temper ! " 
 And then the voices would sink a little, 
 while for the benefit of some stranger it 
 would be related how the late Mrs. Askam 
 had come to her untimely end ; how she 
 would go out one day, despite her hus- 
 band's expostulations ; how she put her 
 horse at a certain fence, which he refused ; 
 how she flogged him on till he unwil- 
 lingly took the leap, and caught his legs 
 in the top rail, pitching his rider head- 
 foremost off him ; and how Mrs. Askam 
 was carried home with a broken neck. 
 
 Half- forgot ten things like these were 
 talked about. Amongst all the wondering 
 and speculation there was little kindness, 
 little personal feeling. There was no 
 matron who said, '' Ah, his mother and 
 I used to be great friends ; I know I shall 
 like him for her sake." For, as a matter 
 of fact, this reckless young woman, who
 
 24 BORDERLAND. 
 
 had SO untimely died, had not made many 
 friends during the years of her married 
 Hfe in Bradstane. Therefore, every one 
 wondered ; no one really cared what sort 
 of young- man Otho Askam might be. 
 
 Michael and Gilbert rode slowly on 
 through the deep lanes with their tangled 
 hedges (for some of the folk thereabouts 
 were not as particular about their clipping 
 as they might have been) In the damp 
 morning air, and, emerging from the lanes, 
 struck the stony road, with its rough walls, 
 over which they had to travel to arrive at 
 Brigsdale HaH, Sir Thomas's place. They 
 were to look at, as goodly a pair of bre- 
 thren as any in whose company they were 
 likely that day to find themselves. 
 
 "Is Magdalen coming to the meet ? " 
 asked Gilbert suddenly. 
 
 "Yes. She's driving Mrs. Stamer to It. 
 She's staying with Miss Strangforth, and 
 Magdalen doesn't know what on earth to 
 do with her."
 
 OTHO S RETURN. 25 
 
 "Ah ! " said Gilbert, with his sHght, care- 
 less smile. "A meet must be a godsend 
 under such circumstances." And by-and- 
 by he made some further observation, to 
 the effect that it was a picture of a day, 
 and that the scent would be grand, to 
 which Michael assented cheerfully ; and 
 having got that question settled, they rode 
 up to the hospitable door, delivered their 
 horses over to a groom, and were shown 
 into the dinincr-room. 
 
 Sir Thomas and his son Byrom were 
 there, and the room was full of men, old, 
 young, and middle-aged, standing about, 
 waiting till their host should give the 
 signal to be seated. 
 
 It was immediately on going into the 
 room that they saw Otho Askam — for he 
 it must be, and no one else — leaning his 
 elbow on the shelf of an oak sideboard, 
 and listening to some remarks of a neigh- 
 bouring squire. He was at one end of 
 the room as they entered, and they at the
 
 26 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Other ; but It so happened that there was 
 a Httle lane or vista from him to them, so 
 that they saw him very plainly. 
 
 They looked upon a tall yoimg man, 
 as big, as strong, and as broad as them- 
 selves ; and there all resemblance ended. 
 It would have been difficult to say whether 
 that face were young or old for its years. 
 Young Askam had a round, bullet-shaped 
 head, a dark complexion, and one which 
 was also red — a deep, but not yet a coarse 
 red. His forehead, thouQ^h narrow, was 
 not devoid of power. His smooth dark 
 hair was clipped close. He wore a slight 
 moustache, a mere line on his upper lip, 
 save for which his face was hairless, so 
 that the full play of his lips was seen ; 
 and there was something fierce in the 
 expression of those lips ; indeed, the whole 
 face was a strange and fierce one. The 
 dark eyes were sullen ; the brows had a 
 trick of drawing down and together, 
 quickly and savagely, and then the whole
 
 OTHO S RETURN. 2/ 
 
 face flushed, and the mouth tightened, and 
 the fingers closed with a suggestive grip 
 upon whatever might happen to be in 
 them at the moment. It was truly an 
 angry-looking face, devoid of beauty ; and 
 yet, if one came to analyze the features, it 
 would be found impossible to pronounce 
 it a plain face. The voice, the manners, 
 were such as might be expected from the 
 general outward appearance ; that is to say, 
 the voice was abrupt, the sentences curt, 
 and the words often chopped off short in 
 utterance ; the manners were brusque, and 
 had a touch of defiance in them. 
 
 At the moment when the Langstroths 
 entered the room, Otho had his eyes fixed 
 upon his whip, which he was drawing 
 slowly through the fingers of his left hand. 
 He smiled, and the smile showed a set of 
 very white and very strong teeth ; it was 
 not a gracious or a genial expression. 
 Michael Langstroth, looking at him keenly 
 and attentively, said to himself —
 
 2 8 BORDERLAND. 
 
 " Humph ! he is a magnificent animal, 
 at any rate. I wonder if he is anything 
 else. I should not like to pronounce at 
 a venture whether he were a gentleman 
 or a blackguard ; perhaps a bit of both." 
 
 At this juncture, Askam, the curious, 
 sinister smile still on his face, raised his 
 eyes, and encountered those of Michael 
 Langstroth fixed upon him. The smile 
 vanished, the frown descended, above a 
 defiant and inquiring stare. Evidendy he 
 said within himself, " Who is that man ? 
 I ought to know him." 
 
 '' Halloa, Michael," cried the master of 
 the house, at this point, '* good morning to 
 you. I'm glad to see you. How is your 
 father to-day ? " 
 
 As he listened to this, young Askam's 
 frown disappeared, and his look cleared, 
 as if the thing that puzzled him had been 
 made plain. By the time that Michael 
 had done talking to Sir Thomas, Otho 
 was at his side.
 
 OTHO S RETURN. 29 
 
 " I say — I ought to remember you. 
 You are Michael Langstroth, aren't you ? " 
 '' Yes, I am. I was just coming to 
 speak to you. This is my brother Gilbert ; 
 you ought to remember him, too, if you 
 remember me." 
 
 Otho shook hands with them. His 
 countenance was not the best suited for 
 expressing pleasure and geniality, but in 
 a certain saturnine manner he seemed glad 
 to see them both, though he did not say 
 he w^as, but showed it by asking them 
 many questions, with an air of interest — 
 questions as to what they had been doing 
 " all these years." And he stood talking 
 with them, and occasionally with Byrom 
 Winthrop, who joined them, until the voice 
 of Sir Thomas summoned them to ' the 
 table, when, by some means, Otho and 
 Gilbert found themselves seated side by 
 side, and Michael was not very far away 
 . from them. 
 
 Otho Askam betrayed none of the
 
 30 BORDERLAND. 
 
 awkwardness which would have been 
 natural to, and excusable in, a very young 
 man, who suddenly finds himself a person 
 of condition and importance amongst 
 others, much older and much better known 
 than himself. At the same time his 
 manner was utterly destitute of anything 
 like suavity or grace, or of aught that 
 could give a clue as to his real habits or 
 tastes in the matter of society ; none could 
 discover from it whether he most haunted 
 and best loved drawing-rooms, studies, 
 clubs, or stables. 
 
 He appeared to be at his ease, and yet 
 there was nothing easy about him. He 
 did not laugh at all. Michael, who 
 watched him attentively, could not detect 
 anything more mirthful than that peculiar 
 smile which had been on his face when he 
 first saw him ; and it was a smile which 
 might have been called sinister. 
 
 Gilbert and he seemed to keep up 
 an animated conversation, but Michael,
 
 OTHOS RETURN. 3 1 
 
 though near, could not hear, for the hum 
 of talk around him, what they said. He 
 could only feel silently surprised that they 
 had found any subject in common, for 
 Gilbert, when not engaged in calculations, 
 was something of a book-worm, and loved 
 the flavour of a play or an essay, and was 
 well-read in some of our older and less- 
 known dramatists. Michael, thouo^h still 
 uncertain whether Otho were most like a 
 gentleman or a blackguard, had an inner 
 conviction that he was neither literary in 
 his tastes nor yet devoted to accounts. 
 
 Suddenly, in a momentary lull in the 
 talk around him, he heard Otho say — 
 
 " But Dusky Beauty was bred in these 
 parts. I'd take my oath of it." 
 
 *' Of course she was," replied Gilbert, 
 with animation. '' She was bred in old 
 Trueman s stables, over in Friarsdale, out 
 of Blue Blood, by — — " 
 
 Here the words were lost in the hum 
 of renewed talk, and Michael was no less
 
 32 BORDERLAND. 
 
 lost in astonishment. He felt quite feeble 
 and bewildered with surprise. In all the 
 years that he had known his brother, he 
 had never heard him utter a word which 
 could have led any one to suppose that 
 racing or horses, beyond his own solitary 
 hunter and riding-horse, had the faintest 
 or most elementary interest for him. And 
 yet, that was he giving information to 
 Otho Askam (not receiving it from him, 
 Michael reflected with astonishment) as to 
 the immediate pedigree of the winner at 
 one of the Spring meetings. More than 
 once since he had finished his studies and 
 been settled in Bradstane, it had been 
 made manifest to him that Gilbert's 
 character contained complexities which he 
 had not fathomed, and here was another 
 instance — to him the most remarkable of 
 all. With a sense of bewilderment, he 
 finished his breakfast, and when it was 
 over rode forth with the others. 
 
 At the end of the day, towards five
 
 OTHOS RETURN. 33 
 
 in the afternoon, it came to pass that 
 the three former playmates and new 
 acquaintances rode through Bradstane 
 town together. 
 
 '' I say," said Otho — it seemed to be his 
 favourite phrase for opening a sentence — 
 *' I wish you two fellows would look in 
 upon me now and then. I dine at eight, 
 and I am perfectly alone just now. It 
 would be a charity if you would come. I 
 can give you a glass of sherry that isn't 
 so bad, and show you one or two trifles 
 that might interest you, at any rate," and 
 he turned pointedly to Gilbert. 
 
 They thanked him for the invitation. 
 Gilbert promised, unconditionally, to go, 
 and that soon. Michael said he would 
 try ; he would go as soon as he had 
 time. 
 
 ** You see," observed Gilbert, turning to 
 Otho, with a worthy, benevolent air, " his 
 time is not all his own. There's a lady in 
 the case." 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 BORDERLAND. 
 
 *' Oh, indeed ! You are engaged ? " 
 asked Otho. 
 
 -- Yes/' said Michael. 
 
 '' To some one here ? " 
 
 "Yes. To Miss Wynter— Magdalen 
 Wynter. She was at the meet this morn- 
 ing with an elderly lady. I was standing 
 by their carriage for a good while." 
 
 " That exceedingly handsome girl, who 
 drove those white ponies so cleverly ? 
 She had black hair, and a very knowing 
 sort of fur cap," Otho said, looking at 
 Michael with interest. 
 
 Michael smiled slightly. What a curious 
 way in which to describe his beautiful and 
 somewhat unapproachable Magdalen, was 
 the thought in his mind. 
 
 "The same," he answered, "though it 
 would never have occurred to me to 
 describe the cap as ' knowing.' " 
 
 " Oh, wasn't it, though ! " said Otho, 
 emphatically. " Well, I congratulate you. 
 She is exceedingly handsome. There
 
 OTPIOS RETURN. 35 
 
 wasn't another woman there who came 
 anywhere near her. It won't do to be 
 exacting in your case," he went on, with 
 his dubious smile ; " but, all the same, you 
 will be very welcome if you come." 
 
 *' Are you going to live alone ? " Michael 
 asked him. '' Doesn't your sister stay 
 with you ? " 
 
 " My sister — Eleanor — she is at school. 
 I see her sometimes," said Otho, carelessly. 
 " She told me, the last time I called upon 
 her, that she was going to college, and 
 meant to carry off honours, if I didn't." 
 He smiled again, and added, " We part 
 here, I think. Good day. I am glad to 
 have renewed our acquaintance." 
 
 They separated, going their several 
 ways, and the Langstroths rode on in 
 silence for a little time. 
 
 ^'Well," said Michael presently, *' it 
 cannot be said that he has turned out an 
 interesting character." 
 
 *' Opinions differ," was Gilbert's reply.
 
 36 BORDERLAND. 
 
 in a tone which, for him, might be called 
 curt. '' I think he is interesting." 
 
 " Do you ? I should have said you were 
 
 the last By the way, Gilbert, you 
 
 might have knocked me over with your 
 little finger at breakfast this morning 
 when I heard you talking about Dusky 
 Beauty and her pedigree. I didn't know 
 you knew one race-horse from another." 
 
 ''Well, I am quite certain you don't," 
 said Gilbert, with less than his usual 
 suavity ; " and it is my principle not to try 
 and entertain people by conversation about 
 things in which they don't take the slightest 
 interest. Otho Askam, there, does know 
 one race-horse from another." 
 
 '' What, is he horsey, then ? Is that his 
 little failing ? " 
 
 '* He is horsey — I don't know how much, 
 yet," said Gilbert, with his gentle gravity. 
 *' That's what I have got to find out, and 
 it is what I mean to find out. I shall give 
 him the pleasure of my company on an
 
 OTHOS RETURN. 37 
 
 early day. You can please yourself when 
 you go. Here we are." 
 
 After Otho Askam's arrival, which was, 
 as it were, made public by this appearance 
 amongst the gentlemen of his county, he 
 and his sayings and doings furnished end- 
 less topics for the gossips of the neigh- 
 bourhood. It was, of course, only by 
 degrees that public opinion about him took 
 a definite shape, but the process of collect- 
 ing data on which to form one's opinion 
 of a person s character is to many persons 
 an even more delightful employment, and 
 more enjoyable, than the frequent utterance 
 of that opinion when found ; though this, of 
 course, must possess the higher quality 
 of benefiting and instructing those who 
 hear it. 
 
 The Bradstane neighbours — people in 
 districts like that are neighbours if they 
 do not live more than ten miles apart — 
 abandoned themselves at first with joy and 
 satisfaction, and a keenly pleasurable sense
 
 38 BORDERLAND. 
 
 of having found a new interest, to this first 
 branch of the business — the collecting of 
 data. Women asked their men — and de- 
 clined to be put off with mere vague, 
 general statements in reply — what they 
 thought of Otho Askam ; and men said 
 things to each other about him, and 
 laughed, or nodded, or shrugged, as the 
 case might be. 
 
 The first interest gradually but surely 
 turned into disappointment. People in 
 general discovered, or felt that they had 
 discovered, that Otho Askam was a de- 
 cidedly horsey, slangy young fellow. It 
 was soon made manifest that he had a 
 powerful distaste for general society, as 
 found in the country, with its dinners, 
 dances, and lunches. Then again it was 
 said — by whom no one could exactly tell 
 — that he was full of whims and humours 
 and oddities without end — not pleasant 
 oddities ; was very lavish of his money on 
 one day, and very stingy wnth it on the
 
 OTHO S RETURN. 39 
 
 next ; had a most moody and uncertain 
 temper, which sometimes would run into 
 fierce, white-hot passions, with Httle or no 
 cause for them, or, again, into sullen silence, 
 more difficult than the fury to understand 
 or combat. 
 
 There was one group of facts eagerly 
 seized upon by the scandalmongers, and 
 even by those who were not scandalmon- 
 gers, of the vicinity. The matrons and 
 the maids around were alike grieved that 
 a young man so richly endowed with every 
 external advantage should prove so very 
 ungentle, unpromising a character ; that he 
 should set at nought their customs, despise 
 their burnt-offerings, and openly neglect 
 their galas and festivities. That alone 
 would have pained the matrons and the 
 maids ; but that was not all. There was a 
 thorn more galling still, which he contrived 
 to plant in their sides, so as to wound 
 them shrewdly. After he had been at 
 home a few months, it became universally
 
 40 BORDERLAND. 
 
 known that there was one house in the 
 neighbourhood at which he visited often, 
 indeed, constantly, and that one the last 
 which w^ould have been expected to attract 
 him — at Balder Hall, namely, where old 
 Miss Strangforth lived with her niece, who 
 had for more than two years been engaged 
 to Michael Langstroth. Magdalen Wynter 
 had never been a favourite among the 
 women of the country-side ; she was ex- 
 ceedingly beautiful, and did nothing to 
 conciliate them ; she was penniless, and 
 treated them as if they were beneath 
 her. That winter she became less popular 
 than ever, and the secret thought in many 
 a virgin bosom was, '* Greedy wretch ! 
 Could she not have been satisfied with 
 one : 
 
 This attachment to Balder Hall, and 
 the innumerable times that his horse and 
 he were reported to have been seen 
 travelling over the road thither, was the 
 canker which vexed the hearts of the
 
 OTHOS RETURN. 4I 
 
 womankind. A good many of the young 
 men began presently to say that Otho was 
 so cross in his temper that the only way 
 to get on with him was to let him alone as 
 much as possible ; and, by-and-by, prudent 
 fathers, however much they might have 
 approved of him as a husband for one 
 of their spotless daughters, began to think 
 it was as well that their sons should not 
 have too much to do with him. Nothing 
 tangible had been alleged against him 
 during those months ; nothing actively 
 bad ; but, on the other hand, there was 
 nothing good. In any of the staider pur- 
 suits of a country gentleman of his stand- 
 ing, politics, county business, public affairs 
 of any kind, he took not the faintest or 
 most elementary interest ; nay, he had 
 been known, when occasion offered, to ex- 
 press a rough kind of contempt for them, 
 and for those w^ho troubled themselves 
 with them. Altogether, Otho Askam, 
 who had been a orood deal looked forward
 
 42 BORDERLAND. 
 
 to as the coming man, created much dis- 
 appointment now that he had come. 
 
 The last fact which formed food for 
 gossip and wonderment was, that that 
 gentlemanly, well-bred youth, Gilbert 
 Langstroth, against whom scandal had 
 never raised so much as a whisper, who 
 was known to be good — look at the way 
 in which he devoted himself to his failing 
 father — and was said, by those who knew 
 him, to be as clever as he was good — this 
 paragon amongst sons and young men 
 became the chosen friend and associate 
 of Otho Askam, almost from the day 
 of his arrival in Bradstane. Gossip ex- 
 hausted itself in trying to find reasons for 
 this alliance ; in discovering points of re- 
 semblance between two such diverse cha- 
 racters, points which might account for the 
 intimacy which had sprung up between 
 them. Gossip spent her breath in vain. 
 Undisturbed, and unheeding what was 
 said about them, the young men remained
 
 OTHOS RETURN. 43 
 
 and continued to be friends, and friends 
 who were almost inseparable. The 
 neighbourhood presently discovered that 
 to stand perpetually with a gape on one's 
 mouth is undignified, so it presently ceased 
 to gape, shrugged its shoulders, and said, 
 " Well, if I were Pvlr. Langstroth, I should 
 not like my son to form such an intimacy." 
 
 The neighbourhood could not possibly 
 have been more surprised than was 
 Gilbert's brother, Michael, though he kept 
 his surprise to himself, and naturally did 
 not hear very much of that felt by 
 other persons. He had often chaffed 
 Gilbert about his having no friends ; ac- 
 quaintances in plenty, but no chum, as the 
 absent Ro^er Camm was Michael's own 
 chum. Gilbert had always replied — 
 
 *' Wait a bit. Every one does not suit 
 me for a friend. When I do find one, I'll 
 stick to him." 
 
 And then Otho Askam came. Gilbert 
 appeared to have found the combination
 
 44 BORDERLAND. 
 
 of qualities he wished for in a friend, and 
 his words were fulfilled. He ''stuck to him." 
 
 The intimacy went on for more than 
 a year, during which time the tranquil, 
 gentle countenance of Gilbert Langstroth, 
 with its slight, tolerant smile, was to be 
 seen oftener than not side by side with 
 the strange, fierce face of Otho Askam, 
 with its breathless expression. " He 
 looks," said a girl to Michael once, ' " as 
 if he were always hunting something, and 
 meant to kill it when he caught it." 
 
 It was undoubtedly a bizarre alliance, 
 but at the end of a year people had, in 
 a measure, got to accept it, and it was an 
 understood thing that its effect upon 
 Gilbert was one which he was quite able 
 to sustain with impunity ; in other words, 
 that, whatever might be the case with 
 Otho Askam, Gilbert Langstroth con- 
 tinued to be a respectable member of 
 society, and was not even thinking of 
 going to the bad.
 
 ( 45 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 
 
 Otho's arrival had been in the early part 
 of October. The intimacy between him 
 and Gilbert gradually increased, and the 
 visits of the friends were not by any means 
 confined to one party of the alliance. 
 Otho was found as often seated in an old 
 armchair in some one of the now faded 
 and shabby rooms of the Red Gables, as 
 Gilbert was in the statelier and better pre- 
 served apartments of Thorsgarth. Gilbert 
 and his father lived alone together. They 
 had so lived ever since Michael, having 
 finished his medical studies, had come back 
 and been made Doctor Rowntree's assis- 
 tant. Mr. Langstroth was one of those
 
 46 BORDERLAND. 
 
 men who undoubtedly exist, who, by some 
 means not to be accounted for by any 
 personal charm or fascination, always have 
 either a devoted wife or a friend who 
 seems willing, nay, eager to give of his 
 strength in order to make up for their 
 weaknesses. So long as his wife had been 
 living, Mr. Langstroth had had a prop. 
 After her death, her place, as prop, had been 
 taken by Dr. Rowntree, an old '* friend 
 of the family," whose yellow-washed house, 
 with its green door and brass knocker, 
 stood almost opposite the Red Gables, on 
 the other side of the broad old square 
 which formed the west end of Bradstane 
 town. Doctor Rowntree had indeed been 
 one of those friends who stick closer than a 
 brother, who get little and give much, and 
 who seem quite satisfied so long as they 
 may go on giving, and get an occasional 
 word significative of trust or appreciation. 
 Sometimes it seems as if they could exist 
 without even so much aliment for their
 
 MAGDALEN — AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 47 
 
 regard. It was at his instigation and by 
 his advice that Michael had adopted the 
 medical profession as his calling in life. 
 Something had to be done ; their fortunes 
 no longer permitted idleness on the part 
 even of the eldest son of the house. 
 Michael was utterly disinclined for the 
 church, and his father for the expense of 
 preparing him to enter it. For *' doc- 
 toring," as they roughly and ignorantly 
 called the healing art, he had always shown 
 a liking ; and, as most of his spare time had 
 always been spent at the little Quaker 
 doctor s house, it was considered that he 
 had had ample opportunities of judging 
 whether this calling would suit him or not. 
 He had elected to follow it, greatly to the 
 jubilation of his old friend, and, having 
 finished his student life, it had been de- 
 cided that it would be to the comfort and 
 vantage of all if he were to take up his 
 quarters with Dr. Rovvntree, instead of 
 remaining at home.
 
 48 BORDERLAND. 
 
 '' You won't really be separated from 
 them, you know," said the doctor ; " and, 
 being on the premises, you'll get so much 
 better broken in to it." 
 
 Mr. Langstroth agreed. In his heart 
 he despised the doctors calling, and was 
 angry and ashamed that a son of his 
 should have to live by it ; but, like many 
 another before him, he took the benefits 
 that he hated, and was satisfied so long 
 as they were not put before him too pro- 
 minently. He would have been best satis- 
 fied if Michael could have followed his 
 " trade," as the elder man contemptuously 
 called it, away from Bradstane and his 
 nobility ; but the advantages of the present 
 arrangement were too great and too 
 obvious to be thrown away ; there were no 
 premiums to pay, nd struggle to make. 
 So Michael lived with Dr. Rowntree, and 
 began to make himself acquainted with 
 the far from easy life of a country doctor. 
 His temper was sweet, and his spirit
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 49 
 
 beyond all Idea of shame in his position, 
 or complaint at having to work. He said 
 little, but went to work with a will. 
 
 Gilbert had all along, and as it were 
 by a sort of tacit consent of all parties, 
 remained at home with his father, who was 
 now a querulous invalid with a heart-com- 
 plaint. Incidentally, too, as has been said, 
 he devoted a good deal of his time and 
 mind to the contemplation and mxanipula- 
 tion of their affairs, family and financial. 
 While Michael had been studying in 
 London, letters had now and then come to 
 him from Gilbert, suggesting that it was 
 advisable to sell this or that farm, this 
 or that lot of timber in the woods which 
 still belonged to them. To do so would 
 lessen their debts by so much, would ease 
 their father's mind, and increase their 
 income by diminishing the amount they 
 annually had to pay away in Interest. To 
 all and each of which propositions, Michael 
 had been in the habit of yielding unquaii- 
 
 VOL. I. . 4
 
 CO BORDERLAND. 
 
 fied assent, saying that he thought it very 
 good of Gilbert to sit boring his eyes out 
 over accounts, in the days of his youth. 
 He might as well have congratulated an 
 old spider on weaving webs so skilfully, or 
 complimented a shark on his kindness in 
 following that which he best loved — prey, 
 namely, or, in short, have thanked any 
 person warmly for being so disinterested 
 as to find pleasure in following his natural 
 bent. Michael was very young, and hated 
 all such tasks as those in which Gilbert 
 passed his time. He might have had 
 Gilbert's office, and Gilbert his, had he so 
 chosen ; the option had been given him ; 
 but he did not so chose, and it always 
 seemed to him that his best thanks were 
 due to his brother for industriously doing 
 that which he would have so hated to do 
 himself. Interested in his studies, and 
 seeing a good deal of society, in which he 
 was popular, by reason of his good looks, 
 good birth, and entire absence of selfish-
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 5 I 
 
 ness or self-consciousness, Michael often 
 thought what a good old man Gilbert was, 
 and what thanks he, Michael, would owe 
 him, for this sacrificing the days of his 
 youth to an invalid father and a com- 
 plicated account-book, in a quiet little 
 country town at the world's end. 
 
 It certainly was a very quiet little town, 
 as It Is now, and probably always has been. 
 
 "Castle Bradstane," says an old chron- 
 icler, ''standeth stately upon Tese." At 
 the time of which he wrote, he probably 
 literally meant the castle, the grim brown 
 pile which stood on the Durham side of 
 the stream, cunningly planted just at an 
 outward sweep of one of its many curves. 
 Gradually It had fallen Into decay ; other 
 houses and a small town had gathered 
 about Its feet. Ivy and other creepers 
 and climbers now cluno; about its fierce 
 old towers. Wallflowers, ragwort, and 
 the Ivy-leaved snapdragon peeped and 
 nodded In at the narrow little slits of 
 
 RaRY 
 DIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 52 BORDERLAND. 
 
 windows; kindly Nature did all in her power 
 to beautify what had been so cruel and so 
 hideous, till now the grim old fastness sat 
 harmless aloft, and the river rushed and 
 murmured far below, as of yore. 
 
 Any one who choses, may learn how 
 Walter Scott, with the seer's eye of genius, 
 pictured Bradstane Castle, and the pros- 
 pects which from its '' watch-tower high 
 gleamed gradual on the warder's eye ; " 
 and to this day, the prospect upon which 
 it looks is little changed. Though the 
 stream sweeps by beneath it, laden with 
 the tale of several centuries more, their 
 woe and bloodshed, erief and traeic 
 story, yet the outlines of the land itself, 
 the woods, the hills, must be similar to 
 what they were when old Leland, looking 
 upon it, recorded, " Castle Bradstane 
 standeth stately upon Tese." The in- 
 habitants, who gradually built houses, and 
 clustered about the old pile and beyond 
 it, to the east, had been, taken all in all,
 
 MAGDALEN — AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 53 
 
 a wild race of people, a border race. To 
 this day they are bold, sturdy, and indepen- 
 dent. Strange tales are sometimes told of 
 the old families of the vicinity, gentle and 
 simple — tales in which both gentleness and 
 simplicity are conspicuous by their absence. 
 Great cities have their great sins, their 
 great faults, wrongs, and iniquities ; and we 
 are very much in the habit of speaking in 
 condemnatory terms of them, and of laud- 
 ing the beauties of the country, and the 
 simpleness and gentleness, and, above 
 all, the naturalness and absence of preten- 
 sion in the life there. And, certainly, city 
 life, carried to excess, has in it a morbid 
 feverishness and unrest which is no true 
 life. But in country life, when it is lived 
 in out-of-the-way spots — moorland farms, 
 secluded dales, places far from railways 
 and traffic — there is often a certain 
 morbidness, as well as in the life of a town. 
 The very solitude and loneliness tend to 
 foster and bring out any peculiarities, any
 
 54 BORDERLAND. 
 
 morbid characteristics, and to confirm and 
 strengthen eccentricities and idiosyncracies. 
 One of the good things that much-abused 
 progress will do in time, will be to sweep 
 away some of these ugly old country 
 habits of indolence and cloddishness, and 
 selfish, soulless sensuality, which still exist, 
 and that sometimes amidst the sweetest 
 and most exquisite natural surroundings. 
 
 At this later time of which I write, 
 Bradstane was more the abode of con- 
 firmed Philistinism than of anything else. 
 There were a few wealthy and well-born 
 families, who possessed seats in the neigh- 
 bourhood — Halls, Parks, Courts, Houses — 
 and who shut themselves up in them, and 
 led their own lives, on no evil terms with 
 the shopkeepers and dissenters of the 
 village itself, but quite apart and distinct 
 from them. The only one of these houses 
 which stood within the precincts of the 
 town was the Red Gables, Mr. Lang- 
 stroth's dwelling-place. It was a large old
 
 MAGDALEN — AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 55 
 
 house, rlsinor- stralofht out of the street. 
 The land that belonged to it consisted 
 chiefly of farms in the vicinity, and some 
 woods, more distant still. 
 
 Further out, at a fine old place higher 
 up the river, situated like Thorsgarth, on 
 one of its many " reaches," and called 
 Balder Hall, lived an old maiden lady. 
 Miss Martha Strangforth, at whose death, 
 which, said wise report, could not be very 
 far off, seeing that she was older than the 
 century, and a martyr to rheumatic gout, 
 her estate and fortune would pass to a 
 nephew of the same name. Four years 
 ago had come to live with her an orphan 
 grand-niece, one Magdalen Wynter by 
 name ; a cold, handsome, self-contained 
 girl of eighteen, who made no friends, 
 and was seldom seen walking outside her 
 aunt's grounds, but who sometimes passed 
 through Bradstane town, driving in one of 
 the Balder Hall carriages, dressed with a 
 perfection of simple elegance which the
 
 ^6 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Philistine Inhabitants called '' plainness," 
 and looking as If, for aught they could say 
 to the contrary, all the world belonged to 
 her. Sometimes she stopped at one of 
 the shops, and then she was treated with 
 respect, as the niece of rich old Miss 
 Strangforth. On these occasions, she was 
 wont to give very clear, concise orders. In 
 a very clear, decided voice, low and gentle, 
 but too monotonous to be called musical. 
 Her beautiful young face was seldom, if 
 ever, seen to smile ; and yet, one could 
 hardly have said that she looked unhappy, 
 though she might have been accused of 
 appearing Indifferent. 
 
 Once, some few weeks after her arrival, 
 stopping at the stationer's and bookseller's 
 shop kept by Mr. Dixon, In the main 
 street of the town, the footman opened 
 the door, and she got out and went into 
 the shop. Mrs. Dixon came forward to 
 attend to her wants, and was followed by 
 a pretty little girl of some ten years old,
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 57 
 
 a child with a delicate skin, small, oval face, 
 straight little nose, brown hair and eyes — 
 all very neat and clear, and clean and pretty. 
 She hid rather shyly behind her mother. 
 
 *' Is that your child ? " asked Miss 
 Wynter, pointing with her parasol at the 
 girl. 
 
 " Yes, miss, this is Ada, our only one." 
 *' Oh, indeed ! How old is she ? " 
 *' Ten, was a month last Sunday." 
 '* Ah, she is a pretty little creature. 
 Does she go to school ? " 
 
 '* Yes, miss ; but it's her holiday-time 
 now." 
 
 " I wish you'd let her come home with 
 me, and I'll show her some pretty things. 
 I am very lonely." 
 
 The last words were spoken in the 
 quiet, uninterested tone in which one says, 
 " What a dull day it is ! " as if they hardly 
 referred to herself, but to something out- 
 side her. 
 
 " Oh yes, miss, she may go. I'm sure
 
 58 BORDERLAND. 
 
 it's very good of you. But I fear she'll be 
 a trouble to you." 
 
 " Not at all, or I should not have asked 
 her. Would you like to come with me, 
 little Ada?" asked Miss Wynter, turning 
 to the child neither coldly nor unkindly, 
 but with no change of expression at all — 
 no lighting up of her soft, dark, quiet eyes ; 
 not the ghost of a smile upon her tranquil 
 sculptured lips. 
 
 At first, Ada hung back ; and her 
 mother began to expostulate with her, 
 saying how good it was of the lady to 
 invite her to go with her. 
 
 The lady, in the same soft and gentle 
 tone, remarked presently — 
 
 " Oh, she won't understand that, of 
 course. If you will come with me, Ada, I 
 will give you a pretty necklace, and a 
 ribbon." 
 
 At this prospect, all hesitation fled. 
 Ada submitted at once to be made ready, 
 Mrs. Dixon remarking admiringly —
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 59 
 
 '* Eh, but you have found the right road 
 to her heart, miss, and that cleverly." 
 
 " I will sit here, and wait till she is 
 ready. Don't put on her best frock, or 
 anything of that kind, you know. She 
 will do just as she is." 
 
 Miss Wynter furthermore promised to 
 restore Ada to her home and friends later 
 in the evening, but Mrs. Dixon said she 
 had to send her servant to the Balder Hall 
 farm for butter, and she should call for 
 the little orirl and brincr her back. Ada 
 
 o o 
 
 was perched in the carriage beside Miss 
 Wynter, in which position she was seen of 
 sundry comrades as she drove away. 
 
 They called to her ; asked her where 
 she was going, and cried — 
 
 *' Eh, but, Ada, what a grand lady you 
 are, to be sure ! " 
 
 Ada took no manner of notice of them, 
 but looked straight before her. 
 
 " Why do you not kiss your hand to 
 your friends, and say good-bye to them ? "
 
 6o BORDERLAND. 
 
 asked Magdalen, turning indifferently, as 
 she lay back, also indifferently, and looked 
 with languid curiosity at the little flushed 
 face and small figure, bristling with Im- 
 portance, beside her. 
 
 "'Cause I'm a young lady, and they are 
 little common village girls," was the reply, 
 so unexpected, that even Miss Wynter's 
 eyes were opened wide, and her eyebrows 
 were raised, as she heard it. 
 
 '' Indeed ? " she said. '' And do you 
 think you are really a young lady ? " 
 
 " Not like you, yet," was the reply, 
 '' because I'm not old enough ; but I shall 
 be sometime. Mamma says I'm so pretty 
 I shall be sure to marry a gentleman ; and 
 I'm g-omo; to learn French and music." 
 
 ''Oh, Indeed!" drawled Magdalen. 
 " You are going to marry a gentleman. 
 What Is a gentleman ? Did your mother 
 tell you that, too ? " 
 
 "She didn't tell me, but I know," 
 replied Ada.
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 6 I 
 
 "Well, suppose you tell me. Then 
 I shall know, too." 
 
 " A gentleman Is rich, and has a large 
 house, and " 
 
 '' Does a gentleman keep a shop ? " 
 
 - No." 
 
 " Then what Is your father ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know." 
 
 Magdalen proceeded. In a languid, in- 
 different way, to draw her out. In a very 
 short time she had gauged the depths, 
 or rather the shallows, of Ada Dixon's 
 mind. It contained nothing but shallows 
 then ; it was destined never to contain any- 
 thing else, henceforth and for evermore. 
 
 From that day she was more or less 
 Miss Wynter's pi^otegde and plaything. 
 Sometimes the connection flagged ; some- 
 times when the winter weather was bitter, 
 or the summer heats overpowering, when 
 Miss Wynter was indolent, and when Ada 
 was promoted to a boarding-school, there 
 were gaps in the intercourse ; but the
 
 62 BORDERLAND. 
 
 acquaintance was never broken off, and it 
 was not without its influence in both lives, 
 and on more destinies than theirs alone. 
 
 The Dixons were well-to-do, prosperous, 
 conventional tradespeople, more retail than 
 wholesale in every sense of the words. 
 He had grown fat by charging sixpence 
 where other people charged fivepence, by 
 a consistent practice of telling many lies 
 during the week, and diligently repenting 
 him of his transgressions and bewailing 
 his sins tvv^ice every Sunday in the parish 
 church. That is, he bewailed his sins with 
 his mouth, and whenever bewailing hap- 
 pened to be printed in the Prayer-book ; 
 but he knew much better than the Prayer- 
 book what was the way in which to get 
 on in the world, and perhaps, if he had 
 spoken out his whole mind, cleanly and 
 honestly, would have said that since the 
 Lord, by putting so much competition 
 into the world, had made it such a hard 
 business for folk to hold their heads above
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 6 
 
 J 
 
 water, He must even excuse them from, 
 doing it in the best way they could. 
 
 Mrs. Dixon, Hke a faithful and loyal 
 wife, had aided and abetted him in his 
 praiseworthy efforts to get on in the world. 
 They had succeeded in their aim, and were 
 respected and looked up to by all who 
 knew them. He w^as vicar's warden, an 
 overseer of the poor, one of the best- 
 known men in public and parochial affairs 
 in all the district. He could afford to 
 send his daughter to school ; to keep her 
 out of the shop ; to dress her " stylishly," 
 as they called it ; to give her a piano, and 
 buy pieces of music for her to play upon 
 it ; and all these things he did with a good 
 grace, and looked to Ada to form an 
 alliance which should be to the credit of 
 the family and her own glory. 
 
 There were other well-to-do tradesmen 
 in Bradstane, and many who were but 
 ill-to-do. There was the lawyer, Mr. 
 Coningsby, who lived not far away from
 
 64 BORDERLAND. 
 
 the Lano^stroths ; there was Doctor Rown- 
 tree ; there was the vicar, Mr. Johnson, 
 with Mrs. Johnson, his wife, and their 
 numerous progeny. They Hved in an 
 old brown house, in a kind of close, near 
 the church, with a walled garden con- 
 taining apricot and plum trees. Other 
 religious bodies were represented by two 
 dissenting ministers and their flocks, and 
 by a Friends' Meeting, the head and front 
 of which was Doctor Rowntree. 
 
 These denominations, of course, had 
 churches and chapels in which they wor- 
 shipped. There were some curious old 
 houses in the main street, and there was 
 a long and unlovely thoroughfare called 
 Bridge Street, more like a slum than any- 
 thing else, where the women were pale, 
 and the children stunted, and the inhabi- 
 tants of which, taken all in all, did not 
 enjoy the best of reputations. One side of 
 this street was built to the river-bank over- 
 hanging the stream ; and in the spring and
 
 MAGDALEN AND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. 65 
 
 autumn, or when thunderstorms prevailed, 
 the lower rooms of those houses would be 
 flooded. Going along Bridge Street, one 
 did not guess how near the river one 
 was, till one came upon an opening here 
 and there — a gully, or a tunnel, or a- 
 narrow, dark passage— and looking down 
 it, one could see the rushing brown 
 waters flowing ceaselessly on, without 
 haste and without rest, from the fastnesses 
 whence they had sprung — 
 
 " Where Tees in tumult leaves his source, 
 Thundering o'er Cauldron and High Force." 
 
 Such was, superficially, the outward as- 
 pect of Bradstane town, when Otho Askam 
 and the two Langstroths met after their 
 many years' separation ; such it had been 
 for years back. It was not what is called 
 " a orrowinof town," and whatever drama 
 might be played within its precincts, its 
 exterior, objective side, was not likely to 
 change very much. 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 BORDERLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER III, 
 
 LANGSTROTHS FOLLY. 
 
 One November evening, or rather, late In 
 the afternoon, Otho had dropped in at the 
 Red Gables, where he had found Gilbert 
 and his father. Mr. Langstroth received 
 the young man with urbanity ; he had all 
 along seemed satisfied with Gilbert s new 
 friend. Gilbert himself looked up from 
 his desk, and greeted the visitor tranquilly. 
 
 '' Sit down, and make yourself at home," 
 said he, pushing a tobacco-jar towards 
 Askam. 
 
 But Otho did not at once sit down. 
 ''Will you come home and dine with me ? " 
 he asked, in his curt way.
 
 langstroth's folly. 67 
 
 " Tm sorry I can't," Gilbert said, polite 
 as usual. " You see these papers ? I 
 have more than an hour's work upon them 
 yet." 
 
 Otho never scoffed at Gilbert's '' busi- 
 ness," though he was ready to sneer at 
 that of any one else. All he uttered now 
 was a disappointed *' Humph !" 
 
 '' Stay and have dinner with us," said 
 Gilbert. " How did you come ?'' 
 
 " I rode." 
 
 '* From home ? On your way any- 
 where ? " 
 
 " No. I'm on my way from Balder 
 Hall," replied Otho, with something like 
 a scowl. 
 
 Gilbert looked at him, carelessly, it 
 seemed. Then he said — 
 
 "Well, send your horse round, and 
 stay, as I said — I want Askam to have 
 dinner with us," he added, turning to his 
 father. 
 
 '' I wish he would. We shall be de-
 
 68 BORDERLAND. 
 
 lighted, if he will take us as we are," 
 responded Mr. Langstroth. 
 
 Otho still seemed to hesitate a little, 
 till Gilbert, with a rather steady look at 
 him, which was not seen by his father, 
 continued — 
 
 " Look here. I'll propose something 
 else. IVe been tied down to this w^ork 
 all day, and I haven't had a turn out 
 of doors. Dine with us, as I said, and 
 afterwards I'll walk back with you to your 
 house. I have an errand in the town. 
 
 It'll do you no harm to travel on your own 
 legs for once in a way, and you can send 
 
 one of your fellows for your horse. How 
 
 will that do ? " 
 
 Otho's brow cleared. '' That will do 
 
 very well," said he, taking a chair. *' It 
 
 suits me down to the ground. Get on 
 
 with that work, and I'll talk to your 
 
 father." 
 
 Gilbert, having rung and given his 
 
 orders as to the accommodation of Otho's
 
 langstroth's folly. 69 
 
 horse, turned his back upon them, and did 
 not address another word to them until 
 the man announced dinner, when he put 
 his papers in a drawer which he locked, 
 and gave his arm to his father to support 
 him to the dining-room. Otho followed 
 them. Despite the poverty of the house 
 of Langstroth, the meals there were 
 always rather choice, well-cooked, and well- 
 served. Mr. Langstroth, it was under- 
 stood, depended a good deal for his health 
 of mind as well as of body upon the due 
 observance of such thinirs. Soon after 
 they had begun, Gilbert observed care- 
 lessly that they hadn't seen Michael all 
 day ; he had expected him to dinner. 
 
 "He's dining at Balder Hall," said Otho, 
 even more curtly than usual. 
 
 " Ah ! Had he arrived when you left ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "And how was my future sister-in-law ? " 
 
 " She said she was all right," was the 
 gruff reply, as Otho fixed his eyes for a
 
 70 BORDERLAND. 
 
 moment upon Gilbert, a little defiantly, 
 one might almost have said. Nothing 
 more was said about any of these topics — 
 Balder Hall, or Michael, or Magdalen. 
 When dinner was over, and they had gone 
 back to the library, Gilbert settled his 
 father with the greatest care, arranging with 
 his own hands his easy-chair, small table, 
 reading-lamp, and all his other requisites. 
 
 " You won't mind my leaving you for an 
 hour or two ? " he asked. 
 
 " Not at all, Gilbert. You want some 
 air and exercise. Go and get it." 
 
 ** Would you like me to ask the doctor 
 to call in ? " 
 
 ''No, no," was the somewhat testy reply. 
 " I see him often enough, without you 
 asking him to come." 
 
 " Michael is sure to look in on his way 
 home, but I shall most likely be back by 
 then. — Now, Otho, if you're ready." 
 
 As they stepped out of the house, they 
 became aware that a change had fallen
 
 LAXGSTROTHS FOLLY. 7 1 
 
 over the weather, which had been cold. 
 The sky was full of rack, driven rapidly 
 across it by a strong yet soft south-west 
 wind. The moon gleamed fitfully through 
 the clouds, and a gush of rain was blown 
 against their faces. 
 
 '' Halloa ! Raining ! " exclaimed Gilbert. 
 *' Do you mind a drop of rain ? " he added, 
 *' or will you ride home ? " 
 
 " Oh, I'm not afraid of a little weather," 
 replied Otho. ''Where do you want to 
 go?" 
 
 " Where you have never been yet," said 
 his companion. *' Down to the Townend, 
 as they call it. Come along. It isn't much 
 out of our way to Thorsgarth." 
 
 Otho followed in a docile manner. Now 
 that he had got what he seemed to have 
 been aiming at, his tete-a-tete with Gilbert, 
 all traces of sullenness and impatience 
 had vanished. Bulldogs, surly to all the 
 w^orld beside, are tame and obedient to 
 their masters ; and there was a o;-ood deal
 
 ^2 BORDERLAND. 
 
 of the bulldog In the way in which Otho 
 followed Gilbert about. 
 
 When they had got through the busiest 
 and most inhabited part of the town, they 
 found themselves almost alone In a steep 
 street, descending rapidly towards the 
 river. As they got further down it, the 
 houses gradually became more bare and 
 rough-looking ; and, some of them, more 
 and more ancient In appearance. Looking 
 down the hill, It appeared as if the street 
 ended In a ad de sac, as If there were 
 no egress that way from Bradstane town. 
 And the wall which appeared to shut the 
 place In, and block up the road at that 
 side, consisted of the frontage of two high 
 factories. There was In reality a narrow 
 passage between them, through which 
 access was obtained to the river, and by 
 means of which one arrived at an iron 
 footbridge, ugly, but useful. This could 
 not be perceived at the distance they 
 now were from the mills.
 
 LANGSTROTH S FOLLY. "] '^^ 
 
 '' What on earth do you want down 
 here ? " growled Otho, between two puffs 
 at his pipe. 
 
 ''We possess a bit of property down 
 there," Gilbert answered him. " It is 
 perfectly meaningless and perfectly useless 
 to us. It cumbers the ground, and has 
 swallowed up a pot of money which we 
 ought to be enjoying the benefit of now. 
 I sometimes walk down to it, to look at it, 
 and think what a folly it was. ' Lang- 
 stroth's Folly,' it ought to be called. 
 Townend Mills is the name it actually 
 bears. There it is ! " as the moon shone 
 out brightly for a few minutes, and showed 
 the dark mass of the factories rising almost 
 directly in front of them. 
 
 '' You're a queer one ! " said Otho, not 
 without a kind of admiration in his tones. 
 '' Where's the sense of fretting yourself by 
 coming and looking at it ? It's like trying 
 to heal a raw by scraping." 
 
 " Your simile would be just, if I did
 
 74 BORDERLAND. 
 
 irritate myself," replied Gilbert gently. 
 "My dear Otho" — he spoke impressively, 
 and laid his hand for a moment on the 
 other's arm — '' I never let anything irritate 
 me. I make it a rule " 
 
 '' Never — I never say never," said Otho. 
 "No saying what will turn up. Leave it 
 to chance. That's the best way. Besides, 
 Mag — some one was saying to me, only the 
 other day, that it's only very young people 
 who neve7^ do what they oughtn't." 
 
 It was on the tip of Gilbert's tongue 
 to say, " I know I am young, but, then, 
 I have taken care to be very wise, too," 
 because we are apt to blurt out the 
 thoughts nearest our hearts. But he said 
 quietly — 
 
 " Yes, I know I am young, but I have 
 had a good deal to do that generally falls 
 to older people. With Michael choosing 
 to leave us and take his own way, I have 
 had a good deal to think about, and a 
 i^^ood deal of help to give to my poor
 
 LANGSTROTH S FOLLY. 75 
 
 governor in his business affairs ; and I 
 soon found that, if you want to get on at 
 all in business, you ijiust keep your temper, 
 especially when you are a poor man, with 
 fallen fortunes, against the world " 
 
 *' Be hanged if I could ever keep my 
 temper about business, or anything else 
 that went wrong with me ! " 
 
 "" Ah, you can afford to lose your temper," 
 said Gilbert, in a cold voice, which caused 
 Otho hastily to say that he had meant no 
 offence ; and Gilbert proceeded — 
 
 " So, as I say, I don't let the Townend 
 Mills irritate me, though one might get 
 irritated enough about them if one would ; 
 but I come and smoke my pipe, and walk 
 round them now and again, and think 
 quietly. I feel as if I might, some time or 
 other, have a good idea on the subject, you 
 know — an idea that might be worked into 
 something. Don't you trouble yourself 
 about them. I won't detain you long. 
 Here we are ! "
 
 76 BORDERLAND. 
 
 They had entered the long, narrow 
 passage between the mills. It was now 
 late, getting near ten o'clock, for they had 
 not left the Red Gables till after nine. 
 The clouded sky made the night darker — 
 a darkness which was deepened, if any- 
 thing, by the occasional gleams of moon- 
 light when the rack parted. At the end 
 of the passage there was visible a kind 
 of gray shimmer, and in the intervals 
 between the gusts of wind they could hear 
 the rush of the river. 
 
 ''Wherever one goes, one comes upon 
 that river," exclaimed Otho, not as if he 
 were much deliehted with the fact. 
 
 " Yes. Tees keeps us pretty well aware 
 of his presence. It's as twisted and 
 crooked a stream as any in England, I 
 should imagine. There are the mills, 
 Askam. Now, I'll tell you my object in 
 life, if you like." 
 
 '• What is it ? " asked Otho, with deep 
 and unfeigned interest.
 
 LANGSTROTH S FOLLY. 77 
 
 *' I wish — at least, I intend to overcome 
 the obstacle raised In my way by the idiot 
 who built these mills. I like overcoming 
 obstacles. I intend, some day, either to 
 have them sold, and the price of them in 
 my pocket, or else to see them filled with 
 machinery, and working again at a profit." 
 
 " But you don't understand how to 
 manage mills," said Otho diffidently. 
 
 " No, but I understand how to manage 
 men. And I know a fellow who under- 
 stands how to manage mills — Roger 
 Camm. Do you remember Roger Camm ? 
 He used to be a playfellow of ours — the 
 curate's son." 
 
 " A swarthy fellow, very big and strong, 
 who always looked rather hungry, and yet 
 always said he wasn't when we used to go 
 in to tea ? " 
 
 " The same. I see you have an 
 accurate memory. I guess he was 
 hungry too, poor beggar. He was over 
 here, a year or two ago, stopping with
 
 yS BORDERLAND. 
 
 Michael ; they are great chums. And he 
 told me all about himself. He cut the 
 Church. He said his governor never got 
 anything out of it but water-porridge and 
 civil contempt from people who weren't as 
 good as himself. He was rather bitter 
 about it. iVnyhow, he cut it, as I say, and 
 took to the intelligent working-man line. 
 He is foreman in a Manchester factory 
 now, and he knows something about it all, 
 I can tell you. I made him promise that 
 when I sent for him he'd come and take 
 the management of this concern — ' run it ' 
 for me, as they say in America." 
 '' Ah, and when will that be ? " 
 '' When I find my purchaser or tenant," 
 said Gilbert, as suavely as ever. " He 
 told me all the reasons why these would 
 never succeed as cotton factories — they are 
 the only mills in the place ; the station is a 
 mile and a half away, and there is a steep 
 hill, nearly half a mile long, from here to 
 the top of the town. Oh, I've mastered the
 
 LANGSTROTH S FOLLY. 79 
 
 subject. Jute — that Is what I shall do with 
 them — spin jute, and get women and girls 
 out of Bridofe Street for hands." 
 
 '* Yes ? " said Otho tentatively, really in- 
 terested, and ardently wishing that he 
 understood a little more about it. " And 
 your father and — brother ? " Michael's 
 name seemed rather to stick in his throat. 
 
 " My father says he only wishes I could. 
 Michael is dead against it. Michael would 
 like to pull the whole place down." 
 
 '' What for ? " asked Otho sharply. 
 
 " Because he's a fool," was Gilbert's 
 reply. The intimacy between him and 
 Otho had, it would seem, progressed 
 quickly. 
 
 *' Because he's a fool," repeated young 
 Askam, leaning his elbows on the balus- 
 trade of the bridge, to which they had 
 now advanced, and staring down into the 
 rushing brown river. The expression on 
 the face, which the darkness concealed, 
 was not a pleasant one. " Curse him ! "
 
 8o BORDERLAND. 
 
 he muttered to himself,, so low that even 
 Gilbert did not hear him ; but the river 
 carried the sound, along with all the other 
 messages with which it was laden, towards 
 the sea. 
 
 '' Come alonor ! " said Gilbert, after a 
 brief, silent pause. " There's no use 
 staying here any longer." 
 
 Otho raised himself from the bridge, 
 and they retraced their way through the 
 silent passage, up the steep street, and to 
 where a road to the right led in the 
 direction of Thorsgarth. They had not 
 spoken a w^ord since leaving the mills. 
 
 " I think it's rather late for me to be 
 going with you," said Gilbert, hesitating 
 at the corner. 
 
 '' Not a bit ! What's ten o'clock ? 
 You've got a key, I suppose ? You said 
 you would come," said Otho rapidly, and 
 almost savagely. "And I want to speak 
 to you." 
 
 '' Oh, I am willing, and — well, Michael
 
 LANGSTROTH S FOLLY. 5 I 
 
 will see my father again before he goes 
 to bed — sure to. He will be leaving 
 Balder Hall by now, I dare say. They 
 keep early hours there." 
 
 '* Where there's an old w^oman like that 
 precious Aunt Martha, they must," said 
 Otho. " Look here, Gilbert, how did 
 your brother Michael get Magdalen 
 Wynter to accept him ? " 
 
 " By being the only man in the world 
 who proposed to her, or w^as likely to do 
 so," said Gilbert cynically. 
 
 " I don't see that. She is the hand- 
 somest woman I ever saw." 
 
 " She hasn't a penny, and won't have. 
 She isn't popular — but the reverse, and 
 no man, except Michael, ever penetrates 
 within those walls — oh, and you," he 
 added, with a laugh, as he turned to Otho. 
 
 ** You haven't accounted for it yet," said 
 the latter sullenly. 
 
 "Well, say she w^as in love with him." 
 
 "In love with my eye ! " 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 S2 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Gilbert laughed again. '' I give it up," 
 said he. " It's a conundrum I have often 
 set myself, to no purpose. Michael is ten 
 thousand times too good for her ; but 
 that's nothing to the point. I don't know 
 why she took him." 
 
 " She ordered me off this afternoon, 
 because he was coming to dinner," Otho 
 said, in a voice of choking anger. *' She 
 told me my whole body wasn't worth his 
 
 little finger. She " 
 
 " You might be in love with her your- 
 self," suggested Gilbert ; and, indeed, a less 
 astute observer mio^ht have been struck 
 with the same idea. 
 
 '' I'll be hang^ed if I am — insolent minx ! " 
 retorted Otho savagely. *' No girl shall 
 behave to me as she has done, with im- 
 punity. She shall pay for it. But, tell 
 me, how long were they in making it up ? " 
 ''Oh, not long; about six weeks. He 
 was home for his holidays one summer, 
 and we were talking together in front of
 
 langstroth's folly. 83 
 
 the house. Miss Strangforth's carriage, 
 with her and Magdalen in it, drove by. 
 The old lady saw us bowing, and stopped. 
 I introduced Michael ; he fell in love on 
 the spot, then and there, over head and 
 ears. Martha asked him to drive with 
 them, and he drove. Drove deeper and 
 deeper into love, I suppose ; and — yes, it 
 was just six weeks later, they were to- 
 gether at a picnic to Cauldron, and they 
 returned engaged. My father has never 
 got over it." 
 
 *' How ? " asked Otho, in the same 
 strangled voice. 
 
 " He thought it so idiotic and impru- 
 dent. And so it was, and is. But Michael 
 had become a man over the doing of it. 
 They stuck to it, and they have stuck 
 to it ever since. Some day, I suppose 
 they will be married; but I don't know 
 when." 
 
 Otho made absolutely no reply to this 
 prophecy. They turned in at the Thors-
 
 84 BORDERLAND. 
 
 garth gates, and the subject was dropped. 
 But Gilbert knew now why Otho had 
 given them his company at dinner, and 
 wh)^ he himself had been so earnestly 
 pressed to go ^back to Thorsgarth after 
 their walk.
 
 ( 85 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 
 
 One night, during the winter which fol- 
 lowed the conversation between Otho and 
 Gilbert, a large ball was given at a well- 
 known house in the neighbourhood of 
 Bradstane, and present at it were both the 
 Langstroth brothers, Magdalen Wynter, 
 and even Otho Askam, little as he loved 
 such entertainments. Perhaps Gilbert had 
 persuaded him to go. 
 
 Magdalen was chaperoned by a good- 
 natured matron, who had married off all 
 her own girls with credit and renown, 
 and could therefore afford to witness with 
 complacent amusement the gaspings and
 
 S6 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Stragglings of those who were still, as 
 (3tho might elegantly have put it, " in the 
 running." She had not that dislike to 
 Mao^dalen which animated more interested 
 persons ; she admired her beauty, and con- 
 sidered her *' good form." Magdalen her- 
 self had never looked better than she did 
 that night, or more haughtily and superbly 
 independent of all outside support. She 
 was richly attired, for Miss Strangforth 
 liked her niece to dress splendidly. She 
 danced very seldom ; it had never been 
 her habit to do so often ; and as not even 
 her rivals, while in possession of their 
 senses, would have dreamed of saying that 
 this was because she could not get partners, 
 and as her sitting out usually involved 
 also the sitting out of some man who 
 would otherwise have been free to dance 
 with another girl, and as the said men 
 always looked perfectly happy and satisfied 
 in their inactivity at such times, — her habit 
 did not in any way make her more popular.
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. Sj 
 
 To-nlofht it was observed that she 
 danced twice with her betrothed, twice 
 with Otho Askam, and once with Gilbert. 
 Perhaps that might have been endured 
 without much adverse criticism, but it was 
 noticed also, and bitterly noticed, that 
 Otho danced with no one else, though 
 both Michael and Gilbert did. 
 
 On the following afternoon, Gilbert, re- 
 turning from a solitary, meditative ride, far 
 into the country — such a ride as he loved 
 to take, and did take, almost every day — 
 found himself outside the palings at one 
 side of the Balder Hall Park. Looking 
 over them, he saw within the figure of 
 Magdalen Wynter. She was pacing quickly 
 up and down a sort of woodland path, 
 which in summer must have been almost 
 concealed, but which was now plainly 
 visible between the trunks of the naked 
 trees — visible, at any rate, to Gilbert as he 
 sat on horseback. There was a broad belt 
 of rough grass, in which grew ferns, and
 
 88 BORDERLAND. 
 
 from which also rose the leafless trees just 
 spoken of. Then came the path on which 
 Miss Wynter was walking, and beyond 
 that a glade, sloping steeply down to 
 where Tees flowed by in one of his many 
 curves. 
 
 Gilbert saw a dark, close cap of velvet, 
 and a pale face which drooped somewhat 
 beneath it, a long, fur-bordered mantle 
 tightly clipped around the wearer's form, 
 the bottom of a crimson kilting peeped 
 beneath it, and a pair of small, well-shod 
 feet. Her back was turned to him, and he 
 stopped and looked over the palings till 
 she turned, lifted her head, and saw him. 
 She gave a little start. 
 
 " Oh, Gilbert, how quietly you must 
 have come ! " 
 
 " Not so very. The ground is hard 
 and frosty, and my horse's hoofs rang. It 
 is your deep thoughts, Magdalen, which 
 render you deaf to outside things." 
 
 She had walked across the o^rass, which
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 89 
 
 was dry and hard, and crunched frostily 
 under her feet, up to the paHng, and held 
 up her hand to him. Gilbert rarely met 
 his future sister-in-law, and it has been 
 seen that in speaking of her to his friend, 
 Otho Askam, he did not employ terms 
 exactly of enthusiasm ; but if ever they did 
 encounter each other, whether by chance 
 or design, he was always scrupulously 
 amiable and polite to her. Whether this 
 meeting had come about by chance — 
 whether he had intended that it should 
 come about — this is a thing known only to 
 himself. As he looked down now, into 
 the marble paleness and wonderful beauty 
 of the girl's face, he gave no sign, and she 
 said to him — 
 
 *' Are you riding alone ? " 
 
 '' Yes, just as you see me. I have 
 been a long way — nearly to Middleton-in- 
 Teesdale." 
 
 '' I have been walking for an hour, up 
 and down this path. I am beginning to
 
 90 BORDERLAND. 
 
 find it rather monotonous, and am going 
 in for some tea. Will vou come and have 
 some, too ? " 
 
 '* With pleasure, if you can put up with 
 such a feeble substitute for my brother. I 
 think the North Lodge is just round here, 
 isn't it ?" 
 
 " Yes. I will meet you there. Then 
 we can walk to the house together." 
 
 They did so, Gilbert dismounting at the 
 lodo^e, and leading his horse. The short 
 winter day was closing in, gray and cold, 
 as they went up the avenue. 
 
 " How did you enjoy the dance ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Not much. I never do. Did you ? " 
 
 *' I always enjoy watching other people's 
 little games." 
 
 She Qfave a short laueh. '' Do vou 
 mean mine ? " 
 
 " Yours — nay. How can you have 
 any : 
 
 "Just what I was going to say. I mean.
 
 THE FACUITY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 9 1 
 
 if you were looking for what you call 
 ' games ' with me, your trouble must have 
 been wasted, that's all." 
 
 '' Of course. No ; I meant all the other 
 girls, and their mothers, and the men, too, 
 for that matter." 
 
 She laughed again, shortly and con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 '' And Otho Askam," he pursued tran- 
 quilly. 
 
 Magdalen looked up. " What ? Has he 
 got plans, or ' games,' as you call them ? " 
 
 *' I was amused to see his devotion to 
 you last night, and what a rage those 
 women were in about it. His game is to 
 avoid all the girls whom he might possibly 
 be supposed to be desirous of marrying. 
 He told me so. He is mortally afraid of 
 being trapped. And of course, he is even 
 more afraid of the mothers than of the 
 girls. You are quite harmless, you see. 
 You are promised to Michael. He feels 
 so safe and happy with you."
 
 92 BORDERLAND. 
 
 " Poor, innocent lamb ! " 
 
 " Isn't he ? It shows how bHndly he 
 trusts in your probity, and in your devotion 
 to Michael. He comes to Balder Hall 
 sometimes, doesn't he ? " 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 '' He never asks me to go with him." 
 
 ''No?" 
 
 '' It is so amusing-, I think. What does 
 Michael say to it ? " 
 
 " Michael — oh, he laughs, and says it is 
 very good of me to let him come, and that 
 it is a eood si^n for Mr. Askam's future 
 career that he frequents any decent society 
 at all," she said, with a short, dry laugh, 
 of which Gilbert's answering one seemed 
 an echo, so much were they alike in tone. 
 
 " How beautiful of him ! When you are 
 married to him, Magdalen," he added, 
 speaking very slowly, and openly watching 
 her face — '' when you are married to 
 Michael, and fairly established as Mrs. 
 Langstroth, for which consummation you
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 93 
 
 have waited so faithfully and so patiently," 
 — he dwelt upon all his words — '' I should 
 say that then Michael would find it 
 rather a bore to have Otho Askam coming 
 in, and you would, too. Don't you 
 think so ? " 
 
 " How can I tell ? I should say that 
 Otho Askam would find it a bore himself, 
 when I am married to Michael, if ever I 
 should be. As you say, I have waited a 
 long time, and I may have a longer one 
 yet to wait, before I am Michael's wife." 
 
 She spoke with a dead monotony of 
 tone, and a no less monotonous expression 
 in her face. They stood now in front of 
 the house. Maordalen beckoned to a 
 gardener's boy, and told him to send a 
 groom for Gilbert's horse, after which they 
 went into the house, into Magdalen's 
 sitting-room, and she cast off* her fur cloak, 
 and began to make tea, with the firelight 
 shininof on her crimson orown. Gilbert sat 
 In a low chair and watched her, but said
 
 94 BORDERLAND. 
 
 nothing. Only when she handed him his 
 cup of tea, he said softly — 
 
 *' Magdalen, I do wish you and Michael 
 could be married to-morrow." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 ** Then your life would be brighter." 
 
 *' Who told you it was dull ? " 
 
 " All your actions and words tell me so." 
 
 " You and I are what they call quiet 
 people," she remarked. " Not impres- 
 sionable, and all that kind of thing." 
 
 '' I believe that Is the general opinion 
 of our characters." 
 
 " Well, and people also seem to think 
 that such creatures — pachydermatous, don't 
 they call animals with thick skins " 
 
 '' Has Michael been lending you some 
 science primers to while away the time 
 in the winter evenings ? What a happy 
 thought of his ! " 
 
 '*You haven t answered my question." 
 
 *' They do — pachydermatous Is the 
 word."
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 95 
 
 " They seem to think that, because we 
 are not all on fire, and jerking about, for 
 nothing, we can do without any excite- 
 ment at all." 
 
 '' I have observed the existence of the 
 delusion you speak of. Yes, thank you, 
 I will have some more cake." 
 
 *' I don't know what you think, but I 
 feel to want more excitement than most 
 people, and I get less. Last night, if I 
 could have been sure that Michael would 
 not have misunderstood me, I would have 
 danced every dance with Otho Askam, if 
 the result had been that not a woman would 
 have spoken to me at the end of the even- 
 ing. That's the kind of feeling I have." 
 
 "I can quite understand it. I wish you 
 would have tried the experiment — say 
 with me." 
 
 " That would not have been at all the 
 same thing. You are a very good young 
 man, and Otho Askam is considered rather 
 a bad one."
 
 96 BORDERLAND. 
 
 " Michael is the best of us all." 
 
 " It is not that I like bad people, but 
 I like to sing in a different key from that 
 used by all the rest. I should like to 
 see them all looking as if the world were 
 coming to an end. ... By the way, Gilbert, 
 are you such a very good young man ? 
 They say you are too great a friend of that 
 timid creature we have been talking about, 
 who only dances with engaged girls, to be 
 very good." 
 
 Gilbert started — within himself, not out- 
 wardly, stirred his tea, and said carelessly — 
 
 " Perhaps I cultivate him for reasons 
 like your own — because I am dull, and it 
 makes people vexed." 
 
 " Perhaps. He is very rich, of course. 
 Gilbert, you have wished me such good 
 wishes about Michael, it is only fair that 
 I should wish you well in return. I wish 
 Otho Askam would relieve you of those 
 factories that I have heard you speak of. 
 Then there would be more money in your
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 97 
 
 coffers, and perhaps more chance of that 
 marriage coming off, of which you have 
 been speaking so kindly." 
 
 '' You are very good," said Gilbert, 
 laying down his empty cup ; " but gentle- 
 men are not in the habit of twisting their 
 friends' pockets inside out, for their own 
 advantage." 
 
 '' Oh no ! But if the friend had a 
 leaning towards commercial enterprise — a 
 speculative spirit. It would be an amuse- 
 ment for him." 
 
 ''7/* he had. But you know as well as 
 I do that his tastes are not of that kind, 
 but of the turf, turfy." 
 
 Magdalen smiled, and said, '' I know 
 that his tastes are for anything exciting, 
 anything highly flavoured. What will you 
 wager that he is tired of the turf in a year 
 from now ? " 
 
 '' Nothing at all. If I did wager on 
 that subject, I would wager to the con- 
 trary." 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 98 BORDERLAND. 
 
 '' Well, I think his superfluous cash 
 would be more respectably employed in 
 setting your factories going." 
 
 Here a loud ring sounded through the 
 house. 
 
 " I should not wonder if that were 
 Michael calling," said Magdalen, and she 
 spoke in hurried tones. '* Remember, 
 Gilbert, not a word of this. I feel better 
 for speaking to you ; and Michael is good, 
 oh, so much better than any of us ! And 
 he has cares of his own. And you will be 
 my brother, some day. Do you under- 
 stand ? " 
 
 *' My dear Magdalen, of course ! Do 
 not distress yourself, pray. There is no 
 need," he assured her, as Michael entered. 
 
 "Why, Gilbert, that is well," said he, 
 with a look of great pleasure. " I have 
 often wished that you could spare time to 
 ride out and have a chat with Magdalen 
 now and then. Where did you meet } " 
 
 Michael sat half an hour, and then the
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. 99 
 
 brothers rode home in company. Mag- 
 dalen, when the two young men had left 
 her, sat for a long time over the fire, 
 gazing into its glow, her elbows propped 
 on her knees. 
 
 " Gilbert is very observant — remarkably 
 observant," she thought to herself. ** Who 
 would have thought that he would see so 
 quickly, and Michael be so blind ? And 
 yet again, Gilbert sees, but sees only to 
 dissect — without any feeling, unless it be 
 a feeling of pleasure in showing one his 
 power. Michael does not see, but if he 
 did he would sympathize. He is grand — 
 at least, he would be if he were awake. 
 With all his love for me, I have not been 
 able to awaken him. His time is yet to 
 come. Sympathize — yes ; but what is 
 sympathy ? He can't give me what I 
 want. Here am I, beautiful, yes, very 
 beautiful, and very strong, and with some 
 brains in my head, though they all think 
 I have none. And I have to live, to
 
 TOO BORDERLAND. 
 
 vegetate, that Is, as if I were some worn- 
 out old woman, as if I were my own 
 great-aunt. It is horrible, horrible, and 
 I do not know how long I shall be able 
 to bear it." 
 
 A dreary blank seemed to open before 
 her mind's eye, and still she sat motionless, 
 staring into the fire. 
 
 . " Michael is my lover — he does love me, 
 too. He is the only friend I have, for 
 no one is fond of me. If they were kind 
 to me, and really cared for me, I would 
 not take their Otho Askam away from 
 them. I wonder if they know what he is, 
 this creature that they make such a fuss 
 about ! Perhaps there would be no fuss 
 if he were dancing attendance on any one 
 but me — fuss, of course, there would be 
 no fuss. Gilbert and I know what he is. 
 He has not been able to conceal his 
 miserableness from us. And we know 
 that he himself — the man — is not worth 
 fiorhtincr for. But I do not mean to let
 
 THE FACULTY OF CLOSE OBSERVATION. lOI 
 
 them have him, all the same. It amuses 
 me to keep him, and to enrage them. 
 And I shall go on amusing myself in that 
 way. Michael is very good, but he is not 
 — amusing. If I were married to him, I 
 wonder if I should find it as dull as I 
 do being engaged to him. Surely not. 
 
 But " 
 
 Here Miss Strangforth's maid came in, 
 and said her mistress was awake, and was 
 going to have a cup of tea, and would be 
 glad if Miss Wynter would go to her. 
 Magdalen went instantly, and whatever 
 the state of her own heart, she did not 
 let her great-aunt feel dull while she sat 
 with her.
 
 I02 BORDERLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 gilbert's cautiousness. 
 
 As the young men rode homewards, 
 Michael again expressed his pleasure at 
 Gilbert's visit to Balder Hall. Gilbert, 
 for his part, was meditative and rather 
 silent during the first part of their ride, 
 but was presently roused into animation 
 by a remark of Michaels. Some days 
 before, Gilbert had been expounding to 
 Michael, as he was now and then in the 
 habit of doing, just so much as he thought 
 fit for him to know of his financial arrange- 
 ments and schemes for the future. He had 
 informed his brother that the estate was 
 being very gradually retrieved, that he, 
 Gilbert, began to see daylight — a first
 
 GILBERTS CAUTIOUSNESS. IO3 
 
 glimmer, through the obscurity. All his 
 plans, he said, were working well, except 
 one, which, if he could only accomplish it, 
 would give an impetus to everything else, 
 and shorten his work by years ; and that 
 one was, of course, the sale or letting of 
 the Townend factories. He could not sell 
 them : he could not find any capitalist to 
 work them. 
 
 Gilbert had been very much in earnest 
 when he spoke — in his way of being in 
 earnest, that is, not vehemently, but 
 gently. He spoke of the mills, even of 
 the trouble they gave him, with respect — a 
 respect which he would have accorded to 
 no other topic or kind of topic under the 
 sun. Consequently, it had jarred on his 
 mood when Michael, lightly flicking his 
 boot with his riding - whip (for he had 
 looked in at the Red Gables on his way 
 from his daily round), and glancing round 
 the room as he spoke with an absent look, 
 asked —
 
 104 BORDERLAND. 
 
 ** Then, have we no capital now ? " 
 
 Gilbert looked at him, almost sharply at 
 first, and then with a patient expression, 
 like that of a conscientious teacher trying 
 to instil some branch of knowledpfe into 
 a peculiarly dense pupil. 
 
 " Not a quarter enough to set the mills 
 agoing," he said. '' And if we had, it is 
 too risky a venture for capital like ours, 
 that has been snatched, as it were, out of 
 the gulf it had been flung into." 
 
 " But if it is too risky for our capital, 
 surely it is too risky for that of a stranger." 
 
 ''That does not follow at all, as any 
 business man could tell you. It does not 
 follow that because it would be risky for 
 our capital, it would also be the same 
 for that of a stranger ; it would entirely 
 depend upon who the stranger might be, 
 and what the extent of his possessions." 
 
 To this Michael had made very little 
 reply. Gilbert imagined that he had for- 
 gotten it, but was undeceived as they now
 
 GILBERTS CAUTIOUSNESS. IO5 
 
 rode together in the winter moonlight. It 
 was yet early, but dark, save for the clear, 
 frosty-looking crescent in the sky. 
 
 " I met Sir Thomas Winthrop this 
 afternoon," observed Michael. *' We rode 
 together for a little while, and we were 
 talking about those factories. Sir Thomas 
 says he wonders my father does not pull 
 them both down. The land would sell 
 fast enough, without them, for building, and 
 they are in want of cottages down there." 
 
 There was a slight pause. Then — 
 
 " I dare say Sir Thomas Winthrop does 
 wonder," said Gilbert, going perfectly 
 white with anger. ''He would give the 
 world to buy the plot himself and build 
 cottages on it for his farm-labourers and 
 people. Does he think I am a fool ? " 
 
 "He never mentioned your name at all. 
 It was my father of whom he was speak- 
 ing, to whom the property belongs," said 
 Michael, a shade of reserve in his tone, 
 for it was quite true, and had struck even
 
 I06 BORDERLAND. 
 
 him more than once, that Gilbert had a 
 way of speaking of their estate as though 
 it were not only managed, but owned, by 
 himself. Michael trusted and believed in 
 him implicitly, but v.as not prepared to 
 be so sharply taken up. 
 
 " He is a meddlesome old imbecile, and 
 I would thank him to mind his own 
 business," said Gilbert, who had somewhat 
 recovered his composure. " Michael, do 
 you trust me, or do you not ? " 
 
 As he spoke, he almost pulled up, 
 and looked his brother full in the face. 
 Gilbert's countenance, at this period, was 
 an older countenance than that of Michael. 
 His brow had alreadv o:ot the first coat- 
 ins:, as it were, of the network of little 
 fine wrinkles which afterwards completely 
 covered it. 
 
 '' Trust you ? why, of course," said 
 Michael almost impatiently. 
 
 " Then, hearken to a word of advice. 
 Do not let Sir Thomas Winthrop, or Sir
 
 GILBERTS CAUTIOUSNESS. IO7 
 
 Thomas anybody, even speak to you of our 
 affairs. I know what I am about when I 
 say so. Do you think I'd discuss with 
 any outsider the way you treat a patient ? 
 I should know that you knew a hundred 
 times more about such things than I did, 
 even if I might not suppose you infalHble. 
 And if you trust me to be doing the best 
 for us all, you must not discuss what I am 
 doing or not doing, with any mortal soul," 
 
 " I tell you I was not discussing it," said 
 Michael, his dark brows drawing together. 
 " Sir Thomas began. I met him as I was 
 riding from " 
 
 " Sir Thomas be d — d ! " said Gilbert, so 
 heartily, and with such intense emphasis, 
 that Michael stared at him. This anger, 
 passion, and violent language, belonged to 
 a phase in his brother's character of which 
 he had scarcely suspected the existence. 
 This sudden display might have put a 
 suspicious man on the alert, but Michael 
 Langstroth was not suspicious; and, more-
 
 loS BORDERLAND. 
 
 over, he was one of those who, while they 
 can fight the world well enough, can oppose 
 an iron front to their enemies, and treat 
 their detractors with careless scorn, are 
 ver)- tender, ver)* weak, ver}' sensitive 
 where their friends and those they love are 
 concerned. He saw only that Gilbert was 
 vexed, and felt only that he was sorry to 
 have been the one to vex him. So to 
 change the subject, he said — 
 
 *• Well, I should be glad enough to see 
 the factories working again ; but I must say 
 I wish I had a couple of thousands to start 
 with. I would be married to-morrow." 
 
 Gilbert, who had other views for his 
 thousands than, to use his own phrase, *' to 
 give them to Magdalen Wynter to buy 
 furniture with," felt in his secret soul that 
 love must make any man feel small ; that 
 it might make even a generous man selfish. 
 
 " What interest could you pay ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 Michael shrugged his shoulders, know-
 
 GILBERTS CAUTIOUSNESS. IO9 
 
 ing no reply to that question ; and Gilbert, 
 in the tone of a tutor, who is master of his 
 subject, haranguing a pupil who does not 
 know its ABC, went on : *' You are my 
 brother, and, of course, I would like to 
 help you first, if I could ; but we cannot 
 afford it, Michael. We must wait. It is 
 our only course. Marriage must wait, and 
 prosperity must wait. To hand you out 
 a couple of thousands now, would mean to 
 throw our affairs back for years ; and as 
 for my father and me " 
 
 *' Oh, of course, I was joking," said 
 Michael carelessly. " I know there is no 
 royal road to that kind of thing, but only 
 hard work, and plenty of it." 
 
 He spoke as if he considered the subject 
 at an end, and they rode the rest of the 
 way in silence. Gilbert's mind was busy, 
 and his indignation active in that he had 
 such a mean-minded brother. 
 
 " I verily believe he would accept the 
 situation of overseer to the parish pump,
 
 no BORDERLAND. 
 
 if it should give him fifty pounds a year, 
 and bring him any nearer being married 
 to that doll," he thought ; and this sarcasm 
 was, as it were, the froth or scum thrown 
 to the surface by an anger, a fear, and an 
 emotion which was at that time the deepest 
 thing he could feel, and of which it was no 
 more the adequate measure than a yard 
 stick would be adequate for measuring an 
 ocean. And afterwards, when this first 
 ebullition of feeling was over, he fell to 
 brooding over the matter in a way which 
 was inevitable from his nature and tempera- 
 ment, as well as from his upbringing, and 
 the lines in which his life had been cast. 
 
 " What will become of my work," he 
 asked himself, as he often had asked him- 
 self lately, " if my father were to die, as he 
 might, any day ? If he were to die, and 
 everything were to be divided ! All that 
 I have scraped together with such toil, for 
 so many years. One-half of it as good as 
 flung into the gutter. Where would my
 
 GILBERT S CAUTIOUSNESS. 1 1 I 
 
 wages be then ? Michael is not fit to have 
 control over money which has been earned 
 by some one else. He does not understand 
 the subject, and never will. He would 
 take his share, marry that girl — if she 
 would have him — and leave me with my 
 life to begin over again. As for the 
 factories, if he is fool enough to listen to 
 Sir Thomas Winthrop, and repeat what he 
 says, as if it were something worth thinking 
 about — why, if he can do that, he is capable 
 of following out Sir Thomas's ideas too. 
 It is enough to disgust any man, and dis- 
 courage him from anything like real work," 
 Gilbert went on to himself, *'to think he 
 has so precarious a hold as I have upon 
 things which would not be existing now, 
 but for his devotion. One ought to have 
 some more secure prospect, if only to give 
 one a little heart in one's exertions." 
 
 Long after they had parted and gone 
 their separate ways, Gilbert was silent, 
 revolving this problem in his mind ; and
 
 I I 2 BORDERLAND. 
 
 the more he thought about it, the bigger 
 and ugHer it grew. 
 
 " Michael cares for nothing but to gratify 
 his own wishes and impulses," Gilbert 
 thought, darkly, feeling that this tendency 
 of Michael's interfered disagreeably with 
 certain plans and projects of his own, 
 which he did not recognize as proceeding 
 from the same source. 
 
 After that, the conversations between 
 them on such matters grew ever rarer and 
 less expansive. Michael did not dwell on 
 the matter, and, if he had thought about 
 it, would have been too proud to allude to 
 it after Gilbert had asked him whether he 
 trusted him ; and something, whether pride 
 or another feeling, hindered Gilbert from 
 opening out. Every day he grew more 
 sedate, and his brow became grayer and 
 more covered with its network of little 
 fine wrinkles.
 
 ( 113 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 gilbert's '* COUP DE THEATRE." 
 
 Towards the end of every hunting season, 
 those men in Bradstane and its vicinity 
 who belonged to the institution known as 
 the Tees Valley Hunt, were in the habit of 
 meeting at the King's Arms in Bradstane, 
 and there partaking together of a luncheon, 
 at which Sir Thomas Winthrop, the master, 
 presided, and after which he read out 
 the statistics of the past season, and laid 
 before the assembled company any pro- 
 posed new arrangements for the following 
 year. Nothing was decided then ; a 
 regular, meeting was called, to be held a 
 week later, in which the affairs were dis- 
 cussed in earnest, and real business was 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 BORDERLAND. 
 
 done. It had come to pass with the lapse 
 of years, that the gathering had become a 
 very sociable one, dear to the hearts of 
 those who partook in it ; and they would 
 not have given it up on any account. 
 
 This luncheon usually took place in the 
 beginning of March, and was often a good 
 deal talked about before it came off. It 
 had been December when the meeting 
 took place between Magdalen and Gilbert, 
 during which each had silently given credit 
 to the other for much keenness and acute- 
 ness of observation. It had been cold 
 and inclement then, and a long bleak 
 winter had followed, during which the 
 interview had not been repeated — at least, 
 no such meeting as that. It may be that 
 Gilbert had many a time ridden over the 
 wild road leading from Bradstane to 
 Middleton-in-Teesdale, for it was his habit 
 daily to take a long walk or a long ride. 
 He may have travelled over this road, 
 solitary and sedate, as his wont and
 
 GILBERTS "COUP DE THEATRE. I 15 
 
 humour were, his hps moving now and 
 then, when he felt himself to be quite alone 
 on the silent roads, as if he whispered to 
 himself endless calculations, but never too 
 absorbed to recognize an acquaintance and 
 acknowledge him if he met him — never too 
 abstracted to know his own whereabouts 
 amidst the moors and commons, or intricate 
 cross-country roads. 
 
 And it is more than probable that 
 Magdalen, on her part, had many a dozen 
 times paced that woodland path on which 
 Gilbert had found her, trying, by the 
 regular mechanical motion which, in her 
 own mind, she compared with that of a 
 treadmill, to grind down or pace out 
 some of the suppressed savageness and 
 discontent which gnawed her soul. This 
 walking to and fro was almost her only 
 mode of takinor outdoor exercise. With 
 all her veiled eagerness, her bitter sense 
 of the consuming dulness of her life, she 
 never left the Balder Hall grounds on foot,
 
 Il6 BORDERLAND. 
 
 never sought any companionship with out- 
 side things or people. For her there were 
 no long rambles, no casual, friendly greet- 
 ing with farm or cottage folk whom she 
 might see on the way. 
 
 This seclusion on her part was a subject 
 on which she and Michael had occasional 
 differences of opinion, which could hardly 
 be called disputes, since Magdalen was 
 in the habit of yielding the field at once , 
 to Michael in the matter of argument, 
 merely telling him that no doubt he 
 was quite right, and simply refusing to 
 change her ways because she did not 
 choose to do so. 
 
 "It Is too bad of you," said he, "when 
 there is so much work crying out to be 
 done. I could find you plenty of employ- 
 ment in Bridge Street, and one or two 
 other slums." 
 
 " I haven't a doubt of It. I feel not 
 the slightest vocation for anything of the 
 kind."
 
 GILBERTS "COUP DE THEATRE." II7 
 
 '' It is bad to sit aloft in meanineless 
 exclusiveness." 
 
 '' I dare say it is. It is the only kind 
 of thing I care for, here. I hate district 
 visiting, and people who make themselves 
 common, too." 
 
 *' You could not make yourself common 
 if you tried, and it would put more in- 
 terest into your life." 
 
 '' No, it would disgust me ; that would 
 be all. Every night I should think of 
 all the horrid scenes and horrid people 
 I had seen in the day. I should be 
 always seeing you mixed up with them, 
 and I should get to think you as horrid 
 as they were — you need not look at me 
 in that way. It's my nature. . . . Oh, 
 I dare say you are quite right, Michael — 
 indeed, you always are — but I don't take 
 any interest in those things, and I don't 
 want to. I prefer to remain as I am." 
 
 *' As I am," was exquisite enough in 
 its refinement, hauteur, and beauty. Had
 
 Il8 BORDERLAND. 
 
 any one else so spoken, Michael would 
 clearly have discerned, and probably 
 pointed out, an odious spirit of pride 
 and excluslveness. As It was Magdalen, 
 he thought, certainly, that she was un- 
 reasonable, but he found the unreason- 
 ableness agreeable ; he liked the shape 
 which It took — that of fastidiousness — and 
 was not disposed to quarrel with it. The 
 rare and wonderful creature was his own ; 
 he had never even yet felt as if he fairly 
 understood that fact, or could think 
 enough of It. He suggested, with a smile 
 lighting up the dark gravity of his face, 
 that he should drive her round some day 
 in his dog-cart, when he had not many 
 places to call at. She slightly lifted her 
 eyebrows, and drew out the silk with 
 which she was embroidering. 
 
 " No, sir. When you have a half- 
 holiday, and wish to devote It to me, I 
 will drive you out, or ride with you. At 
 other times — I know It Is not intellectual,
 
 GILBERTS "COUP DE THEATRE. I 19 
 
 or humane, but it is so — I prefer the 
 wood-walk in the park ; I will remain at 
 home." 
 
 She did remain at home, and took her 
 monotonous strolls along the woodland 
 path, or might now and then be seen, 
 alone, in an open carriage, pale and 
 tranquil and indifferent-looking, enveloped 
 in her dark furs and feathers, with a huge 
 light-gray fur rug filling up the rest of the 
 carriage, and this even on days when 
 the wind was keen and the frost biting. 
 She was well aware that not one woman 
 in twenty could have driven about Brad- 
 stane in winter, in an open carriage, 
 without her countenance assuming rain- 
 bow hues. She could drive thus, and 
 return home without a red nose or blue 
 cheeks ; and it gave her a negative, 
 cynical pleasure to do it, and watch other 
 people on foot, or sealed up in stuffy 
 broughams with both windows shut. 
 
 The evening- before the luncheon
 
 1 20 BORDERLAND. 
 
 already spoken of, Michael was with her, 
 and she asked him if he were going to 
 be present at it. 
 
 *' No," said he; "I'm engaged at the 
 time, but Gilbert is going." 
 
 *' Gilbert ! why, he surely does not 
 generally go." 
 
 " No, but he seems to take more in- 
 terest in sport since he became such a 
 chum of Askam's ; and, of course, he will 
 be there." 
 
 ''Ah, of course," said Magdalen. 
 
 " Of all the queer partnerships I ever 
 knew, that one is the queerest," added 
 Michael reflectively. 
 
 *' Do you think so ? It seems to me 
 the most natural thing in the world. 
 Would you have had Gilbert take up 
 with a nobody ? " 
 
 "My dear Magdalen ! I was going 
 to say, a nobody would be better than 
 Otho Askam ; but as he's a friend of yours, 
 too, I suppose there are excellences in
 
 GILBERTS "COUP DE THEATRE. 121 
 
 him which my baser vision can't perceive. 
 And I know what you mean by 'nobody.' 
 That's poor Roger Camm. Well, I'll 
 leave you your friend, If you'll leave me 
 mine." 
 
 '' I have not the slightest desire to 
 know anything about Mr. Roger Camm 
 — certainly not to interfere with him," 
 replied Magdalen coldly. Michael merely 
 smiled the sweet smile which Magdalen, 
 in her heart of hearts, considered insipid, 
 and the discussion ended. 
 
 At two o'clock on the following after- 
 noon, some forty men, young and old, sat 
 down at the long table. In the great room 
 at the " King's Arms." The so-called 
 *' lunch " was, in fact, a very substantial 
 dinner, as such luncheons are wont to 
 be. Sir Thomas Winthrop sat at one end 
 of the table, and at the other was a very 
 young man, called Lord Charles Startforth, 
 representing his father. Every family 
 of standing in all the country-side had
 
 122 BORDERLAND. 
 
 sent a representative, and every man 
 present was more or less acquainted with 
 every other member of the company. 
 
 At Sir Thomas's right hand sat Otho 
 Askam, with a cross look in his eyes, 
 and a more sullen expression than usual 
 on his brow and mouth. Sir Thomas was 
 a very worthy, honourable gentleman, 
 ready to take a paternal interest in any 
 young man of promise ; but he was not 
 a student of character, nor acute in reading 
 the silent language of expression, as seen 
 on a human face. From Otho's quiet- 
 ness, and his monosyllabic answers to 
 the remarks made to him. Sir Thomas 
 augured a milder mood than usual, and 
 resolved that now or never was the time 
 for him to say his say ; for he had on his 
 mind '' a few words " intended for Otho's 
 ear — words which he had succeeded in 
 convincing himself it was his duty to say. 
 On the opposite side, a little lower down, 
 sat Gilbert Langstroth, and next to him 
 was Byrom Winthrop.
 
 GILBERTS ''coup DE THEATRE. 1 23 
 
 As the wine went round, the talk grew 
 faster and freer. Men saw each other 
 to-day who had, perhaps, not met for some 
 time past, and these meetings called up 
 recollections, brought out questions, to 
 which the expansiveness of the moment 
 produced confidential answers. 
 
 At the end of the table over which Lord 
 Charles Startforth presided, a discussion 
 suddenly began about some of those who 
 sat near Sir Thomas Winthrop. 
 
 " What a lowerinor face that Askam has ! " 
 was the observation which began the 
 conversation. 
 
 " His face can't be more lowering than 
 his temper," replied some one else. 
 
 " Hah ! I see there's his inseparable 
 chum, not so far off him." 
 
 " Gilbert Langstroth, do you mean ? 
 Oh yes ! He's never so far away from him. 
 I have heard that that young man has a 
 very long head, and would not object to 
 going into partnership with Otho Askam
 
 124 BORDERLAND. 
 
 — Askam to supply the money, and Lang- 
 stroth the brains." 
 
 The other laughed. '' What, on Arthur 
 Orton's plan, do you mean ? ' Some 
 people plenty money and no brains, and 
 other people plenty brains and no ' " 
 
 " Oh, come ! That's too bad. Lang- 
 stroth is a gentleman." 
 
 '' I never said he wasn't, that I know 
 of. Gentlemen have got to live, like 
 other people, though these radicals " (with 
 a growl) '' seem to grudge us our very 
 existence." 
 
 " Oh, hang all radicals ! You say Lang- 
 stroth is a gentleman — Gilbert, I mean. 
 His brother is, at any rate. I don't know 
 a better fellow anywhere." 
 
 " No, nor I." The assent was general. 
 Then some one else said — 
 
 " He doesn't seem to get married." 
 . " No ; that engagement has been hang- 
 ing on far too long." 
 
 A slight pause, and then, leaning con-
 
 gilbert's "coup de theatre." 125 
 
 fidentially forward, the first speaker 
 said — 
 
 " Somebody else doesn't seem to get 
 married, either." 
 
 A sort of smile went round. Then 
 Lord Charles, with the rash candour of 
 youth, made the remark aloud which 
 every one else had been making in his 
 own mind. 
 
 " I wonder if Michael Langstroth knows 
 that every one says Otho Askam is sweet 
 upon his intended ? " 
 
 One man shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " If he did know, what could he do, or 
 say : 
 
 " I don't know what he could say, I'm 
 sure ; but what he could do would be to 
 get married to her at once." 
 
 Here a rather timid-looking young 
 man, who had hitherto taken no part in 
 the conversation, joined in, with a slight 
 stammer — 
 
 " If he had to marry her like that, it
 
 126 BORDERLAND. 
 
 would be all spoiled for him. He t- trusts 
 her." 
 
 '' Ah, 3^es ; very beautiful of him," said a 
 sceptical spirit ; and then a feeling seemed 
 to prevail that the talk had gone far 
 enough In that direction. Indeed, the 
 conversation at the other end of the table 
 had become somewhat loud, and the 
 speakers with whom we have been con- 
 cerned began to look and listen what it 
 was all about. 
 
 What had taken place was this. Sir 
 Thomas Winthrop, good gentleman, feel- 
 ing his heart warmed within him, took 
 advantage of much loud talk around 
 him to address a few words to Otho 
 Askam. 
 
 "I'm glad to see you with us to-day, 
 Mr. Askam." 
 
 " Thank you," said Otho, with his 
 wooden bow. 
 
 " I hope you found the sport to your 
 liking," added the baronet. '' We consider
 
 gilbert's ''coup de theatre." 127 
 
 it has been rather a good season, on the 
 whole." 
 
 " It has been nothing to complain of," 
 was the gracious reply. 
 
 Encouraged by this admission, Sir 
 Thomas filled his glass, and said — 
 
 " I hope this will not be the last time, 
 by many, that we shall meet on an occasion 
 like this." 
 
 Again Otho bowed stiffly, drank his 
 glass of wine, and gave ear to Sir Thomas, 
 as he proceeded — 
 
 *' I'm glad to see you and Gilbert Lang- 
 stroth so thick. He's a very intelligent 
 young man." 
 
 " Rather ! " observed Otho emphatically, 
 with a nod, and what would have been a 
 wink, only he remembered in time that 
 such a testimony to Gilbert's intelligence 
 might be thought rather compromising 
 than otherwise by his interlocutor. In his 
 own mind, and speaking to Gilbert in his 
 own language, Otho called Sir Thomas " a
 
 128 BORDERLAND. 
 
 rum old party, and green as grass, you 
 know," and this private opinion, which he 
 held very strongly, rendered it a little 
 difficult to him to meet the other now on 
 equal terms. 
 
 Sir Thomas went on — 
 
 ''He has behaved in a very admirable 
 way to his father, and I always like to see 
 that In a youth. He has almost retrieved 
 their affairs, which were in a deplorable 
 condition." 
 
 His voice took a confidentially funereal 
 tone, and he shook his head. 
 
 '' Yes, I know," said Otho vaguely, and 
 at this juncture he caught Gilbert's eye, 
 and indulged In the luxury of the wink, 
 which, In regard to Sir Thomas, he had had 
 to suppress. Gilbert's countenance did not 
 alter a jot, but he became watchful. 
 
 " Of course," resumed Sir Thomas, for 
 whom the subject appeared to have a fatal 
 fascination, ''a young man, who has had 
 to do battle with reverses, as he has, Is apt
 
 gilbert's "coup de theatre." 129 
 
 to think his affairs are the centre of the 
 universe, and that every one else is as much 
 concerned in them as he is himself." 
 
 To this Otho said nothing, but he re- 
 garded Sir Thomas with a curious, bull- 
 dog expression. 
 
 " I'm afraid he is just a little rash in 
 some things," Sir Thomas went on. '' For 
 instance, there's that property by the 
 river — those Townend mills. I have 
 heard that he is bent upon setting them 
 to work again." And as Otho made no 
 reply, "Do you know if he has any project 
 of that kind?" 
 
 In the fulness of his heart and head he 
 had not moderated his tones sufficiently ; 
 and, as the loud conversation about them 
 had somewhat lulled, this question was 
 distinctly audible, not only to Otho, but 
 to many others, even so far down as where 
 Gilbert Langstroth and Byrom Winthrop 
 sat. The former, though no names had 
 been spoken, knew v/ith unerring cer- 
 
 voL. I. 9
 
 130 BORDERLAND. 
 
 talnty, that it was himself to whom the 
 baronet alluded ; and Byrom Winthrop said 
 within himself, '' If only I were near enough 
 to stop the governor! He's perfectly in- 
 fatuated about those factories of Gilbert 
 Langstroth's, and he'll go and say some- 
 thins: he ouo^ht not to." 
 
 Otho's answer came quite distinctly too, 
 in bluff, curt tones. 
 
 " I can't inform you on that topic. All 
 I know of it was told me in confidence." 
 
 " Quite right, quite right ! " said Sir 
 Thomas, with the fatuity of an elderly 
 gentleman, in whom a solid meal, judici- 
 ously mingled with sound wine, has de- 
 veloped the sense of benevolence to an 
 abnormal degree. *' That's only just and 
 honourable. But listen to me. Your 
 father was a friend of mine ; therefore, I 
 mav be allowed to say a word to you. 
 Don't be incautious, my young friend." 
 Byrom Winthrop's eyes were fixed in an 
 agony of apprehension upon his father, as
 
 gilbert's "coup de theatre." 131 
 
 he marked the rubicund visaofe beaming- 
 with too much amiabiUty, and saw the 
 finger raised ; the eye, earnest, but unob- 
 servant, fixed upon Otho ; and heard these 
 words — for the conversation around had 
 almost ceased — " Don't let Gilbert Lane- 
 stroth, or any one else, let you in for some- 
 thing you don't know the end of. Take 
 my word for it, Bradstane is not the site for 
 a manufacturing town ; and gentlemen like 
 us had better keep clear of factories. The 
 best thing to do with those mills would be 
 to pull them down, and build cottages 
 where they stand ; and if you sink any 
 money in the concern, stick to that, stick 
 to that ! " 
 
 He leaned back in his chair with a 
 smile, a fatuous smile, upon his visage. 
 It was perfectly evident to the meanest 
 observer, that Sir Thomas Winthrop had 
 become— cheerful, and that he had just 
 said a very uncomfortable kind of thing ; 
 not that there might not be plenty of truth
 
 132 BORDERLAND. 
 
 in the thing, but to have said it aloud 
 was truly unfortunate. 
 
 Gilbert Langstroth had started up, his 
 face pale, and was leaning forward, with 
 compressed lips, apparently about to speak. 
 Byrom Winthrop said in his ear — 
 
 '' Don't make a row, Gilbert. You know 
 the word ' manufactures ' always sets him 
 off It means nothing." 
 
 Then a thing happened which no one 
 was prepared for. Otho Askam, looking 
 round, observed — 
 
 " I see a lot of you have heard what 
 Sir Thomas has been saying. All I 
 can say is, I did not bring on the dis- 
 cussion ; but now that it is on, I'd have 
 every man here know that Gilbert Lang- 
 stroth is my friend ; and whoever says a 
 word against him, says it against me. The 
 business that Sir Thomas speaks of, has 
 been mentioned between us. I wanted to 
 help him with it, and he wouldn't let me — 
 if you call that ' letting me in for some-
 
 GILBERTS "COUP DE THEATRE." 133 
 
 thing that I can't see the end of.' He 
 said it was a risky thing for my money. 
 I say, d — n the risk ! He's welcome to 
 half of all that I've got, and if he does 
 not choose to take it, why, I say he does 
 not know what friendship is. Shake 
 hands, Gilbert." 
 
 Gilbert had been listening, white and 
 breathless. Sir Thomas, in feeble despair, 
 was protesting, in the futile way common 
 to people who have stirred up a riot with- 
 out having the least idea how to quell it, 
 that really, it was most unfortunate. He 
 never meant — he had no idea ; and so 
 forth. 
 
 Gilbert suddenly turned upon him, with 
 his blue-gray eyes flashing from his pale 
 face. 
 
 " I do not know what ideas you may 
 have had, sir, nor what you meant, but it 
 is not the first time you have attacked me, 
 and said ill things of me behind my back. 
 You tried to set my own brother against
 
 1 34 BORDERLAND. 
 
 me on this very subject. You will pardon 
 my presumption in saying it, but upon my 
 word I cannot see what our family affairs 
 are to you. I have fought my father's 
 battle, and that for my brother and myself, 
 without appealing to you for help. But," 
 he added, with a sudden change of tone 
 which went subtly home to his hearers, 
 ''you have done me a good turn to-day, 
 when you would have done me an ill one. 
 You have shown me who is my friend." 
 He struck his hand into that of Otho, 
 which was still held out, and looked him 
 full in the face. '' I hear what you say, 
 Askam, and as long as I live I shall not 
 forget that you have stood by me while 
 my father's friend and your father's friend 
 maligned me to you. I think I will say 
 good afternoon," he added, as a stinging 
 parting shaft to Sir Thomas. '' It would 
 be embarrassing for us both to remain, and 
 it is fitter that I should leave than you." 
 With which, and with a slight and per-
 
 GILBERTS ''COUP DE THEATRE." 1 35 
 
 fectly self-possessed bow to Sir Thomas 
 and the assembled company, he departed, 
 and Otho Askam with him. 
 
 This scene, of course, made a great 
 sensation, and that night was reported far 
 and wide, throughout many miles of York- 
 shire and Durham.. Every man agreed in 
 saying that Sir Thomas Winthrop was apt 
 to become too expansive on these occa- 
 sions, and that they hoped it would be a 
 lesson to him. As to Gilbert and Otho, 
 and their behaviour, opinions differed. 
 Men spoke of their parts in the fray ac- 
 cording to their own feelings and disposi- 
 tions, some saying that it was a touching 
 example of faith and friendship, others 
 leaning to the opinion that Otho Askam, 
 in to-morrow's stingy fit, would repent him 
 of his reckless generosity to-day; while one 
 observer said — 
 
 " I suppose there was something real in 
 it. I'm sure there was on Askam's side, 
 at any rate ; but that Gilbert Langstroth is
 
 136 BORDERLAND. 
 
 a queer fellow. I'm certain, if you could 
 see to the bottom of his heart, you would 
 find gratitude to Sir Thomas for having 
 given him such a chance. It was very 
 telling, that slightly trembling voice, and 
 that little side stroke about having fought 
 their battles alone, and without asking Sir 
 Thomas's help. It made Sir Thomas look 
 confoundedly foolish, and as if he had 
 been doing a very mean thing." 
 
 " And don't you think he had ? " 
 
 " Certainly not. He had been doing 
 what he thought was the very best for 
 everybody, and in the most disinterested 
 way. Only, you know, he hates what he 
 calls tradespeople like poison ; and the 
 idea of knocking Gilbert's factories on the 
 head was just too much for him." 
 
 ''Well, I'm much mistaken if he has not 
 given them a good push towards a fresh 
 start." 
 
 '' I quite agree with you." And there 
 was a laugh at the expense of Sir Thomas.
 
 GILBERTS ''COUP DE THEATRE." 1 37 
 
 The poor gentleman hid his diminished 
 head that night, and it was not till the 
 following morning that he had so far re- 
 vived as to be able to take a tone of 
 dignified bitterness, and grave satire on his 
 own good-nature. *' Selfishness," he in- 
 formed Lady Winthrop, " was the only 
 policy that paid, and never again would he 
 commit the mistake of offering disinterested 
 advice to young men, even though they 
 might be the sons of his oldest friends." 
 
 It never transpired what passed between 
 Gilbert and Otho at any private interview 
 after this scene, but it was not very long 
 afterwards, that Gilbert, with a tranquil 
 smile on his face, sat down to his desk and 
 wrote the followinor letter :— 
 
 " Dear Roger, 
 
 '' Do you remember, when you 
 were staying with us, my taking you down 
 to the end of the town, to look at those 
 two factories ? And I asked you if you
 
 138 BORDERLAND. 
 
 would come and manage them, supposing 
 I ever got them to work again. You said 
 you would, if you were not tied down to 
 something else, or in a much better posi- 
 tion. Michael tells me you are still in the 
 same place, and not too well satisfied with 
 it. I am going to claim your promise. 
 My friend, Otho Askam, has bought the 
 mills ; at least, an arrangement has been 
 made by which they will most likely be- 
 come his in time, unless they pay so well 
 that we can afford to repay him his ad- 
 vances. He entrusts the whole direction 
 of them to me, and I intend to spin jute in 
 them, as I told you before. I should like 
 to have your aid and counsel as soon as 
 ever you can give them to me. I hope 
 you have not changed your mind, and that 
 you will not think the salary too small. 
 We find that we cannot offer you more 
 than ;^ 1 20 to begin with, but it would be 
 advanced on the first possible opportunity ; 
 and with the increasing prosperity of the
 
 concern the manager would get more, and 
 eventually have a share in the business, if 
 it should turn out worth anything ; and I 
 intend that it shall so turn out. I need 
 not say that we will guarantee that you 
 lose nothing in a pecuniary point of view, 
 if you are willing to help us to start a new 
 thing. I cannot say fairer than that ; and 
 in the hope that I may very soon receive 
 your assent to this proposition, to be 
 followed by your speedy arrival, I remain, 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 " Gilbert Langstroth." 
 
 The result of this letter was, that 
 within six weeks of its having been 
 written, there lounged into the library 
 of the Red Gables one afternoon an 
 immensely tall, broad-shouldered young 
 man, with a great shock of loose black 
 hair ; a pale, rough-hewn, plain face, clever 
 and attractive ; and with a wonderfully deli- 
 cate forehead — a young man who was in
 
 140 BORDERLAND. 
 
 the habit of saying the roughest kind of 
 things In the softest of voices. This was 
 Roger Camm, the former friend and play- 
 fellow of the two Langstroths when they 
 had all been boys together. According to 
 his ow^n account, he had turned himself into 
 a working man in order to save his own 
 self-respect, and because he had no affec 
 tlon for the Church, which had treated his 
 father so scurvlly. According to Michael 
 Langstroth, he was the best and truest 
 friend that ever a man had. And accord- 
 ing to Gilbert, he was a shrewd, " level- 
 headed " man of business, who was going 
 to help him to set his factories going, and, 
 incidentally, set his, Gilbert's, fortunes 
 going in the right direction. 
 
 " Here I am," was Roger Camm's 
 laconical greeting. 
 
 *' And not before you were wanted," 
 replied Gilbert, rising to meet him with 
 outstretched hand and his sweetest smile. 
 " You are welcome as flowers in May."
 
 I4.[ 
 
 " That shows my value to be high," 
 said Roger. " There are not many to be 
 found, then, in these latitudes. Where am 
 I to put up till I find rooms ? " 
 
 "Why, here, of course. Everything is 
 ready for you. But I believe Michael 
 expects you to dine with him to-night." 
 
 Thus Roger Camm was, as it were, 
 inducted .into his new position. He told 
 himself that night, before he went to 
 sleep, that it was odd that his life's course 
 should bring him back to Bradstane, 
 the little country market-town which he 
 despised ; and that his lot, at a critical 
 period, should again be cast in with these 
 others whom he had known when young, 
 but from whom he had believed himself 
 to be, practically, finally severed when he 
 had left his native place to. -begin work in 
 a great city.
 
 142 BORDERLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 
 
 Talking with Michael one day, soon after 
 his arrival, on the subject of the factories, 
 Roger discovered to his surprise that his 
 friend strongly disapproved of the enter- 
 prise. 
 
 " I am not one of the company, you may 
 be very sure," he said. 
 
 "I wish I had known. I would have 
 taken care to have nothing to do with it," 
 cried Roger, perturbed. 
 
 *' On the contrary, I am very glad you 
 have something to do with it. I have 
 more confidence in it since you came. I 
 dare say my reasons for disliking it may
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 43 
 
 sound quite absurd. I know they are 
 not business-like. I dislike Askam, and 
 I think the friendship between him and 
 Gilbert is quite unnatural. The more I 
 see of him the more convinced I am of 
 this. I know for a fact that Otho Askam 
 took the thing up out of pure speculative- 
 ness, for an adventure, partly to please 
 Gilbert, who has got a wonderful influence 
 over him, but chiefly to vex Sir Thomas 
 Winthrop," and Michael briefly recounted 
 the scene which had taken place at the 
 King's Arms. '' After that, nothing 
 would satisfy Otho but to get the thing 
 started at once. I don't believe in the 
 stability of an enterprise built upon any 
 such foundation, though I have no doubt 
 Gilbert will push it through, if it is to be 
 done. He says he is quite satisfied with 
 things as they are. Let them be ! I am 
 glad you get anything good out of it" 
 
 Roger said nothing to this, but he 
 watched Michael when he could do so
 
 144 BORDERLAND. 
 
 unobserved, and he became very thought- 
 ful. He saw that his friend's face was 
 thinner, and his smile less frequent than 
 it had been. There was a little fold 
 between his eyebrows, telling of a mind 
 not always at ease. These changes had 
 taken place in two years, though Michael 
 had been, in a small way, getting on in 
 the world. 
 
 Six busy months passed, during which 
 Roger had his work cut out for him, and 
 so much of it, that he could scarce compass 
 each day's task in its allotted time. The 
 labour was severe, the pay was not very 
 large; the enterprise was a risky one. 
 But he was one of those organizations 
 which seem to thrive and feed on hard 
 work and herculean exertions as others 
 do on meat and recreation ; he enjoyed it 
 all, and it seemed to put new life into him. 
 It really looked as if Gilbert's little boast 
 to Otho in past days, that if he did not 
 know how to manage mills, he did under-
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 45 
 
 Stand how to manage men, were literally 
 true, so perfectly was this new-comer of 
 his selection suited for the task offered to 
 him. The stiffer the work, the higher 
 did his spirits rise. The employment was 
 varied, too. It was not as if he had 
 entered upon a business which was ready 
 and in smooth working order. The whole 
 concern wanted " floating," in a small way, 
 and on him fell the burden of doing it. 
 There was not only the new machinery 
 to see about — which Roger thoroughly 
 understood, and into the details of which 
 he went with the zeal of an enthusiast — 
 there were also the repairs necessary to 
 the buildings themselves, after standing 
 so many years empty and idle ; to the 
 boilers and the engines, all of which it 
 took time and money to set in order. 
 Then there was the getting together a 
 sufficient number of hands, chiefly women 
 and girls, most of them out of Bridge 
 Street, some from one or two of the neigh- 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 BORDERLAND. 
 
 bourlng villages ; and again, some skilled 
 artisans from Barrow-in-Furness, to in- 
 struct the novices in their work ; and all 
 this had to be done with the utmost 
 economy possible. It was an enormous 
 task, which pleased Roger greatly ; and 
 while he was working at It, he had no 
 time to spare, even for Michael. 
 
 When he had come to Bradstane, there 
 had been a question about where he was 
 to live. This was settled by Dr. Rown- 
 tree, who said — 
 
 '' Come to the barrack, and put up with 
 Michael and me." 
 
 Roger hesitated a little at first, but there 
 was no mistaking the sincerity of the 
 doctor's wish, and the young man was very 
 willing to be persuaded ; for, to tell the 
 truth, there was no one In the world in 
 whose proximity he loved so well to be 
 as In that of Michael Langstroth. He 
 therefore soon allowed his scruples to be 
 overcome, and so was formed this odd
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 47 
 
 triangular household of bachelors, old and 
 young, and hard work was the order of 
 the day. 
 
 While Roger was full of business, and 
 seeming to grow heartier and stronger the 
 more he had to do, Michael, he noticed, 
 when he had time to notice him, was a 
 good deal quieter and staider than he 
 once had been ; not with the dulness of 
 discontent, it would seem, nor of depression, 
 but, so far as Roger could make out, just 
 with the quietness which comes to nearly 
 all men, as life lays gradually increasing 
 burdens upon them. Roger sometimes 
 wondered if his long engagement pressed 
 upon Michael, but at the sound of Magda- 
 len's name there always crossed his face 
 that expression which, the first time Roger 
 had seen it, had wrung his heart, because 
 it had told him that a spell stronger 
 than friendship had taken possession of 
 Michael's being. They did not talk about 
 such things, or '' confide " in each other —
 
 148 BORDERLAND. 
 
 such is not the way of men's friendships, 
 nor, perhaps, of any deep friendships ; and 
 then, Michael, with his outwardly urbane 
 and gracious manner, was deeply reserved 
 on personal matters ; and Roger, for all his 
 rouofh exterior, and oftentimes untutored 
 tongue, had what is called, and very 
 generally miscalled, " the tact of a woman," 
 in regard to such topics. 
 
 But Michael had on one or two occasions, 
 when something had stirred him more 
 than usual, let fall a few words as to his 
 own inner experiences, which Roger had 
 treasured up, and rightly so, as evidences 
 of more than brotherly regard, and of an 
 entire confidence in him on Michael's part. 
 
 Speaking one day about an illness of 
 old Miss Strangforth, which had been 
 serious, and in which both he and Dr. 
 Rowntree had been attending her, there 
 was a shade on Michael's brow, and a 
 worried, worn look on his face. 
 
 *' Is Miss Strangforth likely to die.
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 49 
 
 Michael?" asked Roger, roused to a 
 sudden interest in the matter. 
 
 '' Oh no ! At least, I most sincerely 
 trust not. No ; we will pull her through 
 this time." 
 
 " Miss Wynter is helping to nurse her, 
 of course ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course — like an angel." 
 
 " I should be afraid it was rather close 
 work for her." 
 
 '' They have a trained nurse to do the 
 hardest part of it ; and she is strong. 
 Magdalen is very strong," Michael re- 
 peated to himself in a meditative kind 
 of way. '* And, of course, she does what 
 I tell her about air and exercise, and all 
 that. I hope it won't injure her." 
 
 ** Well, she has the best of all possible 
 safeguards in having you there," said 
 Roger, with a smile, which was, perhaps, 
 a little forced. 
 
 He had intended his remark to be a 
 cheering one, but, to his surprise, Michael's
 
 150 BORDERLAND. 
 
 answer was a deep sigh. This was enough 
 to rouse Rogers uneasiness. Holding 
 his pipe suspended, he asked, anxiously, 
 " Michael, what's up ? Are you in 
 trouble ? " 
 
 '' It's only that what you say reminds 
 me that I am no safeguard at all for her," 
 he said dejectedly. '' I sometimes think 
 what a selfish brute I was, ever to speak 
 to her. If I had held my tongue and 
 kept out of the way, she might have been 
 married by now, to some man who could 
 really have been that protector, which I 
 can only seem to be. After all, what can 
 I do for her ? I cannot save her from 
 experiences like this. I cannot justly 
 afford to marry, for several years to come. 
 It would be gross selfishness to take her 
 away from Balder Hall to any such place 
 as I could give her. And yet, if Miss 
 Strangforth were to die — she is so old, 
 and so feeble — if she were to die, there 
 would be nothing else left."
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 151 
 
 '' And a great deal too good for her," 
 was the silent comment in Roger's bosom. 
 He found Michaels remarks very difficult 
 to answer. He had an idea, whether right 
 or wrong, that Magdalen, whom he could 
 not love, let him strive never so loyally 
 for his friend's sake to do so, was not 
 the frail and timid creature that Michael 
 seemed to imagine her. Roger felt sure 
 that the idea as to the impropriety of re- 
 moving her from Balder Hall to a humbler 
 abode was hers, not Michael's. He felt 
 sure she did not stand in much need of 
 guardianship, but was well able to fight 
 her own battles and take care of herself. 
 He heard all the gossip about Michael 
 and Miss Wynter, which, of course, never 
 penetrated to their ears ; heard, too, Gil- 
 bert's frequent scathing strictures on his 
 future sister-in-law. He knew all about 
 Otho Askam's frequent visits to Balder 
 Hall. So did Michael; but then, Roger 
 knew what was said about those visits.
 
 152 BORDERLAND. 
 
 He remarked at last, with the cowardice 
 characteristic of us all in such cases, and, 
 perhaps, also with a shrewd inkling that 
 it would not be of much use to speak 
 differently — 
 
 " Of course, it is hard lines, Michael, 
 having to wait so long. But even if you 
 were married to-morrow, you can't forbid 
 care and trouble to come to either her or 
 you. There are no lives without them. 
 But Miss Wynter is a brick, I know " (this 
 with great emphasis, as he felt anything 
 but sure of it) ; '* she ought to be proud 
 of waiting for you, and I expect she is." 
 
 " Do you know," said Michael, with the 
 air of a man who announces something 
 which will surprise his hearer, " I believe 
 that if she were not engaged to me, Otho 
 Askam would propose to her to-morrow." 
 
 Roger looked at him with parted lips. 
 Michael evidently thought the news would 
 be as great a discovery to his friend as it 
 had been to himself. 
 
 \ 
 
 V
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 53 
 
 "Well," observed Roger shortly, ''you 
 don't mean to say you think that would be 
 to her advantage ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not, in some ways ; but " 
 
 '' Not in any one way," almost shouted 
 Roger, bringing his fist on to the table 
 with a thump. *' That would be Hyperion 
 to a satyr, without the shadow of a doubt." 
 
 *' I know nothing about that," said 
 Michael, still in the same dejected tone, 
 " but I do know that she is all the world 
 to me, and I cannot give her up ; no, by 
 Heaven, I cannot ! " 
 
 He spoke with a flurry, an agitation, 
 and a passion, most unlike his usual even 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 " Give her up ? Who wants you to ? " 
 
 " No one. It's only my own conscience 
 that sometimes suggests what I ought to 
 do." 
 
 ''If your conscience suggests that, it is 
 deceitful, and a blind guide. But come, 
 Michael, old fellow, you are morbid to
 
 154 BORDERLAND. 
 
 talk in this way. The Idea of a man of 
 six and twenty looking at things so darkly ! 
 Absurd ! You have your life before you." 
 
 He went on talkinof In this strain till he 
 saw the cloud gradually clear from Michael's 
 brow, and heard him admit that he was 
 sure he must be a fool ; and so, begin to 
 look a little brisker. 
 
 But Roger was thoughtful as he went 
 about his work. 
 
 *' Give her up ! " he said to himself. 
 " He'll never give her up till she flings him 
 off. Poor Michael! That is the only cure 
 for him ; and perhaps It wouldn't be one, 
 after all. Should I be brute enough to 
 wish it for him ? " 
 
 And then he thought about the change 
 in Michael's face, so altered from its 
 youthful pride and carelessness ; but, as it 
 seemed to Roger, more beautiful now, with 
 the graver, broader seal of manhood 
 stamped upon It — that seal which care 
 never lets out of her fingers, and which
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 55 
 
 she is perpetually imprinting on every 
 brow that carries on it a line worth 
 reading. 
 
 If Roger were concerned about the 
 change in Michael, Michael, on his part, 
 was much struck — concerned, is hardly the 
 word — by what seemed to him a great 
 alteration in Gilbert. It appeared as if 
 hard work suited Gilbert as well as it did 
 Roger, for the more his business grew, the 
 livelier he became. 
 
 " Lively ?" said Miss Wynter, to whom 
 Michael had one evening been speaking 
 on the subject. 
 
 "Yes, lively. It's the only word I can 
 find with which to describe the change ; 
 and I don't wonder that you exclaim at 
 it, for ' lively ' is hardly a word that fits 
 Gilbert, is it ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! Pray, what shape does 
 the liveliness take ? " asked Magdalen, 
 who appeared almost interested. 
 
 ''Oh, I can hardly tell you. A quick-
 
 156 BORDERLAND. 
 
 ness and alertness — I can hardly describe 
 it. He makes jokes sometimes, and laughs 
 at a mere nothing— which is not Gilbert's 
 way, you know, as a rule. He talks a 
 great deal, too, which is also contrary to 
 his usual habits. He takes my arm if we 
 meet, and altogether there is something 
 odd and changed in his manner." 
 
 " Perhaps he is in love," suggested Mag- 
 dalen languidly. 
 
 Michael shrugged his shoulders, smiling 
 slightly. 
 
 '' He may be, but I don't think it." And 
 so the topic dropped, till Michael returned 
 to the town, and during the evening re- 
 lated this supposition of Magdalen's. 
 
 " I don't know whether he's in love or 
 not," said the doctor, who, for his part, was 
 certainly not in love with Gilbert ; " but 
 he was in here to-day to see you, when 
 you were out ; and he says your father 
 intends to make his will, and he wants 
 you to know about it."
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 57 
 
 " To make his will. I should have 
 thought he had made it long ago." 
 
 " So he did, for I was one of the wit- 
 nesses ; but it has to be altered, with all 
 these complications about factories and 
 property to be sold, and such-like." 
 
 " Oh ! well, Gilbert will see to it ; he 
 has always managed that kind of thing," 
 said Michael carelessly. " I don't see 
 what I have to do with it." 
 
 " I should say you had a good deal to 
 do with it. You certainly ought to look 
 after it." 
 
 *' Look after my father s will ! what for ? 
 He's got no one to leave anything to, 
 except Gilbert and me. He'll divide 
 between us, I suppose. I should not 
 like to think that Gilbert got less than 
 me, seeing how he has slaved all these 
 years in order that there may be any- 
 thing to leave at all." 
 
 Dr. Rowntree looked impatient, and, 
 Michael having left the room, the doctor
 
 158 BORDERLAND. 
 
 remarked to Roger, in homely phraseology, 
 that he did not know whether to call 
 Michael a trump, or to tell him he was 
 a born fool, when he talked in such a way. 
 To which Roger merely replied that he 
 supposed men were best left to decide 
 such matters for themselves. 
 
 " I mistrust that Gilbert ; he is too sly 
 for me," said the doctor. 
 
 " He has a quiet way. I don't think 
 he is exactly sly," answered Roger, and 
 the vSubject of their conversation came in 
 at the moment. Michael, he was told, 
 was in the study, and he went there and 
 briefly told him again what Mr. Langstroth 
 thought of doing. 
 
 ''All right," said Michael, examining 
 some substance under his microscope with 
 the intensest interest. '' So that he leaves 
 as much to you as to me, I'm agreeable. 
 I hope we shan't have to read it for a long 
 time to come." 
 
 Gilbert cast a look of anger, contempt.
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 159 
 
 and wonder, mixed, towards Michael, who 
 did not even see it. There was a short 
 silence, till Gilbert observed, in a con- 
 strained voice — 
 
 *' Well, remember, I am not answerable 
 for anything he does." 
 
 '' Does ! " echoed Michael, his attention 
 at last thoroughly aroused ; " when you 
 say ' does ' in that way, you mean ' does ' 
 something wrong. What could or should 
 he do against his own sons ? Have you 
 any idea that he means to do something 
 unjust to us ? " 
 
 "No; oh no!" A pause. "But it is 
 an important thing. He told me he meant 
 to make this will, and I was determined 
 he should not do it till I had told you. 
 Of course, he does not dream of leaving 
 his property away from us. Why should 
 he, as you say ? " 
 
 Michael, still peering into his micro- 
 scope, was quite unaware that close beside 
 him a brother man stood, who had
 
 1 60 BORDERLAND. 
 
 wrestled with spiritual agencies, and had 
 been defeated, during the last two 
 minutes. 
 
 " Our father has his faults, like most 
 people," pursued Michael reflectively ; '' but 
 I never heard any one accuse him of 
 injustice or meanness. He wouldn't be 
 likely to leave his property to a charitable 
 institution, for instance ? " 
 
 " Of course not," said Gilbert im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " Well, then, I really don't see that we 
 need, or, indeed, can say anything about 
 it. In fact, I shall not," he added, looking 
 up rather suddenly at his brother, as if he 
 had all at once seen the thing in a new 
 lieht, and arrived at a clear decision. 
 '' He is my father, and I trust him. For 
 heaven's sake, Gilbert, don't get to dis- 
 trusting people, or you may make your- 
 self miserable for ever. Take my advice, 
 old fellow, and let him alone." 
 
 " Yes," said Gilbert slowly. '' I think
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. l6l 
 
 that, as you say, it will be best to leave 
 him alone." 
 
 He said scarcely anything more, and 
 soon went away. 
 
 '' A pretty fool he is ! " he sneered to 
 himself, when he was outside, as he 
 walked up and down the pavement in front 
 of their house, smoking an ante-prandial 
 pipe. " Lord ! what with ' hearts,' and 
 not distrusting any one, and respecting 
 the aged (who are usually fools), my 
 brother Michael is likely to lose the use 
 of what little reason he has, it seems to 
 me. There never was an elephant with 
 a denser head than he has. He has eyes 
 like a hawk's, and mine are more like 
 those of a boiled codfish ; but I think I 
 know which pair can see furthest into 
 a stone wall." 
 
 The next morning Michael called at 
 the Red Gables, and found his father 
 alone. He had been reflecting upon 
 Gilbert's words, it would seem, for he 
 
 VOL. I. n
 
 l62 BORDERLAND. 
 
 presently said to Mr. Langstroth that he 
 had heard he intended making a new will. 
 His father assented, and Michael observed, 
 ''If Gilbert had not told me, sir, as if it 
 had been a thing you rather wished me 
 to know, I should never have mentioned 
 it, of course. But since he did, I just 
 want to say one thing. Whatever pros- 
 perity we have is due to Gilbert. He, 
 more than I, has been the eldest son. It 
 is just due to circumstances, I suppose, 
 that it has been so ; but I would not like 
 it to be forgotten." 
 
 " I do not forget what Gilbert has been, 
 and is to me, nor the qualities he has 
 displayed," was Mr. Langstroth's reply ; 
 and Michael went away with his mind at 
 ease, feeling that he had discharged his 
 duty. 
 
 The day after that, Gilbert, who had not 
 seen his brother in the interim, ordered his 
 horse early. Mr. Langstroth asked him 
 fretfully where he was going.
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 63 
 
 " Only for a little ride," said Gilbert ; 
 " and, by the way, Coningsby is coming at 
 eleven. You told me to tell him, and I 
 did." 
 
 " Shan't you be here ? " asked his father, 
 in a tone almost of dismay. 
 
 '' Well, no, I think not," replied Gilbert, 
 with his sweetest smile. " It would hardly 
 do. But if you have not quite made up 
 your mind, I could send him word " 
 
 '* Oh, no, no ! My mind is quite made 
 up — quite. Let him come." 
 
 " I think it would be best," said the 
 considerate son. " Good morning. I hope 
 it won't tire you much." With which he 
 went out. 
 
 The " little ride " prolonged itself in- 
 definitely, as it seemed. Far along the 
 hard, white moorland roads he went, past 
 Middleton - in - Teesdale, a road which 
 seemed to have some peculiar fascination 
 for him, since he chose it oftener than any 
 other. On he went, till he got to High
 
 164 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Force and its solitary wayside inn. Here 
 he dismounted, to have his horse watered ; 
 for himself, when they asked him what he 
 would take, he said, ''Nothing," and thanked 
 them. To let his horse stand awhile, he 
 strolled down the dark, pine-shaded path, 
 to the grand waterfall, and stood beside 
 the river, watching dreamily the thunder- 
 ing surf, snowy, dazzling, brilliant in the 
 brilliant sunshine. He stooped, took 
 water in the hollow of his hand, and drank 
 it. This he did several times, but without 
 a change in the calm serenity of his 
 expression ; and then he returned to the 
 inn and again mounted his horse. 
 
 Riding on, he proceeded till nothing 
 but pathless moors surrounded him, stretch- 
 ing lonely and bewildering in all directions. 
 He was on the borders of Westmoreland, 
 and now the westering sun and the 
 lengthening shadows told him that it was 
 time to be returning. Tranquil and quiet 
 as ever, he did turn, and guided his tired
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 1 65 
 
 horse towards Bradstane. It was dark 
 when he got in, and he trod softly, as if 
 he imagined there might be some one ill 
 or dead in the house. He only laid his 
 hat aside, but did not put off his riding- 
 coat, before he went, still in this quiet, 
 gentle way, into the library, where he 
 found his father alone. 
 
 '* Where on earth have you been ? " he 
 said fretfully. " Michael has never been 
 i:iear all day, and there I was, left with 
 Coningsby, to give all my instructions 
 alone." 
 
 '' Mr. Coningsby would hardly have 
 been likely to take his instructions from 
 me," said Gilbert, with his slight smile. 
 *' Then, you have got it done ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is done. Rowntree and Ran- 
 som " (his servant) " witnessed it. But I 
 want no more of such efforts. It has 
 worn me out. . . . However, it is some 
 satisfaction to think that things are settled 
 as they should be."
 
 1 66 BORDERLAND. 
 
 During this speech, Gilbert had stood 
 with his foot on the fender, and his hand 
 held up as if to shield his face from the 
 glow of the fire. He now observed softly — 
 
 '' I will go and change my things, and 
 be with you in a few minutes." 
 
 When he was alone in his bedroom, he 
 took out his handkerchief and passed it 
 across his forehead. 
 
 '' Disofustinof ! How overheated one eets 
 w^ith a lonof ride ! " he muttered to himself. 
 
 The hall bell sounded through the house. 
 Self-possessed Gilbert gave a great start, 
 and became suddenly paler than usual. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " he uttered aloud, the next 
 moment ; " he has his key, of course." 
 
 But it seemed to take him some time to 
 change his riding-clothes for the garments 
 he usually wore in an evening. Just 
 before he went downstairs, he seated him- 
 self on a chair at his bedside, and drew a 
 long breath. 
 
 <'Well, it had to be," he whispered to
 
 MICHAEL, ROGER, GILBERT. 16/ 
 
 himself. " There was nothing else for it. 
 And he is so dense — so dense. One must 
 do the best. It was for the best." 
 
 Then, as if feeling himself guilty of 
 some weakness, he drew himself together 
 with a little shake, composed his counten- 
 ance, and went downstairs. Nothing was 
 said by father or son relative to either the 
 ride taken by the one, or the business 
 accomplished by the other. Quite late, 
 Otho Askam called to smoke a pipe and 
 have a chat about the mills and other 
 topics. And Gilbert slept quite soundly 
 that night. 
 
 This was May. During the summer 
 Mr. Langstroth became somewhat stronger, 
 and things went on in their usual course 
 until November.
 
 I 68 BORDERLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE FIRSTFRUITS OF THE WISDOM OF 
 GILBERT. 
 
 One afternoon, about the middle of No- 
 vember, Gilbert, looking in at the " bar- 
 racks," said to Michael — 
 
 " I wish you'd give a little particular 
 attention to my father. It strikes me that 
 he Is not so well as he ought to be, or 
 rather, that he's worse than usual. I 
 wonder If Rowntree would mind looklno- 
 In, as well ? " 
 
 " Of course, we will come. Now, do 
 you mean ? I'll go at once, and the doctor 
 at night." 
 
 He went across to his father's house and 
 saw him. Mr. Langstroth was certainly
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. 1 69 
 
 very weak and unwell, but not, it seemed 
 to Michael, seriously so. He left direc- 
 tions for him to be kept very quiet, and 
 returned to his dwelling-, promising that he 
 and Doctor Rowntree would both look in 
 during the evening. 
 
 As they sat at dinner, a messenger 
 came hurriedly from the Red Gables, sum- 
 moning them to go at once to Mr. Lang- 
 stroth, who was very ill. In a very few 
 moments they were in the house, but only 
 to find that all was over, and that Gilbert, 
 white and haggard-looking, was standing 
 by the chair in which their father lay, life- 
 less. Gilbert said they had risen from 
 table, and he had supported his father to 
 his chair, into which he had sunk, dead. 
 The young man's pallor and tremulousness 
 were fully accounted for to Michael, by 
 the fact of the sudden blank which must 
 now come in his life, after his years of 
 devoted attention to his father, who had 
 thus so suddenly departed ; and by every
 
 1 70 BORDERLAND. 
 
 silent sign that he knew how to give, he 
 sought to assure Gilbert of the sympathy 
 and fellow-feeling he experienced. 
 
 There was a hush and solemnity in both 
 the houses during the few days which 
 elapsed between Mr. Langstroth's death 
 and his burial. 
 
 There was but a small following to 
 attend him to his grave. Roger Camm 
 and Dr. Rowntree formed a part of it, and 
 there was Miss Strangforth's carriage, and 
 several others sent by neighbours and 
 friends, Otho Askam's brougham amongst 
 them. 
 
 When it was over, the two brothers, 
 with Dr. Rowntree and Mr. Coningsby, 
 returned to the Red Gables. It was 
 decided that it would be best to, as the 
 doctor said, " o-Qt throuQ^h with the busi- 
 ness of the will," then and there, so that 
 their minds might be free for other 
 things. 
 
 It was one o'clock in the afternoon of
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. 171 
 
 a dank, chill November day, when they 
 parted ; and Roger Camm, with an inclina- 
 tion of the head to Michael, to show that 
 he was with him in spirit, if not in the 
 flesh, went to the doctor's house, intending 
 there to wait lunch for him. 
 
 He went into the study, where Michael 
 and the doctor kept their professional 
 library, and where odd volumes of Roger s 
 had got mixed up with treatises on medi- 
 cine and surgery. He picked up a volume 
 at haphazard, and gazed at the tide of it. 
 " Principles of Biology," it ran — '' Prin- 
 ciples of Biology " — and though he believed 
 he was trying to read it, he was really 
 very busy thinking thoughts — thinking of 
 Michael ; wondering how far his father's 
 affairs were retrieved, and if at last there 
 were some prospect of his happiness being 
 accomplished. 
 
 '' Since he is so wrapped up in that 
 insipid girl, and since she has not done 
 him the kindness to throw him over before
 
 172 BORDERLAND. 
 
 now," Roger thought, In the pride of his 
 own wisdom, " there's no chance of It 
 now, since his fathers death must make 
 him more prosperous In a worldly point 
 of view. She'll have him, sure enough. 
 They will be married, and he — will live to 
 repent It." 
 
 Insensibly, the book dropped, and his 
 thoughts turned to the days of long ago ; 
 to his comrades and their lives, and his 
 life, and to their play In the Thorsgarth 
 earden. In summer sunshine. 
 
 " Queer, very queer," he reflected, '' that 
 we two, who were companions then, should 
 be chums now. I wonder what Michael 
 will turn out; how he will win his spurs ; 
 what will give him the stamp of finished 
 manhood ? for he's a dreamer yet, though 
 he does not know It." 
 
 Then he began to think that the doctor 
 was lone a-comlns:, and that If he did not 
 appear soon, he, Roger, would have to eat 
 his lunch alone, and be off to his work.
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. 1 73 
 
 The door opened. The doctor's parlour- 
 maid stood there. 
 
 ''If you please, sir, they've sent from 
 Mr. Langstroth's. Mr. Michael begs you 
 will step across at once." 
 
 Roger sprang to his feet with a vague 
 wonder and foreboding in his mind. He 
 soon measured the distance between the 
 doctor's house and the Red Gables. He 
 found the door open and a servant waiting. 
 
 '* This way, sir. They are in the 
 library." 
 
 In another moment Roger found himself 
 in the well-known room, with the three 
 familiar figures assembled there. 
 
 Mr. Coningsby, the lawyer, who had 
 been present, was gone. Roger looked 
 from one to the other of his old friends, 
 all so silent. It was very strange, and, 
 as he dimly felt, there was something 
 potent, thrilling, and portentous in that 
 silence. He looked last at Michael — why, 
 he knew not — and when his eyes fell upon
 
 1 74 BORDERLAND. 
 
 him, he could scarcely restrain a start and 
 an exclamation. Michael had always been 
 noted for being so easy-going, so slow 
 in judging others, so full of sweet-tempered 
 charity. He did not look very much at 
 peace with himself or the world just now. 
 He was the first to speak. 
 
 '' I sent for you, Roger," he began, and 
 his voice was very quiet, and very incisive. 
 Roger hardly recognized it. " I want you 
 to hear something I have to say. You are 
 my friend ; and a friend, as we all know, 
 sticketh closer than a brother." 
 
 '' Can this be Michael ? " Roger thought, 
 in his bewilderment. " I fancied no one 
 but Gilbert could sneer in that way." 
 
 Roger had yet to learn that there is no 
 sneer so bitter as that which is called forth 
 by intense suffering, or a very keen sense 
 of injustice. He thought all sneers were 
 the products of a cynical frame of mind, or, 
 with some persons, constitutional. But, 
 thinking that such a tone was more like
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. I 75 
 
 Gilbert than Michael, he was, as it were, 
 suddenly reminded of Gilbert's existence, 
 and he glanced at him. He was seated 
 in a corner of the old sofa, which had 
 always been his favourite position ; his 
 arms were folded, his face pale, and ap- 
 parently absolutely devoid of expression. 
 Dr. Rowntree, though silent, was evidently 
 in a state of the m.ost cruel mental per- 
 turbation, and looked in a helpless way 
 from one brother to the other, 
 
 '' Yes, Michael," said Roger, at last. " I 
 am ready, either to do or to let alone, 
 as you wish. What is it ? " 
 
 '' Boys ! " exclaimed the little doctor, 
 unable to contain himself any longer, 
 " before it goes any further, listen to me. 
 Before you quarrel, before you dispute, 
 for Heaven's sake consider! You may 
 say things, brothers as you are, which can 
 never be unsaid." 
 
 ''That is exacdy what I mean to do, 
 sir," said Michael, turning his white face
 
 1 76 BORDERLAND. 
 
 for a moment, in the doctor's direction. 
 Roger, loyal to the heart, could not but 
 think in this moment, that Michael looked 
 almost cruel. Again he did not under- 
 stand that there is no feeling of hate or 
 of cruelty so strong, and so desolating, as 
 that called forth by spited or cheated 
 love and trust. 
 
 " You may trust me not to dispute," the 
 young man went on ; "I never do. Hark 
 to me. Roofer ! " He turned now to RoQ^er ; 
 and to the latter it seemed as if all 
 Michael's movements were stiff and 
 mechanical, and under restraint. *' My 
 father has died, as you know, and has 
 left a will, as you also know. He has 
 left a good deal more money than it was 
 expected he would — by me, at any rate. 
 I am his eldest son ; Gilbert his youngest. 
 I wish you to know how he has disposed 
 of his property, and to hear what course 
 I intend to pursue, in consequence of that 
 disposition. Here is the will. I won't
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. I 77 
 
 trouble you with much of it, but I must 
 ask you to listen to this passage." 
 
 From the will, it appeared that the 
 Langstroth estates were now free of 
 encumbrance. The income derived from 
 what remained to them of it was all 
 required, and would be for some few years, 
 to pay off the remaining interest on some 
 debts, of which the capital was already 
 cleared away. Over and above, there was 
 a clear sum of six thousand pounds, gained 
 about a year ago by the advantageous sale 
 of two farms and some wood, mentioned in 
 the will. Of this, four thousand was left to 
 Gilbert, at his absolute disposal ; three thou- 
 sand, as the will stated, as his just half of the 
 property, and another thousand as a sort 
 of payment or indemnity for his services 
 in retrieving the estate, which, without his 
 care and diligence, would probably have 
 been rather a debt than an inheritance. 
 The other two thousand were left in trust 
 to Gilbert, to be invested and disposed 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 178 BORDERLAND. 
 
 of for Michael's benefit, and the Incomes 
 derived therefrom were to be paid to 
 Michael by his brother; the testator de- 
 claring himself to have the greatest faith 
 and confidence in the business abilities 
 of his son Gilbert. The town factories 
 would pay nothing for a long time to any 
 one but Otho Askam, whose money had 
 found the means of starting them again. 
 When they should, or if they ever should 
 begin to pay, their profits were to be 
 equally divided between Michael and 
 Gilbert, or, failing them, their heirs. That 
 is, in plain terms, there was a probability 
 that some eight or ten years hence, 
 Michael might begin to receive an income 
 from " Langstroth's Folly." The house 
 called the Red Gables, situate within the 
 township of Bradstane-on-Tees, and all 
 the furniture, plate, pictures, china, orna- 
 ments, and all other household append- 
 ages whatsoever, save such as might be 
 personal possessions of Gilbert, were to
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. J 79 
 
 go to Michael absolutely, as the eldest 
 son. 
 
 Such was the tenor of the testament, 
 to which Roger listened breathlessly, as 
 Michael read them, in a low, quick, clear 
 voice. When he had finished, he laid the 
 will on the table again, and Roger, look- 
 ing intently at his friend, saw such a 
 look in his eyes, such agony in the drawn 
 lines of his mouth, that he went up to 
 him, and, laying his hand on his shoulder, 
 asked in a low voice — 
 
 " Michael, what does it mean ? " 
 
 *' It means that my brother is very 
 clever, and I am a ereat blockhead. I 
 am fain to doff before his superior 
 wisdom." 
 
 Gilbert, his arms still folded across his 
 chest, was looking at thera, pale, calm, and 
 seemingly self-possessed. 
 
 " Take heed of what you say, Michael," 
 he said quietly. "Abuse, even from " 
 
 " I am going to do nothing but praise
 
 1 80 BORDERLAND. 
 
 and congratulate you on your great 
 wisdom and astuteness," replied Michael, 
 flashing a look of such trenchant con- 
 tempt towards his brother, that Gilbert's 
 own eyes sank before it. It was a new 
 sensation for him to find himself despised 
 by the man for whose simplicity he had 
 always entertained such a finely ironical 
 contempt. 
 
 '' Only," resumed Michael, speaking so 
 clearly that not a word could be lost of 
 what he said, " it is a pity my father 
 did not appreciate you better. He should 
 have left you the other two thousand out 
 and out. Unless you take pity on it, it 
 will be useless, for I shall never touch it." 
 
 " Now, Michael, Michael, madman ! 
 Beware what you say ! " cried the little 
 doctor, stamping about, as middle-age 
 does when cash is blasphemed or lightly 
 spoken of. 
 
 Michael, having patiently waited till this 
 apostrophe had been contributed to the
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. l8l 
 
 conversation, but who heeded it not at all, 
 suddenly bent towards Gilbert, fixed his 
 burning eyes upon him, and said, in a 
 lower voice, but one which was still dis- 
 tinctly audible to them all — 
 
 " Two thousand, Gilbert ; it is an odd 
 coincidence. Do you remember my say- 
 ing to you long ago, that if I'd two 
 thousand to start with I would be married 
 to-morrow — eh ? " 
 
 Gilbert neither moved nor raised his 
 head. 
 
 '* I know you thought that a very 
 imprudent way of spending two thousand 
 pounds. It seems my father must have 
 held the same opinion, and between you, 
 you have arranged that I should do 
 nothing mischievous." 
 
 Here he raised himself up again, and, 
 turning to the others, went on — 
 
 •'' I want you all to understand this. 
 That which I am not trusted to handle 
 for myself; that which is confided by my
 
 I02 BORDERLAND. 
 
 father to my younger brother to take care 
 of, lest I should misuse it — left so by my 
 own father, to whom I have been a 
 dutiful and honourable son, — I take God 
 to witness it; — that is not for me at all. 
 I refuse to touch it. You all hear what 
 I say ? " 
 
 There was a low murmur from the 
 doctor and RoQfer. Michael went on — 
 
 " That being the case, it seems that 
 what I have left, to call my own, is my 
 fathers house — the house in which we 
 were both born and brought up, where 
 we lived as brothers, without an un- 
 brotherly thought — on my part, at least ; 
 and the house where, when I went out 
 into the world to relieve the burden which 
 had fallen on our affairs, I left you in my 
 place, to tend my father; to watch over 
 all our interests ; to deal justly by me as 
 well as by yourself " 
 
 There was a very long pause. It 
 seemed as if Michael, steady though his
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. 1 83 
 
 voice had remained, were unable to finish 
 the utterance of the thoughts that were 
 in his mind. The others were silent, and 
 Gilbert looked doggedly downwards. 
 
 " That house, as I say, is now all I 
 have, but it is my own, and you have 
 just given in the account of your steward- 
 ship," went on Michael, his lips white 
 and his eyes hard, so that Roger felt a 
 kind of fear of him. " There it is ! " 
 He laid his hand upon the will. '' To 
 me, it has been a fatal stewardship. It 
 has robbed me not only of my in- 
 heritance, but of my brother." And he 
 advanced two or three steps nearer to 
 Gilbert. 
 
 The latter rose ; perhaps he knew what 
 was to come. Neither of the others dared 
 to speak. Gilbert once lifted his head 
 and looked at his brother, but instantly 
 his face sank again. He was voiceless, 
 powerless, defenceless. Michael stepped 
 aside and threw the door open wide.
 
 184 BORDERLAND. 
 
 " Being my house," he said, " I order 
 you to leave it now, this instant. Go ! " 
 
 Another pause. Silence still. Michael 
 stood waiting. Gilbert looked around 
 him, as if he struggled to speak, but 
 could not. He saw nothing to cheer him. 
 Dr. Rowntree with his hands clasped, 
 his kind face looking the picture of woe ; 
 Roger Camm frowning and silent. Gilbert 
 took two steps towards the door. 
 
 " Michael," he said. 
 
 ** Go ! " repeated Michael, in a stony 
 voice. 
 
 Gilbert walked slowly out at the door, 
 into the hall, took his hat, and left the 
 house. They heard the hall door close 
 after him, and it was with two of them, at 
 least, as if the sound struck them like an 
 actual blow. To turn one's brother out of 
 doors would generally be done figuratively 
 — morally, perhaps. Michael had done it 
 literally, and with a resistless determination 
 and strength of will which none of them
 
 THE WISDOM OF GILBERT. 1 85 
 
 had credited him with. His hour had 
 come at last, and the real stuff of which he 
 was made, good or bad, was beginning to 
 show itself. 
 
 After a moment's silence, he turned 
 again to the others and said — 
 
 " I won't detain you any longer. I wish 
 I could have spared you such a scene, but 
 as my two nearest friends, I wished you to 
 be under no mistake as to what I was 
 going to do. And now I should like to 
 be alone for awhile." 
 
 Roger heaved a deep sigh, and said 
 nothing, but moved towards the door. 
 The doctor, who had a tender heart, and 
 down whose cheeks the tears were run- 
 ning, fell back into old Quaker phrase- 
 ology, as he almost sobbed out — 
 
 ** Michael, my poor, poor lad, thou'll 
 come and sleep in thy own bed to-night, 
 at my house, won't thou ? " 
 
 " Yes, I will, doctor," replied Michael 
 slowly ; and they left him alone.
 
 1 86 BORDERLAND, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 
 
 '' The goddess Calamity is delicate, and 
 . . . her feet are tender. Her feet are 
 soft, he says, for she treads not upon the 
 ground, but makes her path upon the 
 heads of men." 
 
 These words, or something like them, 
 were floating dimly in Roger Camm's 
 mind, as he walked with Dr. Rowntree 
 across the square to the house on the 
 opposite side. His heart was full to 
 bursting. Loving Michael as he did, 
 better than any one in the world, he felt to 
 the full the meaning of the summons he 
 had received, to hear his friend's decision. 
 It is not for a light thing that a man turns
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 1 87 
 
 out of doors the brother in whom he has 
 all his life felt unqualified trust and con- 
 fidence ; it is not a casual acquaintance 
 whom he summons to witness the deed, 
 and so Roger felt. But while he quite 
 appreciated this accident of the thing, the 
 thing itself bewildered him even yet. It 
 was one of those bizarre, jarring circum- 
 stances which come upon one like a clap 
 of thunder from a cloudless sky, which one 
 fails to take in properly on the first blush 
 of them. Even yet, Roger could not feel 
 at home with the recollection of Michael 
 standing erect and stiff, the spirit of anger 
 flaming from his eyes, deaf to every re- 
 monstrance, and casting scornful eyes 
 upon Gilbert's pitiful condition. 
 
 Neither he nor the doctor spoke till 
 they were in the house again. It seemed 
 that they had been but a short time away, 
 for there was everything as Roger had left 
 it, and the luncheon-table set for them. 
 This bald reality and commonplace of
 
 I 88 BORDERLAND. 
 
 everyday life did not seem to put things 
 into any more comprehensible shape ; if 
 possible, they heightened the strangeness 
 and sadness of the situation. But standing 
 together there, they (to use the vernacular) 
 " found their tongues." Dr. Rowntree sat 
 down in his easy-chair, and wiped his eyes 
 with a large red bandana handkerchief, 
 blew his nose violently, and said, In a voice 
 which was yet full of tears — 
 
 '' Who would ha' thought it, Roger ? 
 who would ha' thought it ? " 
 
 *' Well," said Roger, propping his broad 
 back against the mantelpiece, and staring 
 down at his boots, '' not I, for one, and 
 I think there will be precious few to jerk 
 their heads and say, * I told you so,' this 
 time. And yet I don't feel half so much 
 surprised as enraged, now that It Is all 
 out." 
 
 " He should not have flung away what 
 was left him in that way," complained Dr. 
 Rowntree. "He should have been cool."
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 1 89 
 
 "Cool, doctor! Now, come! would 
 you have been cool ? Were you cool, as 
 it was ? " 
 
 ** No, no, I know. But he ought to 
 have kept cool. He should have carried 
 it before a court of justice. They do set 
 aside wills sometimes, that are flagrantly 
 unjust ; and I think they would, at any rate, 
 have handed him over that two thousand 
 to do as he liked with. I'm sure they 
 would ; it stands to reason. An elder son, 
 with not a penny of cash left him, except, 
 as you may say, at the discretion of his 
 younger brother — monstrous, monstrous ! 
 As if he had been a spendthrift, or a ne'er- 
 do-weel ! " 
 
 " If it were twenty thousand, it would 
 make no difference," said Roger slowly, 
 for he had been working the thing out in 
 his mind. " I can see where it is. Do 
 you suppose Michael could have got be- 
 side himself in that way, just because he 
 was disappointed of money that he had
 
 igO BORDERLAND. 
 
 expected ? He thinks too little of it for 
 that. If every penny had been left at his 
 own disposal, I have very little doubt he 
 would have left it entirely in Gilbert's 
 hands, for he thought all the world of his 
 business capacities. It is the treacher}-, 
 not the money. When I think how Gilbert 
 
 has sneaked — sneaked, all through it " 
 
 Roger stamped his foot. *' It shows you 
 ought never to trust any one, least of all 
 your nearest relations. Where Michael 
 trusts, he trusts with his whole heart, just 
 in the same way that he loves. He trusted 
 Gilbert and he trusted his father, and they 
 have cheated and duped him like a couple 
 of blacklegs. I hope Master Gilbert's 
 greed will avenge itself on his own head, 
 and I wish a pest upon every penny of his 
 ill-gotten inheritance. It isn't the money 
 only that Michael has lost ; it's his faith 
 and his trust : it is his brother, that's what 
 it is. That isn't a loss you get over in a 
 moment, even if your brother dies ; and
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. IQI 
 
 Michael has lost Gilbert in a worse way 
 than if he had been burying him to-day 
 beside their father. That's about it. He 
 will never get over it, to be the same 
 again." 
 
 *' I'm afraid not — I'm afraid not." 
 ''He would not be what he is if he 
 could," said Roger. 
 
 " How can one console him ? " 
 " Nohow. It isn't to be done." 
 " What can I say to him, my poor lad ? " 
 " Nothing, if you'll believe me. I can 
 tell you I shall not speak of it. There are 
 things no one ought to meddle with, 
 unless they are opened out to one. I 
 know why he sent for me — it was in order 
 that he might not have to enter into the 
 whole business again. He wanted it done 
 with, sealed up, that I might know he had 
 no brother any more. You can't very well 
 talk to a man of a relation he hasn't got, 
 and I shall keep my mouth shut." 
 
 "I will try," said Dr. Rowntree ; "but
 
 192 BORDERLAND. 
 
 if I see him looking very miserable, I don't 
 think I can keep quiet." 
 
 " You won't see Michael looking miser- 
 able, I can tell you that. My time is up," 
 added Roger, looking at his watch. '' I 
 must go back to my work." 
 
 He left the house, with the thought just 
 come into his mind, " After all, I shall have 
 to speak to him. I don't see how I can 
 stay in this shop any longer, after the 
 treatment he has had." 
 
 He turned into the office, but it was 
 with difficulty that he succeeded in giving 
 any attention to his work ; for in his mind's 
 eye he had the Image of Michael, seated 
 alone in his desolation in that wretched 
 room, where the wretched scene of the 
 morning had taken place. It seemed to 
 Roger that the worst blow had befallen 
 Michael which by any possibility could 
 overtake him — which idea serves sweetly 
 to illustrate his own extreme Ignorance of 
 life, and of the protean forms which calamity
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 1 93 
 
 and misfortune can assume ; also of the 
 marvellously elastic nature of the human 
 creature, and of that part of it, be it brain, 
 or heart, or soul, or whatsoever it may in 
 reality be, which suffers. 
 
 Roger Camm, repeating to himself the 
 half-forgotten Greek of his quotation about 
 the goddess Calamity, never dreamed for 
 a moment but that she had stayed her 
 course. Surely her feet had pressed with 
 sufficient weight upon the head which she 
 had selected as her standpoint ! Could his 
 spiritual eye have pierced that veil, filmy, 
 and yet dense, which envelops us as we 
 move to and fro on this earth, and seen 
 the guiding powers about Michael, he 
 would have perceived still hovering amongst 
 them a dark form with a w^oebegone 
 countenance — her of the tender feet yet. 
 
 He returned to Dr. Rowntree's from his 
 work, and, having no heart to amuse him- 
 self in any way outside, sat with a book, 
 to which he gave but a divided attention, 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 194 BORDERLAND. 
 
 wondering the while whether Michael 
 would go to Magdalen that night, or wait 
 till the morrow ; and wondering likewise 
 whether she would be of any use to him 
 in the crisis. 
 
 *' Gilbert would be a better spec, for her 
 now," said Roger bitterly, within himself. 
 " Only, not to blacken him more than is 
 absolutely necessary, he never had the 
 faintest fancy for her. In fact, I don't 
 believe he would take her with fifty thou- 
 sand down." 
 
 Towards ten o'clock Michael came in, 
 greeted them both with great composure, 
 took his accustomed chair, lighted his pipe, 
 and made some few observations to them 
 before they all went to bed. He made not 
 the slightest allusion to what had taken 
 place in the morning, and Roger did not 
 choose or wish to break upon this reserve : 
 the litde doctor did not dare. He found, 
 what he had never suspected before, that 
 his adopted son had the power of holding
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 1 95 
 
 him at arm's length, and while he could 
 not but admire what seemed to him 
 Michael's strength and self-possession, he 
 was not quite happy at finding it thus, as it 
 were, used against himself. This dry-eyed 
 composure, this something indescribable in 
 voice and glance, were, thought the doctor, 
 magnificent, but they did not invite to the 
 sentimental reflections of which he was 
 longing to disburden himself. 
 
 They separated at their usual hour, and 
 no one complained the next morning of 
 not having slept, though under Michael's 
 eyes there were ominous purple rings 
 which told of his having enjoyed some- 
 thing less than perfect repose. 
 
 Roger got a few words alone with him 
 before breakfast. 
 
 " Michael, I want to speak to you. After 
 what has happened, I don't see how I can 
 stay on at the factories. I don't fancy 
 being mixed up with those two, when you 
 are my friend."
 
 196 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Michael paused a moment. '' I under- 
 stand what you mean," said he. " You are 
 loyal, Roger, at any rate. But there is 
 no need for you to feel like that. It is 
 entirely between him and me, and not 
 another soul in the world, if you know 
 what I mean. I know what you feel, and 
 I believe I should feel the same in your 
 •place ; but can you make a sacrifice for my 
 sake?" 
 
 " I dare say I could, if I knew what it 
 was." 
 
 "It is, just to remain where you are. I 
 don't want any one to notice it for me. 
 I can notice things for myself — such things 
 as I wish noticing." 
 
 " Oh, that settles the matter, of course," 
 said Roger. '' I shall stay — unless they 
 sack me." 
 
 At that moment a note was brought to 
 Michael. He opened and read it very 
 quickly, and then tossed it across to Roger. 
 
 '' Read it," said he. " You must see me
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 1 97 
 
 through each stage of this, so that we need 
 never have to mention it to each other 
 ao-ain." 
 
 Roger read it. It was from Gilbert, and 
 the paper on which it was written was 
 stamped, " Thorsgarth, Bradstane-upon- 
 Tees." 
 
 '' There are two precious rascals to- 
 gether under the same roof," was Roger's 
 unspoken comment before he began to 
 read. 
 
 But his face changed as he perused the 
 lines. The note was short, but strong in 
 its very baldness and simplicity ; as unlike 
 Gilbert's ordinary soft politeness as the 
 inflexible decisiveness of Michael in the 
 same matter had been unlike his usual 
 conduct. 
 
 Gilbert asked Michael for an interview. 
 '* Though you have treated me like a dog," 
 he said, " I will show you things so that 
 they shall be right, if you will see me. I 
 can make it straio;ht, too, though you do
 
 1 98 BORDERLAND. 
 
 not think so." After a few more phrases 
 of a similar kind, he concluded — " Do not 
 be hasty in your reply. Think well before 
 you refuse what I ask, for if you do, I 
 shall never ask again. I can make it right, 
 and the whole future of both of us may 
 depend upon your answer." 
 
 Roger read this twice over to himself, 
 and looked at Michael, who had gone to 
 his desk and was writing quickly. As 
 soon as he had finished, he came again to 
 Roger and handed him his letter, which 
 ran — 
 
 ** I have received your note, and decline 
 to see you or hold any communications 
 with you. Your possessions are, I believe, 
 at the Red Gables. I shall not be there 
 to-morrow, and you will be at lib.erty to 
 fetch away what you choose of your be- 
 longings. After that you cannot be 
 admitted there. 
 
 " Michael Langstroth."
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. IQQ 
 
 " Michael," said Roger, holding both 
 these documents in his hand, and speaking 
 very earnestly, "forgive me for even 
 seeming to meddle with your affairs. 
 Gilbert has a meaning under that note of 
 his. Won't you think twice before you 
 send that answer to him ? " 
 
 " I did all the thinkinor about him that I 
 shall ever give to him again, yesterday," 
 said Michael trenchantly. " Do you sup- 
 pose I spent all yesterday shut up in that 
 room w^ithout coming to some definite 
 conclusions upon matters in general and in 
 particular ? That is the answer I mean 
 him to have, and that is the answer I shall 
 send him.". 
 
 Roger had been far more struck than he 
 would have cared to confess, with Gilbert's 
 appeal. He felt as if confessing it would 
 impeach his loyalty to his friend, and he 
 was all Michael's — heart and soul. But 
 he was a man with a reasonable head too, 
 and he could not thrust out the feeling,
 
 200 BORDERLAND. 
 
 though he was angry with himself for 
 having it, that Michael was unjust, even 
 though the object of his injustice were so 
 great a sinner as Gilbert. Yesterday, 
 Roger had thought no punishment could 
 be terrible enough for Gilbert and his 
 " sneaking ; " now the punishment was 
 beginning, and he found himself almost 
 ready to plead for mercy for the criminal. 
 
 " Michael," he said, in a low voice, '' have 
 you the right to do it ? " 
 
 '* Yes, I have," replied Michael, his face 
 growing terribly hard and set again. 
 '* Nothing that I do to him now can be 
 wrong." 
 
 Roger paused, looking at his friend. In 
 his mind were the words, '' until seventy 
 times seven," but he had not the courage 
 to utter them. In the abstract, and as a 
 Christian precept and command, doubtless 
 they were right, but Michael was his 
 friend ; Michael had been so fearfully, so 
 stupendously wronged and cheated, and
 
 THE GODDESS OF THE TENDER FEET. 20T 
 
 by his own brother. Was he to plead 
 Gilbert's cause to Michael ? The idea 
 seemed monstrous. Make it right ? What 
 could make right or alter that which he 
 had done, cunningly and secretly, against 
 the brother who had trusted him ? " Put 
 yourself in his place — in Michael's place," 
 said Roger to himself. *' Michael must 
 be right. And yet — what a cursed thing 
 to have reared its head between two 
 brothers ! " 
 
 *' You will do what you — please " (he 
 was going to have said, " what you think 
 right," but he instinctively felt that that 
 would not have been the true expression). 
 *' I know I would give my right hand if 
 it could be different." 
 
 " I know you would, but it never can 
 and never will," said Michael, folding and 
 sealing his letter ; and within a quarter of 
 an hour it was on its way to Thorsgarth. 
 
 " Are you going far to-day ? " the doctor 
 asked Michael at breakfast. He would
 
 202 BORDERLAND. 
 
 have given a good deal If the young man 
 would have professed himself unable to 
 stir, and so would have given him an open- 
 ing for sympathy and condolence. But 
 the young man did nothing of the kind. 
 
 " Yes," he answered at once ; '' a good 
 way. I shall not be back to lunch. I 
 shall get that at the Brydges'. Then I 
 have to eo on to Cotherstone, but I shall 
 be back to dinner ; and then," he added, 
 '' I must really try to get to Balder Hall. 
 It is ao^es since I was there." 
 
 o
 
 ( 203 ) 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 
 
 Soon after breakfast they separated as was 
 their wont. Roger and the doctor came 
 and went as usual, but the November after- 
 noon had grown to darkness before Michael 
 returned, looking pale and fagged from his 
 long ride and hard day s work. Taken 
 as a whole, the patients in and around 
 Bradstane were not a very profitable set. 
 For one rich old lady like Miss Strangforth, 
 said Dr. Rowntree, lingering on as a 
 chronic invalid for years — always wanting 
 attention, and always profoundly grateful 
 for all that her physicians either did or 
 failed to do for her, and paying her bills 
 with a cheque by return of post — for one
 
 204 BORDERLAND. 
 
 treasure like this there were a dozen 
 farmers' wives and daughters, or sordid, 
 unlovely poor in Bridge Street, calling upon 
 the doctor with a frequency and persistency 
 which they would never have dreamed of 
 if they had possessed either the means or 
 the intention of paying him. Others there 
 were, cottagers, labourers, living at immense 
 distances over bad roads, and expecting a 
 great deal of attention in return for very 
 small fees — anything but a profitable 
 clientele — and some of these Michael had 
 been visiting to-day. 
 
 He came in, picked up a note which lay 
 on the hall table waiting for him, which he 
 looked for as if he expected it — ^his dark 
 face lighted for a moment as he took it, 
 for the handwriting was that of Magdalen 
 Wynter — put his head in at the library 
 door, remarking, '' I'm wet through — 
 change my things — down directly," and 
 ran upstairs, shutting his bedroom door 
 after him.
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 205 
 
 '' What a spirit ! " cried the doctor, en- 
 thusiastically. '' What a spirit he has ! 
 He'll get over it yet." 
 
 " Better than his brother will, I think," 
 said Roger, half to himself; and then, 
 gazing into the fire, he wondered what 
 Gilbert was doing, and wished, as he had 
 caught himself wishing more than once that 
 day, that Michael could have seen his way 
 to answer that note of Gilbert's differently. 
 
 By-and-by the gong sounded. Roger 
 and the doctor went into the dining-room. 
 Michael was still upstairs. The soup had 
 been served, and he came not. 
 
 " Go to Mr. Langstroth's door and say 
 everything will be cold, and we are wait- 
 ing for him," said Dr. Rowntree to the 
 serving-maid, who did as she was told, and 
 presently returned, speedily followed by 
 M ichael. 
 
 Roger gave a sharp glance at him, and 
 thought he carried his head very high — 
 higher than usual.
 
 206 BORDERLAND. 
 
 '' Sorry to keep you waiting," he said 
 with an affected, jaunty air, not in the least 
 Hke his usual manner. " I quite forgot 
 how time was going on." 
 
 He laughed as he spoke, and said he 
 was ravenously hungry, but offended the 
 doctor greatly by scarcely touching what 
 was set before him. 
 
 '' What do you mean by saying you are 
 ravenous, and then not eating anything ? " 
 he asked crossly. 
 
 Michael laughed a nervous, forced laugh, 
 and replied — 
 
 " Oh, I must have thought I was 
 hungrier than I really am. I can't eat 
 anything now. These long rides take it 
 out of a fellow in such a way." 
 
 '' Did you have lunch at the Brydges' ? " 
 
 " Yes. They have quite a lot of people 
 staying there. That was one reason why 
 I was so late. After lunch I went with 
 Tom to the stables to see his new hunter. 
 It Is a beauty, too."
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 207 
 
 Roger sat silent, misllking the unusual 
 volubility of Michael's speech and excuses. 
 Michael himself, in the mean time, had gone 
 off on a new tack, and was descrlbino- his 
 adventures at a farmhouse on the moors, 
 and the extraordinary symptoms enu- 
 merated by the mistress of it as requiring 
 his advice. Dr. Rowntree, pleased to see 
 that Michael was what he called "plucking 
 up a bit," did not notice anything forced 
 or unnatural in his manner. Roger's fore- 
 bodings grew every moment darker, and he 
 was thankful when at last they rose from 
 the table and went Into the library. On 
 their way thither, however, he happened 
 to touch Michael's sleeve with his hand, 
 and found that it was wet. 
 
 " Why, man ! " exclaimed he, " you said 
 you were wet through, and you have got 
 on the identical togs that you came in with. 
 What an ass you are, Michael !" he added 
 gently. " Go upstairs and change, right 
 away, or you won't get to Balder Hall 
 to-niofht."
 
 208 BORDERLAND. 
 
 " I'm not going to Balder Hall — I think 
 not," said Michael wearily, as he let Roger 
 push him towards the stairs, up which he 
 began slowly and aimlessly to climb. 
 
 " There's something wrong — something 
 wrong — something wrong," kept ringing 
 through Roger's mind. " And something 
 more than I know of." 
 
 Michael's room was over the study. 
 Roger, listening intently, heard him go into 
 it, move about for a moment, and then all 
 was quiet. He sat with a book in his 
 hand, and waited till his suspense grew 
 almost to agony. At last he could be quiet 
 no longer. He went upstairs and knocked 
 softly at Michael's door. There was no 
 answer. When he had tried once or twice 
 again, he opened the door and went in. 
 The candle burned on the dressing-table. 
 Michael was in a large old easy-chair by 
 the bedside, his head sunk on his breast, 
 his eyes closed, and an open letter droop- 
 ing from his right hand.
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 209 
 
 '' Still in those wet clothes," muttered 
 Roger. " He'll kill himself." 
 
 He went up to him, and touched him on 
 the shoulder. Michael awoke with a start, 
 and looked confusedly around him. 
 
 " Roger ! " he said. " I'm so sleepy. I 
 don't know what's come over me." He 
 seemed to see the letter he held, and 
 went on, in an absent way, "Wasn't it 
 rather too bad of her not to wait till she 
 had seen me ? So long — it's three years 
 since I began to wait for her and work 
 for her. But as soon as she heard the first 
 whisper — well, I did write and tell her 
 what I'd done, and said I would go up and 
 see her to-night, you know — yes, to-night. 
 But she never waited. She flung me off," 
 and he threw out his arms. " She made 
 haste to do it. She must have been glad 
 to do it ! There's something in her letter 
 which says so. See !" He held it out to 
 Roger. "What a lot of disagreeable 
 things you've had to do for me lately ! " he 
 
 VOL. I. . ^4
 
 2IO BORDERLAND. 
 
 went on. '' Good Lord ! how tired I 
 am ! I never was so tired in my life. I 
 can't imagine the reason of it." 
 
 Roger, deferring for a moment his 
 intention of making Michael go to bed, 
 stopped to read the letter, which ran : — 
 
 " My dear Michael, 
 
 " I received your letter this 
 morning, and I am sorry to say I cannot 
 approve of what you have done. Even 
 before I got it, I had been thinking for 
 some time about our engagement, and 
 wondering if it had ever been a wise one. 
 During these three days that you have 
 not been here, I have had ample time 
 to consider the subject. Even if nothing 
 further had happened, I should have 
 written as I now do ; but I do not disguise 
 from you that the manner in which you 
 have yourself cut off every prospect of 
 advancement strengthens my resolution. 
 These things are best done promptly. It 
 saves pain to all concerned.
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 2 I I 
 
 *' As there is now evidently no prospect 
 of our being married within any definite 
 time, I wish our engagement to cease. I 
 desire this both on your account and my 
 own. In addition to the reasons already 
 stated, I do not think it would be for your 
 happiness to continue it, and I am quite 
 sure it would not be for mine. I shall be 
 glad of a line from you when convenient, 
 to say that you consent to my proposal ; 
 and with every wish for your happiness 
 and prosperity, 
 
 '' I remain, 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 
 '* Magdalen Wynter." 
 
 '' There's a specimen of elegant com- 
 position ! " exclaimed Michael, suddenly 
 sitting upright, and laughing harshly. " It 
 could not have been more proper if she 
 had written it at school, and the head 
 governess had corrected it. What a 
 blessed thing it is when people know their 
 own minds, and can command plain
 
 212 BORDERLAND. 
 
 English in which to make them known ! 
 Only it s a pity that they should take three 
 years to learn what they do want, or whom 
 they don't want." He gave a disagree- 
 able little laugh at his own pleasantry, and 
 then rose. "If you'll go down, Roger, I 
 will now change these things, and join you 
 directly. But it's lucky I need not go 
 to Balder Hall, for I feel more and more 
 tired every minute." 
 
 " Take off your things, by all means," 
 said Roger gravely ; " but you must not 
 come down. You must go to bed." 
 
 "To bed!" exclaimed Michael con- 
 temptously. " A man go to bed because 
 he's had a long ride in the wet and cold, 
 and finds rather a chilly letter to greet him 
 on his return ! I am not such an ass." 
 
 But as he spoke, strength seemed to 
 forsake his limbs ; he could not stand any 
 more, but sat down again in the chair by 
 the bedside. 
 
 " Perhaps Askam is sitting with her
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 213 
 
 now. I suppose they will be married," he 
 said, betraying in his sudden weakness 
 what his secret fear had evidently been. 
 " Perhaps she will keep him straight. 
 He needs it, and she has a spirit, though 
 I know Gilbert and my father never 
 
 thought so ; and " 
 
 Here he began to wander in his talk ; 
 was shivering and shaking with cold one 
 moment, burning hot the next. The 
 thorough drenching which he had got 
 after leaving the Brydges' and riding for 
 miles in the teeth of the bitter wind and 
 rain ; the excited condition of his brain 
 over Gilbert's treachery; the reception 
 of Magdalen's letter, with its icy, un- 
 yielding egoism, showing him that all 
 these years her own advantage was what 
 she had been thinking of, and that there 
 was not a spark of love for him in her 
 dull heart; — these things broke through 
 even his magnificent health and strength. 
 He could not shake off the physical chill
 
 2 14 BORDERLAND. 
 
 any more than he could the mental pro- 
 stration. An attack of a tedious, wearing 
 low fever reduced him to perfect physical 
 weakness and docility ; but far worse than 
 the fever was the accompanying mental 
 gloom, the result of the shock to the 
 nervous system. The young man, shut up 
 in his room, too weak in body to move 
 and shake off his demon visitant, went 
 through all the horrors of a complete 
 nervous break- down, and made intimate 
 acquaintance with all its attendant crew 
 of ghastly shades — those pallid ghosts 
 which assemble and gibber and mouth at 
 us when we have so imposed upon those 
 hard-worked servants, nerves and brain, 
 as to have rendered them for the time 
 powerless to answer to our imperious 
 demands. Exhausted, they sink down, 
 and say to us, " We can no more," and then 
 we are at the mercy of every shadow, 
 every whisper, every vain imagining and 
 thought of horror.
 
 THE PROCESS OF ANNEALING. 2 1$ 
 
 Michael Langstroth, with his superb 
 constitution and youth and temperance 
 to back him, and with the devoted nursin<'- 
 of two such friends as Roger and the 
 doctor, was in the course of a few weeks 
 restored to comparative strength. Gradu- 
 ally the shade and ghosts, the bats and 
 owls that haunt the dark places of the 
 human mind, retired before gathering 
 physical strength. Things were gone 
 that could never be restored — hopes, joys, 
 faiths, enthusiasms ; things which had 
 once seemed all-Important, appeared now 
 almost too insignificant for notice. Under 
 Roger's eyes was the process accom- 
 plished which in his bhndness he had 
 long ago wished for his friend. He was 
 made into a man : going into the valley 
 of the shadow a youth, for all his six 
 and twenty years, his bone, and his muscle, 
 and his brain ; coming out of it alive, sane, 
 whole, if weak, but stripped of every super- 
 riuous hope, confidence, or youthfulness.
 
 2 1 6 BORDERLAND. 
 
 It was November when he went, to his 
 room that night ; it was the very end of 
 December when he came out of it, a 
 hollow-eyed spectre enough. And it was 
 a month later still when Dr. Rowntree 
 carried him down to Hastings one day, 
 returning himself the next, and leaving 
 his adopted son there to recruit. 
 
 So ended Michael Langstroth's youth, 
 as a tale that is told.
 
 ( 217 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 OTHO'S LETTER-BAG. 
 
 A November morning, five years later. 
 The sky gray and brooding, the trees still 
 and leafless. Everything outside be- 
 tokened the drear season of the year, and 
 even the trimly kept lawns of Thorsgarth 
 could not give brightness to this mood of 
 Nature and the time o' day. 
 
 Within, in a small room which he 
 generally used for breakfasting, Otho 
 Askam stood on the hearthrug, with his 
 burly back turned towards a large fire. 
 A letter was in his hand, to which he 
 seemed to pay more attention than it was 
 usually his habit to give to his corre-
 
 2l8 BORDERLAND. 
 
 spondence, for he turned It about, and 
 perused it often. What are the changes 
 which five years may have wrought in 
 his traits, or how many of them have 
 become strengthened and accentuated 
 during that time ? 
 
 He would seem, outwardly considered, 
 to have gained something, both in breadth 
 and solidity, without having in any way 
 weakened or deteriorated. The lines 
 were as sturdy, as burly as before. The 
 expression of his countenance was dis- 
 tinctly imperious, even more imperious 
 than of yore. As he stood there, the 
 letter in one hand, the other impatiently 
 smoothing the hair on his upper lip — a 
 dark line only, which seemed to accentuate 
 the sullenness of his face, without hiding 
 or softening a single harsh trait or feature 
 — as he stood there his countenance was a 
 dangerous-looking one ; the expression or 
 atmosphere which radiated from the man 
 was not that of sincerity. In repose he
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 219 
 
 had the old fierceness of expression — what- 
 ever mental or moral change might have 
 taken place, that old look remained ; and 
 when he raised his dark eyes and lifted 
 his head, there was the same breathless, 
 hunted, or hunting look about him, as in 
 the days of his very young -manhood there 
 had been. 
 
 He was alone, and had just finished 
 breakfast. At his feet sat a dignified 
 Skye terrier, somewhat advanced in years, 
 and with the self-conscious aspect of a 
 doe which has Iouq- been made much of 
 by human beings, so that at last it has 
 come to feel convinced that all their 
 actions, words, and movements have some 
 reference to it and its doings. It gazed 
 up into Otho's face and watched his 
 gestures, and when he spoke to it, it 
 seemed pleased. Animals, even if they 
 have that keen discernment as to the 
 virtue or vice of the beings by whom they 
 are surrounded, with which some persons
 
 2 20 BORDERLAND. 
 
 credit them, can conceal their likes and 
 dislikes, for their own purposes, quite as 
 cleverly as the men and women they live 
 with — at least, sophisticated and humanized 
 dogs, like this highly educated Pounser, 
 can. 
 
 Looking out of the window, one saw 
 the drear season of the year plainly 
 written upon the outward aspect of 
 things. November, sad November, but 
 the November of the country, and not 
 of the town. In southern places, and 
 more favoured spots, trees might still be 
 covered with fiery autumn tints ; but here 
 every leaf had dropped, and upon the 
 black and sodden-looking boughs and 
 twigs hung a damp, clammy dew, and 
 the grass was hoar and gray with the 
 same. The sky was leaden ; not a branch 
 stirred. From here one could see where 
 the ground sloped towards the river, but 
 one could not see the stream itself. The 
 room was warm ; the house was quiet ;
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 221 
 
 the master was vexed — so much was 
 plainly to be read on his face. And so 
 much was audible from his lips too, as 
 he ejaculated in a wrathful tone — 
 
 " Beastly folly — and a beastly nuisance, 
 too ! " 
 
 And the cause of his vexation, the letter 
 he held in his hand. It is easy to read 
 over his shoulder, and follow the lines, as 
 he peruses it a third time, with the result, 
 apparently, of increasing his first exaspe- 
 ration. 
 
 " Brinswell, L- 
 
 " Dear Otho, 
 
 '' It is a very long time since you 
 wrote to me, — longer than usual. As for 
 your ever coming to see me, I have long 
 ago given up that expectation as a wild 
 delusion. Are you ' busy ' ? Country 
 gentlemen usually are, from what I hear ; 
 and from what I've seen I should say 
 they work very hard to make believe they
 
 2 22 BORDERLAND. 
 
 have more to do than they know how to 
 manage. 
 
 " I wonder if you have reaHzed that I 
 was twenty-two on my last birthday ? 
 I don't suppose you have ever given a 
 thought to the subject. At least, I missed 
 your usual kind remembrance of me, on 
 the occasion." [''What the dickens does 
 she mean ? I've never been in the habit 
 of sending her birthday presents ! "] 
 
 "Well, it is of no use wasting words 
 over things. I wish to explain my situa- 
 tion and intentions to you. Since Aunt 
 Emily's death, six months ago. Uncle 
 Robert has been quite broken up, and he 
 doesn't seem to get any better. It is a 
 fearful loss to him. No one knew — of the 
 world at large, I mean — how much they 
 Avere bound up in each other, and how 
 fearfully he misses her. After trying 
 everything in the way of staying at home 
 and keeping quiet, the doctors have 
 advised a long voyage and a complete
 
 OTHO S LETTER-BAG. 2 2-* 
 
 o 
 
 change. It has been decided to close 
 Brinswell for a year at least, and he and 
 Paul will set out on their travels in a 
 week or two. I think they will visit 
 Australia first, as they seem to think the 
 long voyage will do him good, and they 
 talk about India and America before they 
 return — medicine for a troubled mind. 
 Poor Uncle Robert ! He agrees to all, 
 and says he knows he is morbid. It seems 
 to be thought very morbid nowadays if 
 you have a grief that's past the healing 
 for six months, even though it be your 
 dearest in the whole world that has gone 
 from you. 
 
 " I am not going with Uncle Robert and 
 Paul. If it had been a shorter journey, I 
 might have done so. I should have liked 
 immensely to go to America, for instance. 
 But this is different. Paul, of course, goes 
 with him, because it would be outrageous 
 to think of his o-oino;- alone ; but the doctor, 
 and Paul too, say he should not be sur-
 
 2 24 BORDERLAND. 
 
 rounded by too many of his own family, 
 as the object is entire change. They both 
 think it better for me not to go ; and I 
 shall do as they think fit. It is very sad 
 every way. 
 
 ''Very sad, It Is — so sad that I feel 
 myself a little heartless, because I can't 
 help being rather glad that I shall leave 
 here, and at last make acquaintance with 
 my own home and my own brother. You 
 do not know how often I have wished to 
 do so. I am glad I shall see my birth- 
 place and my north-country home ; very 
 glad I shall see you. And will not you 
 say you will be glad to see me, dear Otho ? 
 It Is years since I have seen you, and 
 it seems unnatural that it should be so. 
 Will you come down and fetch me, or are 
 you too busy ? I propose to leave here 
 a week from to-day. Let me know 
 about It. 
 
 " There Is one other thing that I feel 
 I must mention to you, which makes me
 
 OTHO S LETTER-BAG. 225 
 
 very glad to be leaving here. About six 
 months ago, Mr. Mowbray — you know, he 
 is the rector of the next parish ; the Hon. 
 and Rev. Percy Mowbray — proposed to 
 me. Poor Aunt Emily was very anxious 
 for me to marry him, but it was a sheer, 
 
 utter impossibility. Poor Aunt E ! 
 
 Mr. Mowbray is rich, I believe, and of 
 very good family, but I have never liked 
 him, and I could not think of it for a 
 moment. It was very painful to me to 
 find how annoyed she was with me, even 
 to the last. And of course Mr. Mowbray 
 ceased to visit here, though I had to meet 
 him sometimes. Altogether, it will be a 
 great relief to me in every way, to get to 
 Bradstane for a time. Now you are ac- 
 quainted with all my reasons for wishing 
 to come to you, and with my plans too, 
 for the present. Send me a line soon, 
 and believe me, 
 
 '' Your affectionate Sister, 
 
 " Eleanor Askam." 
 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 2 26 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Otho flung the letter upon the table 
 with temper. 
 
 '' Why the d — 1 could not she marry the 
 fellow ? " he muttered angrily, looking 
 darkly at Pounser, who slightly moved his 
 tail and elevated his ears with a sigh, as 
 if he too wondered why — why she could 
 not have married the fellow. 
 
 *' What could she wish for more ? A 
 girl in her position ought to take the first 
 opportunity that offers — good, of course — 
 of settling herself in life. And I'm sure 
 old Aunt Emily knew what she was about. 
 No one keener on family and money in 
 the world. If she wanted the match so 
 badly, I'll go bail it was a good one. Of 
 course she must marry — girls like her 
 always must marry — and of course she 
 can't go and marry a nobody. What a 
 fool she must be ! One would think she 
 was not all there. Not that I should 
 think the parson and I should have hit 
 it off very well as brothers-in-law." He
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 22 7 
 
 gave a short little laugh. " A thundering 
 mistake, that will," he went on within him- 
 self. " Such wills have no business to be 
 made." 
 
 This reflection referred to a clause in 
 his fathers will, providing that Otho's 
 sister, so long as he and she both remained 
 unmarried, was entitled to a home at 
 Thorsgarth whenever she chose to inhabit 
 it. In the event of his marriage, there 
 remained for her the Dower House, which 
 indeed was hers for her life if she re- 
 mained unmarried — an old stone house 
 in the square, not far from the Red 
 Gables.' 
 
 " I can't stop it, I suppose. It is a 
 beastly nuisance, if ever there was one. 
 As for going to fetch her, I shall do no 
 such thing. Go nearly three hundred 
 miles to fetch back some one I don't 
 want ? Not I ! ... And what can I do 
 with her when I get her here ? Good 
 Lord ! why must women be so stupid ?
 
 2 28 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Such sentimental nonsense ! Because I 
 am her brother — bah ! There's that whey- 
 faced Paul Stanley, her cousin, looking as 
 if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth — she's 
 known him all her life, and he has been 
 far more of a brother to her than I have." 
 
 Otho felt vindictive, realizing what a 
 grievous thing it was that he should have 
 to be anybody's brother. 
 
 " The goings on in this house won't suit 
 her at all," he reflected, getting more and 
 more savage the longer he thought about 
 it. "It has been a bachelor's house all 
 these years, and it has come to something 
 if I'm to turn everything topsy-turvy for a 
 chit of a girl like that. Dogs and horses 
 and men, and tobacco and wine and cards 
 — what will she do amidst it all ? And 
 what shall I do with her ? " 
 
 He stopped muttering from sheer blank- 
 ness of mind on the subject, still fiercely 
 stroking his upper lip, till after a time a 
 look of relief, though of very ill-tempered
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 229 
 
 relief at the best, came over his face, as he 
 thought — 
 
 " I suppose I must go and tell Magdalen 
 about it. She'll be able to suggest some- 
 thing. I'll go this morning, before I answer 
 this confounded letter. Whew — w — w ! " 
 
 He blew out a kind of ill-tempered sigh, 
 and Pounser wagged his tail in visible and 
 exceeding satisfaction. 
 
 Then Otho picked up another letter — 
 short and, as it would seem, sweet, to him 
 at least, for his countenance relaxed 
 visibly. 
 
 " That's well. It will be rather a relief 
 to have him here if she comes. He knows 
 what is the right thing to do when there 
 are petticoats on the premises. I don't." 
 
 Then he rang the bell, ordered the 
 breakfast-things to be taken away, and 
 said he wanted his horse at eleven. 
 
 * * 4. * * 
 
 Soon after twelve Otho rode up to 
 Balder Hall, was admitted to Miss Wyn
 
 230 BORDERLAND. 
 
 ter s boudoir, and proceeded to unfold his 
 troubles to her. 
 
 She had received him with the tran- 
 quillity which had always been the chief 
 characteristic of her demeanour, and which 
 seemed neither to have increased nor 
 diminished with years ; heard all that he 
 had to say ; and finally, when he pulled 
 Eleanor's letter out of his pocket, and 
 said, "See for yourself what she says," 
 Magdalen took the letter, opened it de- 
 liberately, and as deliberately read it. She 
 had never heard much about Otho's sister ; 
 she was not a woman to talk to men about 
 their feminine relatives, and Otho had 
 always been glad to ignore his sisters 
 existence as much as possible. This sud- 
 denly announced coming of Miss Askam 
 took Magdalen by surprise. She had no 
 time to decide whether it would best suit 
 her views that they should be friends or 
 enemies, but the letter would possibly give 
 her a valuable glimpse into the writer's
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 23 I 
 
 mind, perhaps even into her character, 
 written as it was confidentially to an only 
 brother. As to the question whether it 
 was honourable or not to read such a 
 letter, Miss Wynter was exactly the 
 woman to say, if any one had raised such 
 a scruple, " Why, Otho gave it me ! " Go 
 to! she might have been credited with 
 saying — the keeping one's own integrity 
 is enough work for any person, without 
 telling others when they appear to be 
 losing theirs. 
 
 " Ah," said she, when she had finished 
 the letter, '' it is quite obvious why she 
 wants to come. I did not know your 
 sister was twenty-two, Otho. Indeed, I 
 hardly realized that you had a sister." 
 
 '* No more did I, till she went and did 
 this," said Otho resentfully. 
 
 '' And you would rather she did not 
 come r 
 
 '' Much rather. But it's no use thinking 
 of keeping her away. I'm not going to
 
 232 BORDERLAND. 
 
 try. She has got the right to come, by 
 my father's will, and to stay as long as she 
 likes, till one of us gets married. I can't 
 prevent it. The thing is, I don't know 
 what to do with her when I get her here." 
 
 ** Well, if you make it very pleasant for 
 her, of course she'll want to stay." 
 
 Otho nodded. " Of course." 
 
 *'And if you upset all your habits, and 
 make great changes on her account, then 
 she will think you want her to stay, which 
 would be quite a false impression." 
 
 " I never thought of that." 
 
 *' Of course not ; only it seems such a 
 very obvious thing. Perhaps that is why 
 it never occurred to you." 
 
 '' Now come, none of your chaff What 
 I thought of was, that it's simply im- 
 possible for a girl like that to settle down 
 in a house full of my ways. I must do 
 something, and what to do I don't know. 
 I wanted your advice." 
 
 " And pray what right have you to my
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 233 
 
 advice ? Why should I interfere between 
 you and your sister ? I might tell you 
 it is a just retribution on you for having 
 alienated yourself systematically from all 
 such ties. You demand my advice as if 
 you were a highwayman requiring my 
 watch and purse." 
 
 Otho fidgeted and fumbled, h'mmed and 
 had. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Magdalen. I 
 thought I had the right— of having asked 
 before, and received advice, you know. 
 And you know I always do come to you 
 when I am in trouble." 
 
 ** Oh yes ; I know you do." 
 
 '' Would you please tell me what I had 
 better do ? " 
 
 '' Is she good-looking?" asked Magdalen. 
 
 '' Oh no ! " said Otho, promptly. " She 
 has red hair and freckles." 
 
 Magdalen glanced at Otho's own dark 
 traits, and said, '' Now, Otho ! " 
 
 '' Upon my soul and honour she has ;
 
 234 BORDERLAND. 
 
 and one of those faces that flush up all 
 over, without a minute's warning. I never 
 could see the sense of those faces. She 
 goes into raptures, you know, and cries 
 and laughs about things — at least, she did 
 when I saw her. In fact, though she's 
 been at college somewhere, and is a com- 
 plete blue — reads Homer, and all such 
 bosh — I thought her a regular baby. 
 She's got rather a dashing figure," he 
 added musingly, '' but I swear to you, 
 Magdalen, she is 7io^ good-looking." 
 
 '' But why, then, does this clergyman 
 want to marry her ? A man of wealth, 
 family, and position ? I know quite well 
 who he is. They are very first-rate people 
 down there." 
 
 " Bah ! She has twelve hundred a year 
 of her own, to do what she likes with. 
 Whoever heard of a parson, rich or poor, 
 that could rise above such a thing as 
 that?" said Otho, with brutality. ''And 
 then, all places are not like Bradstane.
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 235 
 
 They may like blues and freckles down 
 there ... As for his being a man of 
 wealth, family, and position, you might say 
 that of me;" and he laughed cynically. 
 '' She's as good as he is, any day." 
 
 '' Yes," said Magdalen gendy. *' She 
 is your sister." She took up her work. 
 " It seems to me that you are making a 
 great fuss about nothing. Why make any 
 difference at all for her ? Thorsgarth is 
 your house, not hers, though she has the 
 right to live there, under present circum- 
 stances. It is large enough in all con- 
 science. Half a dozen families might live 
 there, and hardly ever meet in the 
 passages. Give her a sitting-room for 
 herself, and tell her you are sorry that 
 your business doesn't leave you time to 
 see very much of her. It will not be long 
 before she finds out what a dull place 
 Bradstane is, and I do not think she will 
 care to remain in it very long, especially 
 with such a sympathetic brother."
 
 236 BORDERLAND. 
 
 " You are a gem ! " he said admiringly. 
 
 " And bring her up to see me as soon 
 as you can, after she comes." 
 
 " The next afternoon, If it's fine," he 
 said eagerly. 
 
 '' Yes, the next afternoon, if you like. 
 It will make no difference to me." 
 
 Then, as if she had had enough of the 
 subject, she returned the letter to him, 
 and asked, '' Is there no meet to-day ? " 
 
 " No. We got word last night that 
 there wouldn't be. I'm ofoinor down to 
 Bradstane just now, to the works. By the 
 way, I had a letter from Gilbert, too, this 
 morning. He's coming down for Christ- 
 mas, as usual." 
 
 " Oh, he never fails you." 
 
 " No ; he never does. I must take 
 care not to bring him up here while his 
 brother is on the premises. When does 
 he come, now ? " 
 
 '' I know nothing about it. Sometimes 
 at one hour, sometimes at another. And
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 237 
 
 the surest way to bring about a collision is 
 to take so much care to avoid one. As if 
 there were not room for Gilbert and him 
 in the house without dodging in that 
 stupid way ! " 
 
 '' That's all very fine, but accidents will 
 happen. Suppose they were to meet, after 
 all, and have a shindy." 
 
 " A shindy ! Really, Otho, you exas- 
 perate me. In the first place, though you 
 might, and probably would, make a shindy 
 under such circumstances, you ought to 
 know that they would never make one 
 under any circumstances. And if they 
 wished to, ever so, would they dare, before 
 me ?" 
 
 " Whew — w ! " murmured Otho, under 
 his breath ; and then aloud — 
 
 " It seems as if all I said offended you 
 this morning, Magdalen. However, I'll 
 be more good-natured than you, and say 
 thank you for your advice, which I shall 
 follow. I must be off now."
 
 238 BORDERLAND. 
 
 He got up and stood before her, hold- 
 ing out his hand. Magdalen surveyed 
 him in the same cold, direct manner, as 
 before. It was her old calm, almost 
 expressionless gaze, but the eyes which 
 had once been soft and velvety were now 
 hard. She said good morning to him in 
 a very indifferent way, and rang the bell. 
 Otho left the room and went downstairs. 
 
 His inventive genius was apparently 
 not great. He carried out her advice 
 or instructions, whichever it might have 
 been, almost to the letter. Without wait- 
 ing to go to the works, he first of all called 
 in at Thorsgarth, and while his horse 
 waited, sat down and wrote a short letter 
 to his sister, saying that he would meet 
 her at the station if she would let him 
 know by what train to expect her ; that 
 he was sorry to say he was quite too much 
 engaged to travel down to the New Forest 
 to bring her to Thorsgarth. He was afraid 
 she would find Bradstane insufferably dull
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 239 
 
 after the social life to which she had been 
 accustomed. With regard to the parson, 
 he added, with characteristic want of finish 
 in his style, he thought it a pity that she 
 had not seen her way to taking him, as 
 the match seemed in every way a good 
 one, but he could hear all about that when 
 they met, and so he was her affectionate 
 Brother, Otho Askam. 
 
 Then he ranor the bell and desired to 
 see the housekeeper ; and when she 
 arrived upon the scene, he gave his orders 
 with the brevity and authority of a great 
 general, and of course Mrs. Sparkes could 
 not know that the said orders had origi- 
 nated with Magdalen Wynter. It was 
 decided that some south rooms — " the late 
 Mrs. Askam's suite," said Mrs. Sparkes — 
 were to be prepared for Eleanor. 
 
 " Yes," said Otho, with an uneasy feel- 
 ing that, since he proposed to leave his 
 sister considerably to her own society, it 
 behoved him to look to her personal com-
 
 240 BORDERLAND. 
 
 fort as much as possible. " And see that 
 they are made nice — aired, you know, and 
 to look — a — bright, and all that." 
 
 " Oh, sir, the rooms will not need much 
 doing to them. It's not my system to be 
 taken by surprise," said Mrs. Sparkes, 
 with a lofty smile. 
 
 ''Isn't It?" said Otho, with a kind of 
 brusque facetlousness which had Its effect 
 in making him popular with some of his 
 dependents. '' I wish I knew how you 
 managed to avoid it. This affair — Miss 
 Askam's coming, has taken me very much 
 by surprise." 
 
 *' Oh, I didn't mean that exactly, sir," 
 said Mrs. Sparkes, pleased at the con- 
 fidence reposed in her. " There's some 
 things can't be provided for, but / meant 
 things in general." 
 
 " Ah ! well, you'll remember what I said," 
 remarked Otho ; and Mrs. Sparkes bowed 
 herself out. 
 
 Then he called for his horse again, and
 
 OTHOS LETTER-BAG. 24 1 
 
 set off for his long-delayed visit to the 
 Townend Mills. It need hardly be said 
 that these calls were wholly perfunctory. 
 Gilbert, from his London office, gave the 
 orders, and Roger Camm in his Bradstane 
 one carried them out. Otho had a plea- 
 sure in calling and looking round now and 
 then, because he knew how Michael and 
 Sir Thomas Winthrop hated the Bradstane 
 Jute Co., Limited, and that Roger Camm 
 hated him, Otho, the man who had found 
 the money for it. The conclusion to 
 which he had come by the time that he 
 halted in the mill-yard was that, having 
 settled all things, he had now just one 
 week of liberty before him, and, putting 
 his sister from his mind, he resolved to 
 think no more about her until her arrival 
 should force him to do so. 
 
 VOL I. 16
 
 242 BORDERLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ELEANOR. 
 
 Otho's week of freedom was over. His 
 sister had come, and on the day following 
 her arrival, in the afternoon, she rode with 
 him through Bradstane town towards 
 Balder Hall. 
 
 Any one who could have seen her, even 
 in the gray and mournful November light, 
 would have seen a very beautiful young 
 woman. She was tall, and had an ad- 
 mirable figure, full of grace and strength. 
 No feeble development here, nor niggard 
 traits, nor look of feeble spine or over- 
 sensitive nerves. Whatever the intellect 
 within that beautiful head, its outward case
 
 ELEANOR. 243 
 
 was not one to find fault with. Her fea- 
 tures were not very regular ; harmonious, 
 though, In their very Irregularity. A soft, 
 ivory-white complexion, as healthy as 
 many a ruddy one ; and with this com- 
 plexion, the red-brown hair and lambent, 
 tawny eyes which sometimes accompany 
 It. Her eyebrows were much darker than 
 either her hair or her eyes ; and she had a 
 large mouth, but a beautiful one — beautiful 
 because of its smile in mirth and of its 
 expression In repose. 
 
 There was a vague, indefinite family 
 likeness between her and the fierce-looking 
 Otho. Where It lay, in what exactly it 
 consisted. It would have been impossible 
 to say, but It was there, though It was 
 slight, and perhaps more easily to be de- 
 tected when they were apart than when 
 they were together ; that is, seeing one of 
 them alone, an observer might have 
 thought, '' How like her brother" or "his 
 sister ! " And yet, had the other one
 
 244 BORDERLAND. 
 
 appeared, and the faces been compared, 
 none could have discerned any resemblance. 
 During the first part of their ride they 
 were both somewhat silent. She was 
 looking about her with quick, keen glances, 
 speaking an observant eye. Otho was 
 wondering what Magdalen would say to 
 him, what he could say to her, at a later 
 time, when he, after his offhand description 
 of the other day, had to introduce to her 
 this beautiful creature now riding with him. 
 Eleanor, while making her observations 
 on the town and the surroundings, was 
 also occupied in thinking things over. 
 It was a fact, she told herself with some 
 mortification, that Otho and she were 
 strangers to each other. It seemed that 
 absence, and long separation, and the in- 
 fluence of utterly diverse lives and habits 
 did produce that strangeness, even between 
 brother and sister. Her Aunt Emily, in 
 some of their talks, had told her that this 
 would be the case, and she had said laugh-
 
 ELEANOR. 245 
 
 Ingly that she would defy her brother to 
 be a stranorer to her, or to make a stranorer 
 of her. She had felt very strong ; she 
 felt very strong now. That was her chief 
 feeling, when she thought about herself at 
 all — strength of soul and body, and a 
 happy confidence that truth is great and 
 will prevail. 
 
 Yet this had not been such a joyful 
 home-coming as it ought to have been. 
 In all confidence she had set out to find 
 the home which she had only twice visited, 
 each time for a day or two, on some tour 
 with her guardians, since, at six years of 
 age, she had been brought away by her 
 Aunt Emily, a motherless and fatherless 
 child. Those visits had both been paid 
 while she was still under fourteen, before 
 Otho had left college and taken possession. 
 Otho was six years her senior, and had 
 pursued his public school course and got 
 through his college career while she was 
 yet in the schoolroom and in short frocks.
 
 246 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Occasionally, when he had been in town, 
 or anywhere near them, he had paid her 
 a flying visit ; had once, when they had 
 been in the Highlands, spent a few days 
 with them, to shoot grouse with his uncle 
 and cousin Paul. On these occasions he 
 had told her that she grew a fine girl 
 (fancying it was a nice kind of thing to say 
 to a sister, though when he said " fine " he 
 meant " tall," and had taken so little real 
 notice of her, that he had spoken in all 
 good faith when describing her to Mag- 
 dalen the week before). And he had 
 uniformly discouraged the idea of her 
 coming to live at Thorsgarth (it had never 
 been seriously broached before), saying, 
 whenever allusion had been made to such 
 a thing, " Oh, you will never want a home 
 there. You will be married before that." 
 
 But Eleanor had not married, and she 
 had come to Thorsgarth to make her home 
 there. 
 
 '' Is this all the town there is, Otho ?''
 
 ELEANOR. 247 
 
 she asked suddenly, as they emerged from 
 the street into the open road. '' I've 
 almost forgotten it. What an odd little, 
 gray, weather-beaten place it is ! Not a 
 bit like the south." 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 '' I feel as if I'd never been here, and I 
 hardly ever meet any one who has. It 
 looks bleak here ; that's what I mean." 
 
 "Well, it is," said Otho, vexed with such 
 a persistent talk about the looks of a place. 
 As if it mattered what Bradstane looked 
 like ! '' And it's November, too. You 
 can't expect roses in November." 
 
 " But I've always had them. There 
 were Dijon roses growing over the south 
 walls at Brinswell when I left. You re- 
 member Brinswell, Otho ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do ; and a dull hole it was." 
 
 " Not any duller than Thorsgarth, I 
 should fancy. It was as lovely a place 
 as ever I saw. We were more there and 
 less in London the last few years. Of
 
 248 BORDERLAND. 
 
 course I like London, but I never felt dull 
 at Brinswell. What fruit and flowers ! 
 Of course, things can't grow here as they 
 did there. The trees look so small and 
 stunted." 
 
 '' Small ! Why, the Bradstane ash trees 
 are noted all through the country-side." 
 
 " Well, yes, the ash trees. They are 
 
 fine. But, of course, they ought to be." 
 
 And she hummed to herself — 
 
 " Oh, the oak, and the ash, and the bonny ivy tree, 
 They grow the best at home in the north countrie." 
 
 *' At home," she added, half to herself. 
 " This is the north countrie, and this is my 
 home, after all. It's a shame I don't know 
 it better. Wherever you look," she added, 
 addressing him directly again, " you seem 
 to see a blue wall in the distance. Otho, 
 does any one ever get as far as those blue 
 walls ? " And she pointed towards the 
 north-west, where Mickle Fell and his 
 brethren loomed high. 
 
 '' Blue walls ! " repeated Otho, embar-
 
 FXEANOR. 249 
 
 rassed by the application of such terms to 
 the moors, which to him represented so 
 many acres of good shooting, and those 
 in another direction stabHng for another 
 hobby of his, of which Eleanor was as yet 
 unaware. " How you talk ! Those that 
 you are pointing to are the fells on the 
 Westmoreland border, and those other 
 ones, to the south, are the Swaledale 
 moors." 
 
 " Swaledale moors ? But one can get 
 over them, I suppose. What is there on 
 the other side ? " 
 
 " More moors and more dales. It's 
 bleak enough there, if you like. There's 
 some good shootiftg, though." 
 
 " I should like to see what there is at 
 the other side," said Eleanor, her eyes 
 fixed dreamily on the moors. Then, as 
 they turned a bend in the road, '' Is it far 
 to this place you are taking me to ? " 
 
 *' Only about another three-quarters of 
 a mile."
 
 250 BORDERLAND. 
 
 '' This Miss Wynter — Is she a very old 
 friend of yours ? " asked Eleanor uncon- 
 sciously. " I don't ever remember to have 
 heard you speak of her." 
 
 " Oh yes, you have," said Otho, with 
 effrontery ; " but you've very likely for- 
 gotten. She is my only friend — amongst 
 the women, that is." 
 
 '' Ah ! an elderly woman ? " 
 
 " About my own — well, she's a year or 
 so older than I am." 
 
 " Oh ! An invalid, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Why the What on earth makes 
 
 you think she should be an invalid ? " 
 
 " If she is neither old nor ill, I can't 
 understand why I am being taken to 
 see her. What should prevent her from 
 coming to call upon me, in the usual order 
 of things ? " 
 
 Otho was embarrassed, and annoyed 
 too. This extremely simple question of 
 Eleanor's showed him, in a sudden flash, 
 that Magdalen's behaviour was not exactly
 
 ELEANOR. 251 
 
 courteous. Stealing a side-glance at his 
 sister, he realized that when she came 
 to meet Magdalen, she might consider 
 the latter had been insolent in her pre- 
 tensions. Eleanor, to use his own phrase, 
 knew what was what, every bit as well as 
 Magdalen did. Free and natural though 
 her manner was, he had known enough 
 of his Aunt Emily to be aware that no 
 one brought up by her could remain in 
 ignorance as to any social usages. In his 
 haste to bring Magdalen's influence into 
 the field, he had made a mistake, and she 
 probably did not care whether Eleanor 
 were offended or no. All he could say to 
 get himself out of his difficulty was — 
 
 '' We're a neighbourly lot here, when we 
 do happen to be friends. You'll be dis- 
 appointed if you expect to find London 
 etiquette at Bradstane." 
 
 " I dare say," said she, with a light laugh. 
 '' I've generally found country etiquette 
 far more burdensome than etiquette in
 
 252 BORDERLAND. 
 
 London. That was partly what made me 
 wonder. However, people do get a little 
 rusty in their manners, I dare say, when 
 they live in one small set," Eleanor con- 
 cluded serenely ; but there was a sparkle 
 in her eye as she spoke. Her curiosity 
 as to this Miss Wynter was aroused. 
 
 Otho burst into a shoijt laugh, as he 
 heard this speech, thinking within himself, 
 '' I'll keep that for Magdalen, and treat 
 her to it when she's pulling me up, some 
 day. Upon my word, this girl is enough 
 to make most others look rusty." 
 
 " Miss Wynter is your only friend 
 among the women, you say," pursued 
 Eleanor in flute-like tones. '' How is 
 that ? Don't you like the ladies about 
 here ? " 
 
 Otho's expression of countenance, on 
 hearing this question, was worthy of study. 
 Eleanor saw it, and averted her face. 
 She had already accurately gauged one 
 phase of Otho's character. He was in-
 
 ELEANOR. 253 
 
 wardly perturbed just now. His troubles 
 were beginning already. Here was this 
 girl evidently under the impression that 
 he was hand-in-glove with all the ordinary 
 society of the place. How was he to 
 explain to her exactly how things stood 
 between him and Magdalen Wynter ? 
 He knew he (jDuld not, in any way that 
 should seem plausible to one brought up 
 like her. He was bored at having to 
 explain at all, and in his vexation took 
 refuge in some sweeping general state- 
 ments. 
 
 " Like the ladies about here ? No, 
 I don't. And that is one reason why I 
 knew you would be awfully dull if you 
 came here. You see, it has suited my 
 tastes not to go much into the society 
 here — in fact, hardly at all ; and they have 
 just begun to understand it at last, and 
 to let me alone — give over inviting me, 
 ^nd all that. So you won't find it very 
 lively. But Magdalen is different. I've
 
 254 BORDERLAND. 
 
 known her ever since I came here. We 
 were thick at the very first, and have 
 stuck together ever since, because she's 
 so reasonable and sensible. As for the 
 others " — he spoke with solemnity — " they 
 are one half sharks and the other half 
 fools. There's no such thing as meeting 
 a girl, and trying to ha^je a friendship 
 with her, before you go any further. 
 Your sex, my dear, are incapable of 
 friendship with a man. Either they try 
 to make him in love with them, and 
 make his existence miserable, or they 
 fall in love with him themselves — or think 
 they do ; it's much of a muchness — and 
 if he don't respond they say he has 
 deceived them, or trifled with them, or 
 something equally absurd. Suppose you 
 see a nice girl, or a girl that you think 
 looks nice. Well, you have a head on 
 your shoulders, and you know she may 
 be a shrew, for all her pleasantness, just 
 as a horse may be a screw, though he
 
 ELEANOR. 255 
 
 looks all right. You think it worth while 
 to try and know her a bit better, before 
 you risk anything. You can't do it. 
 You may not do it. It is their one object 
 to get you to marry them without giving 
 you any opportunity to know anything 
 about them. You never get to know 
 their real thoughts about any one thing 
 on earth. You must run the gauntlet of 
 their mothers and sisters to get even a 
 word with them. It isn't fair ; it's deuced 
 hard. Why are you to show up every- 
 thing, and be slanged if you don't do it 
 all on the square, while they are not to 
 have any questions asked at all ? The 
 sisters are bad enough, especially if you 
 are sweet on a younger one, but the 
 mothers — oh. Lord ! Those mothers ! If 
 you do but look at one of their precious 
 girls, they are down upon you to know 
 your ' intentions.' I say, a man has a 
 right to ask questions in his turn — if their 
 tempers are all right, if they're sound in
 
 256 BORDERLAND. 
 
 wind and limb, and so on. I bolt if I see 
 one of those mothers within " 
 
 He was interrupted by a peal of laughter. 
 Eleanor had contained herself as long as 
 she could, but at each higher flight of 
 Otho's sombre eloquence it had been more 
 and more difficult to keep her gravity. 
 Now it was impossible. She gave free 
 vent to her mirth, and bent to her saddle- 
 bow in her merriment. 
 
 " Oh, Otho ! " she ejaculated at last, 
 turning a face quivering with laughter to 
 him, and eyes dancing behind tears of 
 amusement. He looked at her in speech- 
 less astonishment, and then by degrees 
 manacred to take in the fact that she 
 was lauehino^ at him — at his solemn and 
 withering denunciation of the man-traps set 
 for the unwary in social life. He did not 
 remember such a thing to have happened 
 to him before, and he was stunned by the 
 shock. 
 
 •' Poor dear Otho ! " she said, between
 
 ELEANOR. 257 
 
 new bursts of merriment. " What a life 
 you must have led, with all these women 
 trying to entrap you ! No wonder you 
 are reserved and sad ! No wonder you 
 have retired into private life to avoid the 
 dangers that beset you on all sides ! I 
 wonder almost that you dare ride out 
 alone. And yet, Otho, what a great thing 
 to be so sought after ! ' ' 
 
 Otho's face was almost purple, partly 
 with breathless amazement, partly with 
 anger. Eleanor, it seemed, did not realize, 
 or did not care, to what inconvenience he 
 was put by her presence here at all. She 
 chaffed and laughed at him. She now put 
 the crowning point to this offensive con- 
 duct by leaning over towards him, and 
 asking, with a pretence of looking round 
 to see that no one was near to look or 
 listen — 
 
 "Otho, did Miss Wynter warn you of 
 the danger of these harpies by whom you 
 are surrounded ? Women are always 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 BORDERLAND. 
 
 quick to see through the designs of other 
 women. How good of her to take care of 
 you and keep you out of danger ! " 
 
 Otho's deep colour grew deeper still. 
 Shrewdly had Eleanor hit the mark. The 
 language, the terms of expression, were his 
 own, native to his genius and redolent of 
 his mind ; but the substance of his speech 
 was the substance of scores of conversa- 
 tions with Magdalen, in which she had 
 amused him by tearing to pieces the sup- 
 posed designs of their neighbours of the 
 whole country-side. 
 
 " V/hat bosh ! " he said at last, with 
 sovereign contempt. *' You'll be saying 
 next that she had designs herself." A 
 peculiar smile hovered about his sister's 
 lips, but she said nothing. *' No, no. It 
 is quite different with her, as you will see 
 when you meet her. You can go and 
 have an hour's chat with her — or two 
 hours, if you like. She's always pleasant, 
 always amusing ; no father or mother to
 
 ELEANOR. 259 
 
 be down on you. And she does not 
 imagine, even if you were to go and see 
 her regularly twice a week, that you've got 
 ' intentions ; ' and, what is more, she has 
 none herself. She can be pleasant, and 
 free, and agreeable, without all the time 
 being bent upon hooking you. Yes " — the 
 taciturn Otho waxed enthusiastic — " she is 
 my friend. I don't care who knows it. 
 She's the only wom.an in the neighbour- 
 hood that I call upon." 
 
 Had Eleanor been better acquainted 
 with " the neighbourhood " and its annals, 
 she might better have appreciated the 
 honourable distinction conveyed in this 
 speech. 
 
 " Dear me ! She ought to be flattered, 
 I am sure. Is this place of hers a large 
 one ? " 
 
 '' Balder Hall, Magdalen s ? God bless 
 you, no ! I wish it was. She's a poor 
 penniless niece of an old bedridden woman. 
 Miss Martha Strangforth, whom they call
 
 26o BORDERLAND. 
 
 about here * the Immortal,' for they say 
 she will never die. I dare say Magdalen 
 wishes it were true, for so long as the old 
 woman lives the girl has a home and a 
 position. And old Martha's income dies 
 with her, and I don't fancy she has saved 
 much." 
 
 '' Girl — she must be a precocious girl," 
 said Eleanor sweetly. 
 
 " Oh, the malice of you women ! " said 
 Otho, gnashing his teeth with virtuous and 
 masculine indignation. "When I say 'girl,' 
 I'm rather stretching a point. She is a 
 year or so older than I am — about eight 
 and twenty. And it seems to me that 
 precious few women under that age are 
 worth speaking to." 
 
 ''Well, they certainly should be worth 
 speaking to by the time they are that age, 
 if ever they intend to be. But if she is 
 poor and dependent, it seems to me men 
 ought to be rather careful about going to 
 see her very often."
 
 ELEANOR. 261 
 
 *' For fear she should set traps for them, 
 of course," sneered Otho. 
 
 ''Oh, not at all. But because other 
 people are sometimes ill-natured, and a 
 woman who has her way to make, or who 
 may have her living to earn some time, 
 cannot be too careful." 
 
 "Oh, come, Eleanor! When you see 
 her you will understand that one can't 
 speak of Magdalen Wynter in that way. 
 No one could imagine her in any inferior 
 position. It isn't in her to take one." 
 
 " Isn't it ? Well, it is lucky for her if 
 she has some power that can defy need 
 and want of money. I used to help Aunt 
 Emily with some charitable works that 
 she was interested in— governesses' homes, 
 and ladies' work societies, and so on ; and 
 you would have been astonished at the 
 terrible cases one used to see, and the de- 
 plorable condition of ladies— ladies of birth 
 and beauty, with the most terrible tales of 
 the straits to which poverty and distress
 
 262 BORDERLAND. 
 
 had driven them. I used to He awake for 
 hours sometimes, wishing I had the courage 
 to divide my money into a common fund, 
 for some of the poorest, and go and Hve 
 with them on equal terms." 
 
 *' You'll come to no good if you let that 
 sort of nonsense get into your head," said 
 Otho gruffly. '' But it's useless to talk. 
 You will understand what I mean when 
 you see her," he added, feeling that his 
 sister was not altogether devoid of the 
 obstinacy which was so salient a feature 
 in his own character. " She does not care 
 for the people about here, you know. In 
 fact, she dislikes them, and makes great 
 fun of them. And they don't care about 
 her ; she's too handsome for them." 
 
 Eleanor made no answer to this, and 
 they rode on in silence for a little time. 
 Miss Askam did not feel ''drawn" to 
 Magdalen by Otho's description of his 
 friend. Indeed, it had the very natural 
 effect of putting her mind into a defensive
 
 ELEANOR. 263 
 
 attitude with regard to the other woman. 
 Without being any stickler for forms, she 
 could not understand why Miss Wynter 
 had not called upon her, perhaps on her 
 aunt's behalf, or why she was being thus 
 hurried to see this wonderful penniless 
 orphan who had no designs upon men, but 
 who disliked and was disliked by all the 
 other women of the neighbourhood. ''It 
 looks very much as if I were being taken 
 to her on approval, for inspection," said 
 Eleanor within herself. Her white teeth 
 showed a little in a not altogether amiable 
 smile. '' Well, let it be so. I am com- 
 mitted to nothing with her. We will see 
 what she is. I think I can sustain her 
 inspection." 
 
 She also reflected that Othos gift of 
 character-drawing seemed to be in a very 
 undeveloped condition, and she had more 
 than once noticed, during her short career, 
 that when men describe women, they very 
 often paint them, not as they are, but as
 
 264 BORDERLAND. 
 
 the women have chosen that they should 
 find them ; and this was very Hkely the 
 case with Otho and Miss Wynter. 
 
 " Here we are," observed Otho, as they 
 turned in at the Balder Hall Lodge, rode 
 up to the door, and found that Miss 
 Wynter was at home.
 
 { 265 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-TWO. 
 
 Miss Strangforth's butler threw open the 
 door of an exquisite little upstairs sitting- 
 room, and announced Otho and Eleanor. 
 The latter, whose whole mind had been 
 dwelling in anticipation on the meeting 
 with this woman whom she disliked in 
 advance, got a sort of jar through her 
 nerves as, on walking into the room, she 
 confronted, not only Magdalen luxuriously 
 stretched in a low easy-chair by the fire, 
 but, much more conspicuous at the moment, 
 the figure of a man, standing on the hearth- 
 rug, with his back to the fire. A slight 
 shock went through her as she encountered
 
 266 BORDERLAND. 
 
 the pair of grave and searching eyes which 
 had been present in her mind more than 
 once during the last twenty-four hours. 
 It was Michael Langstroth who looked at 
 her. Eleanor's first feeling was an un- 
 reasoning one of disappointment. " He 
 comes to see her too, then." The next 
 was one of satisfaction. '' At any rate, I 
 shall now learn who he is." 
 
 Then her attention was drawn to Mag- 
 dalen, as the latter rose, with a slight ''Ah ! " 
 and advanced, saying, '' Well, Otho, how 
 do you do ? " 
 
 Eleanor looked at her. She had a rapid 
 general impression of a tall woman, beauti- 
 ful both in face and form, and arrayed in a 
 mouse-coloured velvet gown — a woman 
 whose exceedingly white and finely shaped 
 hands held some brilliant scarlet wool and 
 ivory knitting-needles ; who had eyes which 
 for darkness and coldness could not be 
 surpassed, and a sweet and frigid smile. 
 
 ** Well," Otho retorted, not very gaily ;
 
 TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-TWO. 267 
 
 " I've smashed through all etiquette and 
 ceremony, I suppose, in doing this, and 
 brought my sister to see you, instead of 
 waiting for you to come and see her. 
 Eleanor, this is my friend. Miss Wynter." 
 
 He led his sister a little forward as he 
 spoke, so that she was fully displayed to 
 Magdalen's view ; and Miss Wynter's eyes 
 encountered a sight she did not often see 
 — a woman as beautiful as herself, and 
 possessing, too, the powerful advantage of 
 being six years younger than she was. 
 Her plain dark riding dress suited to 
 admiration the frank and hardy youthful- 
 ness of the wearer ; for with all her softness 
 of voice and outline, and for all the rounded 
 grace of her form, there was a hardiness 
 about Eleanor Askam which gave piquancy 
 to her whole aspect. 
 
 *' It was very good of you, Otho, and 
 exceedingly good of you. Miss Askam. 
 I was absolutely unable to go out this 
 afternoon, and I wanted so much to make
 
 2 68 BORDERLAND. 
 
 your acquaintance." She extended her 
 hand to Eleanor, and smiled her usual 
 smile ; one without any flavour of insin- 
 cerit}^ or of sincerity either — a smile which 
 repelled and displeased Eleanor, she knew 
 not why. 
 
 " Otho seemed extremely anxious about 
 it," she said coolly and gravely, " and I did 
 what he wished me to do." 
 
 Her voice rang out, clear and distinct — 
 no muffled notes, and no hesitation or 
 pretence of being delighted to pay the 
 visit. Magdalen noted it all, and replied 
 sweetly — 
 
 ''Yes ; I am so glad you came. Take 
 
 this easy-chair, and Oh, Michael, I 
 
 beg your pardon." She slurred over an 
 almost inaudible introduction. 
 
 " Miss Askam and I have met already," 
 said Michael with composure. " I think I 
 may safely claim the honour of having 
 been before you in having made her 
 acquaintance."
 
 TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-TWO. 269 
 
 " No — how ? " exclaimed Magdalen, 
 arrested. 
 
 " Yes," said Eleanor, looking at Michael 
 as she seated herself. '' I did not know 
 who Mr. " 
 
 '' Langstroth," said Michael, speaking 
 for himself. 
 
 *' Langstroth," repeated Eleanor, with a 
 little bow, " was ; nor he who I was." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I read your name 
 on the label that was on your bag," he 
 remarked ; but he neither bowed nor 
 smiled, though it would have been impos- 
 sible to say that his manner was not 
 polite. It was very much so, but not at all 
 cordial. 
 
 " Mr. Langstroth saved me from getting 
 out a station too soon," she said, turning to 
 Otho, in explanation. She could not help 
 seeing that his moody countenance wore 
 anything but one of its lighter expressions. 
 He stood stiffly, his hat and whip in his 
 hand, and a fleeting side-glance had shown
 
 270 BORDERLAND. 
 
 her that he and the stranger (was he any 
 relation, she wondered, to Otho's great 
 friend, Gilbert Langstroth, who was 
 coming down for Christmas ?) had ex- 
 changed a very slight and indifferent 
 acknowledgment of each other's presence. 
 
 Michael Langstroth, now standing up- 
 right, looking on, betrayed no feeling of 
 any kind as he heard her remark. It 
 was five years now since he had had a 
 letter from Magdalen, which had gone near 
 to turning his brain. Such episodes have 
 the effect upon those who receive them 
 of, to use a vulgarism, killing or curing. 
 Michael had been cured; hence his pre- 
 sence in Magdalen's boudoir now ; hence 
 his ability to stand by and take in the 
 comedy of the situation, and to feel de- 
 cidedly, if a little sardonically, amused at 
 what was taking place. 
 
 He did not sit down again. He wished 
 Magdalen good afternoon ; and Eleanor 
 noticed that, although polite — she had a
 
 TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-TWO. 27 1 
 
 Strong conviction that under no possible 
 combination of circumstances could he be 
 impolite — he was not what could be called 
 genial. He was grave and distant, and 
 however slight this gravity and distance, 
 they were present, and Eleanor, keenly 
 sensitive to manner and expression, noticed 
 them instantly. Michael said he would 
 call again in a few days, bowed to them 
 all, and took his departure. 
 
 *' Now, Otho," said Miss Wynter, almost 
 before Michael had left the room, '' I have 
 something to tell you. I had better do it 
 now, before I forget. Briggs has got a very 
 wonderful colt to show you, and has been 
 
 expressing the most ardent longing " 
 
 '' Briggs — a colt ! " exclaimed Otho, 
 with unaffected interest and animation ; 
 " I'll go to him this minute. I suppose he 
 is at the stables ? " 
 
 *' I suppose so — somewhere there," re- 
 plied Magdalen nonchalantly; and Otho 
 disappeared instantly, while Eleanor sat
 
 272 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Still, feeling intensely displeased, less at 
 what was actually said and done than at 
 the tone and the manner of it. Fine- 
 tempered and incapable of behaving with 
 insolence or impertinence to any inferior, 
 it yet seemed to her that Magdalen was 
 scarcely in a position to order Otho to the 
 stables, so that she might be left alone 
 with his sister; or, indeed, to call him by 
 his Christian name, and almost openly to 
 hint that she wanted him out of the way — 
 unless, indeed, she were engaged to be 
 married to him, which Eleanor, with a 
 sudden sense of apprehension, hoped she 
 was not ; and recalling Otho's dissertations 
 on their ride hither, she felt it was scarcely 
 possible that he could be. 
 
 While she was thinking these thoughts, 
 and while the shadow of them was on 
 her too expressive countenance, Magdalen 
 sank back in her chair, watching her visitor 
 keenly, if unobtrusively. When she ad- 
 dressed her, she spoke with a smile, but
 
 TWENTY-EIGHT AND TWENTY-TWO. 273 
 
 her eyes, Eleanor noticed, did not in the 
 least partake of the smile upon her lips. 
 She smiled, not because she felt pleased, 
 or genial, or mirthful, but mechanically — 
 because it is the custom to smile when you 
 receive your guests. 
 
 Eleanor, on her part, was conscious of 
 liking less and less the aroma, as it were, 
 of Miss Wynter and her surroundings ; 
 but she was aware that this was blind 
 prejudice, and was determined to overcome 
 it if she could. She was very young, and 
 Otho had not been wrongs when he had 
 described her as enthusiastic ; but she felt 
 a kind of mental and moral chill, or ever 
 she had really entered into conversation 
 with this woman, who had, as it were, 
 been so suddenly flung across her path, 
 and who, she began to realize, must be 
 a powerful influence in Otho's life. It 
 must be so, she reflected, or he would not 
 thus have been eaorer to brintr them to- 
 
 o o 
 
 gether, and then as eager to leave them 
 
 VOL. I. 1 8
 
 2 74 BORDERLAND. 
 
 alone. Alone, for what ? she reflected — to 
 discover the innate and latent points of 
 sympathy between them, and to rejoice in 
 them, or to fight out their radical differ- 
 ences to the bitter end ?
 
 ( 275 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 
 
 " Of course you are quite strange to Brad- 
 stane ? " began Magdalen. 
 
 '' Yes, quite — at least, practically so. I 
 can't recall much about it. In fact, I'm 
 strange to the north altogether, except 
 Scotland— staying at hotels or shooting- 
 boxes, you know." 
 
 "Ah, yes. Those are luxuries for the 
 rich," said Magdalen, whose whole person, 
 attire, and surroundings breathed an atmo- 
 sphere of more than riches, of extrava- 
 gance. " I may say I have never been in 
 the south, for I haven't, except to Bourne- 
 mouth, with my aunt. Well, I wonder
 
 276 BORDERLAND. 
 
 how you will ' like,' as they say here. The 
 society of Bradstane is a little peculiar. 
 It is not intellectual" — Eleanor felt a little 
 surprise at this ; Magdalen herself had 
 not struck her as looking intellectual — 
 " and it is not by any means lively. And 
 I suppose you have been accustomed to 
 a good deal of variety in your life ? " 
 
 '* Not lately. Six months ago, my aunt, 
 Mrs. Stanley, who has been my second 
 mother, died very suddenly. We have 
 had a very quiet and a very sad house 
 ever since, and if Bradstane were ever 
 so gay, I should not be going out much 
 now." 
 
 '' Ah, yes, very sad — Otho mentioned 
 your loss," murmured Magdalen, who, with 
 the self-absorption of her kind, had for- 
 gotten Eleanors account of her uncle's 
 condition. 
 
 '* And then," added Eleanor, feeling her 
 heart beating just a little faster, but 
 marching straight into the fray, " I have
 
 THRUST AND TARRY. 277 
 
 Otho. I hope to see something of him 
 now. He is my only brother, and I have 
 been much separated from him." 
 
 "Ah, your brother," said Magdalen, all 
 at once discarding her purring tone, and 
 taking up her knitting, with the expression 
 of one who has just come to some mental 
 decision. "He was the attraction, was 
 he ? " 
 
 " Hateful woman ! " said Eleanor within 
 herself. " She thinks he is her property, 
 and that I am come to dispute him with 
 her. So I have, and so I will." Then 
 aloud, " Certainly, he was an attraction, 
 if it needed a great attraction to make me 
 wish to visit my own home, after so many 
 years. Besides, who knows how long I 
 may have the chance to be with him, and 
 get to know him ? I am astonished that 
 he has not married before now." 
 
 A slight pause. Eleanor herself was 
 surprised to find in what style she was 
 talking; but something in the very pre-
 
 278 BORDERLAND. 
 
 sence of the other woman seemed to 
 arouse her pugnacity, and to place her In 
 an almost aggressive attitude. 
 
 " At any rate, while I have the field to 
 myself, I mean to let Otho know that he 
 has a sister," she pursued, with a slight 
 laugh. 
 
 '' Highly commendable," said Magdalen, 
 either with constraint or a slight sneer ; it 
 would have been difficult to say which. 
 
 " He is a great friend of yours, I find," 
 continued Eleanor, looking directly at 
 Magdalen, who made no reply to the 
 words. Eleanor paused a moment, and 
 then took her course. She was really 
 anxious to learn, if she could, the extent 
 of this woman's influence over her brother ; 
 but more than that, to get to know whether 
 she were a sincere woman, or a false one. 
 She would feign a tender interest in Otho's 
 affairs, and a sisterly solicitude for his 
 welfare. As a matter of fact, she knew 
 nothing of the said afi'airs, nor whether
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 279 
 
 well or ill might be the word to apply to 
 his spiritual condition. She would try to 
 discover. It was a hardy resolution, with 
 such a woman as Magdalen for her oppo- 
 nent, but want of courage was not one of 
 Eleanor's defects. 
 
 " It seems so strange," she presently 
 went on, in a musing tone, '' that you, 
 living in the same place and being his 
 friend, must have seen him often, and 
 know him quite well, while I, his own 
 sister, scarcely know anything about him." 
 
 " You think that is a great loss, I sup- 
 pose ? " 
 
 '* Well, yes, I do. I think I ought to 
 know about him — good or bad. It seems 
 to me unnatural that I should not. I wish 
 you would tell me something about him, 
 Miss Wynter. It really seems as though 
 he had left us on purpose that we might 
 discuss him." 
 
 " Why discuss him at all ? " 
 
 '* Well," said Eleanor with a smile, " I
 
 2 So BORDERLAND. 
 
 don't think you and I can have many 
 objects of mutual interest to talk about. 
 Otho is one, obviously — my brother and 
 your friend. I think it is most natural to 
 talk about him. From what he said of 
 you, I am sure you must know a great 
 deal of his character and disposition. He 
 is very reserved, I think. I want to get 
 on with him, of course. Can't you tell me 
 something of his tastes and habits ? " 
 
 Miss Wynter's white eyelids drooped, 
 but quivered not. Her fingers flew in and 
 out of the scarlet wool, and the ivory 
 needles made a pleasant, dull clicking. 
 What she thought with cold annoyance 
 was, that Eleanor was impertinent and 
 inquisitive, devoid of tact and savoir faire. 
 (No one knew better than Eleanor herself 
 that her present conduct was scarcely 
 conventional, but she felt that she did not 
 much care what it was, so long as she 
 rode away from Balder Hall possessed of 
 definite views as to Magdalen's goodness
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 28 1 
 
 or badness, and she rather hoped the con- 
 versation would disclose badness.) If the 
 young woman were put down at once and 
 promptly, Magdalen argued, she might 
 perhaps profit by the lesson ; If not, if 
 encouraged In the least, she was almost 
 certain to become very troublesome. So 
 she said — • 
 
 " My dear child, you surely do not sup- 
 pose that because a man comes once or 
 twice a week and chats with one for an 
 hour or two, or even spends a whole 
 afternoon In one's society, that he neces- 
 sarily reveals to one anything of his real 
 habits or character ? " 
 
 " It depends on what his habits may 
 be, of course," said Eleanor with gravity ; 
 and. In spite of telling herself that she was 
 acting a part, she felt a vague uneasiness, 
 which vexed her like a coming trouble 
 whenever any question arose of Otho and 
 his doings. It was not the first time she 
 had felt It. Dim reports of his fastness and
 
 252 BORDERLAND. 
 
 Strange habits had penetrated even to her 
 well-sheltered home with the Stanleys ; 
 and more than once her uncle had said to 
 her, "My dear, I'm afraid your brother 
 spends a good deal of money in a very 
 reckless way." 
 
 " It depends on what his habits may 
 be," she repeated ; '' but he could not 
 come so often as that and not show some- 
 thing of his character — or disposition, 
 perhaps I should say." 
 
 *'Well, you will see him daily, now that 
 you have come to live with him — possibly 
 for many hours in each day. I see him, 
 at the most, once or twice a week, for an 
 hour, or perhaps two hours. It is obvious 
 that your opportunities will be incom- 
 parably greater than mine have been. 
 Don't you think you had better study his 
 character at first hand — if you are interested 
 in it, that is ? " 
 
 "If I am interested — in my own 
 brother ? "
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 283 
 
 " I see you have very enthusiastic ideas, 
 and quite orthodox ones, about brothers 
 and sisters loving each other, however dis- 
 similar in character and disposition they 
 may be " (Eleanor repressed a smile. 
 She had not expressed any such views), 
 ''just because they are brothers and sisters. 
 But, you know, it is not wise to take your 
 impressions of any one in whom you are 
 interested from a third person. How can 
 you know what feelings and what motives 
 might influence me in speaking to you of 
 him " 
 
 '' Oh, Miss Wynter, would Otho have 
 brought me here if you had had a bad 
 influence over him ? He thinks so much 
 of you," said Eleanor, seeing that Magda- 
 len had accepted her (Eleanor's) presenta- 
 tion of herself, and feeling that her role 
 was now an easy one to play. 
 
 " No," pursued Miss Wynter, apparently 
 unheeding Eleanor's last remark ; '' study 
 him and his character at your ease, by
 
 284 BORDERLAND. 
 
 yourself, and don't worry yourself about 
 it. As for his habits — now, this advice 
 really comes from my heart, Miss Askam,'^ 
 and Magdalen laid down her work and 
 looked with cold earnestness at her com- 
 panion — " if he were younger than you, or 
 in any way in your keeping or under your 
 control, it would clearly be your duty to 
 become acquainted with his incomings and 
 outgoings, and to supervise his proceed- 
 ings. But just the reverse is the case. 
 He is older than you by several years ; he 
 is his own master, and has been so for 
 many years, accustomed to consult himself 
 alone — you little know how much himself 
 alone — in the management of his own 
 affairs. He knows his own aims and 
 wishes, If he has any. Let me advise 
 you, if you wish to have a shadow of 
 influence over him, never to Interfere, by 
 word, look, or deed, with anything that he 
 may choose to do. I do not say that by 
 this course you will gain an influence over
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 285 
 
 him, but I say that if you do not observe 
 it, you will lose every chance of ever gain- 
 ing one. He will not brook the least 
 appearance of meddling " 
 
 '' But, indeed, I do not want " began 
 
 Eleanor, astounded at the revelation her 
 ruse had called forth — amazed at the 
 depths of angry feeling which she saw 
 quickly enough were surging under 
 that composed exterior called Magdalen 
 Wynter. But Magdalen had begun her 
 exhortation, and was not to be easily 
 stopped. In the same cold but energetic 
 style she went on — 
 
 " If you once let him see that you think 
 his affairs are anything to you, your chance 
 is gone." 
 
 " My chance — of what ? " thought Elea- 
 nor, looking, as she now felt, very grave. 
 
 Magdalen saw this gravity. Her 
 thought was, " Silly, sentimental creature ! 
 The idea of coming rushing in with a 
 mission or a vocation to improve her
 
 286 BORDERLAND. 
 
 brother ! Some women never will learn." 
 Then, after a moment's pause, she con- 
 tinued — 
 
 '' Men are odd, you know. If they do 
 wrong, yes, even if they wrong you — if 
 they do something flagrantly unjust, and 
 you reproach them, or scold them, or try 
 to make them see how bad they have been, 
 what good does it do ? It does not make 
 them sorry or ashamed, but it makes them 
 think you very disagreeable ; it makes 
 them angry with you for dictating to them ; 
 it makes them cease to have any wish to 
 please you, or any regard for you. Let 
 him alone, unless you wish to make mis- 
 chief. You understand me, I dare say ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid I understand that my 
 brother's habits are not what they should 
 be." 
 
 " That is a very hasty conclusion, 
 and shows that you certainly have not 
 understood me. If I must speak so very 
 plainly "
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 287 
 
 " I do not wish to interfere with him," 
 said Eleanor, with a shade of hauteur ; 
 but she was uneasy, and an anxious colour 
 had begun to burn on either cheek. She 
 had come hither against her will. She 
 had disliked Mao^dalen from Otho's talk 
 of her, had disliked her more on seeing 
 and conversing with her, and had de- 
 scended to subterfuge, to find out her 
 thoughts about her brother. She was pure 
 of any wish to be a missionary to Otho, 
 which was evidently what Magdalen had 
 gathered to be her object ; but she had 
 unwittingly called forth an indirect charac- 
 terization of her brother — and that from 
 one who evidently knew him well, and was 
 tenacious of her hold on him — which 
 roused her deepest uneasiness. After the 
 last words there was a pause, and then 
 Eleanor said slowly, and wishing the while 
 that she had not begun the conversation — 
 '' And I have no doubt that you know 
 far more about him than I do."
 
 288 BORDERLAND. 
 
 '' You credit me with a great deal of 
 very important knowledge," said Magdalen, 
 coldly and sweetly. "All I can say is, 
 that if I possessed that knowledge to the 
 full, I should not think of imparting it to 
 you — not for a moment. And let me re- 
 mind you that, whether he be good or bad, 
 I am not your brother's keeper. I think 
 he is quite competent to take care of 
 himself." 
 
 " I was not dreaming of assuming any 
 such office," Eleanor said, fully convinced 
 from Maofdalens tone that she did feel 
 herself to be Otho's keeper, in a sense ; 
 that she liked the proprietorship, and 
 meant to fight for her possession of it, if 
 it were disputed. The idea of entering 
 the lists with her filled Eleanor with dis- 
 gust. Her impressions, could she have 
 reduced them to their simplest form, were 
 that Otho was not what he ought to be in 
 the matter of conduct, and that Magdalen 
 knew a good deal more about him than
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 289 
 
 she chose to tell. Miss Wynter, however, 
 seemed to consider the subject at an end, 
 and to assume that Eleanor had found 
 out her mistake. She herself began with 
 a new subject. 
 
 " How came you to know Michael 
 Langstroth ? " she inquired, with her 
 sweetest smile. 
 
 " Oh, I don't consider that I know him. 
 Did you not hear what I said to Otho ? 
 He got into the carriage I was in, at a 
 station near Tebay. He seemed in a 
 great hurry, and jumped in as the train 
 was setting off " 
 
 " Just hke him ! " 
 
 " A porter at Tebay had told me that 
 the station after this one at which Mr. 
 Langstroth got in would be Bradstane, 
 so I was collecting my things, and I 
 suppose he saw from that label on my 
 bag where I was really going ; for he said, 
 • Are you getting out at Cotherstone ? ' 
 Then, of course, I explained, and he ex- 
 
 VOL. I. 19
 
 290 BORDERLAND. 
 
 plained, and it was all right. He got out 
 at Cotherstone, and I came on to Brad- 
 stane." 
 
 '' Oh yes," said Magdalen, who had 
 listened attentively, and watched no less 
 attentively the manner and gestures of 
 the speaker. "He has such long distances 
 to go in a country place like this." 
 
 " Do they all call him * Doctor ' Lang- 
 stroth, here ? " 
 
 *' Yes, they all do. It is a country habit. 
 He 'doctors' them, so he is 'the doctor ;' 
 but he practises as a surgeon." 
 
 '' Is he a friend of yours, then } " 
 
 '' I have known him intimately for many 
 years." 
 
 '' Otho says that some one whom he 
 called * Gilbert Langstroth' is his greatest 
 friend. Is he any relation of this Mr. 
 Langstroth } " 
 
 '' Brother." 
 
 " Indeed ! But Otho seemed not to 
 know Dr. Langstroth very well."
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 29 1 
 
 " They are not devoted to each other." 
 
 " Have they quarrelled ? " 
 
 It could hardly be that these questions 
 of Eleanor s, put in all innocence and good 
 faith, were agreeable to Magdalen. Per- 
 haps, when she asked Otho to bring his 
 sister soon, she had foreseen some such 
 catechism. Perhaps she had reflected that 
 the old facts of her engagement to Michael 
 and its rupture, and the reasons assigned 
 for it, must surely, sooner or later, come 
 to Eleanor Askam's ears, since they were 
 public property, and it was not the fashion 
 in Bradstane to hide any treasure, how- 
 ever minute, of fact or fiction, gossip or 
 scandal, which had once gained credence 
 in the public mind. Why not, she may 
 have 'reflected, let Eleanor hear the story 
 from herself, and so at any rate gain that 
 first hearing which is supposed to go such 
 a long way towards deciding the final 
 verdict ? She knew quite well that, along 
 with the simple account of her own en-
 
 292 BORDERLAND. 
 
 gagement to Michael, and of its having 
 been broken off, Eleanor would like- 
 wise hear that she, Magdalen, had jilted 
 Michael, hoping to be married by Otho 
 Askam. That, whether true or not, was 
 what was said, and Magdalen knew it as 
 well as if she had heard it herself. She 
 knew, too, that women had laughed at her, 
 and did laugh at her yet, because she had 
 thrown Michael over, they said, and not 
 secured Otho. People did not say those 
 things to her, of course, but she knew 
 that they were said, and that they would 
 be said to Eleanor. Grievous though the 
 questions of the latter might appear to her, 
 therefore, it might have been still more 
 grievous to know that Eleanor was seated 
 in other drawing - rooms, hearing other 
 versions of the story. 
 
 " Oh, it is a long tale, rather," said 
 she ; and she related correctly enough the 
 history of the two brothers, not mentioning 
 her own relations to Michael, but watching
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 293 
 
 Eleanor with Interest. She saw how the 
 girl's eyes gradually kindled, and her lips 
 parted, as she heard, and seemed almost 
 to foresee the end of the tale. She leaned 
 forward eagerly as Magdalen wound up 
 with the story of the will and its direc- 
 tions, and how Michael had received the 
 blow. 
 
 '' Yes ? " said Eleanor. 
 
 " When he found that his father's house 
 was all that belonged to him, the first 
 thing he did was to turn Gilbert out of it, 
 calling him traitor, and saying he had lost 
 his brother. He drove him out that 
 instant, you know, on the spot." 
 
 " He was right," exclaimed Eleanor, in 
 a deep voice, which showed how great 
 had been her interest and her suspense ; 
 and as she spoke, she struck her riding 
 whip emphatically across her left hand, 
 and looked up with a frown. " I would 
 have done the same. Cowardly, snake-like 
 traitor!" The instinct of the fig-htinor 
 
 o o
 
 294 BORDERLAND. 
 
 animal was strong in Eleanor, as it is in 
 most healthy creatures. 
 
 " You think so ? A great many other 
 persons thought the same ; and a great 
 lawyer, a friend of Michael's, wanted him 
 to dispute the will." 
 
 *' And did he ? " 
 
 '' Michael dispute it ! My dear Miss 
 Askam, he is far too haughty and high- 
 flown to descend to any such mundane 
 method of settling the matter. He said 
 he washed his hands of it, and left his 
 brother Gilbert to his conscience. He 
 refused to touch any of the sum which 
 was left him — or rather, to Gilbert, to 
 manage for him. He said he had a pro- 
 fession which would keep him from star- 
 vation, and a roof to cover him — he would 
 have no more." 
 
 '' I agree with him," said Eleanor, still 
 very emphatically ; and she lifted her eyes, 
 filled with the feeling that was in her, and 
 her whole countenance brightened with an
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 295 
 
 ennobling light, the result of inner exalta- 
 tion, and as Magdalen met this gaze, her 
 own eyes dilated, a look of something like 
 affright crossed his face ; she said quickly 
 and coldly — 
 
 "It sounds very well — very grand, does 
 it not ? Quite heroic, in fact." 
 
 '' I think it was very fine — very high." 
 
 '' It sounds so, and it was so, in a way. 
 But when one comes down to the dull 
 regions of common sense, as one always 
 has to do in the end, it does not work 
 very well. For instance, that high resolu- 
 tion that you admire so much was the rock 
 that Michael and I split upon." 
 
 " Michael — and you," repeated Eleanor 
 mechanically, looking at Magdalen with 
 a new expression, and with all the glow 
 fading from her eyes. 
 
 '' Yes, exactly. When Mr. Langstroth 
 died, his son and I had been engaged three 
 years. We had always looked forward to 
 being married — at least, I had — when our
 
 296 BORDERLAND. 
 
 prospects Improved. But when all this 
 came out, and It was evident that Michael 
 would have no assistance, and even refused 
 what he might have had, there was an end 
 to all that, of course. He was not well off. 
 He never will be. He has not the spirit 
 of — I won't say money-making, but of the 
 most ordinary providence for the future. 
 When he refused the provision that had 
 been made for him, I knew that meant 
 that I must give him up, and I did so. 
 We have only been friends ever since, 
 and " 
 
 ''You gave him up, then — oh. Miss 
 Wynter, how could you ? " Eleanor had 
 exclaimed, before she knew what she was 
 saying. The next moment she felt that 
 she had committed an indiscretion, but she 
 scarcely improved the situation by hastily 
 exclaiming, '' Oh, I beg your pardon ! " 
 
 " There is no need," said Magdalen, 
 quite composedly. " One cannot enter 
 into the details of such things with
 
 THRUST AND PARRY. 297 
 
 Strangers. I acted, as I thought, for the 
 best. Poor Michael ! He is such a fine 
 fellow in some ways, but so utterly, so 
 hopelessly unpractical. He is not fit for 
 his position, or for the present age ; and 
 yet he is so loyal, so true. I do not 
 believe he ever cared, or ever will care, for 
 any woman but me," she added, looking 
 pensively at Eleanor as she spoke. '' That 
 sounds rather a self-confident thing to say, 
 does it not ? but I have known him so 
 long — I have good grounds for thinking 
 that I am right. He is not like those men 
 who love here a day, and there a day, and 
 another day somewhere else. . . . Poor 
 Michael ! " 
 
 While she spoke, Eleanor felt her heart 
 as heavy as lead within her. If Magdalen 
 Wynter and Gilbert Langstroth were 
 Otho's friends, and beloved of him, and 
 this other man was shut out and disliked 
 — yes, her idea that Magdalen knew more 
 about Otho than she would say must be
 
 298 BORDERLAND. 
 
 correct, and it seemed as if the whole 
 thing were painful and discordant. But 
 she supposed Miss Wynter must possess 
 unusual powers of fascination, since 
 Michael, after being treated by her in a 
 manner which even her representations 
 could not make to appear creditable, 
 remained her friend. Had he not been 
 seated there when they arrived ? 
 
 Pondering painfully on this problem, she 
 was roused by the opening of the parlour 
 door, and looked up quickly, in the hope 
 that it might be Otho, and that they would 
 soon escape from this room, which had 
 become a place that oppressed hen 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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